About the time that Colonel Tilghman rode into Philadelphia a large British fleet appeared just outside of Chesapeake Bay, thirty-one ships one day and twenty-five more the next; but they were too late. As a French officer remarked, "The chicken was already eaten," and two days later the last sail had disappeared. The surrender of Cornwallis cost England the war, but nobody could be quite sure of it at that time. Washington hoped the French admiral would still help him by taking American troops south, either to reinforce General Greene near Charleston or for operations against Wilmington, North Carolina. Two days after the fall of Yorktown, when Washington made a visit of thanks to De Grasse upon his flagship, Lafayette accompanied his chief; and after Washington took leave Lafayette stayed for further consultation, it being Washington's plan to give Lafayette command of this expedition against Wilmington in case it should be decided upon. The young general came ashore in high spirits, sure that two thousand American soldiers could sail for North Carolina within the next ten days. Reflection, however, showed the admiral many obstacles, chief of them being that he had positive orders to meet a Spanish admiral in the West Indies on a certain day, now very near. Taking troops to Wilmington might delay him only a few hours, but on the other hand contrary winds might lengthen the time to two weeks, in which case he would have to sail off to the rendezvous, carrying the whole American expedition with him. After thinking it over, he politely but firmly refused. Reinforcements for General Greene were sent by land under command of another officer, the expedition to Wilmington was given up, and Lafayette rode away to Philadelphia to ask leave of Congress to spend the following winter in Paris. This was readily granted in resolutions which cannily combined anticipation of future favors with thanks for the service he had already rendered.

Once more he sailed from Boston on the Alliance. This time the voyage was short and lacked the exciting features of his previous trip on her. Wishing to surprise his wife, he landed at Lorient and posted to Paris with such haste that he arrived quite unexpectedly on the 21st of January, to find an empty house, Adrienne being at the moment at the Hotel de Ville, attending festivities in honor of the unfortunate little Dauphin. When the news of her husband's return finally reached her on the breath of the crowd she was separated from her home by streets in such happy turmoil that she could not hope to reach the Hotel de Noailles for hours. Marie Antoinette hastened this journey's end in a lovers' meeting in right queenly fashion by holding up a royal procession and sending Madame Lafayette home in her own carriage. Accounts written at the time tell how the husband heard his wife's voice and flew to the door, how she fell into his arms half fainting with emotion, and how he carried her inside and the great doors closed while the crowd in the street applauded. What happened after that we do not know, except that he found other members of his family strangely altered. "My daughter and your George have grown so much that I find myself older than I thought," the father wrote Washington.

Paris set about celebrating his return with enthusiasm. A private letter which made much of the queen's graciousness to Madame Lafayette remarked as of lesser moment that a numerous and joyous band of "poissards," which we may translate "the rabble," brought branches of laurel to the HÔtel de Noailles. A prima donna offered him the same tribute at the opera, but in view of later happenings this homage of the common people was quite as significant. In vaudeville they sang topical songs about him; pretty ladies frankly showed him their favor; the ancient order of Masons, of which he was a member, gave him the welcome reserved for heroes; and he was wined and dined to an extent that only a man blessed with his strong digestion could have withstood. One of these dinners was given by the dissolute old MarÉchal de Richelieu, nephew of the famous cardinal, and to this were bidden "all the marÉchals of France," who drank Washington's health with fervor and bade the guest of honor convey to him "their homage."

It had been more than a century since France won a victory over England comparable to this capture of Cornwallis, and national pride and exultation were plainly apparent in the honors bestowed upon the returned soldier. "Your name is held in veneration," Vergennes assured him. "It required a great deal of skill to maintain yourself as you did, for so long a time, in spite of the disparity of your forces, before Lord Cornwallis, whose military talents are well known." And the new Minister of War, M. de SÉgur, father of Lafayette's boyhood friend, informed him that as "a particular and flattering favor" the king had been pleased to make him a marshal of France, his commission dating from the 18th of October. This rank corresponded to that of major-general in the American army, and Lafayette was to assume it at the end of the American war. There were officers in the army who did not approve of this honor. They could not see that Lafayette had done anything to warrant making a French colonel into a major-general overnight and over the heads of officers of higher rank. They were quite sure they would have done as well had the opportunity come their way. Kings do not often reward subjects for services rendered a foreign nation; and the part that strikes us as odd is that Lafayette had been fighting against monarchy, the very form of government his own king represented. But Lafayette's life abounded in such contradictions.

His popularity was no nine days' affair. Franklin found it of very practical use. "He gains daily in public esteem and affection, and promises to be a great man in his own country," the American wrote, after Lafayette had been back for some weeks, adding, "he has been truly useful to me in my efforts to obtain increased assistance." Before the young hero arrived Franklin had found it difficult to arrange a new American loan, but with such enthusiasm sweeping Paris it was almost easy. The town went quite wild. John Ledyard, the American explorer, who was there at the time, wrote: "I took a walk to Paris this morning and saw the Marquis de Lafayette. He is a good man, this same marquis. I esteem him: I even love him, and so do we all, except some who worship." Then he added, "If I find in my travels a mountain as much elevated above other mountains as he is above ordinary men, I will name it Lafayette."

Envoys to discuss peace had already reached Paris, but it was not at all certain that England would give up the contest without one more campaign. To be on the safe side it was planned to send a combined fleet of French and Spanish ships convoying twenty-four thousand soldiers to the West Indies to attack the English island of Jamaica. Ships and men were to be under command of Admiral d'Estaing, who wished Lafayette to go with him as chief-of-staff. After the work was done in the West Indies D'Estaing would sail northward and detach six thousand troops to aid a revolution in Canada, a project Lafayette had never wholly abandoned. The expedition was to sail from Cadiz, and Lafayette was already in Spain with part of the French force when he learned that the preliminary treaty of peace had been signed at Versailles on January 20, 1782. He longed to carry the news to America himself, but was told that he could do much in Spain to secure advantageous trade agreements between that country and the United States. So he contented himself with borrowing a vessel from the fleet that was now without a destination, and sending two letters by it. One, very dignified in tone, was addressed to Congress. The other, to Washington, was joyously personal. "If you were a mere man like CÆsar or the King of Prussia," he wrote, "I would almost regret, on your account, to see the end of the tragedy in which you have played so grand a role. But I rejoice with you, my dear General, in this peace which fulfils all my desires.... What sentiments of pride and joy I feel in thinking of the circumstances which led to my joining the American cause!... I foresee that my grandchildren will be envied when they celebrate and honor your name. To have had one of their ancestors among your soldiers, to know that he had the good fortune to be the friend of your heart, will be the eternal honor that shall glorify them; and I will bequeath to the eldest among them, so long as my posterity shall endure, the favor you have been pleased to bestow upon my son George."

The ship on which these letters were sent was called, appropriately, La Triomphe; and, as he hoped, it did actually carry the news of peace to America, reaching port ahead of all others.

For himself, he remained in Spain, doing what he could for America. The things he witnessed there made him a better republican than ever. He wrote to his aunt that the grandees of the court looked rather small, "especially when I saw them upon their knees." Absolute power, exercised either by monarchs or subjects, was becoming more and more distasteful to him. The injustice of negro slavery, for example, wrung his heart. In the very letter to Washington announcing peace he wrote: "Now that you are to taste a little repose, permit me to propose to you a plan that may become vastly useful to the black portion of the human race. Let us unite in buying a little property where we can try to enfranchise the negroes and employ them merely as farm laborers." He did buy a plantation called Belle Gabrielle in Cayenne, French Guiana, and lavished money and thought upon it. It was an experiment in which his wife heartily joined, sending out teachers for the black tenantry and making their souls and morals her special care. The French Revolution put an end to this, as it did to so many enterprises; and it seems a bitter jest of fortune that when Lafayette's property was seized these poor creatures were sold back again into slavery—in the name of Freedom and Equality.

In March, 1783, Lafayette took his wife to Chavaniac, possibly for the first time. One of the two aunts who made the old manor-house their home had just died, leaving the other desolate. While Adrienne won the affections of the lonely old lady, her husband set about improving the condition of the peasants on the estate. Bad harvests had brought about great scarcity of food. His manager proudly showed his granaries full of wheat, remarking, "Monsieur le Marquis, now is the time to sell." The answer, "No, this is the time to give away," left the worthy steward breathless. Whether Lafayette's philanthropies would win the approval of social workers to-day we do not know. The list of enterprises sounds well. During the next few years he built roads, brought an expert from England to demonstrate new methods in agriculture, imported tools and superior breeds of animals, established a weekly market and an annual fair, started the weaving industry and a school to teach it, and established a resident physician to look after the health of his tenants. He was popular with them. On his arrival he was met in the town of Rion by a procession headed by musicians and the town officials, who ceremoniously presented "the wine of honor" and were followed by local judges in red robes who "made him compliments," while the people cried, "Vive Lafayette!" and danced and embraced, "almost without knowing one another." A few weeks later the tenants from a neighboring manor came bringing him a draught of wine from their town, and expressing the wish that they might come under his rule. This he was able to gratify a few years later, when he bought the estate.

In May, 1783, Lafayette realized the long-cherished dream of having a home of his own. The HÔtel de Noailles was very grand and very beautiful, and while he was away fighting it was by far the best place for Adrienne and the children; but it belonged to her people, not to him. From camps he had written her about this home they were some day to have together; and now that he had returned to France to stay they bought a house in the rue de Bourbon and set up their domestic altar there. They had three children; for a daughter had been born to them in the previous September. Like George, she was as American as her father could make her. "I have taken the liberty of naming her Virginia," he wrote General Washington. Benjamin Franklin, to whom he also announced the new arrival, hoped he would have children enough to name one after each state of the Union.

In May, also, something happened which must have pleased Lafayette deeply. He was given the Cross of Saint-Louis, the military decoration his father had worn; and the man who received him into the order was his father-in-law, the Duc d'Ayen, who had so bitterly opposed his going to America.

With large estates in the country, a new house in town, a list of acquaintances which included everybody worth knowing in Paris and more notables in foreign countries than even he could write to or receive letters from, and a keen interest in the politics, philanthropy, and commerce of two hemispheres, he might have passed for a busy man. Yet he found time for an entirely new enthusiasm. A German doctor named Mesmer had made what he believed to be important discoveries in a new force and a new mode of healing, called animal magnetism. Lafayette enrolled himself as a pupil. "I know as much as ever a sorcerer knew!" he wrote enthusiastically to Washington. On paying his initiation fee of a hundred golden louis he had signed a paper promising not to reveal these secrets to any prince, community, government, or individual without Mesmer's written consent, but the disciple was eager to impart his knowledge to his great friend and hoped to gain permission. Louis XVI was satirical. "What will Washington think when he learns that you have become first apothecary boy to Mesmer?" he asked.

Lafayette was planning a visit to America and sent a message to Mrs. Washington that he hoped "soon to thank her for a dish of tea at Mount Vernon." "Yes, my dear General, before the month of June is over you will see a vessel coming up the Potomac, and out of that vessel will your friend jump, with a panting heart and all the feelings of perfect happiness." He did indeed make the visit during the summer of 1784, though a few weeks later than June. Whether they had time during his ten days at Mount Vernon to talk about Mesmer history does not state. The hours must have been short for all the things clamoring to be said. Then Lafayette made a tour that carried him to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, as far west as Fort Schuyler, for another treaty-making powwow with his red brothers the Indians, and south to Yorktown. Everywhere bells pealed and balls and dinners were given. Before he turned his face toward France he had a few more quiet days at Mount Vernon with Washington, who accompanied him on his homeward way as far as Annapolis. At parting the elder man gave him a tender letter for Adrienne, and on the way back to Mount Vernon wrote the words of farewell which proved prophetic: "I have often asked myself, since our carriages separated, whether that was the last sight I ever should have of you; and though I wished to say No, my fears answered Yes."

Washington lived fourteen years longer; but in the mean time the storm of the French Revolution broke and everything that had seemed enduring in Lafayette's life was wrecked. Until that storm burst letters and invitations and presents flashed across the see as freely as though propelled by Mesmer's magic fluid. Mrs. Washington sent succulent Virginia hams to figure at dinners given by the Lafayettes in Paris. A picture of the household in the rue de Bourbon has come down to us written by a young officer to his mother:

"I seemed to be in America rather than in Paris. Numbers of English and Americans were present, for he speaks English as he does French. He has an American Indian in native costume for a footman. This savage calls him only 'father.' Everything is simple in his home. Marmontel and the AbbÉ Morrolet were dinner guests. Even the little girls spoke English as well as French, though they are very small. They played in English, and laughed with the Americans. This would have made charming subjects for English engravings."

Lafayette on his part sent many things to that house on the banks of the Potomac. He sent his friends, and a letter from him was an infallible open sesame. He sent his own accounts of journeys and interviews. He sent animals and plants that he thought would interest Washington, the farmer. Asses, for example, which were hard to get in America, and rare varieties of seeds. In time he sent the key of the Bastille. But that, as romancers say, is "another story," and opens another chapter in Lafayette's life.