"PHILADELPHIA, 15 May, 1796.

"TO THE EMPEROR OF GERMANY:

"It will readily occur to your Majesty that occasions may sometimes exist, on which official considerations would constrain the chief of a nation to be silent and pa.s.sive, in relation to objects which affect his sensibility, and claim his interposition as a man.

Finding myself precisely in this situation at present, I take the liberty of writing this private letter to your Majesty, being persuaded that my motives will also be my apology for it.

"In common with the people of this country, I retain a strong and cordial sense of the services rendered to them by the Marquis de Lafayette; and my friendship for him has been constant and sincere. It is natural, therefore, that I should sympathize with him and his family in their misfortunes, and endeavor to mitigate the calamities which they experience; among which, his present confinement is not the least distressing.

"I forbear to enlarge on this delicate subject. Permit me only to submit to your Majesty's consideration whether his long imprisonment and the confiscation of his estates, and the indigence and dispers.e.m.e.nt of his family, and the painful anxieties incident to all these circ.u.mstances, do not form an a.s.semblage of sufferings which recommend him to the mediation of humanity? Allow me, Sir, to be its organ on this occasion; and to entreat that he may be permitted to come to this country, on such conditions and under such restrictions as your Majesty may think fit to prescribe.

"As it is a maxim with me not to ask what under similar circ.u.mstances I would not grant, your Majesty will do me the justice to believe that this request appears to me to correspond with those great principles of magnanimity and wisdom, which form the basis of sound policy and durable glory.

"May the Almighty and merciful Sovereign of the universe keep your Majesty under his protection and guidance!"

Little by little the place where Lafayette was imprisoned became known to a few, and public sentiment was aroused to the point of bringing up the matter before the British Parliament. It was a certain General Fitzpatrick who, strange to say, had met Lafayette in London before he went to America, and again between battles when they were ranged on opposite sides of the Revolution, who now brought up the question.

Twice he made a motion in favor of acting for the release of Lafayette. Fitzpatrick was the kind of man who could not bear to entertain the idea that there should exist "in any corner of British soil, in any English heart, conceptions so narrow as to wish to see the ill.u.s.trious pupil of Washington perishing in a dungeon on account of his political principles." General Fitzpatrick's motion was seconded by General Tarleton, who had fought Lafayette through the length and breadth of Virginia. Pitt and Burke spoke against it.

Lord Grey said that if asked what would be gained by furthering the release of Lafayette, he would reply that "we should exculpate ourselves from the suspicion of being accomplices in the foulest wrong that ever disgraced humanity." The question was put to vote and stood forty-six yeas and one hundred and fifty-three nays. Such was the composition of the British Parliament at that time.

The next year Fitzpatrick renewed his efforts for Lafayette and proposed another motion. In an eloquent speech which should make his name honored for all time, he reviewed the former debate and paid a wonderful tribute to the character of Madame de Lafayette. The discussion that followed dwelt mainly on the question whether Lafayette was to be considered as a subject of the emperor or as a prisoner of war. The vote stood, yeas fifty, nays one hundred and thirty-two. Evidently the British Parliament had not made any great advance in the intervening year.

Meantime secret plans were being made to rescue Lafayette. The beautiful Angelica Schuyler Church, daughter of the American general, Philip Schuyler, was then in London; her husband, John Barker Church, had fought under Lafayette, and was now in the British Parliament.

Mrs. Church was the sister-in-law of Alexander Hamilton, one of Lafayette's dearest friends among his young companions-in-arms, and she was in touch with a group of French emigres. In fact, she was the center of a little volcano of feeling for the exile.

This secret circle kept up a constant communication with Mr. Pinckney and Mr. Jay. Mrs. Church wrote to Thomas Jefferson, Secretary of State in the United States, and to many others, begging, pleading for help.

For Lafayette, whom she had known in New York, her heart was constantly bleeding.

Proceeding from a mysterious writer who signed his name "Eleutherios,"

spirited articles soon began to appear in the English newspapers, and thus constantly fed a flame of feeling. All sorts of fears for Lafayette were entertained. "I see him in a dungeon," wrote one; "I see him in Siberia; I see him poisoned; I see him during what remains of his life torn by the uncertainty of the fate of all that he loves."

Soon after this the name of a Hanoverian doctor begins to appear in the doc.u.ments preserved. This Dr. Bollman had carried one exploit through successfully, bringing out of Paris during the Terror a certain French emigre and conveying him to London in safety. Bollman was to be engaged by the London group to start out and see what could be done for Lafayette. This scheme resulted in a great adventure in which an American youth figured n.o.bly.

CHAPTER XVI

AN ATTEMPTED RESCUE

The hope that potentates and governments might take up the cause of Lafayette began to fail and other plans were made. Chivalric dreams of going to seek the place where he was confined and effect what seemed the impossible--a personal rescue--began to haunt the minds of daring youths.

A letter is on record from a young man who wrote to Washington to ask if he might not have permission to go and seek Lafayette, and, if possible, conduct him and his family to America. Washington told him that all was being done that could be done, and that personal attempts would only result in failure. But there was another enterprising soul who did not wait for permission--he acted upon his own initiative. The story of that splendid young American must now be told.

Francis Kinloch Huger was the first child that Lafayette saw after he landed in America. It will be remembered that the little company of adventurers first touched sh.o.r.e on the country estate of Major Benjamin Huger, at Prospect Hill, near Charleston, South Carolina.

Here Lafayette was received hospitably and sent on in his host's carriage to Charleston.

The child Francis was then five years old and was the young representative of a remarkable family of Huguenot extraction. The first Daniel Huger came from Loudon, France, soon after the Edict of Nantes, and his descendants to-day number six thousand; among them are found a large number of distinguished names. Five Huger brothers held important positions in Revolutionary times. Three served in the war; Brigadier General Isaac Huger was second in command to General Greene at Guilford Court House; Lieutenant Colonel Frank Huger was promoted from Moultrie's Regiment to be Quartermaster General of the Southern Army of the Revolution; and Major Benjamin Huger, Lafayette's host and the father of the child Francis, was killed in 1780 before the lines at Charleston. Of the other two brothers in this remarkable family group, Daniel was one of Governor Rutledge's Privy Council and later a member of Congress, and John was on the Council of Safety and Secretary of State.

The boy Francis thus came from a stock of stalwart men. He was eight years old when his father was killed at Charleston. The pity of it was driven into his young soul when the ignominy of that defeat was accomplished.

Immediately after that event young Huger was sent to England to acquire a medical education. Later he, as the custom was, went on his travels and to hear lectures at great seats of learning. But the pa.s.sion for chivalric action that was inspiring youth everywhere he could not quell. He dreamed of finding Lafayette.

Meantime, American, English, and French friends of the ill.u.s.trious prisoner were busy in London, and they had commissioned the "Hanoverian doctor," known as Dr. Bollman, to make a search for him. This man made careful preparations. He traveled in a leisurely way through Germany in the guise of a wealthy and philanthropic physician. He let it be known that he was a sort of follower of Cagliostro, a notorious Italian whose ideas were popular at the time. He treated the poor free of charge and he showed a special interest in prisoners.

At last he reached Olmutz, a journey at that time something like going from New York to Nome. He made acquaintance with the attending physician of the garrison and was invited to dinner. He in return asked the surgeon to dine with him at his inn. The dinner was sumptuous. M. de Colombe, who tells this part of the story, says that the wine was especially excellent. No one could distrust a simple-hearted doctor, an unselfish student of mankind, and especially one who ordered such delicious wine! In time, conversation turned upon prisoners of note. It was rumored, hinted the artful and ingenious doctor, that there was such an one at Olmutz. Could this be true? It was even so, the unsuspecting surgeon admitted; the great Lafayette was under his close care. The doctor inquired for Lafayette's health and was told that it was fairly good. Dr. Bollman ventured to send his compliments to the prisoner with a message that he had lately left Lafayette's friends in England. The unsuspecting surgeon carried the innocent message.

On another occasion he brought word that Lafayette would like to know who those friends were. The doctor tried to speak the names, but could not p.r.o.nounce them so that the Austrian could understand them. He felt in his pocket for a bit of paper (which he had carefully placed there beforehand) and on it wrote the names which he sent to Lafayette.

These words also were written on the paper:

"If you read this with as much care as did your friend at Magdeburg, you will receive equal satisfaction."

The reference was to a prisoner at Magdeburg who received a book which contained messages written on the flyleaves in lemon juice. He held the book to the fire and by doing this the written words came out in brown lines and could be read. Lafayette took the hint, and discovered the message written with this invisible ink on the bit of paper. After this Bollman was allowed to lend Lafayette a book to read. It came back with lemon-juice messages on its margins. Lafayette wrote that he was sometimes allowed to drive, and as he was unknown to Bollman, he suggested a signal by which he could be recognized. He said that his lieutenant was a sheepish dolt, and that his corporal was covetous, treacherous, and cowardly. He added that the rides were allowed for the sake of his health. It appears that the government did not wish to arouse the frenzy of indignation that would follow if Lafayette were allowed to die in prison, so he was occasionally taken out to ride a league or even two from the fortress gate. If a rescuer and a trusty helper should appear, they could surely effect the escape. Lafayette would agree to frighten the cowardly little corporal himself; they need not provide a sword for him, for he would take the corporal's. An extra horse, one or two horses along the road--it could easily be done. It was a bold plan, but the bolder the plan, the more unexpected it was, and the better chance of success. Every day he would watch for them along the road.

After securing this definite information, the doctor retired to Vienna to make further plans.

This account may be in some respects the later elaboration of a story many times retold. But it sounds probable. At any rate, in some such way Dr. Bollman gained communication with Lafayette's cell, and brought the welcome news that friends were working for him. Then they projected a plan.

The story is again taken up in a coffeehouse in Vienna where Bollman is accustomed to go. Lafayette has suggested an a.s.sistant, and Bollman realizes that he can do nothing without one. Therefore he is looking about to find one who shall have spirit and fitness for the work. We see him now at the supper table, eagerly conversing with a certain young American, like himself a medical student on his travels.

Curiously enough, it is Francis Kinloch Huger, now twenty-one years old. They talk of America. Bollman, with elaborate inadvertence, touches on the personality of Lafayette. The young man relates his childish memory of the arrival of that enthusiastic youth when he first came ash.o.r.e at his father's South Carolina country place.

Bollman tests Huger in various ways and makes up his mind that this is the best possible person to help him. He broaches the subject. Young Huger is only too ready--this very enterprise has been his dearest thought and his dream. The danger does not daunt him. "He did not let the gra.s.s grow under his feet," said his daughter years later, "but accepted at once."

It was not, however, purely romantic sentiment with him; he did not accede on the impulse of a moment. "I felt it to be my duty to give him all the aid in my power," said Colonel Huger to Josiah Quincy many years later. And though he may not have been conscious of it at the time, there was still another reason, for he admitted, long afterwards, "I simply considered myself the representative of the young men of America and acted accordingly."

The story may here be taken up almost in the words of Colonel Huger's daughter who wrote it down exactly as her father related it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FRANCIS KINLOCH HUGER.

This bas-relief, by the sculptor R. Tait McKenzie, shows the brave young American who, with Dr. Bollman, attempted to rescue Lafayette from the great fortress of Olmutz.]

In October, 1794, they set out from Vienna in a light traveling carriage and with two riding horses, one of them being strong enough to carry two persons if necessary. They intended to appear in the characters of a young Englishman and his traveling tutor, and they were provided with pa.s.ses for the long journey. With a.s.sumed carelessness they proceeded toward Olmutz. The gentlemen were generally riding, while their servants and the baggage were in the carriage. They went to the same inn where Dr. Bollman had stayed on his former visit. Here they remained two days, while they secretly sent a note to Lafayette and received his answer.

They paid their bill at the inn, sent their carriage on ahead to a village called Hoff, and directed their servants to await them there.

Now Bollman and Huger are riding leisurely along the level plain that surrounds the fortress. The huge, dark prison looms in the distance.

Every portion of the wide plain is visible to the sentinels at the gates, and within reach of the cannon on the walls. It is market day and many persons are pa.s.sing back and forth. The two foreign travelers look in every direction for the carriage which may bring Lafayette.

Both are eager for his coming.

At last they notice a small phaeton being driven slowly along. In the carriage they see a prisoner in a blue greatcoat with an officer beside him and an armed soldier riding behind. They spur on, and, as they pa.s.s, the prisoner gives the sign agreed upon. He raises his hat and wipes his forehead. The feelings excited by the a.s.surance that this was indeed Lafayette, Huger never to his dying day forgot. The riders look as indifferent as possible, bow slightly, and pa.s.s on.

The phaeton stops at the side of the road and Lafayette alights. He draws the officer toward a footpath that runs along the highroad at that point, and appears to be leaning on the officer as if scarcely able to walk.

"This must be the time," cries Bollman.

"He signs to us," says Huger in great excitement.

The two young men put spurs to their horses and dash up together. As they approach, Lafayette seizes the officer's sword. A struggle follows. Bollman leaps from his horse and throws the bridle to Huger.

But the flash of the drawn sword has frightened the horse; he dashes aside and gallops away. Huger dismounts, pa.s.ses his arm through his bridle, and he and Bollman seize the soldier and tear his hands from Lafayette's throat. The soldier runs toward the town, shouting and waving his cap to call the attention of the sentinels.

What was to be done? They had now but one horse. The alarm had been given. Not a minute could be lost.