Lines, Written After the Departure of Lafayette [from his visit in the 1820s to the U.S.]

Columbia’s jubilee is o’er,
Her floods of joy subside;
Her friend—Lafayette—leaves her shore,
O’erwhelmed in sorrow’s tide,
Farewell, Columbia’s friend, farewell!
The gates that waft thee on,
The sighs of weeping millions swell,
Who mourn that thou art gone.

Here late the blaze of welcome burned,
And song and pomp proclaimed,
That Freedom’s champion had returned
To where his sword once flamed,
When struggling in the field of blood
Against a haughty foe,
Her Spartan phalanx nobly stood,
Returning blow for blow.

But silence, now, and mournful gloom,
Throughout the nation spread;
For here no more his smiles illume
The land for which he bled.
His presence breathed a holy spell,
That round our vast domain,
Like heavenly dews, or manna, fell,
And vanquished care and pain.

Now that enrapturing spell has flown,
And care and pain return—
Hark! Mingling with Columbia’s moan,
Sounds burst from Freedom’s urn—
“Farewell, my honor’d son!”
In plaintive tones resound,
Where heaves the tomb of Washington
On Vernon’s hallowed ground.

Behold! The nation bows in prayer
For her departed guest:
“Thy arm, Almighty Father, bare—
Send forth Thy high behest,
To guard Columbia’s reverend friend
From Danger’s varied power;
May peace and joy his life attend,
And bless his final hour!”

From The Lay of Gratitude: Consisting of Poems Occasioned by the Recent Visit of Lafayette to the United States, by Daniel Bryan (Philadelphia: H. C. Carey & I. Lea, 1826).

I cannot refrain from relating the following anecdote of Madame de Lasteyrie [Virginie de La Fayette], when she was confined with her relations in the castle of Olmutz, then about fifteen years of age, since it cannot but give pleasure to the reader. One day, her father, in entering her chamber, observed her standing in a corner with her hands clasped together, and her face turned towards the wall. Her father, whom she did not see, observed her for a moment, but not wishing to interrupt her, withdrew. He several times after noticed her in the same attitude, and asked in the most affectionate manner, if she was unwell; she blushed, and replied in the negative, but gave him no further answer. After repeated questioning from her mother, she at length acknowledged, that she was engaged in praying to God, for the deliverance of the Polish hero, Kosciusko, who was then groaning in Russian fetters, as her father was in those of Austria!

As the General had often spoken, in his family, of his former companion in arms, and detailed many of the curious and noble incidents of his life, the mind of Virginia, who strongly resembles her admirable mother, was filled with enthusiasm for this hero, and her imagination constantly recurred to him, and his achievements, and she prayed to Heaven for his deliverance, though she was not personally acquainted with him.

The General related this incident to me during our journey from Olmutz to Dresden, and I could not but admire this fine trait of character. The day after our arrival at Dresden, where we remained one day in order to allow Madame de La Fayette, who was weak and indisposed, time to recover from her fatigue, I purchased a full length engraving of Kosciusko, which I designed as a present for this young lady, and took it to General La Fayette’s room, where Madame de La Fayette then was. They were both delighted with the idea, and the daughter was immediately called. “Here,” said I, “Mademoiselle Virginia, is a little present, which I beg you to accept as a slight proof of my friendship;” at the same time I unrolled the portrait, without allowing her to look at the name. The moment she cast her eyes upon it, she blushed deeply, and threw herself into her mother’s arms, exclaiming, “‘Tis Kosciusko! It cannot be anyone else.” As soon as she recovered from her confusion, she accepted the print with a blush, though she never after mentioned the name of Kosciusko without emotion.