general. "The king's troops will show you how to handle savages."
"I will scour the woods in advance with the Virginia provincials if you
say the word, general," Washington continued, apprehending that they
were in the very jaws of danger. He knew very well that French and
Indian scouts must be near them watching their movements. But Braddock
declined his offer and they marched on in European style, "three hundred
men under Colonel Gage forming the advanced party, followed by a party
of two hundred; and last of all, the general, with the main body,
Colonel Duncan leading the rear with supplies."
We should have stated that, in the outset, Indians flocked to the
English standard; among them White Thunder Scarooyadi, successor to
half-king, who had died, and others, associated with Washington in his
former campaign. Silver Heels, so called from his nimbleness, a renowned
warrior, came and tendered his services.
Through Washington's entreaty, General Braddock received the red
warriors kindly, with military honors. He made them presents in the name
of the king, and they, in turned, danced and sung war songs. But such
was Braddock's demeanor towards them subsequently, that they became
displeased; and, when their dissatisfaction was intensified by the
improper conduct of some young English officers towards Bright
Lightning, the beautiful daughter of White Thunder, they all deserted
the army in disgust. When within ten miles of Duquesne, on the ninth day
of July, Braddock had no Indians in his command.
Scarooyadi reported to the governor and Council of Pennsylvania, after
Braddock's defeat: "It was owing to the pride and arrogance of that
great general who came from England. He is now dead, but he was a bad
man when he was alive. He looked upon us as dogs, and would never hear
anything that was said to him. We often endeavored to advise him, and
tell him of the danger he was in with his soldiers; but he never
appeared pleased with us, and that was the reason a great many of our
warriors left him." He proposed to take up the hatchet again with the
English, and said:
"Let us unite our strength; you are numerous, and all the English
governors along your seashore can raise men enough; but don't let those
that come from over the great seas be concerned any more. _They are
unfit to fight in the woods. Let us go ourselves, we that came out of
this ground._"
Three or four o'clock on that ninth day of July, as the advance of the
army was ascending a rise of ground, a volley of musketry suddenly
arrested their progress. From a ravine, concealed by dense foliage,
a deadly fire was poured into their faces. Before they had recovered
from their surprise, another volley was fired into them from the other
side. These volleys mowed them down like grass. Yet the enemy could not
be seen. The English directed their fire towards the smoke of battle,
though but for a moment. For the torrent of lead, shot into their faces,
forced the advance back upon the main column, and confusion followed.
General Braddock bravely sought to rally them, to move forward in
orderly columns, as on European battlefields, but his efforts were
abortive; for six hundred Indians, painted and armed for battle and
thirsting for blood, burst from their ambuscade, followed by three
hundred French and Canadians, sure of victory; and the work of carnage
grew terrific.
Early in the conflict two of Braddock's aides-de-camp, Captains Orme and
Morris, fell, and Washington alone remained to carry the general's
orders here and there. Without the least regard to personal safety, he
galloped over the field, his tall, noble form presenting a rare target
for the Indian sharpshooters, who took special pains to bring him down.
Two horses were shot under him, and four balls pierced his clothes;
still he was conspicuous everywhere that he could be of service, and for
three hours distributed his commander's orders, with the deadly missiles
flying around him like hailstones. Dr. Craik said:
"I expected to see him fall every moment. He dashed over the field,
reckless of death, when the bullets whistled about him on every side.
Why he was not killed I cannot divine, unless a watchful Providence was
preserving him for more important work."
One of the principal Indian warriors fired at him again and again; and,
at his bidding, a score of young braves did the same, without so much as
grazing his skin, keeping up their fire until convinced that the Great
Spirit had given to him a charmed life that he might not be shot in
battle.
Mr. Paulding gives the description of an eye-witness thus:
"I saw him take hold of a brass field-piece as if it had been a stick.
He looked like a fury; he tore the sheet-lead from the touch-hole, he
placed one hand on the muzzle, the other on the breach; he pulled with
this and he pushed with that, and wheeled it round as if it had been
nothing. It tore the ground like a plough. The powder monkey rushed up
with the fire, and then the cannon began to bark, I tell you. They
fought and they fought, and the Indians yelled when the rest of the
brass cannon made the bark of the trees fly, and the Indians came down.
That place they call Rock Hill, and there they left five hundred men
dead on the ground."
A bullet struck Washington's gold watch-seal, and knocked it from his
chain. Eighty years after the battle that seal was found by a visitor to
the battle ground, and it is now preserved among the relics of the
Washington family.
The English officers behaved heroically, and won Washington's admiration
by their bravery; but the English _soldiers_ acted like cowards.
Panic-stricken in the first place, they did not recover from their
consternation during the engagement. The unearthly yells of the savages,
which they had never heard before, seemed to terrify them even more than
the whistling of bullets. They lost self-control, disregarded the orders
of their officers, and ran hither and thither like frightened sheep.
Sixty-three of the eighty-five English officers were killed or wounded,
a fact that shows how bravely they fought.
General Braddock proved himself a brave and faithful commander. He did
all that mortal man could do to save his army, exposing himself to death
from first to last. After three hours of hard fighting, during which
time four horses were shot under him, he fell, pierced by several
bullets, and was borne from the field.
Now the whole command depended upon Washington, who had taken special
pains to have the Virginia marksmen fight the Indians after their own
fashion. Their effective tactics had saved the English army from
complete destruction. And now Washington rallied them afresh, to cover
the army in its retreat, bearing their wounded commander as they went.
Mr. Meek's description of the final contest is so particular and graphic
that we quote it here:
"Happily, on the left, where lay the heaviest fire, Washington's rangers
were posted, but not exposed like the British. For, on hearing the
savage yells aforesaid, in a moment they flew each to his tree, like the
Indians; and, like them, each leveled his rifle, and with as deadly aim.
This, through a kind Providence, saved Braddock's army; for, exulting in
their confusion, the savages, grimly painted, and yelling like furies,
leaped from their coverts, eager to glut their hellish rage with a total
massacre of the British. But, faithful to their friends, Washington's
rangers stepped forth with joy to met the assailants. Then rose a scene
sufficient to fill the stoutest heart with horror. _Here_ falls the
brave Virginia blue, under the stroke of his nimbler foe; and _there_,
man on man, the Indians perish beneath the furious storm of lead. But
who can tell the joy of Washington, when he saw this handful of his
despised countrymen thus gallantly defending their British friends, and,
by dint of mortal steel, driving back their blood-thirsty assailants?
Happy check! for by this time, covered with wounds, Braddock had fallen;
his aids and officers, to a man, killed or wounded; and his troops, in
_hopeless_, _helpless_ despair, flying backwards and forwards from the
fire of the Indians, like flocks of crowded sheep from the presence of
their butchers. Washington alone remained unhurt. Two horses had been
killed under him. Showers of bullets had lifted his locks or pierced his
regimentals. But still protected by heaven, still supported by a
strength not his own, he had continued to fly from quarter to quarter,
where his presence was most needed, sometimes animating his rangers,
sometimes striving, but in vain, to rally the regulars. 'Twas his lot to
be close to the brave but imprudent Braddock when he fell, and assisted
to place him in a tumbril, or little cart. As he was laid down, pale and
near spent with loss of blood, he faintly said to Washington:
"Well, colonel, what's to be done now?"
"Retreat, retreat by all means," answered Washington. "The regulars
won't fight and the rangers are nearly all killed."
"Poor fellows! poor fellows!" weakly replied the dying general. "Do as
you will, colonel, the command is on you."
"More than half of the army are dead and wounded," continued Washington,
"and retreat is all that is left us. The surviving rangers can cover the
retreat of the remnant."
"Pardon me, colonel for rejecting your counsel, which I now deeply
regret," the general frankly confessed. "I see it now, but it is all
over."
The command of the army reverted to Colonel Dunbar after the fall of
Braddock; but he was several miles away, on the other side of the
Monongahela, when the disaster occurred, in charge of the rear division
and supplies. Hence the authority of Washington for the time being.
When the retreating army recrossed the river and reached Colonel Dunbar,
and he learned the extent of the disaster, the wildest confusion
followed. Colonel Dunbar proved himself unfit for his position, by
losing his self-control, ordering the heavy baggage and supplies to be
burned, and hastening the retreat to Fort Necessity.
General Braddock died soon after the shattered army reached Fort
Necessity. Tradition says that he died in the arms of Washington, to
whom he gave his favorite servant, Bishop, expressing regrets again and
again that he had not treated his youthful aid-de-camp with more
consideration.
Washington conducted the funeral services over the remains of the
British general, and made it a very impressive ceremony. His voice
trembled with emotion when he read the Episcopal service, and tears
stood in his eyes as he thought of the victory that might have been,
instead of the terrible defeat that was.
Subsequent information received by Washington proved that the French at
Fort Duquesne celebrated their victory by a drunken carousal, and that
they treated their prisoners with great barbarity. Colonel Smith, who
was a prisoner there, and an eye-witness, subsequently bore the
following testimony, after speaking of the victorious savages returning
with the spoils of war, such as grenadiers' caps, canteens, muskets,
swords, bayonets, rich uniforms, and dripping scalps:
"Those that were coming in and those who had arrived kept up a constant
firing of small arms, and also of the great guns in the fort, which was
accompanied by the most hideous shouts and yells from all quarters, so
that it appeared to me as if the infernal regions had broken loose.
About sundown I beheld a small party coming in with about a dozen of
prisoners, stripped naked, with their hands tied behind their backs.
Their faces and parts of their bodies were blackened. These prisoners
they burned to death on the banks of the Alleghany River, opposite to
the fort. I stood on the walls of the fort until I beheld them begin to
burn one of these men. They tied him to a stake and kept touching him
with fire-brands, red-hot irons, etc., and he screamed in the most
doleful manner. The Indians, in the mean time, were yelling like
infernal spirits. As this scene was too shocking for me, I returned to
my lodgings both sorry and sore.
"From the best information I could receive, there were only seven
Indians and four French killed in this battle. Five hundred British lay
dead in the field, besides what were killed in the river, after their
retreat. The morning after the battle I saw Braddock's artillery
brought into the fort. The same day, also, I saw several Indians in the
dress of British officers, with the sashes, half-moons, laced hats,
etc., which the British wore."
Washington said: "The French are responsible for these atrocious
cruelties, for the Indians are their allies, instigated to war by their
influence, fighting under their banner, and paid by their money. The
burning of our men under the very walls of their fort must have been
done by their approval."
He embraced the first opportunity after the battle, to write to his
mother, that she might know of his safety, and be relieved of any
anxiety which exaggerated reports might create. His letter to her was
dated Fort Cumberland, July 18, 1755, and the first paragraph was:
"As I doubt not but you have heard of our defeat, and, perhaps, had it
represented in a worse light, if possible, than it deserves, I have
taken this opportunity to give you some account of the engagement as it
happened within ten miles of the French fort, on Wednesday, the 9th
inst."
He wrote to his brother:
"The Virginia troops showed a good deal of bravery, and were nearly all
killed. The dastardly behavior of those they called regulars exposed all
others that were ordered to do their duty to almost certain death. At
last, in despite of all the efforts of the officers to the contrary,
they ran, as sheep pursued by dogs, and it was impossible to rally them.
"By the all-powerful dispensations of Providence I have been protected
beyond all human probability or expectation, for I had four bullets
through my coat and two horses shot under me, yet escaped unhurt,
although death was leveling my companions on every side of me."
XIII.
ON THE FRONTIER.
Washington's advice to Colonel Dunbar was: "Reorganize and march upon
Duquesne. That fort can be captured by strategy."
"I can do nothing with an army so demoralized as this," replied Dunbar.
"We may as well consider this campaign ended. Our force is now too much
reduced to capture Duquesne."
"Nevertheless I believe that this defeat may be turned into victory,"
added Washington. "At any rate I am not in favor of utterly abandoning
the attempt."
"Better that than to make a second attempt and fail," retorted Dunbar.
"I do not propose to remain and see the remnant of my army annihilated."
"What, then, will you do?"
"Strike my tents and repair to Philadelphia and go into winter
quarters," answered Dunbar.
"Go into winter quarters before dog-days have fairly set in!" exclaimed
Washington, surprised by the suggestion. "What will the people of our
country say to that?"
"They may say what they please," said Dunbar. "The risk is too great for
me to assume under the circumstances, and I decide to go into camp in
Philadelphia."
"Then there is no alternative for me but to return to Williamsburg,"
added Washington, perfectly satisfied that Dunbar was too much of a
coward to be intrusted with the command of an army.
Colonel Dunbar acted accordingly; struck his tents, and, under the
impulse of his excessive fear, hurried his troops off to Philadelphia.
Washington regretfully and sorrowfully marched the Virginia force back
to Williamsburg. News of the disaster had reached that place before his
arrival, causing great excitement and sorrow; but when the people looked
upon his shattered and diminished force, their hearts were touched, and
their fears greatly augmented. Nor did they attach blame to Washington;
on the other hand, the sentiment was universal that, but for his bravery
and skill, Braddock's army would have been well nigh annihilated.
Governor Dinwiddie immediately called together the Assembly to consider
what could be done in the crisis. In the meantime he conferred with
Washington respecting the way of retrieving their loss.
"Raise a force of two or three thousand men," said Washington, "and
reduce Fort Duquesne as soon as possible. Under the flush of this
victory the French will urge the Indians on to devastation and carnage
throughout the frontier. A speedy, bold, successful attack upon the fort
will prevent such a calamity."
"I had not thought of that," answered the governor, "but it is a
sensible view of the matter to take. We must protect the country against
Indian depredations if it be possible."
"Or we are in a far worse condition than ever," interjected Washington.
"You know what the Indians are under the excitement of victory;
_savages_ in the worst sense of the word."
"And there will be no mercy shown to the defenceless settlements and the
scattered families of the frontier," added the governor. "All the
horrors of Indian massacre and outrage will be witnessed in our
country."
Governor Dinwiddie canvassed the whole subject with Washington, so that
he was prepared to make definite suggestions to the Legislature when
that body convened. He advised them to raise two thousand troops and
make a liberal appropriation of money, "to carry the war into Africa,"
on the ground that otherwise the enemy would be emboldened to prosecute
an aggressive war.
When the Legislature assembled, leading members opposed aggressive
warfare, and advised only defensive operations on the frontier. So they
voted to raise a thousand troops only, and appropriated money
accordingly, a very great disappointment to Washington and those who
took the same view of the situation that he did. At the same time
Washington was appointed commander-in-chief of the Virginia forces, with
the unusual power of appointing his own field officers and aide-de-camp
and secretary. This was on the 14th of August, 1755.
On a former page we said that expeditions against the French and Indians
at Niagara and Crown Point were planned at the same time the expedition
against Duquesne was determined upon. Both of these expeditions failed.
They started from Albany, N.Y., the first under the command of Governor
Shirley of Massachusetts; the other under William Johnson, an Irishman,
who was on intimate terms of friendship with the most powerful chiefs of
the Six Nations. When these two expeditions were fairly under way, news
of the disastrous defeat of Braddock reached them, and completely
demoralized the troops. The Indians, who were always inclined to join
the winning side, deserted the ranks, and many white soldiers followed
their cowardly example. The expedition under Johnson accomplished
something in another direction; but both expeditions failed, so far as
the proposed reduction of Niagara and Crown Point was concerned.
"A fatal mistake!" remarked Washington to Mr. Fairfax. "Such timid
measures are just suited to encourage the enemy."
"It cannot be otherwise," answered Fairfax. "To provide just enough men
to make a good target, and just enough money to pay for shooting them
down, is very poor policy, in my judgment."
"When it comes to actual service," continued Washington, "there will not
be over seven hundred reliable soldiers for fighting. To defend three
hundred and sixty miles of frontier with this small force is next to
impossible. To mass them in one locality will leave other localities
exposed; and to divide them up into squads, and scatter them over the
whole distance, is arranging them for the enemy to readily cut them off
one after another."
"A bloody work, that infuriated savages will enjoy," remarked Mr.
Fairfax. "The more I think of it, the more I shrink from the
contemplation of the horrible butchery that will probably follow this
serious mistake of the government."
"Yet I accept my appointment, lest a refusal be misconstrued," continued
Washington. "But I have served so long with inadequate support by the
government, followed by disasters, that I had hoped for the most liberal
provisions now."
"And they should have been freely granted," added Mr. Fairfax.
"No one can be more sensible of my failures than I am," Washington
remarked with his usual modesty. "If an old proverb will apply to my
case, I shall certainly close with a share of success, for surely no man
ever made a worse beginning than I have. Still, I want a fair chance to
redeem my fortunes if I can."
In September Washington established his headquarters at Winchester,
beyond the Blue Ridge, in the beautiful valley of the Shenandoah. It was
a frontier town, one hundred and forty miles northwest of Richmond. He
found the people of the town under great alarm in consequence of
frequent reports of depredations by French and Indians. The town was
crowded with men, women, and children, who had fled from their homes in
the wilderness to this place for protection, on hearing that the Indians
were on the war-path. Many of these reports were exaggerated, and others
had no foundation in truth. For instance, one morning the report came
that a party of Indians was within twelve miles of the town, pillaging,
burning and murdering in the most terrible manner. The report filled the
inhabitants with consternation, and women and children were half crazed
with fear.
Washington ordered a company of soldiers to follow him in driving back
the foe, but not one of them would respond. Their fears were greater
than their patriotism. Suspecting that the report might be exaggerated,
he sent out scouts to learn something more definite. The scouts returned
in one hour with the startling intelligence, "The Indians are less than
four miles away, destroying everything in their track."
On being questioned by Washington as to the facts in the case, the
scouts said, "We heard their yells and guns distinctly, and there is not
a shadow of doubt but that they will fall upon Winchester within an
hour."
Washington appealed to the soldiers again, and supplemented his appeal
by authority and threats.
About forty volunteered to accompany him to meet the savage foe. Moving
with extreme caution and circumspection, they reached the spot where the
scouts heard the yells of Indian warriors. Sure enough, they heard a
kind of yell and the discharge of a musket, but nothing that indicated
the presence of savages to Washington's experienced ear. Pressing on a
few rods farther, a turn of the road disclosed to Washington two drunken
soldiers, cursing, yelling and carousing, and occasionally firing off a
pistol into the air. He made prisoners of the two worthless fellows, who
had proved the scouts to be cowards, conveyed them to Winchester, and
locked them up.
This incident shows that there was little discipline among the soldiers,
and little self-possession among the people. In his discouragement,
Washington wrote to Governor Dinwiddie: