With Washington in the west;

With the coming of spring it was felt by many that a swift and decided movement should be made against the French and their Indian allies. Word came in through backwoodsmen and hunters that the French fort was but slimly garrisoned and that the enemy was also suffering for the want of army stores and ammunition.

“Could I strike a blow at once I might be successful,” said Washington, but he now had but a handful of soldiers and more it was next to impossible to obtain.

There was serious trouble regarding the English army and more troubles were to follow. Each officer was jealous of the others, and Governor Dinwiddie made matters worse by announcing that each company should be independent of the others and that nobody should hold a rank higher than that of captain. On top of this came a proclamation from England that any officer holding a commission from the king should be the superior of any provincial officer with whom he happened to be acting! Many Americans, though still loyal to the mother country, would not stand this, and among those to resign their commissions was Washington, who went back to his mother and to his brother’s family at Mount Vernon.

But the trouble in America was now a matter of hot discussion in England and France and soon England decided to strike at France’s colonies in Nova Scotia, New York, and throughout the Ohio valley. For this purpose England sent Major-General Edward Braddock to Virginia at the head of two regiments of picked soldiers.

The coming of Braddock with the trained soldiers of the king was hailed far and wide with delight, for all felt that the French would now suffer a quick and complete defeat. The soldiers arrived in February and went into camp at Alexandria, to which place the colonists from miles around flocked to see them. It was soon found that the English soldiers were indeed the pick of the army. They were drilled to perfection and everything in the camp went “like clock-work,” as the common saying goes. It was found that General Braddock was a stern veteran and disciplinarian, and one who never took advice from anybody. How dear this last trait was to cost him will soon be seen.

At Alexandria General Braddock met Washington, and the pair often came together later, when the Englishmen and the governors of the colonies held a consultation at Annapolis. It would seem that Braddock took to Washington, for soon after he offered the latter a position on his staff, with rank as colonel. Washington accepted at once, after being assured that he would be under orders from nobody but the general himself. At first some of the English officers grumbled at this, but before the army moved into the wilderness Washington was on a friendly footing with all.

It was well that Braddock took Washington on his staff. The English general knew nothing of American ways, nothing of the country to be covered, and nothing of the Indian method of warfare. He led the colonists to believe that he and he alone would fight and conquer the French and Indians, and when it came time for them to join him in the expedition they held back, not caring to “play second fiddle,” as some of the backwoodsmen said.

It was Washington who spoke to those who had fought under him before, and spoke to other of the colonists, and at last he persuaded the Virginia Rangers and a few other colonial troops to join the army under Braddock. But all this took time, and it was not until the middle of May, 1755, that the army reached Will’s Creek, and then the French, and their Indian allies, were on the alert and watching for their further march westward.

“The army has come!” shouted Dave one day, on returning from a visit to Will’s Creek. “General Braddock is there with over a thousand soldiers, and so is Colonel Washington with the Virginian troops. Oh, but don’t the regulars look grand! Their uniforms and rifles shine, I can tell you!”

“Here at last, eh?” returned Joseph Morris. “Well, it has taken them a good while to march from Alexandria, seems to me.”

“I saw Colonel Washington,” went on Dave. “And I’m going along, as soon as they move.”

“Wall, I’m with ye, Dave—told ye so right along,” put in Barringford, who had heard the talk. “I know he’ll take me quick enough,” and the old hunter grinned suggestively.

Dave looked doubtful for a moment. “I hope so, Sam,” he said. “I didn’t have much of a chance to talk about it. You see, the coming of General Braddock has made a big difference in the army. He’s as stiff and stern as can be, and none of the soldiers under him dare so much as wink without his permission. I heard from one of our old soldiers that even Washington can’t give him any advice. He says he knows just what he is doing.”

“Hope he does then,” was Barringford’s dry comment. “But he ain’t fit Injuns afore, has he?”

“I fancy not.”

“Then he’d better be jest a leetle careful. Ain’t I right, Mr. Morris?”

“You are, Barringford. Indians do not fight like European armies, and the French that know the wilderness won’t fight that way either,” answered Dave’s uncle.

A few days later Dave and Sam Barringford set off for the Creek settlement. Henry was now almost as well as ever and anxious to go with them, but his mother urged him to remain at home, at least for a little while longer.

All was bustle and excitement at Will’s Creek. Braddock wished to move forward without delay but found it next to impossible to get the necessary horses and wagons. Washington by his personal efforts obtained a few and then Benjamin Franklin, coming down from Philadelphia, obtained some more, by giving his personal security for them.

Franklin, wise and far-seeing, advised Braddock to be cautious during his march into the wilderness, stating that the Indians were sly and would ambuscade them were it possible to do so. To this Braddock answered that the Indians might do so with colonial troops but not with soldiers of the King’s army, moving in a solid body against them.

As the little army went forward, Braddock insisted upon making a first-class roadway and the result was that it was the middle of June before Little Meadows was reached. The army now consisted of the two English regiments, two colonial companies of pioneers, a company of guides, a company of Virginia light-horse, two small companies of New York militia, and a detachment of sailors, about two thousand men in all. There were also about half a hundred Indians, under Groghan, the pioneer, who was made a captain over them. Braddock treated the Indians with great ceremony but in secret he held the same contempt for their fighting qualities as he held for the fighting qualities of the colonists.

Little Meadows reached, the general was in perplexity and for once listened to Washington. He was furious over the continued delays and angry because the colonists did not do more to help him.

“I would advise that the main portion of our army go forward in light marching order,” said Washington. “A fair portion can remain behind to bring up the heavy baggage.”

Braddock thought it over and finally ordered the main body of the army to proceed. But each man was heavily equipped, with full knapsack, army blanket, and rifle, and the progress was not much better than before.

“At this rate, we’ll never get to Fort Duquesne,” said Dave, one day, when they had come to a halt at the ford over the Youghiogheny. “I wonder why General Braddock doesn’t push ahead and let the baggage come up when it can?”

“Because he’s a drill-room soldier,” growled Barringford. “He don’t know any more about fighting in the wilderness than I do of dancing at a royal ball. Fust thing you know we’ll be surrounded and then—wall, we’ll see what we will see, thet’s all.”

“Colonel Washington is down with a fever,” put in a soldier standing near. “I just heard that the general ordered him to stay here until he was better.”

“That’s too bad,” said Dave. “I wish he was in command. I’d feel safer than I do.”

“Don’t worry, we’re safe enough just yet,” answered Barringford. “General Braddock won’t let our troops go ahead. He wants his own regiments to lead the way.”

“He ought to throw out a good body of scouts,” put in another soldier, who knew the backwoods thoroughly. “For all we know the French and Indians may be all around us this minute.”

So the talk ran on, but no one dared to tell the general of what was passing in the minds of the pioneers. The army moved on, making for the Monongahela, and here a few days later Washington rejoined it, still weak but resolved to be at the front when the fighting took place. So anxious was he to be on the field that he wrote to a friend he would rather lose five hundred pounds than miss the coming battle.

The soldiers, as they crossed the river, with glittering swords and bayonets, made an imposing sight. The royal troops moved forward in solid platoons, with only a small vanguard of guides and skirmishers. As Washington saw the movement he could not resist speaking to Braddock again of the folly of sending soldiers into the wilderness in that form. He begged to be allowed to send the Virginia Rangers in advance.

“It will not be necessary,” was Braddock’s haughty answer. “The royal troops are capable of taking care of themselves.” And the march forward was resumed. To awe the enemy the general had had all uniforms and equipments cleaned the day before, so that everything shone as bright as a new silver dollar—making the better marks for the Indians siding with the French!

By two o’clock in the afternoon the main body of the army had reached a position seven or eight miles from Fort Duquesne. They had just left a plain about half a mile from the river bank and were ascending a rise through the forest. The royal troops were in advance, in two sections, the Virginia Rangers somewhat to the rear. A few guides were out, but not many, and the pioneers were kept at work opening up the road for the artillery.

On a sudden came a sharp firing from the front, at first a few scattered shots, and then several rattling volleys. Several of the vanguard were cut down instantly and the others came to a halt in dismay.

“The French and the Indians!” was the cry. “They are on us a thousand strong!” The firing continued, and the vanguard was driven back. In the meantime General Braddock ordered the main body of troops forward and went with them himself. The troops advanced in a solid body until the remnant of the vanguard was met and then came to a halt.

The enemy was in front and upon either side, but could scarcely be seen. From behind rocks and trees, and from the shelter of a nearby ravine, they poured a hot and murderous fire into the English, laying the grenadiers low with marvelous rapidity. Both the Indians and the French tried to pick off the officers and in this way succeeded, for of the number sixty-two out of eighty-six were killed or wounded.

At last Braddock’s eyes were opened to the blunder he had made, and riding around quickly he tried to form his men into separate companies and send them into the woods. But they were now panic-stricken and huddled together not knowing what to do or what to expect. Braddock raved at them and pleaded with them, but it was all in vain. His horses were shot from under him until five were gone, and then he tried to get his men into order for a retreat. Just at that moment a bullet passed through his right arm and lodged in his lungs. He pitched forward and was caught by a captain of the Virginia guard, and soon after carried to the rear, begging those who supported him to let him die where he had fallen.