Chapter V: Part 5

As his eminence was without precedent, so also was his fall. Power, fortune, family, country, all were suddenly changed for a dungeon, where, amidst cruel privations, for more than five years, he wore away life. But not in vain; for who can listen to the story of his captivity without confessing new admiration for that sublime fidelity to principle which illumined his dungeon?

With heart rent by anguish and darkened by the gathering clouds, Lafayette, accompanied by a few friends, left his army at Sedan. Traversing the frontier, in the hope of reaching Holland, he fell into the hands of the Royal Coalition; and then commenced the catalogue of indignities and hardships under which his soul seemed rather to rise than to bend. His application for a passport was answered by the jeer that his passport would be for the scaffold, while a mob of furious royalists sought to anticipate the executioner. The King of Prussia, hoping to profit from his increasing debility, suggested that his situation would be improved in return for information against France. The patriot was aroused at this attempt on his character. “The King of Prussia is very impertinent,” he replied, while composing himself to the continued rigors which beset him. First immured at Wesel on the Rhine, he was next transported in a cart, by a long journey, to the far-famed Magdeburg, whose secrets have been disclosed by Baron Trenck, where for a year he was plunged in a damp subterranean dungeon, closed by four successive doors, all fastened by iron bolts, padlocks, and chains, when, on the separate peace between Prussia and the French Republic, he was handed over to Austrian jailers, by whom he was transferred to Olmütz, an outlying fortress, then little known, but now memorable in history, on the eastern border of Austria, further east than the old castle which witnessed the imprisonment of Richard Cœur-de-Lion and the generous devotion of Blondel. Here his captivity was complete. Alone in his cell, with no object in sight except the four walls,--shut out from all communication with the world,--shut out even from all knowledge of his family, who on their part could know nothing of him,--never addressed by name,--mentioned in the bulletins of the prison only by his number,--and, to cut off all possible escape by self-destruction, deprived of knife and fork: such was now his lot. If not a slave compelled to work without wages, he was even a more wretched captive.

But never for one moment was his soul shaken in its majestic fidelity; never was his example more lofty. At the beginning, he was careful, by official declaration, to make known his principles, so that he might not be confounded with fugitive royalists. But his prison cell was a constant testimony. Letters now exist, written at peril of life, with toothpick dipped in soot moistened with vinegar, where his wonderful nature is laid bare.[96] Confessing his joy that he suffers from that despotism which he combated, rather than from the people he loved so well, he announces his equal hostility to the committees of Jacobinism and the cabinet of the Coalition,--declares his firm conviction, that, amidst all the shocks of anarchy, Liberty will not perish,--remembers with a thrill the anniversary of American Independence, as that day comes round,--says of his own Declaration of the Rights of Man, that, if he were alone in the universe, he would not hesitate to maintain it,[97] and repels with scorn every effort to vindicate him at the expense of his well-known sentiments, declaring that he would give his blood, drop by drop, to the people’s cause, and that on the scaffold his first and last words should be “Liberty and Equality,” while he charges all the wrongs, all the crimes, all the perils, all the sufferings of the Revolution upon the wretched departure from these sacred principles.[98] His political faith was grandly declared, when, addressing the Minister of the United States at London, he calls down a blessing upon our Republic, saying, “May _Liberty and Equality_, with all the virtues truly republican, honest industry, moderation, purity of manners, frankness and liberality of spirit, obedience to the laws, firmness against all usurpation, continue to prove that American Freedom has its roots deep, not only in the head, but at the bottom of the heart of its citizens! May public prosperity, happiness of individuals, and federal concord be a perpetual recompense to the United States, and an example for other people!”[99] These words of benediction, original as great, aptly define that “American Era” which our hero had already hailed, while they invoke upon our country all that virtuous heart could desire. But never did soul rise to purer heights than when, at the beginning of his captivity, he bequeathed this consoling truth as his legacy to mankind, that the satisfaction from a single service rendered to Humanity outweighs any suffering inflicted by enemies, or even by the ingratitude of the people,[100]--and then, as the dungeon closed upon him, forgetting all that he was called to undergo, his own personal afflictions and prolonged captivity, he sends his thoughts to the poor slaves on his distant plantation in Cayenne, whose emancipation he had sought to accomplish. In the universal wreck of his fortunes he knew not what had become of this plantation, but he trusts that his wife “will take care that the blacks who cultivate it shall preserve their liberty.”[101] Search history, whether ancient or modern pages, let Greece and Rome testify, but you can find nothing more sublimely touching than this voice from that heavy-bolted dungeon, serenely pleading for the liberty of others far away. That noblest woman, mated with him in soul as in marriage vow, had already exerted herself to accomplish this purpose,--but, alas! without effect. Cruelly was their liberty confiscated with his estates.[102]

This confiscation, where Liberty itself disappeared, was the terrible climax of that proscription which now enveloped his friends and his family. In the prevailing masquerade of blood the charge of _Fayettism_ was equivalent to a decree of death. Nor was tender woman spared. The grandmother, the mother, and the sister of his wife, all of the same ducal house, perished on the scaffold. His wife was thrown into prison, and escaped the same fate only by the timely overthrow of Robespierre. Regaining liberty after a cruel imprisonment of sixteen months, her maternal care was for her son, George Washington Lafayette, still a boy, whom she sent to his great namesake at Mount Vernon with a letter from herself, and then, accompanied by her two youthful daughters, with the protection of an American passport, she makes her way across Germany to Vienna, where she throws herself before the Imperial despot. To her prayer for the release of her husband, he answers that “his hands are tied”; but, moved by her devotion, so womanly, so wifely, so heroic, he yields so far as to consent that she, with her daughters, may share his wretched captivity. Penetrating his dungeon, she learned that the first change of raiment allowed him was on her arrival, when the tattered rags which scarcely covered his emaciated form were exchanged for a garb of coarsest material,--an indulgence not accorded without the insult of informing him that this had been purposely sought, as with such alone was he worthy to be clothed.[103] Three silver forks in her little inventory were seized by the jailer, and this refined family during a lingering imprisonment were driven to eat with their fingers. These things are not to be forgotten, because, while exhibiting the cruelty of despotic power, against which the world now rises in judgment, they show how his fidelity was tried, as also that of his family. The wife, becoming ill, was refused permission to leave the dungeon for medical advice at Vienna, except on condition of not returning, when she beautifully declared, for herself and her daughters, that they had agreed to participate the rigors of his captivity, and now repeated, with all their hearts, that they were happier with him in the dungeon than they could be anywhere else without him. Lafayette himself, when tempted by offer of release on certain conditions or promises, was stern as his jailer, and refused inexorably,--choosing to suffer, sooner than compromise in any respect his rights and duties as Frenchman or as American citizen, which latter title he always claimed.

Vain, during this long period, was every effort for his liberation. Not Fox, thundering in the British Parliament,--not the gentler voice of Wilberforce, uniting with Fox,--not Cornwallis, his old enemy at Yorktown, personally pleading with the Emperor himself,[104]--not Washington, prompting our Ministers abroad and writing directly to the Emperor, could open these prison doors.[105] Lafayette was declared to be a representative not only of the French Revolution, but of Universal Enfranchisement, whose liberty was incompatible with the safety of European governments: therefore must he be immured in a dungeon. But private enterprise, inspired by those generous promptings which are the glory of the human heart, for a moment seemed about to prevail. This was before the arrival of his wife and daughters. The health of the imprisoned champion had suffered to such degree, that, under medical direction, the rigors of confinement were relaxed so far as to allow occasional exercise in the open air. Here was an opportunity for which two friends, Bollmann, a German, and Huger, an American, of South Carolina, had watched for months, and they were able secretly to apprise the captive of their plans. With their assistance, after desperate conflict, in which his hand was torn to the bone, he succeeded in disarming the guards, and then enjoyed a gleam of liberty. It was a gleam only. Helped on a horse by one of his devoted friends, he started; but, ignorant of the way, and oppressed with fatigue, wounded, bleeding, after a flight of twenty-four hours, he was recaptured, brought back, and plunged again into the worst torments of his dungeon. This endeavor, though unsuccessful, is never read without a gush of gratitude towards the courageous men, who, taking life in hand, braved Austrian tyranny. Human nature seems more beautiful from their example.[106]

All had now failed, and the dungeon seemed to have closed upon Lafayette forever. The hearts of his friends were wrung with anguish, and especially here in America. Washington, at the fireside of Mount Vernon, shed tears for his friend,--while to that noble wife, who in all things was not less faithful than her heroic husband, he addressed an earnest letter, regretting that he had not words to convey his feelings, and placing a considerable sum of money to her credit, which he mentioned as the least he was indebted for services, of which he had never yet received an account.[107] But an intervention was at hand which would not be denied. It was the early sword of Napoleon Bonaparte, which, flashing across the Alps from his Italian victories, broke open the dungeon of Olmütz. Lafayette had been a captive five years,--his wife and daughters shut up with him twenty-two months. In the negotiations ending in the Treaty of Campo Formio, it was required, under special instructions from the French Directory, that he should be released; and the conqueror was heard to say afterwards, that, among all the sacrifices exacted of tottering Austria, not one was so difficult to obtain. The captive of many years, at last in the enjoyment of liberty, hastened to Hamburg, where he found welcome with the American consul.

This was in the autumn of 1797, and he was forty years of age. But life with him, though brief in years, had been extended by events full of lessons never to be forgotten; above all was that great lesson of perpetual fealty to Human Rights. And now this same lesson was illustrated again. As in dungeon, so in exile, Lafayette could not forget the cause to which his life was devoted, especially the liberty of the African. From the obscure retreat in Holstein, where he lingered, he addresses Clarkson, the English Abolitionist, in eloquent words, against the Slave-Trade, which was still the scandal of nations, and announces that the mission of France, while healing the wounds of the past, should be to assure _Liberty for all, whether white or black_, under the equal protection of Law.[108] Better far such mission than battle and conquest, which this ambitious nation craved. In a letter to Washington at the same time he gives utterance to his aspiration, that, for the good of the world, the North and the South should gradually adopt the principles on which the Independence and the Liberty of the United States have been happily founded.[109] How in thinking of himself Lafayette thought instinctively of the slave appears in an incident of exile at this time. In the straitened circumstances to which he was reduced, stripped of the wealth to which he was born, poor and homeless, his thoughts turned to the broad continent across the Atlantic, and he conceived the plan of buying a farm,--although without what he denominates “the first dollar” necessary,--either in Virginia, not far from what he calls the “Federal City,” or in New England, not far from Boston,--and thus, in one of those tender letters to his wife, he balances between these two places. “I am aware, dear Adrienne,” he writes, under date of 5th August, 1799, “that I, who complain of the serfs of Holstein, as something very melancholy to a friend of Liberty, should find in the valley of the Shenandoah negro slaves; for Equality, which in the Northern States is for everybody, exists in the Southern States for the whites only. Therefore, while I perceive all the reasons which should draw us to the neighborhood of Mount Vernon and the seat of the Federal Union, yet I should prefer New England.”[110] Never more simply or conclusively was the special difference between North and South presented for judgment.

Regaining his country at last, while the outlawry, though a dead letter, was not formally annulled, he withdrew to the retirement of Lagrange, where, surrounded by his family, he maintained unsullied the integrity of his great character,--turning aside from all temptation, and never for a moment swerving from completest devotion to that cause for which he had done and suffered so much. Others accepted office and honor; he would not. Bonaparte wished to make him Senator; Lafayette declined, as he afterwards declined the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honor from the same hand. Always himself, he touched the key-note of his life, when, in a brief address to his fellow-citizens, on refusing a post of dignity in 1802, he announced his hope that the miracles of battle then surprising them might be followed not only by peace abroad, but by domestic tranquillity founded on the immutable principles of Justice. At no moment is he more exemplary in firmness than when on the proposition that Bonaparte should be Consul for life he openly voted “No,” and added, “I cannot vote for such a magistracy, until Liberty has been sufficiently guarantied.”[111] In a noble letter[112] he pleads with the successful warrior for the re-establishment of Liberty, saying that all things combine to fit him for this great work, which shall subdue danger and calm distrust. Bonaparte did not hearken to these words of patriot wisdom, but drove still further in mad career. Lafayette, withdrawing yet more into the repose of private life, avoided a contest, which he foresaw must be futile, with a ruler having claims upon his gratitude which he never ceased to acknowledge.

But it was not in his nature to despair. President Jefferson urged him in 1804, after the acquisition of Louisiana, to quit France, where the ground trembled beneath his feet, and come to a land where he could do so much good,--holding before him the governorship of the new Territory, and declaring that his presence alone would be better for its tranquillity than an army of ten thousand men. But Lafayette avowed his unwillingness to take a step that should seem to abandon the destinies of his own country, duty to which forbade him to despair of seeing established on the foundation of a just and generous Liberty,--in one word, American Liberty.[113]

While in retirement, he was visited by temptation in yet another form, and again his fidelity shines forth. By Act of Congress, repaying in part the accumulated debt of the nation, he had become proprietor of a large territory in Louisiana, to which in his reduced condition he naturally looked for means. Persons familiar with the country advised him to set up a manufacture of tiles, promising from it, what he so much desired, “a fixed revenue”; but he dismissed the proposition, as “founded upon a purchased employment of thirty slaves,”--“a thing,” said he, “_I detest_, and shall never do”; and then, after expressing his wish that in letting the land there should be “a first condition to employ none but free hands, or, if negroes of New Orleans be admitted, to stipulate their liberty in a short time,” he proceeds to say, in memorable words: “I would not be concerned in transactions in a negro country, _unless not only my personal doings were unsullied with Slavery, but I had provided with others to render the very spot productive of Freedom_.”[114] This was in 1805, before the Slave-Trade was yet abolished, and when Slavery was just beginning its fatal empire over our Republic. But it was only part of that faithful testimony which he bore so constantly.

Such a character was a perpetual protest, and Napoleon in the pride of colossal power confessed it. Son and son-in-law, though distinguished, could not obtain promotion,--the Emperor himself on one occasion erasing their names, with the tyrannical ejaculation, “These Lafayettes cross my path everywhere.” The true reason was disclosed, when, at another time, he said: “Lafayette alone in France holds fast to his original ideas of Liberty. Though tranquil now, he will reappear, if occasion offers.” Stronger homage to absolute fidelity could not be. He was tranquil, through all the splendid agony of the Empire, its marvellous conquests and its tremendous disasters,--tranquil at the victories of Austerlitz, Jena, Friedland, and Wagram, at the retreat from Moscow, at the stunning news from Leipsic, at the capitulation of Paris. As little could he participate in the restoration of Louis as in the usurpation of Napoleon. At last he reappeared. It was on the return from Elba, hazarding that peace purchased at such sacrifice, when, by characteristic action in harmony with his whole career, his present was linked with his past, and the chief of the Great Revolution, declining again the honors of the Senate and the title of Count, declaring, that, if ever again he entered public life, it must be as representative of the people, came forward as simple deputy, and then at an early day, with happy phrase, rallied the Chamber to an attitude of independence which should decide “whether it would be called a national representation or a Napoleon club.” The disaster of Waterloo hastened the impending crisis. The Emperor menaced a dissolution of the Chamber and a dictatorship. The time had come for the hero of Liberty. He spoke, and with a voice that had been silent for a generation bravely recalled the sacred cause of which he was the veteran, and that tri-color flag which was the symbol of Liberty, Equality, and Public Order. On his motion the Chamber declared itself permanent, and any attempt to dissolve it treason; and then, while vindicating France against the imputation of fickleness towards Napoleon, whom it had followed over uncounted fields, from the sands of Egypt to the snows of Russia, the Defender of Liberty insisted upon his abdication. Yet, true always to every just sentiment of gratitude and humanity, he scorned the idea of surrendering the fallen man to the Allies, saying he was “astonished that such a proposition should be addressed to a prisoner of Olmütz,”[115] and he sought to provide means for escape to America, showing him every consideration consistent with duty to the country.

The fall of Napoleon was followed by the restoration of the Bourbons to the throne of France, lasting from 1815 to 1830, and during much of this period Lafayette, released from all constraint, was member of the Chamber of Deputies. The King, who in early life had known him personally, trembled at his election. As he entered the Chamber for the first time, every eye turned to him, and every tongue pronounced his name with admiration, hope, or fear; nor was any member observed afterwards with equal interest. He took his seat on the extreme left, and always kept it. His attendance was marked by that fidelity which belonged to his nature; nor did advancing years or any disgust interfere with the constant and unwearied discharge of his parliamentary duties. Here, as everywhere, he was open, sincere, and brave. Overtopping others in character, he was conspicuous also in debate. Though not a rhetorician, he spoke with ease and effect, while every word had the inspiration of noble ideas, often expressed with sententious force. Especially was he moved whenever Liberty came in question; nor did the disasters falling upon him and his house, or any other consideration, make him hesitate to vindicate the Revolution, alike in substantial results and in principles. “Notwithstanding,” he said, “all that was afterwards lost through anarchy, terrorism, bankruptcy, and civil war, in spite of a terrible struggle against all Europe, there remains the incontestable truth, that agriculture, industry, public instruction, the comfort and independence of three quarters of the population, and the public morals, have been improved to a degree of which there is no example in any equal period of history, or in any other part of the Old World.”[116] With brilliant effect he portrayed the wrongs and abuses which disappeared before what he liked to call “the flag of Liberty, Equality, and Public Order.”[117] And he attributed the evils of France less to the madness of violence than to compromise of conscience by timid men. In the same lofty spirit he denounced the Holy Alliance as “a vast and powerful league whose object was to enslave and brutify mankind.”[118] By such utterances were the people schooled and elevated. The inspiration which was his own inner light he imparted to others.

* * * * *

His parliamentary career was interrupted by an episode which belongs to the poetry of history. On the unanimous invitation of the Congress of the United States, he again visited the land whose Independence he helped to secure. This was in 1824. Forty years had passed since he was last here. But throughout this long period of a life transcendent in activity and privations, as well as in fame, he had ever turned with fondness to the scene of his early consecration, and proudly avowed himself American in heart and American in principle. His early compeers were all numbered with the dead, and he remained sole survivor among the generals of Washington. But the people had multiplied, and the country had grown in wealth and power. All rose to meet his coming, and he was welcomed everywhere as the Nation’s guest. To the inquiry, on his landing at New York, how he would be addressed, he replied, “As an American General,”--thus discarding again the title of his birth. From beginning to end, men and women, young and old, official bodies, towns, cities, States, Congress, all vied in testimonies of devotion and gratitude, while the children of the schools, boys and maidens, swelled the incomparable holiday, which, stretching from North to South, and covering the whole country, absorbed for the time every difference, and made all feel as children of one household. The strong and universal sentiment found expression in familiar words, repeated everywhere:--

“We bow not the neck,
We bend not the knee,
But our hearts, Lafayette,
We surrender to thee.”

It belongs to the glory of Lafayette that he inspired this sentiment, and it belongs to the glory of our country to have felt it. As there was never such a guest, so was there never such a host. They were alike without parallel. But amidst this grandest hospitality, binding him by new ties, he kept the loyalty of his heart: he did not forget the African slave.[119]

The visit was full of memorable incidents, sometimes most touching, among which I select a scene little known. At one of those receptions occurring wherever the national guest appeared, a veteran of the Revolution, in his original Continental uniform, with the addition of a small blanket, or rather piece of blanket, upon the shoulders, and with his ancient musket, that had seen service on many fields, came forward. Drawing himself up in the stiff manner of the old-fashioned drill, he made a military salute, which Lafayette returned with affection, tears starting to his eyes,--for he remembered well that uniform, and saw that an old soldier, more venerable than himself in years, stood before him. “Do you know me?” said the soldier,--for the manner of the General persuaded him that he was personally remembered, although nearly fifty years had passed since their service together. “Indeed, I cannot remember you,” the General replied frankly. “Do you remember the frosts and snows of Valley Forge?” “I can never forget them,” said Lafayette. The veteran then related, that, one freezing night, as the General went his rounds, he came upon a sentry thinly clad, with shoes of raw cowhide and without stockings, about to perish with cold; that he took the musket of the sentry, saying to him, “Go to my hut; you will find stockings there, and a blanket, which, after warming yourself, you will bring here; meanwhile give me your musket, and I will keep guard.” “I obeyed,” the veteran continued, “and returning to my post refreshed, you cut the blanket in two, retaining one half and giving me the other. Here, General, is that half, and I am the sentry whose life you saved.” Saint Martin dividing his cloak is a kindred story of the Church, portrayed by the genius of Vandyck.[120] Lafayette, at the date of his charity, was younger even than the Saint, and the act was not less saintly. But this is only an instance of the gratitude he met. By such tribute, in accord with the universal popular heart, was the triumph of our benefactor carried beyond that of any Roman ascending the Capitol with the spoils of war.

* * * * *

And this might have been the crown even of his exalted life. But at home in France there was yet further need of him. In the madness of tyranny, Charles the Tenth undertook by arbitrary ordinance to trample on popular rights, and to subvert the Charter under which he held his throne. The people were aroused. The streets of Paris were filled with barricades. France was heaving as in other days. Then turned all eyes to the patriarch of Lagrange, who, already hero of two revolutions, commanded confidence alike by his principles and his bravery. Summoned from his country home, he repaired to Paris, imparting instant character to the movement. With a few devoted friends about him,--one of whom is a dear and honored friend of my own, Dr. Howe, of Boston,--this venerable citizen, seventy-three years of age, exposed to all the perils of the conflict hotly raging in the streets between the people and the troops, was conducted on foot across barricades to the Hôtel de Ville, and once more placed at the head of the National Guard. “Liberty shall triumph,” said the veteran, “or we will all perish together.”[121] Charles the Tenth ceased to reign, and the Revolution of 1830 was accomplished. The fortunes of France were now in the hands of Lafayette. He was again what Madame de Staël had called him at an earlier day, master of events. It rested with him to choose. He might have made a Republic, of which he would have been acknowledged head. But, cautious of Public Order, which with him was next to Liberty, mindful of that moderation which he had always cultivated, and unwilling, if Liberty were safe, to provoke a civil contest, drenching France again in fraternal blood, he proposed “a popular throne surrounded by republican institutions,” and the Duke of Orléans, under the name of Louis Philippe, became king. Clearly his own preference was for a Republic on the American model, but he yielded this cherished idea, satisfied that at last Liberty had prevailed, while peace was assured to his blood-stained country. If the republican throne fell short of his just expectations, it was because, against high injunction, he had put trust in princes.

The loftiness of his character was revealed, when, at a menace of violence by the excited populace, he issued a general order, as commander of the National Guard, announcing himself as “the man of Liberty and Public Order, loving popularity far more than life, but determined to sacrifice both rather than fail in any duty and tolerate a crime,--persuaded that no end justifies means which public or private morals disown.”[122]

Soon again he laid down his great command, contenting himself with his farm and his duties as deputy. But his heart went wherever Liberty was struggling,--now with the Pole, and then with the African slave. To the rights of the latter he had borne true and unfaltering loyalty at all times and in all places, beginning with that memorable appeal to Washington on the consummation of Independence, and repeated in two triumphal visits to our country,--also in public debate, in conversation, in correspondence,--in the interesting experiment at Cayenne, and, more affecting still, in the dungeon of arbitrary power. Every slave, according to him, has a natural right to immediate emancipation, whether by concession or force; and this principle he declared above all question.[123] He knew no distinction of color, as he continually showed. His first letter to President John Quincy Adams, after return from his American triumph, mentions that he had dined in the company of two commissioners from Hayti, one a mulatto and the other entirely black, and he was “well pleased with their good sense and good manners.”[124] Tenderly he touched this great question in our own country; but his constancy in this respect shows how it haunted and perplexed him, like a Sphinx with a perpetual riddle. He could not understand how men who had fought for their own liberty could deny liberty to others. But he did not despair, although, on one occasion, when this inconsistency glared upon him, his impatient philanthropy exclaimed, that he would never have drawn his sword for America, had he known that it was to found a government sanctioning Slavery.

* * * * *

The time had come for this great life to close. A sudden illness, contracted in following on foot the funeral of a colleague, confined him to his bed. As his case became critical, the Chamber of Deputies, by solemn vote,--perhaps without example in parliamentary history,--directed their President to inquire of George Washington Lafayette after the health of his illustrious parent. On the following day, May 20, 1834, he died, aged seventy-seven.

The ruling passion of his life was strong to the close. As at the beginning, so at the end, he was all for Human Rights. This ruled his mind and filled his heart. His last public speech was in behalf of political refugees seeking shelter in France from the proscription of arbitrary power.[125] The last lines traced by his hand, even after the beginning of his fatal illness, attest his joy at that great act of Emancipation by which England had just given freedom to her slaves. “Nobly,” he wrote, “has the public treasure been employed!”[126] And these last words still resound in our ears, speaking from his tomb.

* * * * *

Such was Lafayette. At the tidings of his death, there was mourning in two hemispheres, and the saying of Pericles seemed to be accomplished, that “To the illustrious the whole earth is a sepulchre.”[127] It was felt that one had gone whose place was among the great names of history, combining the double fame of hero and martyr, heightened by the tenderness of personal attachment and gratitude. Nor could such example belong to France or America only. Living for all, his renown became the common property of the whole Human Family. The words of the poet were revived:--

“Ne’er to these chambers where the mighty rest
Since their foundation came a nobler guest;
Nor e’er was to the bowers of bliss conveyed
A fairer spirit or more welcome shade.”[128]

Judge him by the simple record of his life, and you will confess his greatness. Judge him by the motives of his conduct, and you will bend with reverence before him. More than any other man in history he is the impersonation of Liberty. His face is radiant with its glory, as his heart was filled with its sweetness. His was that new order of greatness destined soon to displace the old. Peculiar and original, he was without predecessors. Many will come after him, but there were none before him. He was founder, inventor, poet, as much as if he had built a city, discovered ether, or composed an epic. On his foundation all mankind will build; through his discovery all will be aided; by his epic all will be uplifted. Early and intuitively he saw man as brother, and recognized the equal rights of all. Especially was he precocious in asserting the equal rights of the African slave. His supreme devotion to Humanity against all obstacles was ennobled by that divine constancy and uprightness which from youth’s spring to the winter of venerable years made him always the same,--in youth showing the firmness of age, and in age showing the ardor of youth,--ever steady when others were fickle, ever faithful when others were false,--holding cheap all that birth, wealth, or power could bestow,--renouncing even the favor of fellow-citizens, which he loved so well,--content with virtue as his only nobility,--and whether placed on the dazzling heights of worldly ambition or plunged in the depths of a dungeon, always true to the same great principles, and making even the dungeon witness of his unequalled fidelity.

By the side of such sublime virtue what were his eminent French contemporaries? What was Mirabeau, with life sullied by impurity and dishonored by a bribe? What was Talleyrand, with heartless talent devoted to his personal success? What was Robespierre, with impracticable endeavors baptized in blood? What was Napoleon himself, whose surpassing powers to fix fortune by profound combinations, or to seize it with irresistible arm, were debased by the brutality of selfishness? These are the four chief characters of the Revolution, already dropping from the firmament as men learn to appreciate those principles by which Humanity is advanced. Lafayette ascends as they disappear, while the world hails that Universal Enfranchisement which he served so well. As the mighty triumph is achieved, which he clearly foresaw, immense will be his reward among men.

Great he was, indeed,--not as author, although he has written what we are glad to read,--not as orator, although he has spoken much and well,--not as soldier, although he displayed both bravery and military genius,--not even as statesman, versed in the science of government, although he saw instinctively the relations of men to government. Nor did his sympathetic nature possess the power always to curb the passions of men, or to hurl the bolts by which wickedness is driven back. Not on these accounts is he great. Call him less a force than an influence, less “king of men” than servant of Humanity,--his name is destined to be a spell beyond that of any king, while it shines aloft like a star. Great he is as one of earth’s benefactors, possessing in largest measure that best gift from God to man, the genius of beneficence sustained to the last by perfect honesty; great, too, he is as an early, constant Republican, who saw the beauty and practicability of Republican Institutions as the expression of a true civilization, and upheld them always; and great he is as example, which, so long as history endures, must inspire author, orator, soldier, and statesman all alike to labor, and, if need be, to suffer for Human Rights. The fame of such a character, brightening with the Progress of Humanity, can be measured only by the limits of a world’s gratitude and the bounds of time.

APPENDIX.

An incident in connection with the delivery of this address at
Philadelphia illustrates the sensitive condition of the public
mind at the time. Mr. Sumner was announced to give it before
“The People’s Literary Institute,” when he received a letter
from the President of the Institute, which will be understood
by his reply.

“SENATE CHAMBER, December 19, 1860.

“DEAR SIR,--I have been honored by your official
communication as President of the People’s Literary
Institute of Philadelphia, bearing date 17th December,
in which you say, ‘that the patrons of the Institute are
persons of all shades of political opinion, and that in the
present excited state of the public mind it is desirable
that Slavery and Antislavery should not be touched by its
lecturers.’ This is written to govern me on the evening of
the 27th of December, when, according to invitation, I was
to address the Institute.

“With much misgiving I accepted the place urged upon me in
your course. For some time I declined it, and yielded only
to the most pressing solicitation. Afterwards, in reply to
an inquiry from one of your officers, I let it be known
that my subject would be ‘Lafayette,’ and I think you have
already announced the same in your course. You are too
familiar with the career of this constant friend of Human
Freedom not to know that it cannot be adequately presented
without touching upon the topics which you forbid. It was
the peculiar glory of this illustrious man, that from his
early days to his death-bed he strove always for Human
Freedom, and especially sought to remove the intolerable
evil of African Slavery. To leave so great a part of his
life untouched would be an infidelity I cannot commit.
Indeed, I do not think your careful judgment could approve
such an act. If at any other time it might be done, you
will see that at this moment, when persons acting in
behalf of Slavery openly threaten _treason_, silence upon
testimony so powerful would be nearly akin to complicity
with the treason. The pirates of the Caribbean Sea are said
to have carefully recited the Ten Commandments, omitting
‘Thou shalt not steal.’ A precedent like this I have no
disposition to follow.

“Even if the subject of my lecture did not require me
to infringe your instructions, I beg to assure you that I
could not consent to speak under any such constraint. For
many years I have addressed associations, societies, and
meetings of all kinds; but never before have I been met by
any hint of interference with the completest latitude of
speech, according to my sense of the duties and proprieties
of the occasion. Long accustomed to free speech, I am too
old now to renounce it.

“There are two recent events in Philadelphia which furnish
a commentary upon your letter. The first is a resolution
adopted at a public meeting, with the Mayor in the chair,
openly proclaiming that free speech must not be permitted
at the North; and the other is a practical illustration of
this tyranny in the refusal to hear the accomplished Mr.
Curtis, when announced to lecture before your Institute on
‘The Policy of Honesty.’ All this is done for the sake of
Slavery, and in the hope of soothing traitors. You can know
little of me, if you suppose that I can take part in any
such work. Of course my place in your list is now vacant.

“I observe that your letter, although signed officially
as President of the People’s Institute, is marked
‘_Confidential_.’ I have no desire to draw your name into
any public discussion; but it is obvious that my refusal to
take part in your course cannot be frankly stated without
reference to what you have written.

“I have the honor to be, dear Sir,

“Your obedient servant,

“CHARLES SUMNER.

“---- ----,
“President of the People’s Literary Institute, Philadelphia.”

December 22, Mr. Sumner received from the President of the
Institute the following telegram:--

“Permit me to withdraw my letter. Come and speak freely. Do
not decline. I have written you to-day.”

This was followed by a letter from the President, repeating his
request, and saying, among other things,--

“That the public are very desirous to hear you, and will be
greatly disappointed, if you cancel the engagement.

“That, in common with the Managers and patrons of the
Institute, I earnestly hope that you will reconsider your
determination not to speak on the 27th instant, and that
you will consent to deliver the lecture on ‘Lafayette,’
which has been advertised, and which the people expect,
without any feeling of constraint as to the treatment of
the subject.”

Accordingly, December 27, Mr. Sumner spoke for the first time
in Philadelphia. A few sentences from the _Press_ show how he
was received.

“The announcement that Hon. Charles Sumner would lecture
at Concert Hall, before the People’s Literary Institute,
last evening, attracted an immense audience. At an early
hour the hall was filled to its utmost sitting and standing
capacity, and there must have been enough turned away,
after the sale of tickets was discontinued at the door, to
have filled another hall of equal size. The audience was
also of the most respectable character.…

“When the lecturer entered the platform, he was greeted
with uproarious applause. For several minutes the
audience--the greater part of whom rose to receive
him--continued clapping, cheering, and waving their
handkerchiefs.…

“He was introduced to the audience by President Allen, of
Girard College, who said that the scholar, the eloquent
orator, and the steadfast friend of man, all found a
synonym in the name of the statesman who was now to address
them; and his subject was suggestive to all lovers of
Liberty. He had now the pleasure of introducing the Hon.
Charles Sumner, who was to speak on Lafayette. The lecture
which followed occupied two hours and a quarter in its
delivery, and was given without notes.”

The address on Lafayette was the last of a series during the
year, by which Mr. Sumner had striven to direct public opinion
against Slavery, so at least that it should not be carried
into the Territories. Amidst hostile criticism there were
friendly expressions, showing that he had not spoken in vain.
Of these, one is presented as applicable to the series. It is
the Dedication of the Thanksgiving Sermon, Sunday Evening,
November 11, 1860, by Rev. Gilbert Haven, entitled, “The Cause
and Consequence of the Election of Abraham Lincoln.”

“TO THE HON. CHARLES SUMNER:

“Who has spoken the bravest words for Liberty in the most
perilous places; who has suffered in behalf of the Slave
only less than those who wear the martyr’s crown; who
has come forth from that suffering with the profoundest,
because experimental, sympathy with the Oppressed, with
a more intense hatred of the Oppression, yet without
any bitterness of heart against the Oppressor; who will
stand forth in the future times as the clearest-eyed,
boldest-tongued, and purest-hearted Statesman of the
age: these few words of Thanksgiving and Praise, for the
manifestation of the Presence and Power of the ALMIGHTY
REDEEMER in this greatest work of our time, are most
respectfully dedicated.”

DISUNION AND A SOUTHERN CONFEDERACY: THE OBJECT.

REMARKS IN THE SENATE, DECEMBER 10, 1860.

The opening of Congress was signalized by two things:
first, the Message of President Buchanan, December 4, 1860,
misrepresenting the North, and practically abdicating the power
to control rebellious States; and, secondly, the development of
a determination on the part of certain States at the South to
secede from the Union. Here South Carolina took the lead.

* * * * *

In the Senate, December 6th, Mr. Powell, of Kentucky, brought
forward a resolution, which, after modification by himself, was
as follows.

“_Resolved_, That so much of the President’s Message as
relates to the present agitated and distracted condition of
the country, and the grievances between the slaveholding
and the non-slaveholding States, be referred to a special
committee of thirteen members, and that said committee be
instructed to inquire into the present condition of the
country and report by bill or otherwise.”

In the consideration of this resolution a debate ensued
on the state of the Union, and the resolution was adopted
December 18th. The committee appointed by the Vice-President,
Mr. Breckinridge, was Mr. Powell of Kentucky, the mover, Mr.
Hunter of Virginia, Mr. Crittenden of Kentucky, Mr. Seward
of New York, Mr. Toombs of Georgia, Mr. Douglas of Illinois,
Mr. Collamer of Vermont, Mr. Jefferson Davis of Mississippi,
Mr. Wade of Ohio, Mr. Bigler of Pennsylvania, Mr. Rice of
Minnesota, Mr. Doolittle of Wisconsin, and Mr. Grimes of Iowa.
December 31st, Mr. Powell reported to the Senate “that the
Committee have not been able to agree upon any general plan
of adjustment.” In the propositions offered in committee by
Mr. Douglas we first meet that for the disfranchisement of the
colored race, even where already voters, which was part of the
Crittenden Compromise in its final form.[129]

Immediately after the first reading of Mr. Powell’s resolution
for the appointment of a committee Mr. Sumner spoke as follows.

MR. PRESIDENT,--I have no desire to make a speech at this time, nor to take any part in the discussion that has commenced. I can bear yet a little longer the misrepresentations in the President’s Message, and I believe the North can bear them yet a little longer. The time will come, perhaps, when I shall deem it my duty to set forth those things in the light of reason and of history; meanwhile I content myself with simply offering to the Senate testimony of direct and most authoritative bearing upon the present state of the Union. If I may adopt the language of the Senator from Mississippi [Mr. JEFFERSON DAVIS], it will help us to make the diagnosis of the present disease in the body politic.

I hold in my hand an unpublished autograph letter, written by General Jackson while President of the United States, and addressed to a clergyman in a slaveholding State. Omitting certain sentences which are of a purely private nature, the letter is as follows.

“[_Private._] “WASHINGTON, May 1, 1833.

“MY DEAR SIR,-- … I have had a laborious task here, but
Nullification is dead; and its actors and courtiers will only
be remembered by the people to be execrated for their wicked
designs to sever and destroy the only good government on the
globe, and that prosperity and happiness we enjoy over every
other portion of the world. Haman’s gallows ought to be the
fate of all such ambitious men, who would involve their country
in civil war, and all the evils in its train, that they might
reign and ride on its whirlwinds and direct the storm. The
free people of these United States have spoken, and consigned
these wicked demagogues to their proper doom. Take care of
your Nullifiers; you have them among you; let them meet with
the indignant frowns of every man who loves his country. The
Tariff, it is _now_”--

and he underscores, or italicizes, the word “now”--

“known, was a mere pretext. Its burden was on your coarse
woollens. By the law of July, 1832, coarse woollen was reduced
to five per cent for the benefit of the South. Mr. Clay’s bill
takes it up and classes it with woollens at fifty per cent,
reduces it gradually down to twenty per cent, and there it
is to remain, and Mr. Calhoun and all the Nullifiers agree
to the principle. The cash duties and home valuation will be
equal to fifteen per cent more, and after the year 1842 you
pay on coarse woollens thirty-five per cent. If this is not
protection, I cannot understand; therefore the Tariff was only
the pretext, and Disunion and a Southern Confederacy the real
object. The next pretext will be the Negro or Slavery Question.

“My health is not good, but is improving a little. Present
me kindly to your lady and family, and believe me to be your
friend. I will always be happy to hear from you.

“ANDREW JACKSON.

“THE REV. ANDREW J. CRAWFORD.”[130]

Here is the original autograph letter, in the well-known, unmistakable, bold, broad handwriting. [_Here Mr. Sumner held the letter up._] These are the words of a patriot slaveholder of Tennessee, addressed to a patriot clergyman of a slaveholding State, and they are directly applicable to the present hour. Of practical sense, of inflexible purpose, and of various experience, Andrew Jackson saw intuitively the springs and motives of human conduct, while he loved his country with a firm and all-embracing attachment. Thus inspired, he was able to judge the present and to discern the future. The Tariff, in his opinion, was a pretext only,--Disunion and a Southern Confederacy the real object. “The next pretext,” says he,--and you, Sir, cannot fail to mark the words,--“will be the Negro or Slavery Question.” These, Sir, are his words, not mine. Such is his emphatic judgment. Words and judgment now belong to history; nor can they be assailed without assailing one of the greatest examples that a slaveholding community has given to our common country.

ATTEMPT AT COMPROMISE: THE CRITTENDEN PROPOSITIONS.

INCIDENTS AND NOTES, DECEMBER 18, 1860, TO MARCH 4, 1861.

Before the organization of the Committee of Thirteen on the
State of the Union, mentioned in the preceding article, Mr.
Crittenden brought forward a joint resolution, December 18,
1860, containing propositions of Compromise, which soon became
known by the name of their author. These propositions were
extensive in character, covering amendments to the Constitution
and recommendations to the States. Afterwards, January 3, 1861,
he reintroduced his propositions, with a new preamble, and
with two additional amendments to the Constitution. That such
propositions could have been seriously presented as a basis of
Union shows the exacting spirit of Slavery, and the deplorable
insensibility to great principles.

The Compromise in its final form opened with a Constitutional
prohibition of Slavery in all territory of the United States
north of 36° 30´, but on the other hand it was expressly
declared that “in all the territory now held, or hereafter
to be acquired, south of said line of latitude, _Slavery of
the African race is hereby recognized as existing_, and shall
not be interfered with by Congress, but shall be protected as
property by all the departments of the Territorial Government
during its continuance”; and any territory north or south of
this line was to be admitted into the Union as a State with
or without Slavery, as the Constitution of such new State
might provide. It was further declared that Congress should
have no power to abolish Slavery in places under its exclusive
jurisdiction and within the limits of slaveholding States;
that Congress should have no power to abolish Slavery in the
District of Columbia, so long as it exists in the adjoining
States of Virginia and Maryland, or either, nor without the
consent of the inhabitants, nor without just compensation to
slave-owners who do not consent to such abolishment; that
Congress should not prohibit officers of the Federal [National]
Government, or Members of Congress, whose duties require them
to be in the District, from bringing with them their slaves and
holding them as such; and that Congress should have no power
to prohibit or hinder the transportation of slaves from one
State to another, or to a Territory in which slaves are by law
permitted to be held, whether that transportation be by land,
navigable rivers, or by sea.

Then followed Constitutional amendments, providing that the
United States should pay to the owner of a fugitive slave
the full value of such slave, in case of obstruction to the
recovery thereof,--also providing that no future amendment of
the Constitution should affect these articles, or the existing
provisions relating to slave representation and the surrender
of fugitives from service, or give to Congress any power to
abolish or interfere with Slavery in any of the States where it
exists.

Then followed another Constitutional amendment, providing
that “the elective franchise and the right to hold office,
whether Federal [National], State, Territorial, or municipal,
shall not be exercised by persons who are in whole or in
part of the African race,”--and still another, providing
for the acquisition of “districts of country in Africa and
South America” for the colonization of “free negroes and
mulattoes.”[131]

Besides these amendments to the Constitution, the joint
resolution, in order “to remove all just cause for the popular
discontent and agitation which now disturb the peace of the
country and threaten the stability of its institutions,”
proceeded to declare, that the laws now in force for the
recovery of fugitive slaves are in strict pursuance of the
plain and mandatory provisions of the Constitution, that
the slaveholding States are entitled to their faithful
observance and execution, and that laws should be made for the
punishment of those who illegally interfere to prevent their
execution,--that State laws interfering with the recovery of
fugitive slaves (referring to Personal Liberty Laws) should be
repealed, that the Fugitive Slave Act of September 18, 1850,
should be amended in certain particulars, and that the laws
for the suppression of the African Slave-Trade should be made
effectual.

The Crittenden Compromise was encountered in the Senate by the
following counter propositions, offered by Mr. Clark, of New
Hampshire, January 9, 1861.