even
as Olmuetz had proved and tested the spirit of her husband. Through
all those tragic months Adrienne showed herself a woman of high and
unswerving courage.

Now, indeed, was the American citizenship of her husband--and it had
included his family also--of value to her. Madame de Lafayette's first
letter to Mr. Monroe shows this. This dignified letter is preserved in
the manuscript department of the New York Public Library and is here
printed for the first time:

"Having learned that a minister of the United States has recently
arrived in France, who has been sent by his government and invested
with powers representing a people in whose interests I have some
rights that are dear to my heart, I have felt that such misfortunes as
I have not already suffered were no longer to be feared for me, that
the most unjust of captivities was about to be at an end, and that my
sufferings accompanied by irreproachable conduct towards the
principles and towards the laws of my country, cause me to have
confidence in the name of this protecting nation at a moment when the
voice of justice is once more heard, and when the National Convention
is undertaking to deliver such patriots as have been unjustly
imprisoned. I have begun to hope that the wishes of my heart shall be
fulfilled--that I may be returned to my children. For ten months I
have been taken away from them. From the very moment of their birth
they have heard that they have a second country, and they have the
right to hope that they will be protected by it."

Through the official authority of Mr. Monroe, Madame de Lafayette was
given money and passports. When Washington first heard of her plight,
he sent her a reverent letter inclosing a thousand dollars, and he was
unceasing in his correspondence with representatives in France and
England for herself as well as for Lafayette. She sent her son, George
Washington de Lafayette, to his illustrious namesake in America, and
as "Madame Motier, of Hartford, Connecticut," she, with her two young
daughters, made her way to Hamburg where, instead of taking ship for
America, she took carriage across the wide spaces of Germany and
Austria. Here she gained an audience with the emperor, and bowing at
his feet asked permission to go to the fortress of Olmuetz and stay
with her husband until he was set free.

"Your request is granted," he said; "but as for Lafayette--I cannot
free him; my hands are tied." Exactly what it was that had