I find my diaries insufficient as to the events which preceded the
battle on the Monongahela, where, in Braddock’s rout, I lost almost all
my papers, with my plans and maps, chiefly copies of those I had given
the general. This I now regret more than I did at the time when my
memory served me better. Finding, as I have noted before, that to write
of events recalls particulars, I shall endeavour thus to revive my
personal remembrances, but not to record at length the entire history
of the defeat of General Braddock.
I do not suppose that any land was ever worse governed than Virginia
was under Dinwiddie, and as to military affairs worst of all, but not
worse than other colonies. The governors were ignorant of warfare and
expected too much from the half-trained militia and their careless
officers. These conditions may have seemed to justify the King’s order
that all officers holding militia appointments should be outranked by
all royal commissions, and even by the King’s officers on half-pay.
This was bad enough, but there were also Independent companies raised
in time of need; and their officers, being directly commissioned by
the governors acting for the King, insisted on their right to outrank
gentlemen of the militia, and led the men in their commands to disobey
such officers and to consider themselves of a class superiour to the
militia. I had already had so sad an experience of the difficulties
which arose out of these conditions that I was unwilling to submit
to Governor Dinwiddie’s plan of making all the militia Independent
companies and with only captains in command. The object to be attained
by this awkward expedient was to put a stop to the constant disputes
as to precedency and command. As this would reduce me from colonel
to captain, I made it clear to the governor that it was not, in my
opinion, a step to be advised, but I would consider of it, which,
indeed, took me no long time.
In November I resigned my commission, and before it was accepted went
to Alexandria, where my regiment then lay. I asked the officers
to meet me and explained the cause of my being forced to resign. I
was surprised to find that my resolution, which all admitted to be
reasonable, met with the most flattering opposition. Indeed, I received
soon after a letter from these gentlemen in which, with much more, they
said:
We, your obedient and affectionate officers, beg leave to
express our great concern at the marked disagreeable news we
have received of your determination to resign the command of
the corps. Your steady adherence to impartial justice, your
quick discernment and invariable regard to merit, enlivened our
natural emulation to excel.
As this letter lies before me and I think of the emotion it caused me,
I still like to remember that at the close they spoke of me as “one
who taught them to despise danger and to think lightly of toil and
hardships while led by a man they knew and loved.”
I have been spoken of as wanting in sensibility. If it had been said
I lacked means to show what I feel, that were to put the matter more
correctly. Even now the recollection of the praise thus given moves me
deeply, and recalls the memory of my farewell to those who served with
me in the War of Independency. I was but twenty-three when I left the
colonial service.
I did so with much reluctance, for my desire was not to leave the
military line, as my inclinations were still strongly bent to arms, and
of this I assured Colonel Fitzhugh very plainly when he would have had
me submit to return to service in the inferiour grade of captain. I
preferred my farm to submitting to this degradation.
Among the minor matters which, by degrees, discontented even the most
loyal of the upper class of Virginia gentlemen, none was more ill borne
than the impertinence and insults to which this order of the King gave
rise.
Having thus, with much regret, resigned my commission, I retired
to private life at Mount Vernon and to the care of my neglected
plantations.
As we had left two hostages, Van Braam and Stobo, in the hands of the
French after my defeat at the Meadows, I was anxious that La Force
and the French officers we held should be treated with decency and
exchanged for my two captains.
In spite of my earnest remonstrances, Drouillon and two cadets were
alone offered for exchange, and La Force held in prison, which, of
course, the French refused to consider. My wishes were disregarded
in this matter in which I considered my honour was involved, and I
was treated with the indifference the governor so often showed to the
advice of colonial gentlemen of consideration. I was deeply mortified,
and La Force was at least two years in jail, nor do I know what became
of him. In retaliation, Van Braam and Stobo were long detained in
prison by the French at Quebec, but finally got away, I do not know
how. Captain Stobo, a Scotchman, I believe, was a sober, brave, and
sensible man. That he was ingenious and little subject to fear appears
from the fact that, while imprisoned at Fort Duquesne, he contrived a
plan of the fort, and also to send it to the governor by an Indian. Had
he been detected it must have cost his life.
After the fall of Quebec in 1759, I was informed by an officer that
Captain Stobo made his escape before that event, and had been able to
join his Majesty’s troops, and finally had guided General Wolfe on the
path by which he succeeded to occupy the Plains of Abraham. I do not
know what truth there was in the story.
While time ran on and I was busy with the innocent pursuits of
agriculture, England and France were preparing for serious warfare, and
as I heard of the efforts to be made to recover the Ohio and the forts
at the North, I became troubled that I was to have no share in the
business. Sir John St. Clair had come out in this year (1755) as deputy
quartermaster-general, and was at once much disgusted at colonial
inefficiency, and expressed himself with such freedom as gave great
offence. Five weeks later, in February, I believe, General Braddock
reached Williamsburg, where I then chanced to be on business concerning
the purchase of bills on London. On this occasion I once more appealed
to the authorities concerning Stobo and Van Braam; but although I spent
some time in efforts to persuade Governor Dinwiddie that to further
hold La Force was to prevent the release of two brave and innocent men,
he persistently refused. Upon this I went away, declining to discuss
other matters on which he would have had my opinion.
While at Williamsburg, Colonel Peyton invited me to visit Sir John St.
Clair, to whom I was able to express my regret that the conditions of
the King’s late order as to rank must deprive me and other colonial
gentlemen of the pleasure of serving. Sir John said that he was
surprised to encounter so much sensitiveness among us. To this I made
no reply, but Colonel Byrd, who was present, said if Sir John would
in his mind reverse our positions he would find the matter to explain
itself. Sir John said that he could not imagine himself a provincial
captain of border farm-hands.
Upon this Colonel Byrd rose and said there was also something which
he could not imagine Sir John to be. Seeing a quarrel close at hand,
a thing very undesirable when already we were on edge owing to the
affectation of superiority on the part of some of Sir John’s aides, I
was fortunate enough to say that Colonel Byrd no doubt misunderstood
Sir John, and that I never had been able to put myself in another
man’s place. Sir John, who had spoken hastily, was also of no mind to
provoke a gentleman of Colonel Byrd’s influence, and said at once that
he had no intention to offend, and thus the matter ended.
It was, however, this kind of thing which made so much bad blood in the
colonies and was so deeply resented by men of all classes.
In the afternoon I met Colonel Byrd, who said I had spoiled a good
quarrel and that he considered it would be necessary to teach some of
the officers a lesson in manners. I said I hoped that at this crisis it
might be avoided. I had quite forgot this incident, and am agreeably
surprised, now that my memory is failing, at recovering by attention so
many things which seemed lost.
On the following morning Sir John called upon me and asked would I dine
with him that day, to meet General Braddock, whom, on his arrival,
I had welcomed in a letter expressing my regret at being out of the
service.
I was glad to meet the new commander, and at Sir John’s request named
several gentlemen who should have the same honour, and who might be
of great use in the campaign. On this occasion there was less heavy
drinking than usual, and I was very agreeably entertained and much
questioned as to the border. I promised to send my maps to the general,
who, upon my taking leave, hoped some way might be found to secure my
services in the coming campaign.
Indeed, I was more eager than the general, and, as occasion served,
I was still more open with some of the younger members of General
Braddock’s family concerning my continued desire to follow the military
line.
I rode homeward a day or two later, taking Fredericksburg on the way,
that I might see my mother. I found her in the garden of her house,
engaged in putting some plants in the ground.
She said she was pleased to see me, but did hardly look up from her
work and went on talking of the family. I was of no mind to stop her,
and, indeed, it was always best to let her have her say; nor did I now
interrupt her, which out of respect I never inclined to do.
My sister Betty Lewis, having more desire to talk than I ever had,
could never hear my mother out, and this I did not approve, nor did it
do any good.
While I was listening came a servant with a letter inclosed in a cover
with a flying seal of Captain Orme’s arms. The letter within carried
the royal arms and “On his Majesty’s service with speed,” wrote large.
It appeared that when I had gone, the general’s aide, Captain Orme,
requested Colonel Peyton to forward to me this communication, and
accordingly he had sent it after me as desired. I excused myself and
read it with pleasure.
My mother, being curious as to small things, and as to large ones too
often indifferent, asked me what it was, and was eager to know why it
bore the King’s arms. I saw no better way than to let her read it.
She gave it back to me, saying, “I suppose my opinions about this
business of war are never to be regarded,” and more besides than I
desire to recall. I replied that there was only one answer a man of
honour and a loyal subject of the King could make, and that I should at
once accept if time were given me to set in order my affairs; and so,
with this, after much advice on her part that my duty lay at home and
on my plantation, I got away, avoiding to say more, my mind being fully
made up. I find the letter now among my papers, and reading it in my
old age, renew the memory of the satisfaction it gave me when young.
_Williamsburg, March 2, 1755._
SIR: The General, having been informed by friends that you
expressed some desire to make the campaign, but that you
declined it upon some disagreeableness that you thought might
arise from the regulations of command, has ordered me to
acquaint you that he will be very glad of your company in
his family, by which all inconveniences of that kind will be
obviated.
I shall think myself very happy to form an acquaintance with a
person so universally esteemed, and shall use every opportunity
of assuring you how much I am
Your obedient servant,
_Robert Orme_,
Aide-de-camp.
I have no doubt that Colonel Peyton was the gentleman who, knowing my
wishes, had suggested my appointment. I was considered by some to have
been imprudent at Fort Necessity, and the governor, because of the
freedom of speech I used with him in the matter of Stobo and La Force,
had for me no great regard, and was very unlikely to have favoured me
with the general.
Before leaving Williamsburg, Mr. C――――, a cousin of Colonel Peyton,
visited me and said he had been well advised to seek my friendship in
a letter from the colonel, which he thought might please me and which
I was free to read. As to my appearance, wit, and judgment, the letter
spoke in the most agreeable language, and added that I was destined to
make no inconsiderable figure in our country. I confess to having felt,
as I read it, both pleasure and doubt.