MARCH FROM FORT CUMBERLAND--THE GREAT SAVAGE MOUNTAIN--CAMP AT THE LITTLE
MEADOWS--DIVISION OF THE FORCES--CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS BAND--SCAROOYADI IN
DANGER--ILLNESS OF WASHINGTON--HIS HALT AT THE YOUGHIOGENY--MARCH OF
BRADDOCK--THE GREAT MEADOWS--LURKING ENEMIES--THEIR TRACKS--PRECAUTIONS--
THICKETTY RUN--SCOUTS--INDIAN MURDERS--FUNERAL OF AN INDIAN WARRIOR--CAMP
ON THE MONONGAHELA--WASHINGTON'S ARRIVAL THERE--MARCH FOR FORT DUQUESNE--
THE FORDING OF THE MONONGAHELA--THE BATTLE--THE RETREAT--DEATH OF BRADDOCK.
On the 10th of June, Braddock set off from Fort Cumberland with his
aides-de-camp, and others of his staff, and his body guard of light horse.
Sir Peter Halket, with his brigade, had marched three days previously; and
a detachment of six hundred men, under the command of Colonel Chapman, and
the supervision of Sir John St. Clair, had been employed upwards of ten
days in cutting down trees, removing rocks, and opening a road.
The march over the mountains proved, as Washington had foretold, a
"tremendous undertaking." It was with difficulty the heavily laden waggons
could be dragged up the steep and rugged roads, newly made, or imperfectly
repaired. Often they extended for three or four miles in a straggling and
broken line, with the soldiers so dispersed, in guarding them, that an
attack on any side would have thrown the whole in confusion. It was the
dreary region of the great Savage Mountain, and the "Shades of Death" that
was again made to echo with the din of arms.
What outraged Washington's notions of the abstemious frugality suitable to
campaigning in the "backwoods," was the great number of horses and waggons
required by the officers for the transportation of their baggage, camp
equipage, and a thousand articles of artificial necessity. Simple himself
in his tastes and habits, and manfully indifferent to personal indulgences,
he almost doubted whether such sybarites in the camp could be efficient in
the field.
By the time the advanced corps had struggled over two mountains, and
through the intervening forest, and reached (16th June) the Little Meadows,
where Sir John St. Clair had made a temporary camp, General Braddock had
become aware of the difference between campaigning in a new country, or on
the old well beaten battle-grounds of Europe. He now, of his own accord,
turned to Washington for advice, though it must have been a sore trial to
his pride to seek it of so young a man; but he had by this time sufficient
proof of his sagacity, and his knowledge of the frontier.
Thus unexpectedly called on, Washington gave his counsel with becoming
modesty, but with his accustomed clearness. There was just now an
opportunity to strike an effective blow at Fort Duquesne, but it might be
lost by delay. The garrison, according to credible reports, was weak; large
reinforcements and supplies, which were on their way, would be detained by
the drought, which rendered the river by which they must come low and
unnavigable. The blow must be struck before they could arrive. He advised
the general, therefore, to divide his forces; leave one part to come on
with the stores and baggage, and all the cumbrous appurtenances of an army,
and to throw himself in the advance with the other part, composed of his
choicest troops, lightened of every thing superfluous that might impede a
rapid march.
His advice was adopted. Twelve hundred men, selected out of all the
companies, and furnished with ten field-pieces, were to form the first
division, their provisions, and other necessaries, to be carried on
packhorses. The second division, with all the stores, munitions, and heavy
baggage, was to be brought on by Colonel Dunbar.
The least practicable part of the arrangement was with regard to the
officers of the advance. Washington had urged a retrenchment of their
baggage and camp equipage, that as many of their horses as possible might
be used as packhorses. Here was the difficulty. Brought up, many of them,
in fashionable and luxurious life, or the loitering indulgence of country
quarters, they were so encumbered with what they considered indispensable
necessaries, that out of two hundred and twelve horses generally
appropriated to their use, not more than a dozen could be spared by them
for the public service. Washington, in his own case, acted up to the advice
he had given. He retained no more clothing and effects with him than would
about half fill a portmanteau, and gave up his best steed as a
packhorse,--which he never heard of afterwards. [Footnote: Letter to J.
Augustine Washington. Sparks, ii., 81.]
During the halt at the Little Meadows, Captain Jack and his band of forest
rangers, whom Croghan had engaged at Governor Morris's suggestion, made
their appearance in the camp; armed and equipped with rifle, knife,
hunting-shirts, leggings and moccasins, and looking almost like a band of
Indians as they issued from the woods.
The captain asked an interview with the general, by whom, it would seem, he
was not expected. Braddock received him in his tent, in his usual stiff and
stately manner. The "Black Rifle" spoke of himself and his followers as men
inured to hardships, and accustomed to deal with Indians, who preferred
stealth and stratagem to open warfare. He requested his company should be
employed as a reconnoitering party, to beat up the Indians in their
lurking-places and ambuscades.
Braddock, who had a sovereign contempt for the chivalry of the woods, and
despised their boasted strategy, replied to the hero of the Pennsylvania
settlements in a manner to which he had not been accustomed. "There was
time enough," he said, "for making arrangements; and he had experienced
troops, on whom he could completely rely for all purposes."
Captain Jack withdrew, indignant at so haughty a reception, and informed
his leathern-clad followers of his rebuff. They forthwith shouldered their
rifles, turned their backs upon the camp, and, headed by the captain,
departed in Indian file through the woods, for the usual scenes of their
exploits, where men knew their value, the banks of the Juniata or the
Conococheague. [Footnote: On the Conococheague and Juniata is left the
history of their exploits. At one time you may hear of the band near Fort
Augusta, next at Fort Franklin, then at Loudon, then at Juniata,--rapid
were the movements of this hardy band.--_Hazard's Reg. Penn._, iv.,
390; also, v., 194.]
On the 19th of June Braddock's first division set out, with less than
thirty carriages, including those that transported ammunition for the
artillery, all strongly horsed. The Indians marched with the advanced
party. In the course of the day, Scarooyadi and his son being at a small
distance from the line of march, was surrounded and taken by some French
and Indians. His son escaped, and brought intelligence to his warriors;
they hastened to rescue or revenge him, but found him tied to a tree. The
French had been disposed to shoot him, but their savage allies declared
they would abandon them should they do so; having some tie of friendship or
kindred with the chieftain, who thus rejoined the troops unharmed.
Washington was disappointed in his anticipations of a rapid march. The
general, though he had adopted his advice in the main, could not carry it
out in detail. His military education was in the way; bigoted to the
regular and elaborate tactics of Europe, he could not stoop to the
make-shift expedients of a new country, where every difficulty is
encountered and mastered in a rough-and-ready style. "I found," said
Washington, "that instead of pushing on with vigor, without regarding a
little rough road, they were halting to level every mole hill, and to erect
bridges over every brook, by which means we were four days in getting
twelve miles."
For several days Washington had suffered from fever, accompanied by intense
headache, and his illness increased in violence to such a degree that he
was unable to ride, and had to be conveyed for a part of the time in a
covered waggon. His illness continued without intermission until the 23d,
"when I was relieved," says he, "by the general's absolutely ordering the
physician, to give me Dr. James's powders; one of the most excellent
medicines in the world. It gave me immediate relief, and removed my fever
and other complaints in four days' time."
He was still unable to bear the jolting of the waggon, but it needed
another interposition of the kindly-intended authority of General Braddock,
to bring him to a halt at the great crossings of the Youghiogeny. There the
general assigned him a guard, provided him with necessaries, and requested
him to remain, under care of his physician, Dr. Craik, until the arrival of
Colonel Dunbar's detachment, which was two days' march in the rear; giving
him his word of honor that he should, at all events, be enabled to rejoin
the main division before it reached the French fort. [Footnote: Letter to
John Augustine Washington. Sparks, ii., 80.]
This kind solicitude on the part of Braddock, shows the real estimation in
which he was held by that officer. Doctor Craik backed the general's
orders, by declaring that should Washington persevere in his attempts to go
on in the condition he then was, his life would be in danger. Orme also
joined his entreaties, and promised, if he would remain, he would keep him
informed by letter of every occurrence of moment.
Notwithstanding all the kind assurances of Braddock and his aide-de-camp
Orme, it was with gloomy feelings that Washington saw the troops depart;
fearful he might not be able to rejoin them in time for the attack upon the
fort, which, he assured his brother aide-de-camp, he would not miss for
five hundred pounds.
Leaving Washington at the Youghiogeny, we will follow the march of
Braddock. In the course of the first day (June 24th), he came to a deserted
Indian camp; judging from the number of wigwams, there must have been about
one hundred and seventy warriors. Some of the trees about it had been
stripped, and painted with threats, and bravadoes, and scurrilous taunts
written on them in the French language, showing that there were white men
with the savages.
The next morning at daybreak, three men venturing beyond the sentinels were
shot and scalped; parties were immediately sent out to scour the woods, and
drive in the stray horses.
The day's march, passed by the Great Meadows and Fort Necessity, the scene
of Washington's capitulation. Several Indians were seen hovering in the
woods, and the light horse and Indian allies were sent out to surround
them, but did not succeed. In crossing a mountain beyond the Great Meadows,
the carriages had to be lowered with the assistance of the sailors, by
means of tackle. The camp for the night was about two miles beyond Fort
Necessity. Several French and Indians endeavored to reconnoitre it, but
were fired upon by the advanced sentinels.
The following day (26th) there was a laborious march of but four miles,
owing to the difficulties of the road. The evening halt was at another
deserted Indian camp, strongly posted on a high rock, with a steep and
narrow ascent; it had a spring in the middle, and stood at the termination
of the Indian path to the Monongahela. By this pass the party had come
which attacked Washington the year before, in the Great Meadows. The
Indians and French too, who were hovering about the army, had just left
this camp. The fires they had left were yet burning. The French had
inscribed their names on some of the trees with insulting bravadoes, and
the Indians had designated in triumph the scalps they had taken two days
previously. A party was sent out with guides, to follow their tracks and
fall on them in the night, but again without success. In fact, it was the
Indian boast, that throughout this march of Braddock, they saw him every
day from the mountains, and expected to be able to shoot down his soldiers
"like pigeons."
The march continued to be toilful and difficult; on one day it did not
exceed two miles, having to cut a passage over a mountain. In cleaning
their guns the men were ordered to draw the charge, instead of firing it
off. No fire was to be lighted in front of the pickets. At night the men
were to take their arms into the tents with them.
Further on the precautions became still greater. On the advanced pickets
the men were in two divisions, relieving each other every two hours. Half
remained on guard with fixed bayonets, the other half lay down by their
arms. The picket sentinels were doubled.
On the 4th of July they encamped at Thicketty Run. The country was less
mountainous and rocky, and the woods, consisting chiefly of white pine,
were more open. The general now supposed himself to be within thirty miles
of Fort Duquesne. Ever since his halt at the deserted camp on the rock
beyond the Great Meadows, he had endeavored to prevail upon the Croghan
Indians to scout in the direction of the fort, and bring him intelligence,
but never could succeed. They had probably been deterred by the number of
French and Indian tracks, and by the recent capture of Scarooyadi. This
day, however, two consented to reconnoitre; and shortly after their
departure, Christopher Gist, the resolute pioneer, who acted as guide to
the general, likewise set off as a scout.
The Indians returned on the 6th. They had been close to Fort Duquesne.
There were no additional works there; they saw a few boats under the fort,
and one with a white flag coming down the Ohio; but there were few men to
be seen, and few tracks of any. They came upon an unfortunate officer,
shooting within half a mile of the fort, and brought a scalp as a trophy of
his fate. None of the passes between the camp and fort were occupied; they
believed there were few men abroad reconnoitering.
Gist returned soon after them. His account corroborated theirs; but he had
seen a smoke in a valley between the camp and the fort, made probably by
some scouting party. He had intended to prowl about the fort at night, but
had been discovered and pursued by two Indians and narrowly escaped with
his life.
On the same day, during the march, three or four men loitering in the rear
of the grenadiers were killed and scalped. Several of the grenadiers set
off to take revenge. They came upon a party of Indians, who held up boughs
and grounded their arms, the concerted sign of amity. Not perceiving or
understanding it, the grenadiers fired upon them, and one fell. It proved
to be the son of Scarooyadi. Aware too late of their error, the grenadiers
brought the body to the camp. The conduct of Braddock was admirable on the
occasion. He sent for the father and the other Indians, and condoled with
them on the lamentable occurrence; making them the customary presents of
expiation. But what was more to the point, he caused the youth to be buried
with the honors of war; at his request the officers attended the funeral,
and a volley was fired over the grave.
These soldierlike tributes of respect to the deceased, and sympathy with
the survivors, soothed the feelings and gratified the pride of the father,
and attached him more firmly to the service. We are glad to record an
anecdote so contrary to the general contempt for the Indians with which
Braddock stands charged. It speaks well for the real kindness of his heart.
We will return now to Washington in his sick encampment on the banks of the
Youghiogeny where he was left repining at the departure of the troops
without him. To add to his annoyances, his servant, John Alton, a faithful
Welshman, was taken ill with the same malady, and unable to render him any
services. Letters from his fellow aides-de-camp showed him the kind
solicitude that was felt concerning him. At the general's desire, Captain
Morris wrote to him, informing him of their intended halts.
"It is the desire of every individual in the family," adds he, "and the
general's positive commands to you, not to stir, but by the advice of the
person [Dr. Craik] under whose care you are, till you are better, which we
all hope will be very soon."
Orme, too, according to promise, kept him informed of the incidents of the
march; the frequent night alarms, and occasional scalping parties. The
night alarms Washington considered mere feints, designed to harass the men
and retard the march; the enemy, he was sure, had not sufficient force for
a serious attack; and he was glad to learn from Orme that the men were in
high spirits and confident of success.
He now considered himself sufficiently recovered to rejoin the troops, and
his only anxiety was that he should not be able to do it in time for the
great blow. He was rejoiced, therefore, on the 3d of July, by the arrival
of an advanced party of one hundred men convoying provisions. Being still
too weak to mount his horse, he set off with the escort in a covered
waggon; and after a most fatiguing journey, over mountain and through
forest, reached Braddock's camp on the 8th of July. It was on the east side
of the Monongahela, about two miles from the river in the neighborhood of
the town of Queen Aliquippa, and about fifteen miles from Fort Duquesne.
In consequence of adhering to technical rules and military forms, General
Braddock had consumed a month in marching little more than a hundred miles.
The tardiness of his progress was regarded with surprise and impatience
even in Europe; where his patron, the Duke of Brunswick, was watching the
events of the campaign he had planned. "The Duke," writes Horace Walpole,
"is much dissatisfied at the slowness of General Braddock, _who does not
march as if he was at all impatient to be scalped._" The insinuation of
the satirical wit was unmerited. Braddock was a stranger to fear; but in
his movements he was fettered by system.
Washington was warmly received on his arrival, especially by his fellow
aides-de-camp, Morris and Orme. He was just in time, for the attack upon
Fort Duquesne was to be made on the following day. The neighboring country
had been reconnoitered to determine upon a plan of attack. The fort stood
on the same side of the Monongahela with the camp; but there was a narrow
pass between them of about two miles, with the river on the left and a very
high mountain on the right, and in its present state quite impassable for
carriages. The route determined on was to cross the Monongahela by a ford
immediately opposite to the camp; proceed along the west bank of the river,
for about five miles, then recross by another ford to the eastern side, and
push on to the fort. The river at these fords was shallow, and the banks
were not steep.
According to the plan of arrangement, Lieutenant-Colonel Gage, with the
advance, was to cross the river before daybreak, march to the second ford,
and recrossing there, take post to secure the passage of the main force.
The advance was to be composed of two companies of grenadiers, one hundred
and sixty infantry, the independent company of Captain Horatio Gates, and
two six pounders.
Washington, who had already seen enough of regular troops to doubt their
infallibility in wild bush-fighting, and who knew the dangerous nature of
the ground they were to traverse, ventured to suggest, that on the
following day the Virginia rangers, being accustomed to the country and to
Indian warfare, might be thrown in the advance. The proposition drew an
angry reply from the general, indignant, very probably, that a young
provincial officer should presume to school a veteran like himself.
Early next morning (July 9th), before daylight, Colonel Gage crossed with
the advance. He was followed, at some distance, by Sir John St. Clair,
quartermaster-general, with a working party of two hundred and fifty men,
to make roads for the artillery and baggage. They had with them their
waggons of tools, and two six pounders. A party of about thirty savages
rushed out of the woods as Colonel Gage advanced, but were put to flight
before they had done any harm.
By sunrise the main body turned out in full uniform. At the beating of the
general, their arms, which had been cleaned the night before, were charged
with fresh cartridges. The officers were perfectly equipped. All looked as
if arrayed for a fête, rather than a battle. Washington, who was still weak
and unwell, mounted his horse, and joined the staff of the general, who was
scrutinizing every thing with the eye of a martinet. As it was supposed the
enemy would be on the watch for the crossing of the troops, it had been
agreed that they should do it in the greatest order, with bayonets fixed,
colors flying, and drums and fifes beating and playing. [Footnote: Orme's
Journal.] They accordingly made a gallant appearance as they forded the
Monongahela, and wound along its banks, and through the open forests,
gleaming and glittering in morning sunshine, and stepping buoyantly to the
Grenadier's March.
Washington, with his keen and youthful relish for military affairs, was
delighted with their perfect order and equipment, so different from the
rough bush-fighters, to which he had been accustomed. Roused to new life,
he forgot his recent ailments, and broke forth in expressions of enjoyment
and admiration, as he rode in company with his fellow aides-de-camp, Orme
and Morris. Often, in after life, he used to speak of the effect upon him
of the first sight of a well-disciplined European army, marching in high
confidence and bright array, on the eve of a battle.
About noon they reached the second ford. Gage, with the advance, was on the
opposite side of the Monongahela, posted according to orders; but the river
bank had not been sufficiently sloped. The artillery and baggage drew up
along the beach and halted until one, when the second crossing took place,
drums beating, fifes playing, and colors flying, as before. When all had
passed, there was again a halt close by a small stream called Frazier's
Run, until the general arranged the order of march.
First went the advance, under Gage, preceded by the engineers and guides,
and six light horsemen.
Then, Sir John St. Clair and the working party, with their waggons and the
two six pounders. On each side were thrown out four flanking parties.
Then, at some distance, the general was to follow with the main body, the
artillery and baggage preceded and flanked by light horse and squads of
infantry; while the Virginian, and other provincial troops, were to form
the rear guard.
The ground before them was level until about half a mile from the river,
where a rising ground, covered with long grass, low bushes, and scattered
trees, sloped gently up to a range of hills. The whole country, generally
speaking, was a forest, with no clear opening but the road, which was about
twelve feet wide, and flanked by two ravines, concealed by trees and
thickets.
Had Braddock been schooled in the warfare of the woods, or had he adopted
the suggestions of Washington, which he rejected so impatiently, he would
have thrown out Indian scouts or Virginia rangers in the advance, and on
the flanks, to beat up the woods and ravines; but, as has been
sarcastically observed, he suffered his troops to march forward through the
centre of the plain, with merely their usual guides and flanking parties,
"as if in a review in St. James' Park."
It was now near two o'clock. The advanced party and the working party had
crossed the plain and were ascending the rising ground. Braddock was about
to follow with the main body and had given the word to march, when he heard
an excessively quick and heavy firing in front. Washington, who was with
the general, surmised that the evil he had apprehended had come to pass.
For want of scouting parties ahead the advance parties were suddenly and
warmly attacked. Braddock ordered Lieutenant-Colonel Burton to hasten to
their assistance with the vanguard of the main body, eight hundred strong.
The residue, four hundred, were halted, and posted to protect the artillery
and baggage.
The firing continued, with fearful yelling. There was a terrible uproar. By
the general's orders an aide-de-camp spurred forward to bring him an
account of the nature of the attack. Without waiting for his return the
general himself, finding the turmoil increase, moved forward, leaving Sir
Peter Halket with the command of the baggage. [Footnote: Orme's Journal.]
The van of the advance had indeed been taken by surprise. It was composed
of two companies of carpenters or pioneers to cut the road, and two flank
companies of grenadiers to protect them. Suddenly the engineer who preceded
them to mark out the road gave the alarm, "French and Indians!" A body of
them was approaching rapidly, cheered on by a Frenchman in gaily fringed
hunting-shirt, whose gorget showed him to be an officer. There was sharp
firing on both sides at first. Several of the enemy fell; among them their
leader; but a murderous fire broke out from among trees and a ravine on the
right, and the woods resounded with unearthly whoops and yellings. The
Indian rifle was at work, levelled by unseen hands. Most of the grenadiers
and many of the pioneers were shot down. The survivors were driven in on
the advance.
Gage ordered his men to fix bayonets and form in order of battle. They did
so in hurry and trepidation. He would have scaled a hill on the right
whence there was the severest firing. Not a platoon would quit the line of
march. They were more dismayed by the yells than by the rifles of the
unseen savages. The latter extended themselves along the hill and in the
ravines; but their whereabouts was only known by their demoniac cries and
the puffs of smoke from their rifles. The soldiers fired wherever they saw
the smoke. Their officers tried in vain to restrain them until they should
see their foe. All orders were unheeded; in their fright they shot at
random, killing some of their own flanking parties, and of the vanguard, as
they came running in. The covert fire grew more intense. In a short time
most of the officers and many of the men of the advance were killed or
wounded. Colonel Gage himself received a wound. The advance fell back in
dismay upon Sir John St. Clair's corps, which was equally dismayed. The
cannon belonging to it were deserted.
Colonel Burton had come up with the reinforcement, and was forming his men
to face the rising ground on the right, when both of the advanced
detachments fell back upon him, and all now was confusion.
By this time the general was upon the ground. He tried to rally the men.
"They would fight," they said, "if they could see their enemy; but it was
useless to fire at trees and bushes, and they could not stand to be shot
down by an invisible foe."
The colors were advanced in different places to separate the men of the two
regiments. The general ordered the officers to form the men, tell them off
into small divisions, and advance with them; but the soldiers could not be
prevailed upon either by threats or entreaties. The Virginia troops,
accustomed to the Indian mode of fighting, scattered themselves, and took
post behind trees, where they could pick off the lurking foe. In this way
they, in some degree, protected the regulars. Washington advised General
Braddock to adopt the same plan with the regulars; but he persisted in
forming them into platoons; consequently they were cut down from behind
logs and trees as fast as they could advance. Several attempted to take to
the trees, without orders, but the general stormed at them, called them
cowards, and even struck them with the flat of his sword. Several of the
Virginians, who had taken post and were doing good service in this manner,
were slain by the fire of the regulars, directed wherever a smoke appeared
among the trees.
The officers behaved with consummate bravery; and Washington beheld with
admiration those who, in camp or on the march, had appeared to him to have
an almost effeminate regard for personal ease and convenience, now exposing
themselves to imminent death, with a courage that kindled with the
thickening horrors. In the vain hope of inspiriting the men to drive off
the enemy from the flanks and regain the cannon, they would dash forward
singly or in groups. They were invariably shot down; for the Indians aimed
from their coverts at every one on horseback, or who appeared to have
command.
Some were killed by random shot of their own men, who, crowded in masses,
fired with affrighted rapidity, but without aim. Soldiers in the front
ranks were killed by those in the rear. Between friend and foe, the
slaughter of the officers was terrible. All this while the woods resounded
with the unearthly yellings of the savages, and now and then one of them,
hideously painted, and ruffling with feathered crest, would rush forth to
scalp an officer who had fallen, or seize a horse galloping wildly without
a rider.
Throughout this disastrous day, Washington distinguished himself by his
courage and presence of mind. His brother aids, Orme and Morris, were
wounded and disabled early in the action, and the whole duty of carrying
the orders of the general devolved on him. His danger was imminent and
incessant. He was in every part of the field, a conspicuous mark for the
murderous rifle. Two horses were shot under him. Four bullets passed
through his coat. His escape without a wound was almost miraculous. Dr.
Craik, who was on the field attending to the wounded, watched him with
anxiety as he rode about in the most exposed manner, and used to say that
he expected every moment to see him fall. At one time he was sent to the
main body to bring the artillery into action. All there was likewise in
confusion; for the Indians had extended themselves along the ravine so as
to flank the reserve and carry slaughter into the ranks. Sir Peter Halket
had been shot down at the head of his regiment. The men who should have
served the guns were paralyzed. Had they raked the ravines with grapeshot
the day might have been saved. In his ardor Washington sprang from his
horse; wheeled and pointed a brass field-piece with his own hand, and
directed an effective discharge into the woods; but neither his efforts nor
example were of avail. The men could not be kept to the guns.
Braddock still remained in the centre of the field, in the desperate hope
of retrieving the fortunes of the day. The Virginia rangers, who had been
most efficient in covering his position, were nearly all killed or wounded.
His secretary, Shirley, had fallen by his side. Many of his officers had
been slain within his sight, and many of his guard of Virginia light horse.
Five horses had been killed under him; still he kept his ground, vainly
endeavoring to check the flight of his men, or at least to effect their
retreat in good order. At length a bullet passed through his right arm, and
lodged itself in his lungs. He fell from his horse, but was caught by
Captain Stewart of the Virginia guards, who, with the assistance of another
American, and a servant, placed him in a tumbril. It was with much
difficulty they got him out of the field--in his despair he desired to be
left there. [Footnote: Journal of the Seamen's detachment.]
The rout now became complete. Baggage, stores, artillery, every thing was
abandoned. The waggoners took each a horse out of his team, and fled. The
officers were swept off with the men in this headlong flight. It was
rendered more precipitate by the shouts and yells of the savages, numbers
of whom rushed forth from their coverts, and pursued the fugitives to the
river side, killing several as they dashed across in tumultuous confusion.
Fortunately for the latter, the victors gave up the pursuit in their
eagerness to collect the spoil.
The shattered army continued its flight after it had crossed the
Monongahela, a wretched wreck of the brilliant little force that had
recently gleamed along its banks, confident of victory. Out of eighty-six
officers, twenty-six had been killed, and thirty-six wounded. The number of
rank and file killed and wounded was upwards of seven hundred. The Virginia
corps had suffered the most; one company had been almost annihilated,
another, beside those killed and wounded in the ranks, had lost all its
officers, even to the corporal.
About a hundred men were brought to a halt about a quarter of a mile from
the ford of the river. Here was Braddock, with his wounded aides-de-camp
and some of his officers; Dr. Craik dressing his wounds, and Washington
attending him with faithful assiduity. Braddock was still able to give
orders, and had a faint hope of being able to keep possession of the ground
until reinforced. Most of the men were stationed in a very advantageous
spot about two hundred yards from the road; and Lieutenant-Colonel Burton
posted out small parties and sentinels. Before an hour had elapsed most of
the men had stolen off. Being thus deserted, Braddock and his officers
continued their retreat; he would have mounted his horse but was unable,
and had to be carried by soldiers. Orme and Morris were placed on litters
borne by horses. They were subsequently joined by Colonel Gage with eighty
men whom he had rallied.
Washington, in the mean time, notwithstanding his weak state, being found
most efficient in frontier service, was sent to Colonel Dunbar's camp,
forty miles distant, with orders for him to hurry forward provisions,
hospital stores, and waggons for the wounded, under the escort of two
grenadier companies. It was a hard and a melancholy ride throughout the
night and the following day. The tidings of the defeat preceded him, borne
by the waggoners, who had mounted their horses, on Braddock's fall, and
fled from the field of battle. They had arrived, haggard, at Dunbar's camp
at mid-day; the Indian yells still ringing in their ears. "All was lost!"
they cried. "Braddock was killed! They had seen wounded officers borne off
from the field in bloody sheets! The troops were all cut to pieces!" A
panic fell upon the camp. The drums beat to arms. Many of the soldiers,
waggoners and attendants, took to flight; but most of them were forced back
by the sentinels.
Washington arrived at the camp in the evening, and found the agitation
still prevailing. The orders which he brought were executed during the
night, and he was in the saddle early in the morning accompanying the
convoy of supplies. At Gist's plantation, about thirteen miles off, he met
Gage and his scanty force escorting Braddock and his wounded officers.
Captain Stewart and a sad remnant of the Virginia light horse still
accompanied the general as his guard. The captain had been unremitting in
his attentions to him during the retreat. There was a halt of one day at
Dunbar's camp for the repose and relief of the wounded. On the 13th they
resumed their melancholy march, and that night reached the Great Meadows.
The proud spirit of Braddock was broken by his defeat. He remained silent
the first evening after the battle, only ejaculating at night, "who would
have thought it!" He was equally silent the following day; yet hope still
seemed to linger in his breast, from another ejaculation: "We shall better
know how to deal with them another time!" [Footnote: Captain Orme, who gave
these particulars to Dr. Franklin, says that Braddock "died a few minutes
after." This, according to his account, was on the second day; whereas the
general survived upwards of four days. Orme, being conveyed on a litter at
some distance from the general, could only speak of his moods from
hearsay.]
He was grateful for the attentions paid to him by Captain Stewart and
Washington, and more than once, it is said, expressed his admiration of the
gallantry displayed by the Virginians in the action. It is said, moreover,
that in his last moments, he apologized to Washington for the petulance
with which he had rejected his advice, and bequeathed to him his favorite
charger and his faithful servant, Bishop, who had helped to convey him from
the field.
Some of these facts, it is true, rest on tradition, yet we are willing to
believe them, as they impart a gleam of just and generous feeling to his
closing scene. He died on the night of the 13th, at the Great Meadows, the
place of Washington's discomfiture in the previous year. His obsequies were
performed before break of day. The chaplain having been wounded, Washington
read the funeral service. All was done in sadness, and without parade, so
as not to attract the attention of lurking savages, who might discover, and
outrage his grave. It is doubtful even whether a volley was fired over it,
that last military honor which he had recently paid to the remains of an
Indian warrior. The place of his sepulture, however, is still known, and
pointed out.
Reproach spared him not, even when in his grave. The failure of the
expedition was attributed both in England and America to his obstinacy, his
technical pedantry, and his military conceit. He had been continually
warned to be on his guard against ambush and surprise, but without avail.
Had he taken the advice urged on him by Washington and others to employ
scouting parties of Indians and rangers, he would never have been so
signally surprised and defeated.
Still his dauntless conduct on the field of battle shows him to have been a
man of fearless spirit; and he was universally allowed to be an
accomplished disciplinarian. His melancholy end, too, disarms censure of
its asperity. Whatever may have been his faults and errors, he, in a
manner, expiated them by the hardest lot that can befall a brave soldier,
ambitious of renown--an unhonored grave in a strange land; a memory clouded
by misfortune, and a name for ever coupled with defeat.
NOTE.
In narrating the expedition of Braddock, we have frequently cited the
Journals of Captain Orme and of the "Seamen's Detachment;" they were
procured in England by the Hon. Joseph R. Ingersoll, while Minister at the
Court of St. James, and recently published by the Historical Society of
Pennsylvania: ably edited, and illustrated with an admirable Introductory
Memoir by Winthrop Sargent, Esq., member of that Society.