Aug 2, 2025 4 min read

By Richard Robbins

Gilbert du Motier was 19 when he departed France for the United States in 1777, leaving behind a young daughter and a pregnant wife. He excitedly told his father-in-law, “You will be astounded. I am a general officer in the army of the United States. My zeal for their cause and my frankness won their confidence.”

Gilbert du Motier, though his real name, was kind of a cover. Gilbert was far better known as the Marquis de Lafayette, one of wealthiest men in the realm of the French king and absolute monarch, Louis XVI.

In short order, Lafayette became a favorite of Gen. George Washington and a darling of America’s republican revolutionaries struggling to free themselves of Great Britain, then the world’s preeminent power. But first he had to leave France and get to the New World.

This is one of three stories teased out at the beginning of a superb new book by Rick Atkinson. The book is “The Fate of the Day,” and it narrates, from both sides, no less, the American struggle for independence during the three years stretching from the battle of Fort Ticonderoga in 1777 to the battle of Charleston, S.C., in 1780.

“The Fate of the Day” is the second of three books planned by Atkinson about the American Revolution. The first is called, appropriately enough, “The British Are Coming.” In the course of a career that spans some 40 years, Atkinson has written extensively about the military, including a trilogy of prize-winning books brilliantly illuminating the role of the U.S. Army in World War II.

A master of historical narration, Atkinson’s precise, measured words and paragraphs never falter, never fatigue. We are lucky to have him, lucky to have him writing. His every jot is a reason for celebration.

(Atkinson is no stranger to these parts. He spoke at the State Theatre in Uniontown during the World War II “Heroes All” anniversary in 2005, two years after winning his third Pulitzer Prize.)

“The Fate of the Day” begins with the king and queen of France, Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, and their royal court, with a focus on Foreign Secretary Charles Gravier, the Comte de Vergennes, ” a deft, loyal monarchist, both prudent and audacious.”

From the sovereign and his courtiers, Atkinson moves on to America’s chief European envoy, “the lying, flattering, insincere, subtle Benjamin Franklin.”

A world-renowned scientist and the satirist behind “Poor Richard’s Almanac,” the 71-year old Franklin, “was made to excite the curiosity of Paris,” as one acquaintance cited by Atkinson said.

Indeed, the men and women of court couldn’t get enough of Franklin. Beyond dispute, all of Paris adored the man for his cordiality, his adaptability (one example Atkinson provides: He readily adopted the French custom of kissing rogue damsels on their necks so as not to smudge their carefully made-up faces), his eccentricities, and his democratic persona.

Franklin used every trick at his disposal in getting the French to aid the American cause. His amiable nature masked a committed revolutionary. An avid chess player, Franklin “played to win,” Atkinson notes, pretty much summing up the diplomatic game the wily and wise Franklin played in France.

Lafayette’s reasons for coming to America were several and varied. In addition to adventure, he might avenge his father’s death at British hands at the Battle of Minden in northern Germany in 1759 during the Seven Years’ War, the French and Indian War here.

“He seemed an unlikely hero … this boy marquis,” Atkinson writes. “Taller than average for his day, he stood five feet, nine inches, with a high receding brow beneath his shock of auburn hair…. He was a bit ungainly, perhaps still growing into his long limbs.”

Dismissed as a “nitwit” by Napoleon Bonaparte, Atkinson cites the Vicomte de Chateaubriand, a future French foreign minister, who concluded that Lafayette “had only one idea, and fortunately for him it was the idea of the century.”

The English economist John Stuart Mill, who got to know a much older Lafayette, is quoted by Atkinson as saying of his friend, “His was not the influence of genius, nor even of talent. It was the influence of a heroic character.”

Lafayette had high hopes for the new nation emerging in 1777. Writing his wife Adrienne, Lafayette prophesied that the United States was “destined to become the safe and venerable asylum of virtue, of honesty, of tolerance, of equality, and of peaceful liberty” in the world.

The marquis made a name for himself, and then some. As Atkinson notes, “Eventually his name would adorn some 600 towns, counties, schools, mountains, and other American landmarks.” Hello, Fayette County.

Richard Robbins lives in Uniontown. He can be reached at dick.l.robbins@gmail.com.