referred to, advanced from the French camp, it did not move directly to Washington's position, approach under cover of a flag of truce, deliver its message, as it could and would have done had its ostensible mission been its real one; on the contrary, De Jumonville kept his men in the vicinity, but, as he supposed, concealed from the English commander. He bore with him instructions to observe the position, force, and armament of the English, and return tidings to his superior, and this he did, as the trail of the two couriers, which finally betrayed him, clearly shows. There can be no question that he came first on an errand of observation-that he was a spy; second, the evidence indicates that, had circumstances promised success, he was prepared to attack the main body of Washington's force, or any portion of it that fell in his way; third, that the letter demanding the withdrawal of the English force was intended for the very purpose it was made to serve,—as a shield in case of capture. The matter of the mistranslated phrase in the capitulation, has already been explained; on the face of it, it is not likely that Washington, opposed by a vastly superior force, with defeat and annihilation staring him in the face, would have twice sent back a messenger, bearing terms of capitulation which he refused to accept, by reason of some matter of detail or military etiquette, only to knowingly accede to the terms of a third that branded him as a murderer. Upon Washington's return from the campaign he received a vote of commendation and thanks from the Virginia House of Burgesses, which body had all the facts in the case before it; this fact alone clearly indicates the contemporary opinion of his action, as expressed by a body which had shown anything but a warlike spirit. Washington himself gave an answer clear, pointed, and decisive, to the imputation placed upon him, before the stigma had had time to attach. In a letter to a friend he reviewed the occurrences of the expedition, and so thoroughly cleared himself from all blame that even his enemies were for the time silenced, and did not venture to revive the charges, until the lapse of years had, as they supposed, caused the facts to be forgotten. What was said, or thought, of Washington, by such of his contemporaries as could not endure his success, is of little consequence -the misfortune is that French, and some later English, historians have perpetuated what was originally but a calumny, invented by political enemies, and that, among American historians, some have been found ready to become the apologists of what they assume to have been Washington's "youthful indiscretion," rather than his champions-when the act which is made the foundation of this adverse criticism, was clearly justified by the circumstances.

During the winter that followed the return of the little force from the Duquesne campaign, a serious affront was offered to the officers of the colonial troops by an order "settling the rank of officers of his majesty's forces, when serving with the provincials of North America." The salient

force reached Winchester, after great hardships, and was ordered to remain there and recruit. Washington, after making his report, hastened to Mount Vernon to attend to his business, which had been sadly neglected. The intrinsic importance of this unfortunate and abortive expedition was perhaps not such as, in itself, to warrant the somewhat minute account here given, but in other respects-in its effect in molding the mind of the young commander, in the experience which it gave him in managing men, in meeting and overcoming difficulties, and in the addition to the hardening process already well begun in the course of his earlier frontier life, its value was incalculable. The expedition was an admirable preparation for the experiences through which Washington was destined to pass during the war of Independence; then, as later, he led a small force against one vastly greater in number; a body of raw recruits against an army having every advantage of discipline; an ill equipped, poorly armed, hungry, tattered body of men, against one in every such particular the reverse of his own. He had, too, much the same obstacies arising from incompetency among his fellow officers, jealousy and questions of precedence cropping out at moments of supreme peril; imbecility and lack of encouragement on the part of governors and legislators-the same weary and disheartening catalogue of troubles and dangers to face, and in the midst of it all, then as twenty years later, he was firm, self-contained, brave, modest, self-denying, and Godfearing, and, considering the stake, the smallness of the forces engaged and the limited opportunities for distinction, the boy of twenty-two, who brought his handful of men in safety from the perils that menaced it at Fort Necessity, was deserving of no less honor than he who cheered, sustained, and kept coherent the freezing and starving army at Valley Forge.

Another and historically more important view of the expedition, arises from the attacks then at intervals, and for years afterward, made upon the character and discretion of Washington, by reason of the affair in which Captain De Jumonville lost his life. The fact that La Force, the French emissary, had upon his person, when captured, letters demanding the withdrawal of the English force from the territory to the west of the Alleghanies, was at the time urged by the prisoner, and has since been distorted by enemies of Washington, to indicate that De Jumonville and his party were bound upon a peaceful mission to Washington, and that the attack upon them was a breach of military rules, and precipitated a bloody war. Let us glance at the circumstances. But a few days before, a party of Virginians, working in the construction of the fort near the confluence of the Allegheny and Monongahela, had been compelled, under threat of armed attack, to retire from the fort and from the neighborhood. This was an act of war, and began the struggle as definitely as if it had been preceded by a formal declaration, and had resulted in the loss of a hundred lives. Then, when the force commanded by De Jumonville, bearing the letter

referred to, advanced from the French camp, it did not move directly to Washington's position, approach under cover of a flag of truce, deliver its message, as it could and would have done had its ostensible mission been its real one; on the contrary, De Jumonville kept his men in the vicinity, but, as he supposed, concealed from the English commander. He bore with him instructions to observe the position, force, and armament of the English, and return tidings to his superior, and this he did, as the trail of the two couriers, which finally betrayed him, clearly shows. There can be no question that he came first on an errand of observation—that he was a spy; second, the evidence indicates that, had circumstances promised success, he was prepared to attack the main body of Washington's force, or any portion of it that fell in his way; third, that the letter demanding the withdrawal of the English force was intended for the very purpose it was made to serve,— —as a shield in case of capture. The matter of the mistranslated phrase in the capitulation, has already been explained; on the face of it, it is not likely that Washington, opposed by a vastly superior force, with defeat and annihilation staring him in the face, would have twice sent back a messenger, bearing terms of capitulation which he refused to accept, by reason of some matter of detail or military etiquette, only to knowingly accede to the terms of a third that branded him as a murderer. Upon Washington's return from the campaign he received a vote of commendation and thanks from the Virginia House of Burgesses, which body had all the facts in the case before it; this fact alone clearly indicates the contemporary opinion of his action, as expressed by a body which had shown anything but a warlike spirit. Washington himself gave an answer clear, pointed, and decisive, to the imputation placed upon him, before the stigma had had time to attach. In a letter to a friend he reviewed the occurrences of the expedition, and so thoroughly cleared himself from all blame that even his enemies were for the time silenced, and did not venture to revive the charges, until the lapse of years had, as they supposed, caused the facts to be forgotten. What was said, or thought, of Washington, by such of his contemporaries as could not endure his success, is of little consequence -the misfortune is that French, and some later English, historians have perpetuated what was originally but a calumny, invented by political enemies, and that, among American historians, some have been found ready to become the apologists of what they assume to have been Washington's "youthful indiscretion," rather than his champions-when the act which is made the foundation of this adverse criticism, was clearly justified by the circumstances.

During the winter that followed the return of the little force from the Duquesne campaign, a serious affront was offered to the officers of the colonial troops by an order "settling the rank of officers of his majesty's forces, when serving with the provincials of North America." The salient

Yet a few words as to General Braddock's personal peculiarities may not be amiss, for to them, more than to any other reasons, may be ascribed the disastrous result of what might otherwise have been a brilliantly successful expedition. General Braddock was, by nature and training, a martinet; his especial standing in the English army was due to his reputation as a disciplinarian; he believed, -as did many others, until the American revolution proved their mistake,—that, against provincial levies and Indian auxiliaries, alike, the British regular was invincible. He believed that a mountain campaign in America would succeed, if conducted on the principles applied in holiday manœuvres in Hyde Park. The contempt which he felt for provincials and Indians could not be limited to his enemies; provincials and Indians were a portion of his own force. This undervaluation of American auxiliaries led him to reject offers of service from white scouts, and to ignore the counsels of Indian allies, thus offending both, and losing an effective defensive arm, that would have protected his force from disastrous surprise, and perhaps have allowed him to dictate the terms of battle with the French at Duquesne, as he might have done at Versailles, had his service led him thither. It was to such a general that Washington, the practical and experienced, but unscientific young officer, was attached.

From the first, the young Virginian, undazzled by the magnificent military display and perfect drill of the regulars, was appalled at the plan of operations adopted. In spite of the fact that a practicable military road had been made, during the previous year, extending from the eastern base of the Alleghanies almost to Fort Duquesne, Braddock insisted upon proceeding by a different route, and making a road as he went. Although his march must necessarily extend, a slender line, four miles in length, through a densely wooded, steep, and difficult country-though he was advised by those fitter to judge than he that he would be constantly dogged and menaced by bands of Indians, and that his line was, at any time, liable to be attacked and cut from an ambuscade, he insisted upon proceeding as if he were conducting an expedition in the heart of civilized Europe; rejected the advice of Benjamin Franklin, Washington, and others; refused to effect the curtailment of his line by ordering his officers to diminish their baggage to the actual essentials of the campaign, and rejected-almost repulsed— the offers of assistance from whites and Indians, who would, as has been said, if invited to serve, have protected his flanks and allowed him to form his troops before the French fort, with all the formality dear to his heart.

Braddock marched from Alexandria on the 20th of April; reaching Fort Cumberland, he remained until the 20th of June, awaiting transportation for his baggage and equipage-then he set out, dragging along at a snail's pace, his four thousand men finding it impossible to make much headway against the difficulties of mountain road making. Before long the general was compelled to swallow his pride and appeal to Washington for advice. This

Washington modestly gave. The garrison of the fort was known to be weak, and French reinforcements were supposed to be coming. He urged that twelve hundred men be detached, stripped of all impedimenta, and advanced by forced marches, to strike an effective blow at the fort before its defense could be strengthened. The remainder of the force, guarding the baggage and supplies, could follow, and be on the ground in time to resist any retaliatory attack.

On the 19th of June, the advance expedition set out; but, in equipment and spirit, it was little calculated to succeed; the officers could not be induced to greatly diminish the amount of their baggage, and it was, consequently, not much less cumbrous than that of the united force had been. Washington wrote of the affair, after it was over: "I found that, instead of pushing with vigor, without regarding a little rough road, they were halting to level every molehill, and to build bridges over every brook, by which means we were four days in getting twelve miles." General Braddock commanded this advance in person, and it was with great regret that Washington, who had been ill for nearly a week, and compelled by weakness to leave his horse and ride in a wagon, succumbed to the hardship of these arduous twelve miles, and dropped out of the line to await the arrival of the rear guard, and to obtain the medical treatment and the rest that he felt to be essential to his recovery. A guard and a physician were left with him, and he obtained a promise from Braddock that he should be brought up with the advance, in time to participate in any attack that might be made upon Fort Duquesne.

The illness of Washington continued, and it was not until the 3d day of July that he was deemed sufficiently mended to set out in an army wagon with the advance force of the rear guard, which had just come up. Even this long delay did not, however, prevent his reaching Braddock's immediate force before its snail-like march was quite ended. The detachment had been a month on the march, and had traveled but little more than a hundred miles, when Washington rejoined his general on the 8th of July, at his camp on the east bank of the Monongahela, and fifteen miles from Fort Duquesne. It had already been determined to attack the fort as soon as the troops could be sent forward for the purpose, and the morning of the following day-the 9th-was set for the advance. Thus Washington was just in time to participate in the expected attack, and, though weak from long illness and his trying wagon trip, he was early in the saddle, and reported for duty. The plan of Braddock was to move his men by a ford near the camp, to the west bank of the river, march some five miles down the stream and recross by a second ford. The advance was ordered forward before daylight to cover the second ford while the main body should cross. The men moved off, as if for a parade, marching in a long and entirely unguarded line-their colors flying and band playing. Washington could