University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER VIII.

As the English colonies in America increased
in importance to the mother country, they began
also to feel the glowing impulses which were at
work in their own bosoms. Within the past century
Europe had made enormous strides in the
march of science and civilization. Star after star
had appeared above her horizon, to add brilliancy
to her intellectual heavens, until it seemed at length
as though all minor lights had been quenched in

the blaze of a sun that had risen never to decline.
For many years America had felt but feebly the
beams that were darting from every point of her
mother's countenance. She had not improved in
mind as she had expanded in body. But now a
change, natural, but rapid and wondrous, was to be
developed. The sun of learning did not, indeed, recede
from the east, but as he ascended higher in the
heavens his rays began to illumine the western world.
The time of infancy had passed; the struggle for
existence was happily over; the great battle with
the spirit of the wilderness had been fought, and
the victory was won. America did not pause in
her onward course, but she had now secured the
necessary and the useful, and she turned with the
eagerness of new desire to the comforts and elegancies
of social life. The arts grew in strength
as though born upon her soil. Men of science
successively arose, and already one was breathing
her air before whom succeeding ages have rejoiced
to kneel and be instructed. Printing presses began
to send forth the thoughts of her own children,
not drawn from the mind of the old world, but engendered
by the inspiration of a life more fresh,
more vigorous, and more free. In the great science
which teaches the rights of man and the method
of securing them, she was already far beyond
the fettered sages of the best and wisest governments
then known to European kingdoms.

As the colonies thus grew in general intelligence,
they approached nearer to each other, and encouraged
each co-attractive principle acting upon them.

More than a century before, the northern settlements
had formed a sisterhood that had tended
powerfully to increase their influence, their welfare,
and moral power.[363] A plan for a more extended
union had been proposed by Daniel Coxe, in 1741,
and twelve years afterwards, Benjamin Franklin
presented to a convention at Albany, a scheme
which, if carried out, would have drawn into the
closest embrace, all the sisters now so rapidly developing
their charms upon the soil of America.[364]
But the time for this measure, although approaching,
had not yet arrived. They were to feel a
more powerful motive than that furnished by mutual
love and a common country. They did not
yet confederate, but the causes binding them to
each other were already sufficiently strong to array
them in a united front against the enemy who first
assailed them.

This foe was France. The peace of Aix-la-Chapelle,
so inglorious to England, so favourable to
her opponents, had settled none of the disputed
points between herself and her hereditary enemy.
It had left undefined the boundaries of Nova
Scotia, the limits of English jurisdiction west of
the Alleghanies, the right of maritime seizure and
search, the operation of international law upon the
claims of both parties in the valley of the Ohio and

Mississippi Rivers.[365] It had indeed done nothing,
definite, except surrender Cape Breton to the
enemy, and send two English freemen into France
as hostages for England's good behaviour.[366] It
could not have been expected that such a peace
could be long continued. It held out to both parties
temptations to its rupture. To France it furnished
stimulus to farther encroachment; to England
it gave constant cause for disgust and discontent.

He who will accompany his review of the history
of this period by a glance at the map of North
America, as it was then divided, will see the critical
state of affairs between the French and British
interests, and the moral necessity urging them to
a conflict. Along the whole Atlantic coast, from
Halifax to Florida, the Anglo-American colonies
were spread, and from the sea they extended to an
indefinite and advancing line, that made yearly
approaches to the Mississippi River. They were
already powerful in population, in energy, in courage,
and intelligence. They looked upon the
land as their heritage, and were ready to contest
the claims of all who should oppose their progress.
The French held settlements upon the St. Lawrence
to its mouth. They claimed a few bleak
points on the coast of Acadia or Nova Scotia; and
on the great lakes which now bound the English

domain in Canada, they had established forts, and
gathered around them villages and towns. But
this constituted but a small part of their claim.
While their traders and colonists were yet struggling
with the rigours of a northern clime, Indian
narratives had told them of a magnificent stream,
that swept through the whole country, from the
north even to the Gulf of the south, and which
had drawn from savage admiration the name of
"The Father of Waters." In 1673, Marquette, a
Roman Catholic missionary, and Joliet, an envoy
of the French government, in an open boat, with
few attendants, had sailed down the Wisconsin and
entered the great Mississippi. The one came to
preach to the heathen the Gospel of the Prince of
Peace; the other to explore and to assert title to
their lands, as the appanage of an earthly monarch.
Amid the silence of nature, they passed the mouths
of the Missouri and the Ohio, nor did they arrest
their course until they had claimed the river as
their own, and could return to tell of the most
beautiful valley in the world, added, by their enterprise,
to the supposed possessions of their sovereign.[367] Nine years afterwards, La Salle descended
the river to its mouth.[368] The country around received
the name of Louisiana, from the reigning
prince, and efforts were immediately made to plant
colonists from the mother land upon this inviting
soil.

Such had been the success of France in extending
her discoveries in America. Her attempts at
colonizing had not, however, corresponded with
the activity of her movements. Although she had
planted settlers in Acadia before Englishmen ever
saw the site of Jamestown, yet she had been often
called to mourn over decayed towns and withered
hopes. The genius of her people did not fit them
for the labour of the colonist. They wanted not
industry, but they wanted perseverance. They
were not deficient in courage, but they sank easily
under opposing obstacles. A hard soil dismayed
them, and from the labour of the axe and the
plough they turned away in disgust. Pliant, excitable,
and fond of novelty, they preferred to trade
with and to live among the Indians, rather than to
fell trees, to turn furrows, and to build towns.
Their success with the children of the forest was
remarkable. The polite and graceful Frenchman
and the grim warrior of the west were quickly
united in bonds of amity; and if we except the Six
Nations, there were few tribes of America who did
not yield more or less to the seductive influences
of their allies from Gaul.[369] But Indian friendship
alone would not promote the interests of their colonies.
Their progress in numbers, in wealth, and
in general improvement, was slow—so slow, that
by the middle of the eighteenth century the French

settlements from Louisiana to the mouth of the St.
Lawrence numbered but fifty-two thousand souls,[370]
while between one and two millions were found
upon the soil of the British colonies.

Notwithstanding this difference in numbers, the
keen intellects which then governed France had
not been slow in perceiving certain advantages of
position, which, if properly used, would render
their power formidable to British interests in America.
By an extravagant construction of international
law, they claimed the whole valley of the
Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, by virtue of their
discovery in 1673. They insisted that the discovery
of a river gave title to all the country watered
either by itself or its tributaries, and that therefore
"the passing of Father Marquette down the Mississippi
in a canoe, invested his sovereign with a
title to the immense valley bounded by the Appalachian
Mountains on the one side and the Rocky
Mountains on the other."[371] This claim, though
perhaps not openly asserted, was secretly relied
upon, and all the measures of the Court of Versailles
tended to enforce it. They had long before
resolved to link together their possessions in Louisiana
and on the St. Lawrence by a chain of forts,
which should extend along the line of the Ohio
River, and which, if once permanently established,
would have effectually shut in the English settlements

to the narrow limits between the Atlantic
and the Alleghany Mountains.[372]

Many years before, the acute mind of Alexander
Spotswood had detected this scheme of French
ambition, and had warned the English government
to counteract it by commencing at once the
erection of fortresses on the Ohio. He also advised
the establishment of a company for the purpose of
exploring this splendid country, and of selecting
proper places for settlements or for trade with the
natives.[373] But his warning voice and his advice
were alike neglected. Had they been acted upon,
it may be that a bloody war might have been
averted; but it is common for man to despise the
counsels of wisdom, that he may taste the bitter
fruits of folly. When at length information was
received that the French had actually crossed Lake
Champlain, and had built a fort at Crown Point,
upon the soil of New York,[374] the eyes of the English
Ministry were opened to their designs, and they resolved
to meet them with corresponding preparation.

One year after the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, the
Parliament of England created a corporation, upon
which was bestowed the name of the Ohio Company.[375]
It was composed of merchants residing

in London, and of wealthy planters in Virginia,
who desired to engage in profitable trade. Six
hundred thousand acres of land, bordering upon
the Ohio River, were granted to them, and they
were likewise invested with the exclusive privilege
of trading with the Indians living within
their bounds. This extensive grant was designed
to carry out the scheme proposed by Spotswood,
but it was unhappily managed, and it proved the
immediate occasion of the fierce conflict which
followed.

Eager to avail themselves of their privileges,
the Company prepared to open the wilderness on
either side of the Ohio. This was the disputed
territory, for possession of which France and England
were contending; and, in their stern rivalry,
they forgot the claims of another people, who
were yet strong enough to render dangerous their
enmity.

The rights of the Indians had not been extinguished
by purchases or treaties. They claimed
the soil as occupants, and their rude settlements
gave them a title which rigid justice would not
have contemned.[376] It would not have been difficult
for the English to have conciliated the red
men by kindness, and by a few judicious gifts.
So much were they averse to the French, from
whom they had already experienced harsh treatment,
that they would willingly have united with
the other party, had they received any encouragement.[377]

But the avaricious corporation had no
policy so generous in their view. They were
intent upon gain, and thought not of Indian rights
and feelings. Surveyors, with brazen instruments
and measuring-chains, were speedily on the Ohio,
marking the possessions to which the Company
intended to lay claim. When the hapless natives
saw these well-known insignia, their hearts sank
within them. Driven backward from the ocean,
they had hoped for peace in the deep valley beyond
the mountains, and now they beheld the
omens of certain destruction still approaching their
fields and hunting grounds. It is not wonderful
that we read of a question proposed by two Indian
sachems to Gist, the agent of the Ohio Company,
while he was pursuing his surveys, upon this soil.
"Where," they asked, "lay the Indians' lands? for
the French claim all on one side of the Ohio, and
the English all on the other side."[378] There was a
deep and bitter irony concealed in this question,
which was soon to be merged in feelings more
infuriated and relentless; but the agents of the
Company gave no explanation to the savage diplomatists.
They observed profound mystery as to
their design, finished their surveys, and returned
to the east without molestation.

The crisis now approached. The French authorities
on the Lakes sent forces towards the Ohio,
and in a short time intelligence reached Williamsburg,
that a fort had been built on the river Le

Bœuf, which takes its rise not far from Lake Erie,
and is discharged into the Ohio. When the English
government were informed of these and prior
encroachments, they made fruitless complaints to
the ambassador of France; but while negotiations
were yet pending, they instructed the colonies to
defend themselves, to repel force by force, to build
two forts on the river, and to hold themselves ready
for hostilities. Thirty pieces of light cannon and
eighty barrels of powder accompanied these instructions
to Virginia,[379] and all parties felt that a
collision must soon take place. Determined to
proceed by fair and pacific measures, Governor
Dinwiddie prepared, as a final resource, to send a
message to the French commandant on the Ohio,
to remonstrate against his intrusion, and to warn
him that war was inevitable unless he withdrew.[380]

For this hazardous and delicate duty a young
Virginian was selected, who had but just attained
his twenty-first year. Volumes have since been
written concerning him; his name has gone abroad
through all lands; the world claims him as her
citizen, and honours him as her only spotless hero.
To tell, therefore, of his birth, his childhood, his
riper years, or his fully developed character, would
be to repeat that with which all have rejoiced to
render themselves familiar. Yet as he enters upon

the stage of active life, History instinctively pauses
to gaze for a moment upon the man who is destined
to confer upon her records, honour as imperishable
as his own. Could she now call down upon him a
ray of glory more brilliant than any that has yet
darted on his name, she would win, by the deed, a
most exalted triumph. But the task is vain. The
name of George Washington may cause the heart
of an American to beat with a quickened impulse,
but it has already been placed too high in the temple
of renown, to be farther elevated by the praise
of mortals.

He held the rank of major in the colonial military
establishment, and was already well known for
his rare union of the virtues of zeal, prudence, and
courage. Receiving from the Governor his instructions,
and a passport bearing the broad seal of the
colony, he left Williamsburg on the 31st day of
October, and passing through Fredericksburg,
Alexandria, and Winchester, he arrived in fourteen
days at Wills' Creek, on the Potomac.[381] This point
is now known as Cumberland, on the great western
route from Washington City to the Ohio: it was
then nearly the extreme of European settlement.
Beyond it were gloomy forests, ice-bound rivers,
rugged mountains, and treacherous savages. There
was enough in this prospect to daunt the boldest
spirit, but it had no effect upon Washington, except
to add caution to his firmness. His party now
consisted of eight persons, among whom we find

Gist, the former agent of the Ohio Company.
Over the frozen Alleghanies; with their summits
covered with snow, and their valleys flooded by
impetuous streams from above, the adventurers
slowly made their way. Rafts were often constructed
to cross the larger rivers, but they were
useless in contending with mountain torrents. At
length, after severe toil, they reached the point
where the Monongahela and Alleghany Rivers
unite and form the majestic Ohio. The eye of
Washington instantly saw the importance of this
place. He determined that if possible it should
be defended by a Virginia fortress; but he then
little knew the fearful interest with which the passions
of man were soon to invest it.[382]

Twenty miles below the fork, they reached Logstown,
a small settlement on the Ohio, and having
convened as many Indian braves as he could find,
Washington addressed to them a speech, telling
them the object of his mission, and asking their
assistance. Already the jealousy of the red men
had been excited by the movements of the French,
and Tanacharison, the Half King, had visited their
fort, and with native eloquence had remonstrated
against their intrusion.[383] Finding their independence
endangered, the Indians were disposed to
look upon the English as guardians, and the Half
King addressed the young envoy in terms of peace
and confidence.

After a delay of a few days, Washington, accompanied
by the chief and three other Indians, set out
for the French post, which was one hundred and
twenty miles from the Ohio. Persevering progress
against many obstacles, brought him to the
object of his mission. St. Pierre, the commandant,
a knight of the military order of St. Louis, was already
advanced in years, and added to the experience
of the practised soldier, the courteous manners
of the gentleman. He received Washington with
politeness, and read the message of Dinwiddie with
respect, but in reply declared that it was not for
him to determine territorial rights and treaty obligations;
that he would transmit the message to his
superior, the Marquis Duquesne, then governing
Canada, but that, in the mean time, he could not
obey any summons to retire from his present position.[384]

This answer might have been anticipated, and it
was decisive of the question of peace and war. Although
the French authorities treated Washington
with marked respect, entertained him during his
stay, and loaded his boat with wines and provision
on his departure, yet they attempted to seduce the
Indians from their duty, and to attach them to their
own interest.[385] The youthful envoy hastened back
to report the result of his expedition. Difficulties

and dangers surrounded him. Winter had locked
the wilderness in chains, and excessive fatigue and
exposure had reduced even the feeble force with
which he commenced his journey. As we follow
Washington in his perilous course—often on foot
amid snows and tempest, once assailed by Indian
perfidy, now struggling to regain his raft amid the
waves of the Monongahela, where floating ice
threatened his instant destruction—we tremble at
the thought that a life so valuable should have been
thus exposed. But he was shielded by the hand
of One who already beheld and directed his exalted
destinies. (1754.) On the 16th day of January,
after an absence of eleven weeks, he reached Williamsburg,
and delivered to the Governor the answer
of St. Pierre.[386]

Nothing now remained but to make preparations
for war. The English government had advised
the colonies to repel aggression by force; and when
Washington's journal of his late embassy was published
in London, it excited not only respect for its
author, but a firm resolve to meet promptly the
hostile approaches of France. Dinwiddie despatched
messages to the other colonies, informing
them of the crisis, and urging them to unite with
Virginia in opposing the enemy's advance on the
Ohio. North Carolina and New York promptly
responded to the call, and prepared to send military

forces to the threatened point. Other provinces
were yet undecided. Some were not convinced of
the danger; some believed it, but thought their own
frontiers would require all the protection they could
give. The Virginia Assembly voted ten thousand
pounds for defence, by an act which bore an evasive
title, "For the encouragement and protection
of settlers on the waters of the Mississippi." Dinwiddie
was greatly chagrined by this act, which he
said intimated a doubt as to the title of his Britannic
Majesty to the interior of his dominions; but he
concealed his displeasure, and prepared for active
war.[387]

Six companies of provincial troops were raised,
to be commanded by Colonel Joshua Fry, a native
of England, and a gentleman much esteemed for
his mathematical learning and his amiable character.
Washington was second in command, with
the rank of lieutenant-colonel. His brave spirit
urged him to immediate advance; and two companies
having been fully formed, he marched from
Alexandria to Wills' Creek, on his route to the
Ohio. Here he received startling intelligence:
forty-one Virginians had commenced a fort at the
junction of the Monongahela and Alleghany; but,
in the midst of their work, an overwhelming force
of French, consisting of nearly a thousand men, in
three hundred canoes, and with many pieces of
cannon, the whole commanded by M. Contrecœur,
poured down upon them, drove them from the spot,
took possession in the name of France, and completed

the fort, which, in honour of the Governor
of Canada, they called Fort Duquesne.[388]

Washington's duty was now doubtful. Colonel
Fry had not yet joined him, and his force was feeble
compared with the numbers of whom accounts
had just been received. But he was always ready
to advance rather than retreat. Pushing on boldly
through the wilderness, he hoped to be able to erect
a fort on the Monongahela, at the mouth of Redstone
Creek, in time to arrest the farther progress
of the French. After crossing the Yohogany, he
arrived at a spot well known as the "Great Meadows."
The country was open and level, with
little to obstruct progress except bushes and undergrowth,
which were easily uprooted. Washington
here halted for a short time, to gather advices as to
the movements of the enemy.[389] Friendly Indians
joined him; and among them came Tanacharison,
the Half King, from whom he received many evidences
of affection and fidelity.

Learning that the French were advancing upon
him with a force concerning which he could gain
no definite knowledge, he moved cautiously forward,
encamping at night with a strong sentry guard.
After their invasion and capture of Fort Duquesne,
he could not doubt their hostile designs, and he
would have been guilty of unpardonable imprudence
had he still looked upon them in any other

light than as enemies. When, therefore, he was
informed that a small party had advanced near to
his position, that they came with great secrecy,
and that they had left the main route and were encamped
in a dark vale, as if to secure concealment,
he did not hesitate to prepare for the attack. (May
28.) Dividing his troops into two lines, he marched
under the direction of Indian guides. A stormy
night favoured his scheme, and at daybreak he
had nearly surrounded the French, who, suddenly
aroused from sleep, seized their arms. A simultaneous
fire took place; the provincial troops rushed
forward, and the French surrendered, having by
the first discharge lost their commander, M. Jumonville,
and ten of their number. One of Washington's
men was killed, and three were wounded.[390]
Thus the first blood was shed in a war which has
been not inappropriately called the "native of
America,"[391] and which speedily involved Europe
and her dependencies in a conflict of more than
wonted violence.

While the remainder of the regiment, of which
the advance guard was commanded by Washington,
prepared to join him, Colonel Fry died suddenly
at Wills' Creek; and thus the whole responsibility
devolved upon the younger officer. At the
Great Meadows he was joined by two independent

companies, one from New York and another from
South Carolina. The last was commanded by
Captain Mackay, who held a commission under the
English crown, and claimed precedence of the colonial
officers; but though this absurd whim threatened
for a season to produce disastrous results, the
impendence of danger soon caused all to submit
quietly to the superior genius of Washington.[392]
He directed a small stockade fort to be erected at
the Meadows, which afterwards claimed for itself
the title of Fort Necessity,[393] and at the head of
nearly four hundred effective men he turned his
face resolutely towards Fort Duquesne. He had
but just reached the foot of Laurel Hill, thirteen
miles from Fort Necessity, when he was met by
friendly Indians, who warned him not to proceed,
assuring him, in the figurative style to which nature
is always inclined, that enemies were approaching
"as numerous as pigeons in the woods."[394] Deserters
confirmed this report, and the Half King and the
Queen Aliquippa, from a tribe in the vicinity of
the "Great Fork," by their eager admonitions left
no room for doubt. A council of war was called.
Many difficulties assailed them. Ill-timed parsimony,
in their several provinces, had left men and
officers without sufficient pay; their bread was exhausted;
for six days they had not tasted this species
of food; other provisions began to fail, and
their horses grew daily weaker from fatigue and
famine.[395] Under these circumstances it would have
been madness to encounter in the open field a foe
who outnumbered them in the proportion of three
to one; and it was unanimously resolved that they
should return to the fort at the Great Meadows.
(June 28.)

Here they strained every nerve to complete the
stockade and to sink a ditch around it ere the foe
should appear. Before these were finished, fifteen
hundred French and Indians, commanded by M.
De Villier, rapidly advanced, and seemed confident
that superior numbers would secure to them
an easy prey. But they were destined to disappointment.
The mature judgment of Washington
had been shown in the position of Fort Necessity.
In the midst of an even meadow, and surrounded
on all sides by a level surface, which extended
more than two hundred and fifty yards without a
point of concealment, it gave all advantages to the
defence and none to the attack. As the enemy
came up, they commenced firing at long distances,
but their balls were thrown away; and when they
ventured nearer, they were singled out and cut
down by the keen marksmen within the stockade,
and in the ditch without. From ten o'clock in the
morning until dark the engagement continued;

during all this time Washington remained outside
of the wall, encouraging his men, who were often
sunk to the knees in mud and water.[396] De Villier
found that he had met a determined foe; already
two hundred of his men had been killed or disabled,
and yet no impression had been made on the
stockade. To advance to the assault would have
been rash, and would probably have been fatal to
three-fourths of his remaining number. To conquer
by famine was an uncertain means; he knew
not the resources of the garrison, nor did he know
how soon they might be relieved by reinforcements.
Under these circumstances he demanded a parley,
which was at first declined by Washington, from
apprehensions of treachery; but when the demand
was repeated, and an earnest message from De
Villier requested that an officer should be sent out
to him, for whose safety he pledged his honour as
a soldier, the young commander no longer felt himself
at liberty to refuse.[397]

Captain Vanbraam, a Dutch soldier, who knew
more of the art of fighting than of the niceties of
the French language, was sent to De Villier. He
was the only man in the fort then in condition to
act as interpreter, yet was his ignorance so great
as to be the means of injuring the fair fame of his

commander in the eyes of a great and generous
people. (July 4.) The articles agreed upon were
highly honourable to the provincial forces. They
were to retain all their arms, except the artillery;
to march out with drums beating and colours flying;
to preserve as much of their baggage as they
could carry away; and to proceed, unmolested by
the savages, to the frontiers of Virginia.[398] Captains
Vanbraam and Stobo were to be retained as hostages
by the French until the return of certain prisoners
previously captured, among whom was La
Force, a character to be noted hereafter.[399] Such
were the terms of capitulation, as they were explained
to Colonel Washington, who, being ignorant
of the French tongue, was obliged to trust to
interpreters. Whether De Villier designedly took
advantage of this fact or not, we do not know; but
it is certain that the articles contained a word, the
import of which was appreciated neither by Vanbraam
nor by his young commander; and its effect
was to give to Washington the appearance of acknowledging
that in the death of Jumonville, himself
and his party had been guilty of deliberate
murder![400] So artfully was this matter arranged,
that when accounts of the opening of hostilities
reached Paris, profound emotion pervaded the public
mind. Jumonville was looked upon as an assassinated
hero. Washington was vilified as his
murderer, and an epic poem was founded on the
affecting tragedy! Many years passed away before
the writers of France were willing to acknowledge
the injustice done to a character that has since been
the subject of some of their most splendid eulogies.

After the surrender of Fort Necessity, the provincial
troops marched towards Virginia; and notwithstanding
the engagement of De Villier, the
savages were not prevented from resorting to their
wonted attacks upon a disabled foe. They hung
upon their rear, and constantly harassed them, destroying
the feeble and threatening the bold.[401] At
length the regiment arrived at Winchester, having
sustained a total loss of about seventy men. The
Virginia troops suffered most severely. They were
earliest in action, and never recoiled from the post
of danger. When official accounts of the events of
this campaign were received in Williamsburg, the
Assembly passed a vote of thanks to Washington
and all who had served under him, expressed their
perfect content with their conduct, and voted three
hundred pistoles for the supply of their immediate
wants.[402] This approval had been well merited.
They had surmounted formidable difficulties, had
kept a superior foe at bay, and even in defeat had

secured to themselves a most honourable capitulation.

Governor Dinwiddie was wholly ignorant of military
affairs; but, with the confidence often attending
ignorance, he opened a plan for another campaign.
Colonel Innes, of North Carolina, who was
a favourite with Dinwiddie, was appointed to supreme
command in the provincial army. He was
a gentleman, but not a soldier, and his appointment
gave small satisfaction. What he might have done
in the field we know not, for events did not bring
him into actual conflict. But Dinwiddie had magnificent
ideas, and immediately ordered that the
army, which, as now reinforced, did not number
eight hundred men, should march from Winchester,
again cross the Alleghanies, defeat the Indians
and French, and capture Fort Duquesne.[403] When
Washington heard these mad orders, he was astonished
and distressed, but without delay he repaired
to the post of duty. To recruit troops without money,
to march into a wilderness without supplies,
to encounter the snow-storms of the Alleghany region
without tents, and to defeat a daring foe without
one-half his numbers; these were the Governor's
commands, and he was surprised that they were
not promptly obeyed. But the Virginia Assembly
relieved the officers and the army from their dilemma.
They refused to vote a supply of money
for increasing the regiment.[404] The Governor was
vexed, and in an indignant message to the Assembly

he expressed his displeasure at their conduct;
but they adhered firmly to their purpose, and his
plan for the campaign at once vanished into air.

Dinwiddie had none of the chivalrous feeling
which ought to have existed in the bosom of a chief
magistrate of the Old Dominion. He looked upon
the operations of war with the crude views of a
custom-house clerk; and his treatment of a prisoner,
whom the laws of military honour required him to
protect, evinced his meanness of spirit. Early
in the last campaign, a Frenchman named La
Force had been captured by Washington; and
being suspected of having acted as a spy for his
government, he was sent to Williamsburg, and
carefully guarded. Nothing attaching special guilt
to his case appeared; and in the capitulation at Fort
Necessity, it was expressly agreed that La Force
should be released from prison and permitted to
return to his companions. Yet Dinwiddie refused
to comply with this article, and Washington's remonstrances
were vain. The captive was a man
of inventive genius, of indomitable resolution, and
of great bodily powers; and finding his liberty thus
denied to him, he escaped from prison at Williamsburg,
and sought to make his way to Fort Duquesne.
So much courage merited success; but at
King and Queen Court-house, he fell in with a
backwoodsman, to whom his questions exposed
his character. The sturdy Virginian instantly
arrested him; and notwithstanding all his entreaties,
he was conducted back to Williamsburg. The
Governor's triumph was great; and with unmanly

rigour, he directed La Force to be laden with
double irons, and chained to the floor of his dungeon.
Washington renewed his entreaties for his
release, and painted, in strong colours, the dishonour
attendant on this conduct; but Dinwiddie was
deaf to his prayers, nor was La Force ever enlarged
until his persecutor left the colony.[405]

In the mean time, the hostages Vanbraam and
Stobo had been confined, without any unusual
harshness, in Quebec. They too had broken prison,
and Stobo succeeded in making his escape,
but Vanbraam had fainted with fatigue, and was
conducted back to captivity. Even then no retaliatory
measures were adopted; the French governor
was humane and generous, the English clerk
was mean and vindictive.[406]

During the winter, Dinwiddie received from
England ten thousand pounds in specie for the expenses
of the war. This would have been liberal,
had it not been accompanied by orders instructing
him to place the whole provincial force on the
footing of independent companies, and to assign
corresponding rank to their officers. The effect
of this was, to reduce all superior officers in the
colonies to the grade of captains, and to make them
subordinate even to those holding the same nominal
rank in the regular army.[407] The high spirit of
George Washington could not brook this unjust

degradation. He had been first in danger and in
suffering, had led soldiers to victory, and had preserved
them from death; and to be now reduced
in rank, and placed beneath the captains of the
British service, was a descent to which he would
not submit. No man who can appreciate the feelings
of an honourable soldier will blame his course.
He immediately resigned his commission and returned
to private life.

(1755.) England now made vigorous preparations
for carrying on the war in America. Early
in the spring, two regiments of troops from Ireland
arrived in Hampton Roads, and they were
soon followed by the Sea-Horse and Nightingale
ships of war, giving convoy to transports for soldiers
and military supplies. The whole assembled
at Alexandria, which presented the most eligible
point for their subsequent operations. Major-General
Edward Braddock was the commander. He
had won fame on the plains of Europe, and came
to gather fresher laurels amid the forests of America.
He was brave, but imprudent; rigid in discipline,
but inexperienced in the duty now before
him. He was too haughty to be beloved. His
officers were repulsed by his austerity; his men
were alienated by his excessive rigour. Ere he
left England, the Duke of Cumberland had warned
him that he must not expect amid the wilderness
the regular fighting and manœuvres of European
tactics, and had specially urged him to beware of
surprise and ambush.[408] But Braddock despised

his enemies, and believed that compact columns of
grenadiers would instantly put them to flight.

Having learned enough of Washington to induce
a strong wish to secure his services, the commander-in-chief
urged him to accept the place of one
of his aids. Burning with desire to serve his
country, when he could do so without a compromise
of honour, Washington complied with this
request, and asked only a short time to arrange his
private affairs before joining the army.[409] The
whole force moved from Alexandria in April.
Two complete British regiments in admirable condition,
and several bodies of provincial troops, comprised
a total of nearly two thousand five hundred
men. Braddock commanded in chief, and under
him were Colonel Dunbar and Sir Peter Halket.
Without difficulty they reached Wills' Creek,
where a fort had been erected under the eye of
Colonel Innes, which had received the name of
Cumberland, in honour of his warlike highness.
Here an unexpected delay awaited them. The
Virginia contractors had not supplied the requisite
number of wagons and teams for transporting the
baggage, and precious days were lost ere this defect
could be remedied.[410] General Braddock was
wrought up to a paroxysm of rage by this disappointment,

and it required all the philosophy of
Benjamin Franklin to restore him to good humour.
This great man then held the office of postmaster-general
in the colonies, and by active exertions he
succeeded in obtaining from the Pennsylvania farmers
one hundred and fifty wagons, which were
immediately placed under the control of the commander-in-chief.[411]

But the principal difficulties were yet to be encountered.
Beyond Fort Cumberland was the
wilderness of the West, with its mountains and
ravines, its thick forests and matted undergrowth.
Roads were to be traversed along which man had
seldom passed; and so rugged was the way, that
often they could only advance by doubling their
teams in front, and continuing this tedious process
to the last wagon of the train. Their line often
extended to four miles in length; and, while thus
attenuated, an attack on the flank or rear would
have been almost certainly fatal. Washington had
advised, that, for conveying the baggage, pack-horses
should be used, instead of vehicles; but his
counsel was at first rejected, and was at last but
partially applied. Thus the army crept forward
so slowly, that three days after leaving Fort Cumberland
it had gained but ten miles. This torturing
delay, together with his constant exposure
and fatigue, preyed upon the health of Colonel
Washington, and he was prostrated by a violent
fever, which threatened a fatal result. (June 15.)

He was no longer able to keep the saddle, and a
covered wagon furnished the only practicable mode
of conveyance. Even in this state, his mind continued
to dwell upon the affairs of the army, and
his advice was still sought by his superior officers.
He strenuously urged that the heavy baggage and
a part of their force should be left behind, and that
a select body should push rapidly forward to Fort
Duquesne. His reasons were sound. The French
were reported to be yet weak at this point; but
powerful reinforcements were expected, and would
arrive as soon as the waters of Le Bœuf were
swelled by summer rains.[412] Each moment of delay
rendered the success of the English more doubtful.

A council of war approved this plan, and General
Braddock hastened to carry it into execution.
Colonel Dunbar, with the heaviest part of the baggage,
with the troops least fitted for active service,
and with such stores as could be left, remained in
the rear. A select corps of twelve hundred men,
taken from the two regiments, and embracing
nearly all the provincial forces, was detailed for
the advance. They carried on horses all the baggage
absolutely necessary, and they were instructed
to divest themselves of every thing that would
impede a rapid march. General Braddock commanded
in person, and under him were Sir Peter
Halket, now an acting brigadier, Lieutenant-Colonels
Gage and Burton, and Major Spark.[413]

As long as his increasing indisposition would
permit, Washington continued with the commander-in-chief.
He told him of the danger from ambush,
and urged him to employ all the friendly
Indians who offered themselves, as scouts for the
army. Had this been done, surprise would have
been impossible; for these men of the forests would
have detected each concealed party, and warned
the English in time to preserve them. But Braddock
received the natives with coldness, and though
he accepted some of them, he was so forbidding in
his demeanour, that they became disgusted, and,
one after another, they left him to his fate.[414] This
was the first omen that portended the coming
storm.

Washington saw, with deep regret, that the advanced
corps did not push forward with the zeal
that would have insured success. Edward Braddock
could not sacrifice the dignity of regular tactics,
to a regard for American warfare. Every
mole-hill must be levelled; each insignificant
brook was to be spanned by a bridge. Not far
from the Little Meadows, the fever of Washington
became so violent that his life was in hazard, and
he was compelled most reluctantly to obey Braddock's
commands, and remain in camp until he
was in some degree restored.

His last counsel was, that rangers, selected from
the provincial troops, should be employed to scour
the woods in advance of the army, in order to

guard against the deadly ambush of the savages.[415]
But no such precaution was adopted. Slowly the
troops made their way through the rugged paths
leading down the slope from the Alleghanies to
the Ohio. So deliberate was their progress, that
four days were employed in marching the nineteen
miles which intervened between the Little Meadows
and the Shallows, near the mouth of the
Yohogany.[416]

Here, on the 8th day of July, Washington rejoined
the army, and entered upon his duties as aid
to the commander. His fever had left him, but his
strength was not fully restored, and nothing but an
unconquerable spirit could have prepared him for
the scene that followed.

Braddock gave the command for crossing the
river. A glance at the map will convey a correct
view of the route. Fifteen miles above Pittsburg,
where Fort Duquesne then stood, the Monongahela
makes an ample bend, commencing at a point immediately
below the mouth of the Yohogany
River. The road along the northern margin of
this bend was rugged and circuitous, and to avoid
it, the General determined to cross the Monongahela
twice in a direct route to the French fortress.[417] On the morning of the 9th the army was
in motion, and passed the river without interruption.
Those who were eye-witnesses of the scene
have told us that one more brilliant and picturesque

has seldom been presented. The British troops
were in full uniform, and traversed the woods of
America with the regular step of the parade ground.
Their bayonets glittered in the sun, and the flash
of warlike steel contrasted strongly with the deep
and peaceful verdure of the forest shade. The
Monongahela flowed tranquilly on their right,
the road seldom departed from its borders, and on
the left were trees of primitive growth and magnificence,
among which the woodman's axe had
never been heard.[418] The men were in high discipline,
and their spirits were already excited by
the hope of soon entering in triumph into Fort
Duquesne. Three hundred regulars, under Colonel
Gage, formed the advance, and a similar body
of two hundred followed at a short interval. Next
came the artillery, under the General in person,
and these were followed by the provincial troops,
the main body of the army, and the baggage train.
By one o'clock, the whole had passed the second
crossing of the Monongahela, and were ascending
the slope from its banks, within seven miles of their
proposed point of attack.[419]

At this moment a terrible fire was opened upon
the vanguard by hidden foes, in the long grass and
ravines around them. Not an Indian or a Frenchman
could be seen, but their weapons poured death
upon the defenceless ranks of the regulars. Volley
after volley was heard, and every shot told with

fatal power among the English troops. Amid this
destructive storm the grenadiers halted in confusion
and returned the fire, but obviously without
effect. Brave men may be stricken with fear when
assailed by a novel and concealed danger. As their
numbers were thinned by each successive discharge
from the enemy, the regulars lost all presence
of mind, and falling back in dismay upon
their comrades, involved the whole army in distress
and disorder. General Braddock was among
the bravest of the brave, but his efforts to restore
courage to his troops were utterly in vain. Instead
of resorting to a mode of warfare suited to the forest,
and directing his men at once to seek the enemy
with the bayonet, he attempted to form them into
even platoons and solid columns, as though he
were manœuvring on the plains of Flanders.
The result was most appalling. Crowded together
in masses, in which each man did but encumber
his fellows, the regulars kept up a wavering fire,
wholly ineffective as to the enemy, and often fatal
to their own comrades and officers. Upon these
masses the French and Indian sharpshooters poured
in continuous volleys, not one shot of which was
thrown away. The English were cut down in
scores, and it soon became evident that their total
discomfiture was at hand.[420]

In no battle in modern ages has there been a
greater loss of officers, in proportion to the number

engaged, than among the English in the slaughter
of the Monongahela. The French had drawn
up their forces in the shape of a crescent, in
the grass and ravines across the route, and flanking
parties of Indians extended along the whole
line of their enemy's array. Had Braddock ordered
up his ten pieces of light artillery, he
might have raked the wood with grape-shot, and
given time to his troops for recovery from their
panic.[421] But the army officers, although possessed
of dauntless courage, had no experience in
forest warfare. The Indians knew them by their
brilliant uniforms, and, singling them out as marks
for their deadly rifles, brought them down one
after another, until of eighty-six who had crossed
the river with their regiments in the morning,
but twenty-three remained unhurt.[422] Sixty-three
were either killed or wounded. While this drama
of death was in progress, the Virginia troops alone
retained their courage and capacity. Abandoning
all attempts to keep close order, they spread themselves
in the wood, and from the shelter of trees
returned the fire of the enemy. Yet no part of the
English army suffered more than these brave provincials.
"They fought like men, and died like
soldiers."[423] Of one company of twenty-nine, twenty-five
were killed. Of another, commanded by
the gallant Polson, a single private was the only
survivor. Captain Peronny, who had been with
Washington at the Great Meadows, was killed, and
with him fell every officer of his command, even to
the lowest corporal.[424] Thirty men were all that
remained from three full companies of Virginians
who had gone into battle.

On this disastrous day, Washington displayed
the courage of a hero, and the conduct of a general.
Two aids of Braddock had fallen, and on the
young colonial officer devolved the hazardous duty
of distributing his general's commands. As he
galloped through the battle-field, his horse received
a mortal wound, and sunk beneath him. Another
was immediately supplied, but was shot under him
before the retreat commenced. Four bullets pierced
his coat, yet not one inflicted the slightest wound.[425]
An eye-witness in the conflict, watched his motions
with thrilling interest, expecting each moment to
see him fall to the ground.[426] A savage chieftain
marked him, as he rode again and again through
the field, and, drawing his rifle to his shoulder,
took deliberate aim, and fired. The ball swerved
from its course: the intended victim was unharmed.
The fire was repeated, but with like result. Calling
his red men around him, the warrior pointed
out the young brave, whose life he sought, and directed
their rifles upon him. But every shot was

harmless. The savages desisted, in superstitious
fear; yet were they just in their reasoning. A
greater Spirit than they had ever worshipped preserved
the future Liberator of America.[427]

But his unhappy general was not thus protected.
Already three-fourths of his officers had fallen. Sir
Peter Halket was stricken down by the first fire,
and, a few moments after, the secretary of Braddock,
and son of Governor Shirley, of Massachusetts,
fell by his side.[428] For three hours the carnage
continued, but the commander remained untouched.
He exposed his person to the hottest
fire, and used every exertion to restore confidence
to his panic-stricken troops. Three horses in succession
fell under him, and at length a musket-ball
pierced his right arm, and, passing through his
lungs, inflicted a mortal wound.[429] Washington
hastened to his relief, and, with Captain Stewart,
of the Guards, brought him off in safety from the

field, that he might escape the Indian scalping-knife,
and die among his friends.[430]

From this moment, the rout of the English
army was complete. The regulars broke from
their ranks and fled in dismay towards the river.
Artillery, ammunition, baggage, colours, all were
abandoned to the enemy; and it is probable that
this circumstance alone preserved the defeated
troops from total destruction. The savages revelled
in the plunder spread before them, and the
French could not persuade them to leave the field
and join them in pursuit.[431] But for this, the unhappy
English might have met the same fearful
fate which, nearly one hundred years afterwards,
annihilated an army amid the mountains of Affghanistan,
in Asia.[432] Few would have survived to
tell the tale of death. Yet this thought will afford
but melancholy consolation, when we look to the
actual loss of the battle of the Monongahela.
Twelve hundred men, in buoyant health, had
crossed the river, and not more than two hundred
returned uninjured.[433] Of the French and Indians,
it is supposed that not more than forty were killed,

and it is probable that each one of these fell under
the fire of the provincial forces.

The army retreated to the camp of Dunbar,
where Braddock breathed his last. The panic
diffused itself even through the troops who had
not been in action. A rapid and ruinous retreat
was continued. All their heavy baggage was
abandoned, or else was burned by order of they
knew not whom; the artillery was left; the public
stores were destroyed; and the retrograde
march was not arrested until they reached Wills'
Creek, nearly one hundred and fifty miles from
Fort Duquesne. So fatal a battle had seldom
been followed by a flight so long and so disheartening.[434]

Thus ended the expedition of Edward Braddock
against Fort Duquesne. Had his hopes been
less, and his fears greater, he might at least have
avoided defeat, if he did not achieve victory. But
years elapsed before officers bred in Europe learned
the dangers of Indian warfare. Colonel Dunbar
feared for his safety even in Winchester, and in a
short time led the remnant of his army to winter
quarters in Philadelphia.

Genuine merit often shines more brightly because
surrounded by darkness and adverse fortune.
The Legislature of Virginia voted three
hundred pounds to Colonel Washington, and proportionate
sums to the other colonial officers and

privates who had displayed so much heroism in
the battle of the Monongahela. All could see that
had Washington been chief in command, a triumph
might have been hoped for the British arms. He
gained rapidly in the confidence and affections
of his countrymen. Even the pulpit spake his
praises, and one of the most eloquent of American
ministers named him as an object for the
respect of Christian patriots.[435] The Governor, notwithstanding
his partiality for Innes, could not
resist the appeal of facts in favour of the younger
officer. The appointment of commander-in-chief
of the Virginia forces was tendered to Washington;
but before he would accept it he prescribed indispensable
conditions, among which were the nomination
of his own officers, and a guarantee for the
prompt supply of military stores and of payment
to his men. These terms were instantly accepted;
and they bear in themselves the highest testimony
to the worth of him who could secure them.[436] The
General Assembly voted forty thousand pounds
for public exigencies, and increased their regiment
to sixteen companies.

(1756.) These movements were not premature,
nor was the office of Washington one without
responsibility and hazard. Already rumours of
savage incursions were borne from the west. The
defeat of Braddock had left the whole frontier
exposed, and alarm pervaded every family of the

Shenandoah Valley. Washington had arrived at
Fredericksburg, on his way to the seat of government,
when intelligence reached him which called
him back to Winchester. Large bodies of Indians
from the Ohio crossed the Alleghanies, and spreading
themselves into small parties, carried desolation
and death into each defenceless homestead. They
gave no quarter, and spared neither age nor sex.
Women and children were chosen objects of their
barbarity. Many were left weltering in blood on
the floors of their own dwellings. Many were
carried into the wilderness, to be put to death with
nameless tortures. A few survived to return, after
years of degradation and suffering, passed among
native tribes on the Ohio and the Northern Lakes.[437]

In reading of these assaults, we find it difficult
to believe that the red man of the American forests
is indeed the courageous being that he is sometimes
represented to be. It is not easy to separate
the ideas of generosity and true courage, in conceiving
the character of any man; but in the
savages we find nothing that does not excite disgust
and contempt. To maltreat woman has
always been the characteristic of the coward;
and woman has been universally maltreated by
the Indian. To torture the unhappy child, and
to glory in his agonies, can evince nothing but
a thrice-degraded nature; and such has been

the course of the Indian.[438] To fly before an inferior
force of brave men is the act of a craven;
and it has been invariably done by the Indian.
To resort to perfidy, falsehood, mean duplicity, is
conduct which nature pronounces dishonouring;
and in this has been the chief pride of the Indian.
As we trace their steps in their attacks upon the
people of the Valley, we know not whether to
detest more their remorseless treachery or their
base cowardice. Weakness they crushed, but
a single manly spirit often held them at bay.
One noble woodman of Shenandoah has gained
a right to immortality, by slaying five armed
savages with the clubbed barrel of his rifle, after
the stock had been shivered on the head of the
sixth. The Indians fled with horror from his
house, believing him to be the Great Author of
Death, and warning all their compeers to avoid
him.[439]

So great was the terror caused by these attacks
of the savages, that many of its inhabitants forsook
the Valley, and fled to counties east of the Blue
Ridge.[440] Even after the termination of hostilities
between the English and French, the Indian murders
continued from time to time, until the year
1766, when they were suspended on the immediate
Virginia frontier.

But when Washington arrived at Winchester,
all was confusion and alarm; women flying from
their homes—children saved only to tell of butchered
parents—houses burned to the ground—agriculture
totally ruined: such were the sights which
now marred the face of the Valley, of late so lovely
and tranquil. The heart of the young commander-in-chief
was deeply moved by these ills, and his
emotion was not diminished by the thought that
he could not entirely avert them. His despatches
at this time are written in a strain of sadness and
eloquence, to which nothing but profound feeling
could have urged him; and they present him to
us as an ardent lover of his country and of his
species.[441]

(1757.) Under his direction, and with the aid of
Lord Fairfax, the proprietor of the Northern Neck,
who was county lieutenant of Frederick, a strong
fort was built at Winchester, and stockades were
erected at various points, in which the inhabitants
took refuge when attacked, and where a military
force always kept guard. The General Assembly
had formed an extensive scheme for a cordon of
forts running along the whole line of the Alleghanies,
from the Potomac River to the boundary of
North Carolina; but Washington did not approve

of this design. It was very expensive, and afforded
no adequate protection, for the forts would of
necessity be far removed from each other, and the
savages might pass unmolested between them.
Yet he obeyed instructions, and had drawn a plan
for twenty-three forts along the mountain ranges.
He was indefatigable in his exertions, and at the
hazard of his life he visited the western and
southern frontier to provide for its safety.[442] Already
he appears in a character which was afterwards
fully developed in the most self-sacrificing
patriotism the world has ever seen.

Lord Loudon had been appointed commander-in-chief
of the British forces in America in the
place of Governor Shirley, and in honour of him
the fort at Winchester received his name. Although
Virginia had heard of his appointment
with pleasure, and though one of her finest counties
will perpetuate his memory within her borders,
yet in common with other colonies, she soon learned
that her admiration had been premature. With
much conceit and with little knowledge, imperious
in manner, yet undignified in action, his lordship
ruled in America only long enough to render himself
contemptible in the two worlds, the old and
the new. That he was no general, may be inferred
from the fact, that small success and many reverses
attended his military operations; that he was habitually
dishonest, is declared with emphasis in his
mean insinuation that Benjamin Franklin had

amassed money by peculation upon the funds in
his charge as post-master-general of the colonies.[443]
Loudon could not believe that a receiving and disbursing
agent of government could resist temptation.
Bankrupt in principle himself, he had no
sympathies in common with an honest man.

His lordship established his head-quarters at
Philadelphia, where a military convention assembled
in March to consider the best mode of
conducting the war. Washington attended, and
was received with marked respect. He had drawn
up an address to Loudon, in which he gave a brief
history of the cause of hostilities since their commencement
in Virginia, and with the strength and
clearness of a mind perfectly acquainted with its
subject, he presented a plan for future operations.
He strenuously advised an attack on Fort Duquesne.
Had this counsel prevailed, and had a
sufficient force been given to Washington, he
would have driven the savages from the frontiers,
have captured the French fortress, and have
broken the enemy's power on the Ohio, in a single
campaign. But discouraging delays were yet to
prevail. It was determined that the principal attack
should be on the lakes and the Canadian borders,
and that in the mean time Virginia must be
left to her own resources.[444]

(1758, January.) Early in the succeeding year,
Governor Dinwiddie left Virginia to return to

England, where he intended in future permanently
to reside. The Assembly said nothing, but the
Council and the municipal authorities of Williamsburg
took upon themselves the duty of delivering
an address to the Governor, expressing "esteem
and respect."[445] His departure was regretted by
few. His activity had seldom been well directed;
his zeal had been generally without knowledge.
If he had detected fraud in his superiors in the
West Indies, he was himself justly charged with
extortion, in exacting a pistole for issuing each patent
for land. So unjust was this demand, that
the Assembly protested against it in solemn form,
and one of Virginia's most gifted sons pleaded the
wrong before the King in council.[446]
It is not to
the credit of Dinwiddie that his interest was sufficient
to overpower the colony, and that this iniquitous
claim was confirmed by the King. In another
affair, his character was lost beyond redemption.
Twenty thousand pounds had been appropriated
by England to repay to Virginia her advances for
the public service. Dinwiddie received this fund,
and never accounted for its expenditure. He has
been openly accused of having diverted it to his
private use; and this charge has never been answered,
either by himself, or by others in his behalf.[447] Until it is refuted, its stain will rest upon
his memory.

John Blair, the President of the Council, succeeded
to the government in the colony. He was
active and decided in his measures, and under his
auspices public affairs were skilfully administered.
Eight hundred men were ordered into service by
direction of Lord Loudon. An Assembly was convened,
which embraced many of the ablest men
Virginia has ever produced. We read their names
with reverence, and already find among them the
magnanimous supporters of American freedom in
a struggle not yet commenced.[448] The Governor
delivered to them a spirited address, urging the
pressure of the war, and asking their aid, which
was promised, in terms not less marked by patriotism
than by prudence and foresight. When Francis
Fauquier arrived from England, in June, and
assumed the reins of government, he found a people
and an Assembly equally willing to uphold his
hands in each measure required for the safety and
honour of his charge.

At the same time a most auspicious change had
taken place in the ministerial rule of the mother
country. William Pitt could no longer be kept
from the place to which his own great genius, and
the love of his countrymen, united to raise him.
The moment his mighty hand grasped the helm,

it seemed as though the heavens began to brighten
and the storms to lose their power. He infused
vigour and confidence into every department of
government, and seized, with intuitive readiness,
upon the best means for securing the noblest objects.
He had long believed that Europe was not
the field in which the strife between France and
England was to be decided,[449] and when he attained
to power, he took prompt measures for directing a
formidable force against the strongholds of the
enemy in America. Unwonted animation every
where prevailed, and it was soon manifest that the
next campaign would produce results of the highest
moment.

An attack on Fort Duquesne was the duty assigned
to the southern division of the English
forces; and General Forbes commenced a march
from Philadelphia, for the execution of this purpose.
Colonel Bouquet, with a strong advanced
guard of two thousand men, was sent to Raystown,
in Pennsylvania, about thirty miles from Wills'
Creek, and in a short time Washington received
the cheering order to march at the head of the Virginia
troops from Winchester, and arrive as early
as possible at Fort Cumberland. The Assembly
acted with great promptness on General Forbes's
requisitions. Money was voted, bounties were offered
for enlistment, and in a short time two regiments
were raised; one commanded by Colonel
Byrd, and the other by Washington in person,

who was commander-in-chief of the whole colonial
force.[450] In consequence of severe indisposition,
General Forbes did not reach Raystown until the
middle of September.[451] Here Washington learned,
with surprise, that the commander was yet in
doubt whether to approach Fort Duquesne by the
old and well-known route, known as "Braddock's
Road," or to try a new road, leading more directly
from Raystown, and that he seemed inclined to
prefer the latter. He used every argument that he
could devise, to determine General Forbes in favour
of Braddock's Road. It had been carefully
prepared; it lay through a country where forage
was abundant, and though it crossed mountains
and defiles of formidable character, yet the former
passage of an army had, in great measure, overcome
these obstacles. The new route was liable
to all the objections to the first, and it added to
them the disadvantages of continuous forests, of
roads yet to be prepared, and of unknown localities.
Notwithstanding all his remonstrances, Forbes resolved
in favour of the road from Raystown. It is
not easy now to decide whether his judgment was
founded in wisdom, or whether it was the result
rather of his strong desire to please the people of
Pennsylvania. It is certain that Washington's
predictions of delay were fulfilled, and that nothing
but accident gave final success to the expedition.[452]

Without further debate, the new road was cut to
Loyal Hanna, a point forty-five miles from Raystown,
where a fort was erected, and where Colonel
Bouquet took post with his efficient vanguard. It
had saved one farther scene of death had the whole
army now advanced. Eight thousand men, in fine
order, and warned by the disasters of Braddock,
would have surrounded Fort Duquesne and compelled
a capitulation ere it could have been relieved
by forces from the Lakes. But a bloodless victory
was not awarded. From Loyal Hanna, Major
Grant, with a chosen company of eight hundred
men, was despatched to reconnoitre the fort and
obtain information as to the best mode of attack.
(Sept. 24.) In the night he gained a hill near the
fork of the two rivers; and detaching Major Lewis
with a rear-guard, he advanced near the fortress,
and sounded a morning "reveille," as though with
express design to draw the enemy upon him.[453]
Profound silence had reigned in and around the
point; not a voice had broken it, not a leaf had
been stirred, and Grant seemed rashly to hope
that a triumph awaited him. But at the first
sound of the drum, the gates of the fort were opened,
and, with terrific war-cries, a hive of savage

warriors poured out upon the invaders. Ere the
men could draw their rifles to their shoulders, the
foe was upon them, and strokes of the deadly tomahawk
were felling them to the ground. The assault
was so sudden and violent, that the English
forces seem to have lost the power of resistance, and
instead of a conflict, the view was speedily one of
ferocious butchery. Every blow was fatal. No quarter
was given by the savages. French soldiers had
followed them from the fort, and to them alone did
the few prisoners who survived owe their safety.
Major Grant was attacked by an Indian armed
with a tomahawk already reeking with blood, and
would have been killed, had not a French officer
arrested the blow and taken him captive. At the
first sound of battle, Major Lewis had hastened
forward with his company, leaving a guard of fifty
Virginians, under Captain Bullet, to protect the
baggage. But this accession could not turn the
tide of victory. The gallant Lewis was himself
surrounded by foes, and after striking one dead to
his feet, he saved his life by reaching a detachment
of French, to whom he surrendered himself
a prisoner of war.[454]

A deed of heroic courage and of consummate
skill, preserved the remains of the army. When
Captain Bullet saw the course of the combat and the
approach of the savages, he formed his plan, and imparted
it to his companions. Stratagem in war has
received the direct sanction of a Divine lawgiver;[455]

and if ever stratagem was justifiable, it was in the
case we are now to record. The Indians advanced
in a tumultuous band, eager for fresh victims.
With muskets heavily loaded, the Virginians presented
themselves, and, lowering their arms, made
signs of submission, and approached the foe. Already
hatchets were raised to meet them with death;
when Bullet, in a voice of thunder, commanded his
men to "charge;" and, instantly levelling their
guns, the Virginians poured upon the savages a fire
at eight yards' distance, which swept down many
of their numbers. A furious rush with presented
bayonets followed this fire; the savages gave way
on every side; and believing that a strong reinforcement
was at hand, they did not cease their flight
until they reached the main body of the French
near Fort Duquesne.[456] Hastily collecting the remnant
of the army, Bullet directed a retreat; and
after a march of infinite hazard and fatigue, he rejoined
the main body at the camp at Loyal Hanna.

It would be difficult to find in history the record
of a more brilliant achievement than that of Bullet,
or of one more worthy of the approval of the brave
and the honourable. Governor Fauquier promoted
the hero to the rank of major, and ever afterwards
spoke of his conduct in terms of warm admiration.
He had saved the larger part of the army under
Grant, yet their loss had been severe. Nineteen
officers were killed or captured. Two hundred

and seventy-three privates were killed, and forty-two
were wounded. Few survived as prisoners.
Indian warfare seldom offers any prospect other
than that of victory or death.

The main army, under General Forbes, advanced
from Loyal Hanna, over a road hastily constructed,
and nearly impassable. Mountains and defiles,
streams and forests, alike opposed their progress;
and the melancholy fate of prior armies warned
them to move with ceaseless caution. The provincial
troops were employed in the appropriate
duty of ranging; and Washington, at the head of
his Virginians, gained daily in the esteem of the
commander-in-chief by his vigilance and success.
A singular collision occurred near Loyal Hanna,
in which friends turned upon each other the weapons
intended for the savages. Washington had
attacked and defeated a body of Indians, of whom
he made several prisoners. Colonel Mercer, of the
second Virginia regiment, approached during the
night, and, seeing the Indian captives, mistook the
party for enemies, and ordered his men to fire.
Ere the mistake was discovered, several volleys
had been exchanged, and fourteen men were killed
or wounded.[457]

As the army drew near to Fort Duquesne, sad
vestiges of previous conflict on all sides met their
eyes. Whitening bones strewed the forest where
the battle of the Monongahela had raged, and often
a ghastly skeleton recalled to the soldier the thought
that many whom he had known had fallen here.

Nearer to the fort, the unburied bodies of the victims
who had fell in Major Grant's defeat, were
exposed to view. Savage cupidity had in many
cases despoiled them, and savage malice had exhausted
itself in mutilating the defenceless dead.[458]
Already dispirited by a laborious march through
the wilderness, the English troops were but too
well prepared to yield to the depressing influences
of such recollections, and had stern resistance been
made to their approach, it would probably have
resulted in success.

But an easy victory awaited them. The Indians
had taken alarm at the advance of a large force,
attended with all precaution. Supplies had not
reached them from Fort Frontenac, for already
that post had yielded to the British arms.[459] One
by one, the warriors withdrew, believing that the
Great Spirit had deserted their French allies, and
that defeat and disaster would soon arrive. Finding
that resistance would be vain, cut off from all
prospect of aid, and menaced by a greatly superior
force, the French, now reduced in numbers to five
hundred men, set fire to the fort in every part in
which it was combustible, and proceeded down the
Ohio in order to gain their posts at Presque Isle
and Venango. (Nov. 25.) A mine, prepared ere they
left the fortress, exploded as the English drew near,
and before the burning fragments had been extinguished,
Colonel Washington entered the wall at

the head of the advanced guard, and planted the
British standard upon this long-contested ground.[460]
Immediately repairs were commenced, a garrison
of provincials was assigned for its custody, and the
name of Fort Pitt paid a well-earned tribute to the
genius of the great man, to whose vigilance and
energy his country owed this important conquest.

To the triumph of bloodless victory succeeded
the sadness impressed by the discharge of a melancholy
duty. The General and the army were alike
moved with desire to collect the mouldering remains
of those who fell in Braddock's defeat, and
consign them to a soldier's grave. Guided by Indians
who had deserted from the French, and many
of whom had been actors in the tragedy of the
Monongahela, a chosen number of provincial
troops entered the forest and approached the field
of battle. It is not difficult to believe all that an
eye-witness has related of the solemn interest of
this scene. In profound silence they trod the
withered leaves, which were already falling before
the blasts of winter; around them on every side
were the bleaching bones of men who had left the
soil of Britain to die amid the forests of America.
Wild beasts had already visited the field, and many
fearful signs gave proof of their ravages. Among

the visiters who felt most keenly the emotions excited
by this valley of death, was Major Halket,
who had mourned the loss of a father and a brother,
both slain in the conflict. An Indian guide
had told him of the fall of a veteran officer and of
the death of the heroic young subaltern, who had
sunk across the body of the first as he stooped to
his assistance. Now a thrilling discovery was to
be made. Two bodies were found, the one lying
upon the other; when the uppermost was removed,
Major Halket drew near, and with feelings that
would baffle description, examined the other body.
A false tooth for which he sought, instantly
revealed the dead. With a single cry, "It is my
father!" he fell back into the arms of his companions.[461]

Gathering together the remains of each victim
that could be found, the soldiers proceeded to commit
them to one common tomb. The hearts of all
who participated in this solemnity were bowed with
awe and sorrow. Even the Indian warriors looked
on in profound stillness, regarding the service as a
religious observance to which they owed silent
veneration. The genius of one who has described
it, has detected in this scene a resemblance to the
discovery made by the army of Germanicus amid
the forests of Europe; but the mouldering remains
of a whole Roman legion, who fell when the light
of Divine truth had not yet gilded the tomb, could

not excite in the bosoms of their comrades the
awful interest felt by the few who now gave Christian
burial to the slain of the Monongahela.[462]

With the fall of Fort Duquesne ended the war
between France and England, as far as it could be
waged on the frontiers of Virginia. General Forbes
returned with his army to winter quarters in Philadelphia,
and a short time after his arrival, worn
down with fatigue and suffering, he expired.[463]
George Washington retired to Mount Vernon,
nor did he again draw his sword, until it was unsheathed
to make war, in defence of liberty, upon
the very nation whose honour he had often nobly
upheld. But though Virginia was no longer the
theatre of actual conflict, she looked with absorbing
interest upon the progress of war in the northern
colonies, knowing that she could not escape the
conflagration unless it was there arrested.

It would not be proper to trace, with minuteness,
the course of the memorable campaigns of 1758
and 59. They belong to American history, and

will never be forgotten; but they have only an indirect
bearing upon the fate of the Old Dominion.
Again an expedition was prepared against Cape
Breton and Louisbourg, and the prize which had
been so lightly yielded was reconquered by England,
to be surrendered no more. Abercrombie
crossed the placid bosom of Lake George, with a
glittering array of soldiery; but his incompetence
was soon apparent, and nothing but the capture of
Fort Frontenac by Colonel Bradstreet, the able
subaltern of a feeble commander, could have atoned
for the disgrace of the British arms. (1759.) In
the succeeding year, intense activity pervaded the
forces intended to operate in America. A great
soul in the mother country directed their movements,
and inspired them with one common purpose.
Amherst marched against Ticonderoga and
Crown Point, and reduced them successively under
his control. Prideaux embarked upon Lake Ontario,
and attacked the French fortress at Niagara. He
fell a martyr to his zeal, but he had done enough
to insure success, and his brave troops completed
the triumph they would willingly have shared
with himself. And the young General who ascended
the Heights of Abraham, added the crowning
stone to the column of English victory in
America. Wolfe and Montcalm both fell upon the
field of battle, but the one in death could rejoice in
view of his country's triumph, and the other could
only breathe the wish of a hero, that he might not
see the fall of the glory of France upon the American
continent.[464]

Every where England was victorious. On sea
and on land, among the isles of the western world
and in the East India domain, in the Mediterranean
and on the frontiers of Canada, she enjoyed a
continued course of success and conquest. Spain
was humbled, and France desired peace. William
Pitt had retired from the direction of public affairs
in his country; but the result of his measures now
appeared, and England, as she has too often done,
gained the benefit of labour for which she had then
bestowed but meagre gratitude. Noble commissioners
from the two rival kingdoms met at Fontainebleau
in 1762, and agreed upon the articles of
a treaty, which was definitively concluded at Paris
early in the following year. (1763, February 10.)
If Aix-la-Chapelle had brought dishonour to Britain,
the Treaty of Paris more than atoned. She
gained a full title to Nova Scotia and Canada, to
Cape Breton and Louisbourg, to the St. Lawrence
and all its adjoining islands. She divided the
Mississippi with her rival by a line running down
its middle through the lakes Maurepas and Pontchartrain.
She resigned Havana to Spain, but
received in return the beautiful region known as
the Floridas, with the town of St. Augustine and
the port of Pensacola. Avarice might have been
sated with her gains, and ambition content with
her glory.

Thus the civilized world was once more at
peace. Virginia partook of the common blessing,
and made it the source of other advantages. Her
population had rapidly increased, and notwithstanding

the late war, her progress had been onward.
If she had not grown evenly with some of
her sisters of the North, she had at least not fallen
far beneath them. Her hand was watched to point
the way to future greatness. Already principles
had found advocates upon her soil, which were
destined to diffuse themselves throughout the
western world, and to teach man that he was born
for higher destinies than any which had yet befallen
him. She was not yet aware of the struggle
that was approaching, and in which she was
to fill so conspicuous a part; but changes were in
progress within her own bosom, which were silently
preparing her for the decisive hour. Her
infancy, her childhood, even her youth had passed
away; and as the impulses of maturity began to
manifest themselves, she slowly learned from them
the high duties to which she was summoned.
Upon her history, for a season, the curtain must
now fall; but when it shall rise again, it will be to
present her raising the voice of eloquence, wielding
the pen of learning, and shedding the blood
of self-sacrifice in the sacred cause of a nation's
liberty.