At this time, as I said, I was with General Braddock on the upper
bottom. I considered that between the place where the three hundred
men of the advance were entering the thicker woods, and the ford,
might have been about six hundred perches. I took out my watch and saw
that it was ten minutes to two, the rear being yet crossing or in the
river. As I turned to look forward, heavy firing broke out far away in
the woods and among the rocks and bushes. I knew too well the Indian
yells. Very soon I could see men falling and others dropping back. Orme
rode forward to get some account for the general. In a few minutes he
returned, badly wounded in the left arm. Sir John still advancing, the
general ordered Colonel Burton, of the main van, forward with eight
hundred men. There was now thick smoke about the advance on the edge of
the deeper wood, and amid yells and cries the whole of what was left of
the pioneers and their guard fell back out of the woods, at first a
few, and then many, and down the upper slope, somewhat disordering Sir
John’s supporting party.
Sir Peter Halket was told to remain with four hundred men as a
baggage-guard, and the general rode forward himself with Colonel
Burton’s eight hundred men, ordering a bayonet charge of a party up the
hill on our right, whence came so hot a fire from unseen enemies that
the officers were at once killed, and the men fell back at a run.
For some time Sir John’s force behaved with great courage and let the
broken pioneers pass through their lines, but could never be got to
go farther, and stood stupidly firing into the wood. At last, as the
officers fell, the advance became more broken and began to retreat
slowly, but at last running, until they were mixed up with Colonel
Burton’s reinforcement.
I never saw in my later warfare worse confusion nor a hotter fire, nor
men better hid, for the savages and French lay in the ravines among the
brush and picked off the mounted officers, or fired into the masses of
men with no need to take accurate aim.
More and more the rear was forced forward to support the retreating
troops; but as none of them could see any enemy and were falling
every moment from the fire, a general panic took place among the men,
from which no exertion on the part of the officers could recover
them. In the early part of the action some of the irregulars, as they
were called, without directions, advanced to the right, in loose
order, to attack; but this, unhappily, from the unusual appearance of
the movement, being mistaken for cowardice and a running away, was
discountenanced.
It is my opinion that even then if the general had remained on the
cleared ground below and there rallied the men, where was open space
and on the sides little cover, the day might have been saved, as the
small French and Indian force would never have left the woods. He,
however, pushed on in person, urging an advance, and sent Captain
Morris to order up Sir Peter Halket and the rear-guard. We were now
caught on both sides among ravines, great rocks, and trees, where on
our front and on both flanks the enemy spread out in the woods. The
more of our force came up from the rear, the easier was the slaughter.
At this time, when it was not yet too late, amid the confusion which
became more and more general, I made an offer to head the provincials
and engage the enemy in their own way; but the general would not listen
or perhaps did not hear, for the noise was great. At all events, the
propriety of it was not seen until it was too late for execution.
Whether he heard me or not, I cannot say. What with our regulars
shooting at random, the replies from the ravines and woods, the orders
of officers, the yells of the Indians, and the cries of the wounded,
there was a confusedness fit to turn any man’s head. When the soldiers
tried to take wood shelter, as was proper and reasonable, the general
and their officers cursed them for cowards and struck them with the
flat of their swords. The poor dogs tried to obey their leaders,
and again and again formed into platoons, facing to left or right,
thus making them only the easier to kill. I saw Captain Orme of the
artillery fall dead as they rode up with the cannon, and the engineer,
Captain Henry Gordon, dropped wounded, but got up and did, I believe,
succeed to reach the ford.
The men with the swivels stood to it well in giving some shots, and
then gave way, most of them tumbling almost in heaps. Seeing this, I
dismounted with two other officers, and made a man hold my horse, and
aided to fire into the ravine on the right; but the few men left who
should have helped to serve the piece soon dropped, hurt or dead, and
seeing I could no further assist, I mounted again and turned out of
the broken ranks to encourage the Virginia rangers, who were running
up without orders and spreading out to right and left, taking shelter
wherever was a tree or rock, all most gallant and well done. Although
the turmoil was such as I cannot describe, there were many brave
efforts to rally and to carry the high ground above our right. All this
lasted fully an hour or more, for at times, discipline prevailing,
orders were given to storm the flanking slopes, and constantly failed
to be effectual, for, as the officers were picked off, the men ran back
to the main body.
The smoke was by this time so thick as somewhat to obscure all things
at a distance, but a sudden wind, arising, cleared it away, and I saw
that we were giving way more and more, the whole body of the force
moving slowly down the slope. As I looked about me in despair, my
horse fell and rolled over dead. By good fortune I had learned in
fox-hunting how to fall clear. In a moment I was up, and saw that
the troops were scattered in detachments and firing at random, or
vainly trying in groups to follow their officers, who were shot down
mercilessly. I saw Captain Shirley, the general’s secretary, fall dead.
He was quite close to me, and amidst all this tumult his horse stood
still, and, to my amazement, began to eat the grass. I caught the beast
and mounted. I hardly knew what to do. The Virginians were being shot
by the regulars, who knew no more than to fire wherever they saw smoke
from behind a tree or bush. As to orders, there were at this time none,
and, indeed, until just above the river, no sufficient space to move in
without taking to the woods.
I tried to help the general and the few left of the officers in their
efforts to effect an orderly retreat. I have heard that five horses
were shot under him. This I was told by Captain Morris, and it is
no doubt true, for the horse is a large object and easy to hit. Few
officers were left alive, and those who were unhurt could not get the
regulars to obey a command. What was left of twelve hundred men were
huddled together in groups in and out of the woods, as I have seen
sheep in a storm.
The general showed great courage, and made many efforts in person to
rally the men or get them to retreat in an orderly way. He was carried
down the slope with the rout, but remained as obstinate as ever as to
the way of fighting, insisting on the men re-forming. Sir Peter Halket,
Morris, and I vainly entreated him to order the soldiers to take
shelter as the rangers did. As Sir Peter spoke, he dropped dead. His
son, the captain, dismounted to help him, and fell dead on his father’s
body.
I have never seen a man who could describe what took place in the midst
of a battle, nor can I pretend to greater accuracy. I remember that
after two hours or more I became suddenly sure that all was lost. The
whole disordered mass now broke and ran as sheep before hounds, leaving
artillery, provisions, baggage, and the wounded and dying――in short,
everything. When finally a dozen gallant officers threw themselves
in front, they were knocked down and trampled on. We had as little
success as if we had attempted to stop the wild bears of the mountains,
or torrents, with our feet. It was quite useless.
At this time General Braddock was under a great oak near to where we
left the waggons. I was beside him and heard him cry out, “They have
got me.” Captain Stewart, of the Virginia light guard, caught him as
he reeled in the saddle, shot through the right arm and lung. The men
ran past us, refusing to help; but another officer aiding, we somehow
got him on to a small covered cart, and he was carried along in what
was now a mad flight to get to the ford. I heard him cry out: “Let me
alone. Let me die here.”
The waggoners in our rear near the ford cut loose the traces and
mounted their horses and fled. In spite of the great courage shown by
the officers, who in camp were drunken or seemed to be effeminate or
lazy, all who were of mind to resist were swept away by a mere mob of
panic-struck men. Men caught on to my stirrups, and even the horse’s
mane, but somehow I got free and out again to one side. Instantly my
second horse staggered and went down. I saw Dr. Craik, near by, with
the utmost devotion, although himself wounded, helping a disabled
officer to walk away. I was now afoot, and, as I saw how complete was
the rout, I began to fear that our brave Virginians would none of them
escape. They held the fringe of the woods with wonderful courage, using
their rifles, and keeping back the French and Indians. Nothing else
saved the troops of his Majesty from complete massacre.
As I stood still a moment I heard Croghan call loudly to me to take to
cover. I took his advice, and God alone knows how I escaped death. I
had four balls through my clothes.
The leaders of the rangers now saw how great was their peril. The
regulars were by this time near the ford, in the river, or across and
far beyond it. A few brave men in groups were retreating slowly, firing
useless shots. The enemy, yelling in triumph, were crawling or leaping
nearer from time to time. Now and then a painted savage ran out from
cover and fled back, shaking a bloody scalp.
The rangers had lost heavily, but those who were left slipped from one
shelter to another, and at last, when there was little cover left, ran
down to the river, and I with them. Few would have got away except for
the desire of the Indians to plunder the dead and the baggage and to
collect scalps, and that the French were too few in number to venture
on pursuit.
I got over the ford in haste, and standing still on the rise of ground
beyond the river, looked at my watch. I could hardly believe it to
be, as I saw, five o’clock. Most of those who were unhurt were now
safe, and with Captain Croghan I began to gather the wreck of our poor
rangers. One company was almost all gone; another lost every officer
and many men. As to the regulars, seven hundred, nearly half of the
force, were dead or wounded. A part of what was left of this fine army
was soon scattered beyond the two fords, and later was starved in the
woods or got at last into the camps.
About a hundred men were gathered by the officers a quarter of a mile
beyond our first ford. Lieutenant-Colonel Burton rallied some hundreds
of men, and later about eighty, under Colonel Gage, joined them. To my
relief, and greatly to my surprise, there was no pursuit. We pushed on
with the wounded general, and at last, as night fell, camped in much
discomfort.