Chapter LXXVIII: Introduction (3)

"God forgive me!" he said. "Now I know what real loss is; and I deserve it."

How they missed the careful, pathetic little face! How often they became suddenly speechless when, in laying their plans--they found that they had unconsciously included Josie! But they worked on bravely in spite of pain--worked the better for it, indeed. And when in after-years, all happy and prosperous and with homes of their own, they talked over the past, and Mr. Willian told of the wonderful time when his daughters had made caryatides of themselves to support the edifice of his fallen fortunes, Josie was gratefully mentioned as the noblest helper there. "For it was by her means that the cornerstone of our new home was laid in heaven," he said.

RELIGION IN EDUCATION.

In every century there has arisen some question which, by reason of its intrinsic importance, or immediate influence on society, may be called the problem of the age. Our century, though differing in so many respects from all the others, is not, however, an exception to this seeming law of history. Not a few long-standing grievances have been righted, knotty political intricacies severed, and brilliant scientific triumphs achieved; yet important as was the emancipation of 1829 or the disestablishment of 1869, the laying of the transmarine cable, or the cutting of Suez, we believe with the _Dublin Review_ that the great problem of our age is the adjustment of the oft-debated educational question. Much has been said, many editorials have been written, and pamphlets published on this subject. It has afforded a noble theme for such orators as Lacordaire, Montalembert, and Archbishop Hughes; and a trying task for the skill and practical wisdom of such eminent statesmen as Thiers, Lord Derby, and Gladstone. We know no better proof of the vital importance of education, than the active part thus taken in its discussion by men of every religious persuasion and political shade. In fact, few questions affect so directly the welfare and interests of the people; and assuredly in this country there is none of more moment as regards the well-being and permanence of our national institutions.

Two centuries ago, Leibnitz declared the proper training of youth to be "the foundation of human happiness;" in the last century, Washington called it the "pillar" of society; and in our own, Bishop Dupanloup assures us that it and it alone "forms the greatness of a nation, maintains its splendor, and prevents decay." But it may be argued that intellectual discipline without the coöperation of any religious element will produce these great and inestimable results. This we deny. Did polite literature, for instance, save the most refined nation of antiquity? Listen to the masters of the lyre bewailing the degradation of their countrymen, and sighing for a purer and loftier virtue than any their religion could inspire. Did the plastic arts? Phidias and Apelles will return the melancholy answer. The eloquence of the orator? The noblest appeals of duty, the most patriotic harangue or spirit-stirring philippic palled alike upon a degenerate race. The wisdom of the legislator? All the sagacity of Solon and Lycurgus could but retard the downfall of the country. In fine, did philosophy? Its schools were often sinks of immorality, and vice. A few great minds, indeed, rose above the absurd creations of mythology, and taught the precepts of natural morality; but, like the dragon-fly of the tropics, they flitted across the night of paganism, lights to themselves and mere ornaments of the surrounding darkness. No wonder that the Grecian states declined, that their last day soon "quivered on the dial of their doom," and that they went down into a night which never knew a morrow. The Romans once added to the speculative wisdom of the Greeks an almost heroic practice of all the natural virtues. Yet they, too, were swept by a torrent of vice into the common tomb of nations; and only a few broken columns remain to-day to tell the traveller what was once the seat of a world-wide empire.

Separate religion, then, from education, as Mr. John Stuart Mill would fain do; banish it entirely from the class-room, and you will have taken the most effective means of insuring proximate dissoluteness and ultimate ruin. Even the author of _Lothair_ recognizes that "without religion the world must soon become a scene of universal desolation." If, when children are asked how they are occupied in school, they cannot say with the Joas of Racine,

"J'adore le Seigneur, on m'explique sa loi,"

sooner or later, we may have to say with Abner,

"Juda est sans force, Benjamin sans vertu."

Intellectual culture, therefore, even in its highest perfection, can gain at best but an ephemeral triumph. It cannot perpetuate the civilization to which a people in the meridian of their greatness may attain; and it certainly has never raised a fallen empire, nor poured a quickening stream through the veins of a superannuated nation. This inefficiency can be accounted for only by the absence of that pure and sublime faith which commanded the respect of the hordes that poured from the north, to batter down the last remains of a gigantic fabric, as well as of that sublime moral code which tamed these rude nomads and raised them from a savage state to the loftiest heights of Christian civilization.

The term education is from the Latin _e_ and _duco_, meaning literally to lead or draw out. Some writers have attempted to define it "the drawing out or development of the mental faculties." This may be a "scientific" view of head-culture; but as a definition of education, it is defective and very unphilosophical. Defective, because it embraces only a part; unphilosophical, because it substitutes the secondary for the essential. We maintain that instruction is but a branch of education, to which religion is as the parent stem. If we consult the masters of thought, and those who shape the destinies of nations, we shall be surprised to find how unanimously they hold moral training paramount to intellectual culture, and how strongly they insist on making the latter always subservient to the former. The better to substantiate our assertion against the cavillings of sceptics, we will give a few quotations, selecting only from Protestant authors. The end of education, according to Milton, "is to fit man to perform justly, skilfully, and magnanimously all the offices both public and private of peace and war." "The hard and valuable part of education," says Locke, "is virtue; this is the solid and substantial good which the teacher should never cease to inculcate till the young man places his strength, his glory, and his pleasure in it." "The educating of a young man," writes Lord Kames, "to behave well in society is of still greater importance than making him a Solomon in knowledge;" and "We shall never know," says Sir Walter Scott, "our real calling or destiny, unless we have taught ourselves to consider every thing else as moon-shine compared with the education of the heart." And Lord Derby: "Religion is not a thing apart from education, but is interwoven with its whole system; it is a principle which controls and regulates the whole mind and happiness of the people." And Guizot: "Popular education, to be truly good and socially useful, must be fundamentally religious."

Thus, then, the essential element of education--its pith and marrow, so to speak--is the religious element. To exclude it from the school-room is, therefore, a crying injustice to the rising generation and a crime against society.

It is not one portion of the "triple man," but the whole--the physical, intellectual, and moral being--the body, the mind, the head--that must be cultivated and "brought up." Neglect any one part of man's nature, and you at once disturb the equilibrium of the whole, and produce disorder; educate the body at the expense of the mind and soul, and you will have only animated clay; educate the intelligence at the expense of the moral and religious feelings, and you but fearfully increase a man's power to effect evil. You store the arsenal of his mind with weapons to sap alike the altar and the throne, to carry on a war of extermination against every holy principle, against the welfare and the very existence of society.

Catiline, the polished patrician, was more dreaded by the Roman senate than the steel of his hired assassins. The French revolution, the most violent outbreak that ever convulsed society, was ushered in by a blaze of genius; but, like the high intelligence of the "archangel ruined," it brought desolation and death in its fiery track. Science without religion is more destructive than the sword in the hands of unprincipled men. "Talent if divorced from rectitude," says Channing, "will prove more of a demon than a god." It is these enlightened infidels that arrest the progress of true civilization and prepare those terrible catastrophes which deluge a country with blood. Who were the leaders in the work of destruction and wholesale butchery in the Reign of Terror? The nurslings of lyceums in which the chaotic principles of the "philosophers" were proclaimed as oracles of truth. Who are those turbulent revolutionists who now long to erect the guillotine by the Tuileries? And who are those secret conspirators and their myrmidon partisans who have sworn to unify Italy or lay it in ruins? Men who were taught to scout the idea of a God and rail at religion; to consider Christianity as a thing of the past and a legion of "isms" as the regenerators of the future; men who revel in wild chimeras by night, and seek to realize their mad dreams by day.

The frightful excesses to which irreligion directly leads so struck one of the most frantic revolutionists of 1793 that, yet dripping with blood, he mounted to the pediment of a temple and with a pencil wrote this memorable inscription, "The French nation recognizes the existence of a Supreme Being;" and a few hours before ascending the scaffold to suffer the just penalty of his enormities, he cried out to his countrymen, "The republic can only be established on the eternal bases of morality." Terrible confession wrung from a regicide in the most impious moment of history!

Robespierre proclaimed the truth. The only safety for a commonwealth, the only source of greatness and prosperity for a nation, as well as of tranquillity and happiness for the individual, is religion. When men reject its heavenly guidance, duty becomes as void of meaning to them as "honor" was to a well-known Shakespearean character, the most sacred obligations dwindle down into mere optional practices, and the moral code itself soon becomes little more than the bugbear of the weak-minded. "The safeguard of morality," says De Tocqueville, "is religion;" and he concludes a chapter of his _American Republic_ with the following pertinent remark: "Religion is the companion of liberty in all its battles and triumphs; the cradle of its infancy, and the divine source of its claims; it is the safeguard of morality, and morality is the best security of law as well as the surest pledge of freedom."

The philosophers of the eighteenth century, by their monstrous errors and shameless depravity, have shown but too clearly that science without religion

"Leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind."

These vaunted _esprits forts_ had entered the realms of learning and returned as conquerors laden with treasures; but instead of consecrating the spoil to the service of the true, the good, and the beautiful, they paid it as a votive tribute to the evil genius of license and disorder. The world then saw these very men to whom princes had offered the incense of adulation enthrone an impure goddess on the altar of the Most High, and fall prostrate before a public harlot.

If further proof were needed of the immoral tendency of science separated from religion, we could silently point to the nameless abominations of the Communists, Fourierists, and other such vile and degraded fraternities; we could dwell on the cold-blooded murders and frightful suicides that fill so many domestic hearths with grief and shame; the scarcely concealed corruption of public and professional men; the adroit peculation and wilful embezzlement of the public money; those monopolizing speculations and voluntary insolvencies so ruinous to the community at large; and, above all, those shocking atrocities so common in unbelieving countries--the legal dissolution of the matrimonial tie and the wanton tampering with life in its very bud. These humiliating facts are sufficient to convince any impartial mind that there can be no social virtue, no morality, no true and lasting greatness without religion.

Here we meet the question, When should these salutary doctrines be inculcated? As well might it be asked when the builder should lay the foundation of his edifice, or the farmer sow his field. If religious principles be not laid broad and deep in childhood, there is great danger that the superstructure will topple and fall. Youth has been called the seed-time of life; and experience as well as reason proves the same law to hold good in mental as in material husbandry; "What you sow that you shall reap." Men do not seek grapes from thorns, nor figs from thistles. Yet, by a strange inconsistency, some would expect virtuous youths from godless schools. But the order of nature cannot be reversed. Like generates like.

In childhood the mind is simple and docile; the soul, pure and candid; and the heart may easily be cast into any mould. It is of the highest importance for parents and educators to bear in mind that the first impressions are the last forgotten. The pious child may in after-life, in an evil hour, be led astray by the force of passion or bad example, but at least, when the fires of youth have cooled with advancing age, there is great probability that he will return again to virtue and piety. With great truth the poet has said,

"Take care in youth to form the heart and mind,
For as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined."

One of the greatest thinkers of our age, thoroughly convinced of the paramount importance of early moral training, would have the air of the school-room, as it were, impregnated with religion. "It is necessary," says Guizot, "that natural education should be given and received in the midst of a religious atmosphere, and that religious impressions and religious observances should penetrate all its parts." It would, indeed, be well if those who advocate the exclusion of religion from our schools would read and maturely weigh these words of the illustrious Protestant statesman and historian. A little further on occurs the following remarkable passage: "Religion is not a study or an exercise, to be restricted to a certain place and a certain hour; it is a faith and a law which ought to be felt everywhere, and which in this manner alone can exercise all its beneficent influence upon our minds and lives." In the same spirit Disraeli says, "Religion should be the rule of life, not a casual incidence." It is then absurd to devote six days of the week to the teaching of human learning, and trust to a hurried hour in the Sunday-school for the imparting of religious knowledge. By such a system, we may make expert shop-boys, first-rate accountants, shrewd and thriving "earth-worms," as Bishop Berkeley says; but it would be presumption to think of thus making good citizens, still less virtuous Christians.

To-day more than ever we need a thorough religious education. The enemies of Christianity are now making war upon its dogmas more generally and craftily than at any former period. Their attacks, for being wily and concealed, are all the more pernicious. The impious rage of a Voltaire, or the "solemn sneer" of a Gibbon, would be less dangerous than this insidious warfare. They disguise their designs under the appearance of devotion to progressive ideas, hatred of superstition and intolerance, all the better to instil the slow but deadly poison. By honeyed words, a studied candor, a dazzle of erudition, they have spread their "gossamer nets of seduction" over the world. The press teems with books and journals in which doctrines subversive of religion and morality are so elegantly set forth that the unguarded reader, like Roger in Ariosto, is very apt to be deceived by the fascination of false charms, and to mistake a most hideous and dangerous object for the very type of beauty. The serpent stealthily glides under the silken verdure of a polished style. Nothing is omitted. The passions are fed and the morbid sensibilities pandered to; firmness in the cause of truth or virtue is called obstinacy; and strength of soul, a refractory blindness. The bases of morality are sapped in the name of liberty; the discipline of the church, when not branded as sheer "mummery," is held up as hostile to personal freedom; and her dogmas with one or two exceptions are treated as opinions which may be received or rejected with like indifference.

Nor is this irreligious tendency confined to literary publications; it finds numerous and powerful advocates in men of scientific pursuits, who, like Belial in Milton, "strive to make the worse appear the better cause." The chemist has never found in his crucible that intangible something which men call spirit; so, in the name of science, he pronounces it a myth. The anatomist has dissected the human frame; but failing to meet the immaterial substance--the soul, he denies its existence. The physicist has weighed the conflicting theories of his predecessors in the scales of criticism; and finally decides that bodies are nothing more than the accidental assemblage of atoms, and rejects the very idea of a Creator. The geologist, after investigating the secrets of the earth, triumphantly tells us that he has accumulated an overwhelming mass of facts to refute the biblical cosmogony and thus subvert the authority of the inspired record. The astronomer flatters himself that he has discovered natural and necessary laws which do away with the necessity of admitting that a divine hand once launched the heavenly bodies into space and still guides them in their courses; the ethnographer has studied the peculiarities of the races, he has met with widely-different conformations, and believes himself sufficiently authorized to deny the unity of the human family; in a word, they conclude that nothing exists but matter, that God is a myth, and the soul "the dream of a dream."

Thus do men attack these sacred truths which, in the words of Balmes, "cannot be shaken without greatly injuring and finally destroying the social edifice." What, then, must be done to save society from the perils that menace it--to stem the tide that bids fair to sweep away eventually even civilization itself? What is the remedy for the profligacy that disgraces some of our crowded centres, and the demoralization that is fast gangrening our rural districts? There is _one_, and we believe there is _but_ one. Let the rising generation be "brought up" in a "religious atmosphere." If we Christianize our youth, we may be sure of having a virtuous and a virile people; for it is an ethical truth, that "the morals are but the outward forms of the inner life."

The Father of our country, then, was right, when he said, in his farewell address to the American nation, that religion and morality are the "props" of society and the "pillars" of the state. History tells in its every page that the decline and downfall of nations have ever been caused by immorality and irreligion.

Our national institutions, our prosperity and civilization depend for their permanence and perpetuity not so much on the culture of the arts, sciences, literature, or philosophy, as on the general diffusion of the salutary and vivifying principles of religion.

Let us then infuse good morals by the most powerful of all means, Christian education; let doctrine be taught simultaneously with science; let the class-room be impregnated with the sweet and life-giving aroma of Christianity, and we shall soon check the torrent of infidelity, avert impending evils, and prepare the golden age of our republic.

TRANSLATED FROM THE REVUE MILITAIRE FRANCAISE.

THE JOURNAL OF THE CAMPAIGN OF CLAUDE BLANCHARD,

COMMISSARY-GENERAL TO THE AUXILIARY TROOPS SENT TO AMERICA UNDER THE COMMAND OF LIEUTENANT-GENERAL THE COUNT DE ROCHAMBEAU. 1780-1783.

"I spent three years, in the capacity of commissary-general, with the body of troops which General Rochambeau brought to the assistance of the Americans. During the entire war, I wrote down every day, dating from our departure from Brest, both the events I witnessed, and those that were personal. This journal is not in very good order, and now that I have leisure, (Messidor, second year of the Republic,) I intend to copy it out clearly, without making any important change in either the style or the matter. I wrote, however, merely for my own amusement, and for an occupation in idle moments."

Thus begins a manuscript, hitherto unpublished and entirely unknown, which appears worthy of being noticed and rescued from oblivion. The author of this journal, Commissary Blanchard, became later commissary-general, but was deprived of this position by the government of the Reign of Terror, whose persecutions at the time--the eve of the fall of Robespierre--ending generally in a sentence of death, he hid himself in Paris. Such is the leisure he speaks of in the passage cited above; leisure very short, however, and which he occupied in the manner indicated, by reviewing his notes of past times and collecting his personal reminiscences of the American expedition so dear to all who had taken part in it. Soon afterward he was restored to active service, and thought no more, in a career occupied with the wars of the period, of the manuscript which he had not intended for publicity, and which, after his death in 1803, remained forgotten among family papers, as so many other documents have which are still unknown. Compared with the works published on the same events which he writes of, this journal, now ninety years old, certainly has its own value and special interest. It is apparent from the first lines of the manuscript, quoted at the beginning of this article, that M. Blanchard wrote without special thought--merely for his own satisfaction, and prompted by the natural desire to note down whatever he saw, without any intention of composing a history or a book of memoirs. This is an excellent disposition for sincerity, and our epoch loves and prefers to all others these unstudied writings, when they refer, as they do in this case, to interesting periods of the past.

The author of this journal was forty years of age at the time of the American war. Though now completely forgotten, he attracted considerable attention in his day, and he figures in the "Biographies Universelles" of the beginning of the century. Born at Angers, on the 16th of May, 1742, and sprung from a distinguished family of that city, he appears, for the first time in 1762 in the war bureau, under the orders of one of his relations, M. Dubois, "Chief of the War Bureau and General Secretary of the Swiss and Grisons."[290] He was appointed commissary in 1768, and served in this capacity throughout the Corsican campaign, remaining on the island ten years. As commissary-general, in 1780 he accompanied General Rochambeau to America. In 1788, he was commissary at Arras, where the following year he was put in command of the national guard of the city; and soon afterward became, with Carnot, then unknown, its representative in the legislative assembly. Here M. Blanchard played a modest but active and useful part, and he, with Lacuée and Matthieu Dumas, formed the standing committee on military questions. Removed by the Committee of Public Safety, he afterward held the position of commissary-general successively to the army of Sambre-et-Meuse, to that of the interior, to the army of Holland, and finally to the Hotel des Invalides, where he died, leaving the reputation of an officer "remarkable for his talents and virtues."[291]

The First Consul, on hearing of his death, expressed deep regret, according to the testimony of General Lacuée. Blanchard, although at the time but sixty years of age, was the oldest among the commissaries of the army.[292]

The journal of M. Blanchard will give a more correct idea of the character of the man, of his upright and honest nature, and of his strong and good sense. A few words are necessary, however, on the events of which we have to speak, and of the writers who have related them at first hand.

The violent struggle of the English colonies against the mother country began in 1775; Declaration of the Independence of the United States--the hundredth anniversary of which is near at hand--was made on the 4th of July, 1776. Soon afterward, when the Americans were hard pressed, France came to their aid, and the war with England opened with the fight at Ouessant on the 17th of June, 1778. It was at first a naval war which spread over the whole ocean. Subsequently, when the American cause was in a most critical condition, France, at the request of Congress, sent pecuniary assistance, and also a body of troops, who were placed under the chief command of General Washington.

This war, in which we acquired glory at sea, and which raised up our navy--this reappearance of the white flag in the new world, from which the seven years' war had excluded it[293]--the part taken by France in establishing the independence of the United States, and in founding a nation destined for so grand a future--are events of far more than ordinary importance, and which possess the same interest to-day as when they transpired. Nevertheless their details are, as a general thing, but imperfectly known; and particularly the campaign of the corps sent to America, which brought into close contact the soldiers of old France and the militia of the young republic, is in the larger histories usually summed up in a few lines.[294] This doubtless arises from the fact that no work of importance has treated this subject in a special manner. It is true that the little army commanded by General Rochambeau had few opportunities of distinguishing itself. But, although its active services were confined to a few important marches, and to the taking of York town, which was forced to surrender, together with a division of the English army, it gave the Americans no inconsiderable moral support, as well as effective assistance which was most opportune. The revolution which followed soon after, and the twenty-five years of war rendered glorious by so many famous campaigns, effaced the remembrance of the naval combat of Chesapeake Bay and the taking of Yorktown, and turned attention from military operations which are insignificant, if we consider the number of troops engaged, but important, if we look to the result. In fact, these battles between a few thousand men, decided the fate of one of the most powerful of modern nations as well as the future balance of the world.

It is not, however, because documents on the American campaign are wanting; on the contrary, they are numerous and interesting; our archives should possess intact the official reports; while individual reminiscences contained in a number of books published at different times, are valuable sources of information from which as yet nothing has been drawn. Four distinguished officers engaged in this expedition among the French (not to mention American or English writers) have found pleasure in recalling the memory and narrating the incidents of what they considered the noblest or the dearest portion of their career; the _Mémoires du Maréchal de Rochambeau_, (1809,) the first source of information, give with clearness and precision, but without embellishment, a detailed account of the campaign which above all else has served to render his name illustrious. Next comes the _Correspondance et Manuscrits du Général La Fayette_, (1837,) although La Fayette took part in the war of independence as a volunteer and an American general, independent of the action of the royal forces. The _Souvenirs du Comte de Ségur_, (1835,) and those of _Comte Matthieu Dumas_, (1839,) young and brilliant aides-de-camp to General Rochambeau, also furnish some particulars about this campaign worthy of note. We must not forget the _Mémoires du Duc de Lauzun_, (1822,) colonel of a regiment in the expeditionary corps, and the _Voyages dans l'Amérique Septentrionale de M. le Marquis de Chastellux_, (1786,) major-general; this work, though full of description and of anecdote, is of only moderate ability; but the name of its author, a member of the Academy and a friend of Voltaire, gave it a certain degree of success at the time of its appearance, owing to curiosity and to circumstances.

After these works, which possess each a peculiar interest, and without pretending to the importance which they derive from the names of their distinguished authors, the journal of Commissary Blanchard (who is mentioned in all of them) deserves certainly an honorable place. It is remarkable for great exactness, variety of information, and a genial and pleasant tone. Moreover, as it is devoted solely to the American expedition, it is naturally more diffuse on this special subject than books which treat of an entire life.

We shall now let the journal speak for itself:

"Lieutenant-General the Count de Rochambeau, having been
appointed to the command of the corps which was under orders
to embark, although their destination was not yet positively
known, engaged me to serve with these troops, in my capacity of
commissary.

"I accordingly repaired to Brest on the 20th of March, 1780. M.
de Tarlé, commissary of provisions, who performed the duties
of purveyor to the troops, did not arrive for eight or ten
days after; he brought me a commission as commissary-in-chief.
Finding myself alone at Brest, I assisted both the land and
naval commanders to ship all the supplies and whatever would
be necessary for the troops after they had landed. As the
navy had not been able to furnish a sufficient number of
transports, they were obliged to leave in France the regiments
of Neustrie and Anhalt, which were to have accompanied the
expedition as well as two or three hundred men of the legion of
Lauzun. Those who embarked numbered five thousand, consisting
of the regiments of Bourbonnais, Soissonnais, Saintonge,
Royal-deux-Ponts, about five hundred artillery-men, and six
hundred of the legion of Lauzun, of whom three hundred were
to form a body of cavalry. These troops, their baggage, the
artillery, and other things necessary to an army, were put on
board twenty-five to thirty transports or store-ships; they
were accompanied by seven vessels of war and seven frigates.
La Fantasque, an old vessel, was armed as a store-ship and
intended for a hospital; they put on board of her the money,
the heavy artillery, and a considerable number of passengers.

"All the general officers slept on board the 14th of April; I
was there also, and embarked on the Conquérant, commanded by La
Grandière.

"The following are the names of the principal persons who
composed our army:

"Count de Rochambeau, lieutenant-general, commander-in-chief.

"The Baron de Vioménil, the Count de Vioménil, the Chevalier de
Chastellux, field-marshals, (the last mentioned performs the
duties of a major-general.)

"De Béville, brigadier-general and quartermaster, (de Choisy,
brigadier, did not arrive till the 30th of September.)

"De Tarlé, general commissary, acting as purveyor.

"Blanchard, commissary-general.

"De Corny, de Villemanzy, chief of ordnance.

"Gau, commissary of artillery.

"D'Aboville, commander-in-chief of artillery.

"Désandrouins, commander of the engineers.

"Daure, purveyor of provisions.

"Demars, purveyor of the hospitals.

"There were yet many other purveyors, for forage, meat, etc.;
in general there were too many employed, particularly as
purveyors-in-chief; all this was according to the taste of M.
de Veymérangers, in whose hands had been left the organization
of the commissary department of our army; a man skilful in
business matters, but given to expense and extravagance, and
who needed looking after.

"M. de Ménonville and the Chevalier de Tarlé, brother of the
commissary, were general staff officers; M. de Béville junior,
and M. Collot, were assistant quartermasters.

"M. de Rochambeau had for his aides-de-camp M. de Fersey, de
Damas, Charles Lameth, Closen, Matthieu Dumas, Lamberdiére, de
Vauban, and Cromot-Dubourg.

"M. de Vioménil had also several, among whom were MM. de
Chabannes, de Pange, d'Olonne, etc.

"Those of M. de Chastellux were MM. Montesquieu, grandson of
the president, and Lynch, an Irishman.

"The colonels were:

"Of the regiment of Bourbonnais, the Marquis de Leval and the
Count de Rochambeau, (as second in command,) son of the general
in chief.

"Of the Royal-Deux-Ponts, MM. de Deux-Ponts, brothers.

"Of the Saintonge, MM. de Custine and the Viscount de Charlus,
son of M. de Castries.

"Of the Soissonnais; MM. de Sainte-Mesme and the Viscount de
Noailles.

"Of the legion of Lauzun, the Duke de Lauzun and M. de
Dillon."[295]

I have copied this page because it shows to some extent the formation of the staff of an army corps of the last century, and also on account of the names which it gives. They are those of the very highest nobility of France, who threw themselves with enthusiasm into this expedition, which they called the "crusade of the eighteenth century."

Among the companions in arms of M. Blanchard, whose names often recur in his journal, many who were then young afterward became celebrated. Not to speak of two generals already distinguished, Rochambeau and La Fayette, and the Chevalier, later the Marquis, de Chastellux, known by his connection with the encyclopedists, and who died in 1788, the following are worthy of mention: Biron (the Duke de Lauzun) and Custine, two generals of the republic, who shared the same tragic fate; the Prince de Broglie, field-marshal in the army of the Rhine, indicted before the revolutionary tribunal, and executed in 1794; the Count de Dillon, general in 1792, falsely accused of treason, put to death by his troops, and to whom the Convention, in gratitude for his devotion, decreed the honors of the Pantheon; Pichegru, at that time only an artillery-man; the Viscount de Noailles, who, on the famous night of the fourth of August, was the first to propose the abolition of the feudal laws; (his military future promised to be brilliant when he died in consequence of a wound received in the expedition to San Domingo.) By the side of these men, whose careers were cut short by death, we find others whose lives were long and illustrious. Berthier, then an under-officer, destined to become marshal of France and minister of war, Prince of Wagram and Neufchâtel, etc. The Count de Ségur, general, diplomatist, historian, whose son, equally distinguished and still alive, is the author of the _Campaign of_ 1812, that touching recital of an eye-witness. Matthieu Dumas, a general, an able commissary and esteemed military writer, a peer of France in 1830; Aubert-Dubayet, an inferior officer in the expeditionary corps, minister of war under the republic.[296] The Duke de Damas, the faithful companion of the Bourbons during their exile; Charles de Lameth, equally brilliant in speech and in action, a member of the assembly, lieutenant-general in 1814, deputy, and peer of France. The Count de Vauban, aide-de-camp to the Count d'Artois, who fought in the army of Condé and of Quiberon; the Duke de Castries, who died in 1842, a peer of France, etc.

On the 9th of July 1780, after a voyage of sixty-nine days, America was signalled by the French squadron. Nevertheless, the disembarkment did not take place at Newport, Rhode Island, for some days after.

"On the 12th, the troops had not yet landed; there had even
been an express prohibition against their going ashore; and
I had not permission to do so until four o'clock in the
afternoon. I then landed at Newport. This town is small and
pretty; the streets are straight, and the houses, though for
the most part built of wood, make a good appearance. There was
an illumination in the evening. A citizen invited me to his
house and treated me well. I there took tea, which was served
by the daughter of my host."

The daily business and special occupations of a commissary as well as the incidents of a campaign life, date from this day for M. Blanchard. In an army in active service, the position of a commissary affords him an opportunity, if he is so inclined, to carefully observe, if not military operations, at least the strange country to which the war has brought him. After his immediate duties, he should acquaint himself with its resources, and have relations with the population, be they friendly or otherwise, of every kind. Hence arises a great variety of impressions and remarks which we accordingly find in this journal.

A short time after landing, M. Blanchard was sent to the assembly in Boston, to ask the immediate assistance of the provincial troops in case of an attack upon Rhode Island by the English, which they anticipated. A German dragoon in the American service, with whom he was obliged to converse in Latin, acted as his guide. Boston, with its Presbyterian population descended from some of Cromwell's followers who had emigrated to America, was still the active head of the revolution. M. Blanchard met there some of the remarkable men connected with it: Dr. Cooper, John Adams, and Hancock. He describes the general appearance of the city which reminded him of Angers. He met among the inhabitants of Boston two who bore the same name as himself; they were the descendants of refugees driven from this country by the revocation of the edict of Nantes, and who in less than a century had become completely American.

The expedition to America lasted from July, 1780, to December, 1782, a period of two years and a half, and during that interval it seems to us that comparatively little was done. Certainly in those days they did not move so fast as now, and no one appeared to be in a hurry; it was reserved for our revolution to give a quickening impulse to the world.

The corps of five thousand men under General Rochambeau had, when they landed in America, no less than eight hundred on the sick-list; a frightful number, being nearly one fifth of the effective force. The length of the voyage, and the bad quality of the food on shipboard, were the causes of this. We learn, however, from another statement of a similar kind made by M. Blanchard, that such a proportion on the sick-list after a sea voyage was by no means unusual. The first thing to be done was to restore the health of the army, and for that purpose it remained a whole year inactive at Rhode Island, if we except the sailing of an expedition with a party on board intended for land-service, which was the occasion of a naval engagement in Chesapeake Bay. Finally the army moved from its quarters to effect a junction with Washington and La Fayette, and, supported by the flotilla of M. de Grasse, commander of the squadron, who landed an additional body of three thousand men, they proceeded in concert to invest Yorktown, where Cornwallis, the English commander, was besieged, and not long after was forced to capitulate.[297] The small French army passed its second winter in America, in the State of Virginia, in the vicinity of Yorktown. In 1782, it returned northward, threatened New York, the last place of which the English held possession, and reëmbarked at the close of 1782.

Such is the framework to the descriptive reminiscences of M. Blanchard. Those two long marches from north to south, and again from south to north, gave him particular facilities for observing the country. Sometimes with the army, oftener alone, and going in advance to make preparations for the sick and the commissariat of the army--a double duty with which he was charged--he visited the chief cities of the United States, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Hartford, Fredericksburg, Williamsburg, Wilmington, Alexandria, Providence, etc. Philadelphia, then the seat of Congress, counted at that time thirty-five thousand inhabitants; it has now seven hundred thousand. Every village, every station passed through, is recorded and described by M. Blanchard; frequently they are but the small beginnings of what are now great and flourishing cities. These pictures of other times extracted from the note-book of a French officer, the rude attempts at agriculture, improvements then in their infancy, the plantations, as they then existed, and roads and public works just laid out but incomplete, present the contrast of what existed then with what is to be seen to-day, and give us an idea of the immense progress that has been made in the interval. There is also for the American reader a particular interest attached to the names given of several families with whom he merely lodged, or whose hospitality was pressed upon him, and whose great-grandchildren perhaps still reside in the same places.[298] When our troops marched on Yorktown, they traversed that portion of Virginia so often the scene of conflict in the late civil war; and in this recital, which seems to treat of times and events long since gone by, we meet with many names of localities common to both wars. There were, even at this time, indications of different tendencies on the part of the populations of the North and South, and the following extract from the journal makes allusion to this in very striking terms:

"The inhabitants of these southern provinces are very different
from those of the North, who, as I have already said, cultivate
their own lands. In the South, they have negro slaves whom
they compel to work, while they themselves lead an idle life,
chiefly occupied with the pleasures of the table. In general,
neither as to morality nor honesty can they compare with the
Americans of the North, and in some sort the North and South
represent two different races."

Expeditions sent out for provisions, wood, and forage; transports for the troops; difficulties arising from want of roads and bridges, and the depreciation of American paper money; remarks on the food, the furniture, the price of articles, the fuel, (they had great wood fires,) the quality of the soil and state of cultivation; frequent accidental meetings with refugees from the edict of Nantes, (not far from New York there was a village built entirely by refugees from Rochelle, called New Rochelle, which a number of our officers went to see;) such are the usual matters treated of in his journal, on which in a few words he frequently throws much light, and makes his journal interesting to those who take pleasure in such details. Agriculture and the aspects of nature are among the subjects that most occupied the attention of M. Blanchard: he does not omit to name the plants and shrubs, both such as reminded him of France, and such as were till then unknown to him. This life of movement and activity seemed to be his delight. On one occasion, he explored a large portion of the forest to find the most suitable place for cutting down winter fuel for the army, and superintended the work himself. "I love the woods," says he, "I was there in some sort alone, far from the world. I rode on horseback, and led the life of a man who dwelt upon his own estate." That expression of feeling recurs more than once in his journal, and mingles with some natural observations, like the following:

"To-day, after dinner, while walking as usual alone in the
woods, (not far from Baltimore,) I saw a humming-bird. I knew
such birds were to be found in North America, and some had
already seen them; but this was the first I met with. I easily
recognized it from the description given of it. Its small size,
its swiftness on the wing, its beak, and the brilliancy of its
colors are remarkable. It makes a humming noise with its wings
while flying. At first one might imagine that he had met the
insect called the _demoiselle_ in some provinces of France. It
is no larger; it has also a peculiarity of stopping suddenly
without beating its wings. I saw it rest upon a shrub very
close to me; after that, I had the pleasure of observing it for
a long time."

All the documents in reference to the war in America agree in stating that the relations of our troops with the army and population of the United States were excellent, and that the discipline of the auxiliary corps was admirable; every one in fact seems to have carried away the most favorable impressions of the expedition. The universal enthusiasm which gave rise in France to this expedition still lasted; the Americans were everywhere popular, and the new ideas which prepared the way for our revolution led our countrymen to look with interest and partiality on institutions, manners, and characteristics so different from ours. We find this bias, so general at the time, in the journal of M. Blanchard, but still without leading him into exaggeration, and with some of those slight criticisms that a regard to truth made necessary.

At that period, the American character, if well examined, foreshadowed all that it has become since; but the manners were still very different, and contrast singularly with those of Americans of to-day. M. Blanchard, brought into daily intercourse with their ancestors, says of them that they are "slow, distrustful, and wanting in decision of character." In another place he speaks of them as spending a great portion of the day at table, even in the cities of the North.

"As they have little occupation, and seldom go out during
winter, but pass their days by the fireside, and by the side of
their wives, without reading or any employment, it is a great
distraction, a remedy against _ennui_, to eat so frequently."

"Oh! we have changed all that," will be the answer of the Americans of 1869.

Their morals were singularly pure, and it is on that basis that liberty grew to its present greatness. The journal speaks of but one woman in an important city, who was talked of for her levity of conduct, and she was a European. Here and there throughout the journal we find allusion to young American girls, already possessed of that liberty and that queenly dignity, founded on universal respect, which have continued there to be the privilege of their sex. Here are two charming illustrations of the manners of that period:

"During my stay at Boston, I dined with a young American
lady in whose house M. de Capellis lodged. We had made the
acquaintance of her sister and brother-in-law at Newport. It
was a singular contrast to our customs to see a young girl
who, at most, could not have been more than twenty years of
age, lodge and entertain a young man. I shall surely find an
opportunity of explaining the causes of this singularity."

On another occasion, it is the daughter of the host who comes to keep company with M. Blanchard in the room assigned to him.

"She remained there a long time; sometimes we conversed. At
other times she would leave me to attend to my business,
and this without constraint and with a natural and innocent
familiarity."

It was the period when our eighteenth century, disgusted with the corruption of the court of Louis XV. and the upper classes, indulged in dreams of a golden age, and a morality pure and unaffected. The Americans seemed to offer the realization of this day-dream; hence the success of their cause, and the universal enthusiasm in their favor throughout France.

The general morality of a people who boldly founded a republic in the face of the old monarchies of Europe, was naturally to Frenchmen of the old _régime_ the most interesting spectacle in the new world. The journal abounds in this respect with facts and significant remarks written incidentally in the course of the narrative. I shall limit myself to a few quotations:

"The inhabitants of these provinces (those of the North) are in
general more affable and more sprightly than those of Virginia.
When our soldiers come into camp, they are met by crowds of
women anxious to hear the music, and even to dance when they
find an opportunity, which sometimes happens. Afterward they
return home to attend to household duties, milk the cows, and
prepare the meal for the family. During this time the men are
at work cultivating the fields without any distinction or
inequality, all well housed and well clad. They choose from
among themselves those whom they wish, by reason of their
merit or consideration, to be captains of the militia or
deputies to Congress. At East Hartford, I was lodged in a very
excellent house furnished with order and good taste. I had a
bed as elegant in appearance as any to be found in our best
country houses in France. The house belonged to the widow of a
merchant who had two very handsome and very modest girls; one
of these was affianced to a shoemaker, the owner also of a very
beautiful house. I have often made this remark, but I cannot
help repeating it; the greatest equality prevails in these
Northern States. All the husbandmen have farms of their own;
there is no one who does not know how to read and write, and
there are no poor to be met with. This is as it should be in
all the states."

"NOTE.--It was in 1782 I made those reflections. I did not
think that ten years after I should see the same equality
established in France."[299]

M. Blanchard remarks everywhere this equality in education, and a high standard of manners accompanied by dignity and elegant refinement. One day, having negotiated for the transport of some wood with a rich proprietor, a man of position in society, and brother of the celebrated American General Green, he saw him afterward come up driving his own wagons. He mentions the fact on his journal that evening, adding this exclamation, "Such are the customs of America!"

In general, the towns, villages, and country houses strike him as

"Possessing a something indescribably becoming that pleases
one. Instead of tapestry, the walls are papered; and the
effect is pleasing to the eye. The houses are, almost without
exception, well-built, and kept remarkably clean, whether they
chance to belong to a farmer or an artisan, a merchant or a
general. Their education is pretty nearly the same, so that
a mechanic is often sent as a deputy to the assembly where
no distinction is made; there are no separate orders. I have
already said that all the inhabitants of the country cultivated
their own fields; they work themselves on their farms, and
drive their cattle. This kind of life, this pleasing equality,
possesses a charm for every thinking being."

Here we recognize the language of the reign of Louis XVI., an echo of Jean-Jacques and Bernardin de Saint-Pierre.

We have theorized on equality, and often lulled ourselves with chimerical dreams regarding it; but we find that a hundred years ago the Americans had practically realized it by adopting as a basis the participation of all citizens in the benefits of instruction and education, and the respect paid to all honorable labor.

So much for equality. We pass on to some facts of practical liberty.

While the French corps was passing through the little town of Crampond, an American asked a very high indemnity for some depredations committed by the troops on his property. This claim was taken into consideration; but without waiting for a decision, the American carried his complaint before the judge of his district, who, according to law, could not refuse to send an officer to arrest the commander of the French troops. This officer, in accordance with the legal custom, put his hand, with many apologies, however, on the shoulder of General de Rochambeau, in the presence of the troops. All the officers present were indignant, and wished to interfere; but General de Rochambeau said he would submit to the laws of the country; and he was dismissed on giving bail. This anecdote, related by Rochambeau himself, and by La Fayette, in their memoirs, is also mentioned by M. Blanchard, with the additional circumstance that he (M. Blanchard) found himself, a few days after, quartered on the same officer of the law to whom the mission of arresting the French commander-in-chief had been intrusted.

A Masonic procession is described as follows:

"It was St. John's day, a great day with the Free-Masons, and
they held a meeting at Providence. It was announced in the
public papers; for these kinds of societies are authorized
here. I met these Free-Masons in the streets, formed in ranks
and marching two by two, holding each other by the hand, all
wearing their aprons, and preceded by men carrying long rods.
The one who closed the procession, and who appeared to be the
chief, had two brothers by his side, and all three had ribbons
round their necks, as ecclesiastics do when they wear the
_cordon bleu_."

What conclusion must we draw from these facts? That it would seem that republican manners had been anterior in the United States to the constitution itself. The laws of Congress have only ratified, so to speak, that which already existed.