Part 3

The day following much information was received, both from the front and the rear, vividly stated in the _Journal_ as follows:

“The Governor informs me that Capt. McKay, with an independent company of 100 men, excluding the officers, had arrived, and that we might expect them daily; and that the men from New-York would join us within ten days.

This night also came two _Indians_ from the _Ohio_ who left the French fort five days ago: They relate that the French forces are all employed in building their Fort, that it is already breast-high, and of the thickness of twelve feet, and filled with Earth, stones, etc. They have cut down and burnt up all the trees which were about it and sown grain instead thereof. The _Indians_ believe they were only 600 in number, although they say themselves they are 800. They expect a greater number in a few days, which may amount to 1600. Then they say they can defy the _English_.”

Arriving on the eastern bank of the Youghiogheny the next day, 18th, the river being too wide to bridge and too high to ford, Washington put himself “in a position of defence against any immediate attack from the Enemy” and went straightway to work on the problem of water transportation.

By the 20th., a canoe having been provided, Washington set out on the Youghiogheny with four men and an Indian. By nightfall they reached “Turkey Foot,” (Confluence, Pennsylvania,) which Washington mapped as a possible site for a fort. Below “Turkey Foot” the stream was found too rapid and rocky to admit any sort of navigation and Washington returned to camp on the 24th. with the herculean hardships of an overland march staring him in the face. Information was now at hand from Half-King, concerning alleged movements of the French; thus the letter read;

“To any of his Majesty’s officers whom this May Concern.

As ’tis reported that the French army is set out to meet M. George Washington, I exhort you my brethren, to guard against them, for they intend to fall on the first _English_ they meet; They have been on their march these two days, the Half-King and the other chiefs will join you within five days, to hold a council, though we know not the number we shall be. I shall say no more, but remember me to my brethren the English.

Signed The Half-King.”

At two o’clock of that same May day (24th.) the little army came down the eastern wooded hills that surrounded Great Meadows, and looked across the waving grasses and low bushes which covered the field they were soon to make classic ground. Immediately upon arriving at the future battle-field information was secured from a trader confirming Half-King’s alarming letter. Below the roadway, which passed the meadow on the hillside, the Lieutenant-Colonel found two natural intrenchments near a branch of Great Meadows run, perhaps old courses of the brook through the swampy land. Here the troops and wagons were placed.

Great Meadows may be described as two large basins the smaller lying directly westward of the larger and connected with it by a narrow neck of swampy ground. Each is a quarter of a mile wide and the two a mile and a half in length.

The old roadway descends from the southern hills, coming out upon the meadows at the eastern extremity of the western basin. It traverses the hill-side south of the western meadow. The natural intrenchments or depressions behind which Washington huddled his army on this May afternoon were at the eastern edge of the western basin. Behind him was the narrow neck of low-land which soon opened into the eastern basin. Before him to his left on the hillside his newly-made road crawled eastward into the hills. The Indian trail followed the edge of the forest westward to Laurel Hill, five miles distant, and on to Fort Duquesne.

On this faint opening into the western forest the little army and its youthful commander kept their eyes as the sun dropped behind the hills closing an anxious day and bringing a dreaded night. How large the body of French might have been, not one of the one hundred and fifty men knew. How far away they might be no one could guess. Here in this forest meadow the little van-guard slept on their arms, surrounded by watchful sentinels, with fifty-one miles of forest and mountain between them and the nearest settlement at Will’s Creek. The darkling forests crept down the hills on either side as though to hint by their portentous shadows of the dead and dying that were to be.

But the night waned and morning came. With increasing energy, as though nerved to duty by the dangers which surrounded him, the twenty-two year old commander Washington gave his orders promptly. A scouting party was sent on the Indian trail in search of the coming French. Squads were set to threshing the forest for spies. Horsemen were ordered to scour the country and keep look-out for the French from neighboring points of vantage.

At night all returned, none the wiser for their vigilance and labor. The French force had disappeared from the face of the earth! It may be believed that this lack of information did not tend to ease the intense strain of the hour. It must have been plain to the dullest that serious things were ahead. Two flags, silken emblems of an immemorial hatred, were being brought together in the Alleghenies. It was a moment of utmost importance to Europe and America. Quebec and Jamestown were met on Laurel Hill; and a spark struck here and now was to “set the world on fire.”

However clearly this may have been seen, Washington was not the man to withdraw. Indeed, the celerity with which he precipitated England and France into war made him a criticised man on both continents.

Another day passed--and the French could not be found. On the following day Christopher Gist arrived at Great Meadows with the information that M. la Force (whose tracks he had seen within five miles of Great Meadows) had been at his house, fifteen miles distant. Acting on this reliable information Washington at once dispatched a scouting party in pursuit.

The day passed and no word came to the anxious men in their trenches in the meadows. Another night, silent and cheerless, came over the mountains upon the valley, and with the night came rain. Fresh fears of strategy and surprise must have arisen as the cheerless sun went down.

Suddenly, at eight in the evening, a runner brought word that the French were run to cover! Half-King, while coming to join Washington, had found la Force’s party in “a low, obscure place.”

It was now time for a daring man to show himself. Such was the young commander at Great Meadows.

“That very moment,” wrote Washington in his _Journal_, “I sent out forty men and ordered my ammunition to be put in a place of safety, fearing it to be a stratagem of the French to attack our camp; I left a guard to defend it, and with the rest of my men set out in a heavy rain, and in a night as dark as pitch.”

Perhaps a war was never precipitated under stranger circumstances. Contrecoeur, commanding at Fort Duquesne, was made aware by his Indian scouts of Washington’s progress all the way from the Potomac. The day before Washington arrived at Great Meadows Contrecoeur ordered M. de Jumonville to leave Fort Duquesne with a detachment of thirty-four men, commanded by la Force, and go toward the advancing English. To the English (when he met them) he was to explain he had come to order them to retire. To the Indians he was to pretend he was “travelling about to see what is transacting in the King’s Territories, and to take notice of the different roads.” In the eyes of the English the party was to be an embassy. In the eyes of the Indians, a party of scouts reconnoitering. This is clear from the orders given by Contrecoeur to Jumonville.

Three days before, on the 26th, this “embassy” was at Gist’s plantation where, according to Gist’s report to Washington, they “would have killed a cow and broken everything in the house, if two _Indians_, whom he (Gist) had left in charge of the home, had not prevented them.”

From Gist’s la Force had advanced within five miles of Great Meadows, as Gist ascertained by their tracks on the Indian trail. Then--although the English commander was within an hour’s march--the French retraced their steps to the summit of Laurel Hill and, descending deep into the obscure valley on the east, built a hut under the lea of the precipice and rested from their labors. Here they remained throughout the 27th, while Washington’s scouts were running their legs off in the attempt to locate them and the young Lieutenant-colonel was in a fever of anxiety at their sudden, ominous disappearance. Now they were found.

What a march was that! The darkness was intense. The path, Washington wrote, was “scarce broad enough for one man.” Now and then it was lost completely and a quarter of an hour was wasted in finding it. Stones and roots impeded the way, and were made trebly treacherous by the torrents of rain which fell. The men struck the trees. They fell over each other. They slipped from the narrow track and slid downward through the soaking leafy carpet of the forests.

Enthusiastic tourists make the journey today from Great Meadows to the summit of Laurel Hill on the track over which Washington and his hundred men floundered and stumbled that wet May night a century and a half ago. It is a hard walk but exceedingly fruitful to one of imaginative vision. From Great Meadows the trail holds fast to the height of ground until Braddock’s Run is crossed near “Braddock’s Grave.” Picture that little group of men floundering down into this mountain stream, swollen by the heavy rain, in the utter darkness of that night! From Braddock’s Run the trail begins its long climb on the sides of the foot-hills, by picturesque Peddler’s Rocks, to the top of Laurel Hill, two thousand feet above.

Washington left Great Meadows about eight o’clock. It was not until sunrise that Half-King’s sentries at “Washington’s Spring,” saw the van-guard file out on the narrow ridge, which, dividing the headwaters of Great Meadow Run and Cheat River, made an easy ascent to the summit of the mountain. The march of five miles had been accomplished, with great difficulty, in a little less than two hours--or at the rate of _one mile in two hours_.

Forgetting all else for the moment, consider the young leader of this floundering, stumbling army. There is not another episode in all Washington’s long, eventful, life that shows more clearly his strength of personal determination and daring. Beside this all-night march from Great Meadows to Washington’s Spring, Wolf’s ascent to the Plains of Abraham at Quebec, was a past-time. The climb up from Wolf’s Cove (all romantic accounts and pictures to the contrary notwithstanding) was an exceedingly easy march up a valley that hardly deserved to be called steep. A child can run along Wolfe’s path at any point from top to bottom. A man in full daylight today, can walk over Washington’s five mile course to Laurel Hill in half the time the little army needed on that black night. If a more difficult ten-hour night march has been made in the history of warfare in America, who led it and where was it made? No feature of the campaign shows more clearly the unmatched, irresistible energy of this twenty-two-year-old boy. For those to whom Washington, the man, is “unknown,” there are lessons in this little briery path today of value far beyond their cost.

Whether Washington intended to attack the French before he reached Half-King is not known; at the Spring a conference was held and it was immediately decided to attack. Washington did not know and could not have known that Jumonville was an embassador. The action of the French in approaching Great Meadows and then withdrawing and hiding was not the behavior of an embassy. Half-King and his Indians were of the opinion that the French party entertained evil designs, and, as Washington afterwards wrote, “If we had been such fools as to let them (the French) go, they (the Indians) would never have helped us to take any other Frenchmen.”

Two scouts were sent out in advance; then, in Indian file, Washington and his men with Half-King and a few Indians followed and “prepared to surround them.”

Laurel Hill, the most westerly range of the Alleghenies, trends north and south through Pennsylvania. In Fayette county, about one mile on the summit northward from the National Road, lies Washington’s Spring where Half-King encamped. The Indian trail coursed along the summit northward fifteen miles to Gist’s. On the eastern side, Laurel Hill descends into a valley varying from a hundred to five hundred feet deep. Nearly two miles from the Spring, in the bottom of a valley four hundred feet deep, lay Jumonville’s “embassy.” The attacking party, guided by Indians, who had previously wriggled down the hillside on their bellies and found the French, advanced along the Indian trail and then turned off and began stealthily creeping down the mountain-side.

Washington’s plan was, clearly, to surround and capture the French. It is plain he did not understand the ground. They were encamped in the bottom of a valley two hundred yards wide and more than a mile long. Moreover the hillside on which the English were descending abruptly ended on a narrow ledge of rocks thirty feet high and a hundred yards long.

Coming suddenly out on the rocks, Washington leading the right division and Half-King the left, it was plain in the twinkling of an eye that it would not be possible to achieve a bloodless victory. Washington therefore gave and received first fire. It was fifteen minutes before the astonished but doughty French, probably now surrounded by Half-King’s Indians, were compelled to surrender. Ten of their number, including their “Embassador” Jumonville, were killed outright and one wounded. Twenty-one prisoners were taken. One Frenchman escaped, running half clothed through the forests to Fort Duquesne with the evil tidings.

“We killed,” writes Washington, “Mr. de Jumonville, the Commander of that party, as also nine others; we wounded one and made twenty-one prisoners, among whom were _M. la Force, and M. Drouillon_ and two cadets. The Indians scalped the dead and took away the greater part of their arms, after which we marched on with the prisoners under guard to the _Indian_ camp.... I marched on with the prisoners. _They informed me that they had been sent with a summons to order me to retire._ A plausible pretense to discover our camp and to obtain knowlege of our forces and our situation! It was so clear that they were come to reconnoiter what we were, that I admired their assurance, when they told me they were come as an Embassy; their instructions were to get what knowledge they could of the roads, rivers, and all the country as far as the Potomac; and instead of coming as an Embassador, publicly and in an open manner, they came secretly, and sought the most hidden retreats more suitable for deserters than for Embassadors; they encamped there and remained hidden for whole days together, at a distance of not more than five miles from us; they sent spies to reconnoiter our camp; the whole body turned back 2 miles; they sent the two messengers mentioned in the instruction, to inform M. de Contrecoeur of the place where we were, and of our disposition, that he might send his detachments to enforce the summons as soon as it should be given. Besides, an Embassador has princely attendants, whereas this was only a simple petty _French_ officer, an Embassador has no need of spies, his person being always sacred: and seeing their intention was so good, why did they tarry two days at five miles distance from us without acquainting me with the summons, or at least, with something that related to the Embassy? That alone would be sufficient to excite the strongest suspicions, and we must do them the justice to say, that, as they wanted to hide themselves, they could not have picked out better places than they had done. The summons was so insolent, and savored of so much Gasonade that if it had been brought openly by two men it would have been an excessive Indulgence to have suffered them to return.... They say they called to us as soon as they had discovered us; which is an absolute falsehood, for I was then marching at the head of the company going towards them, and can positively affirm, that, when they first saw us, they ran to their arms, without calling, as I must have heard them had they so done.”

In a letter to his brother, Washington wrote “I fortunately escaped without any wound; for the right wing where I stood, was exposed to, and received all the enemy’s fire; and it was the part where the man was killed and the rest wounded. I heard the bullets whistle; and, believe me, there is something charming in the sound.” The letter was published in the London Magazine. It is said George II. read it and commented dryly: “He would not say so if he had been used to hear many.” In later years Washington heard too much of the fatal music, and once, when asked if he had written such rodomontade, is said to have answered gravely, “If I said so, it was when I was young.” Aye, but it is memorials of that daring, young Virginian, to whom whistling bullets were charming, that we seek in the Alleghenies today. We catch a similar glimpse of this ardent, boyish spirit in a letter written from Fort Necessity later. Speaking of strengthening the fortifications Washington writes: “We have, with nature’s assistance, made a good entrenchment, and by clearing the bushes out of these meadows, prepared a charming field for an encounter.” Over and above the anxieties with which he was ever beset there shines out clearly the exuberance of youthful zest and valor--soon to be hardened and quenched by innumerable cares and heavy responsibilities.

Thus the first blow of that long, bloody, seven year’s war was struck by the red-uniformed Virginians under Washington, at the bottom of that Allegheny valley. He immediately returned to Great Meadows and sent eastward to the belated Fry for reinforcements. On the 30th, the French prisoners were sent eastward to Virginia, and the construction of a fort was begun at Great Meadows, by erecting “small palisades.” This was completed by the following day, June 1st. Washington speaks of this fort in his Journal as “Fort Necessity” under date of June 25th. The name suggests the exigencies which led to its erection; lack of troops and provisions. On June 2nd Washington wrote in his Journal: “We had prayers in the Fort”; the name Necessity may not have been used at first. On the 6th Gist arrived from Will’s Creek bringing the news of Colonel Fry’s death from injuries sustained by being thrown from his horse. Thus the command now devolved upon Washington who had been in actual command from the beginning. On the 9th the remainder of the Virginia regiment arrived from Will’s Creek, with the swivels, under Colonel Muse. On the day following Captain Mackaye arrived with the independent company of South Carolinians.

This reinforcement put a new face on affairs, and it is clear that the new Colonel commanding secretly hoped to capture Fort Duquesne forthwith. The road was finished to Great Meadows. For two weeks, now, the work went on completing it as far as Gist’s, on Mount Braddock. In the meantime a sharp lookout for the French was maintained and spies were continually sent toward Fort Duquesne. Among all else that taxed the energies of the young Colonel was the Indian question. At one time he received and answered a deputation of Delawares and Shawanese which he knew was sent by the French. Yet the answer of this youth to the “treacherous devils,” as he calls them in his private record of the day, was as bland and diplomatic as that of Indian Chieftain bred to hypocrisy and deceit. He put little faith in the redskins, but made good use of those he had as spies. He also did all in his power to restrain the vagrant tribes from joining the French, and offered to all who came or would come to him a hospitality he could ill afford.

On the 28th the road was completed to Gist’s, and eight of the sixteen miles from Gist’s to the mouth of Redstone Creek. On this day the scouts brought word of reinforcements at Fort Duquesne and of preparations for sending out an army. Immediately Washington summoned Mackaye’s company from Fort Necessity, and the building of a fort was begun by throwing up entrenchments on Mount Braddock. All outlying squads were called in. But on the 30th, fresher information being at hand, it was decided at a council of war to retreat to Virginia rather than oppose the strong force which was reported to be advancing up the Monongahela.

The consternation at Fort Duquesne upon the arrival of that single, barefoot fugitive from Jumonville’s company can be imagined. Relying on the pompous pretenses of the embassadorship and desiring to avoid an indefensible violation of the Treaty of Utrecht--though its spirit and letter were “already infringed by his very presence on the ground”--Contrecoeur (one of the best representatives of his proud King that ever came to America) assembled a council of war and ordered each opinion to be put in writing. Mercier gave moderate advice; Coulon-Villiers, half-brother of Jumonville, burning with rage, urged violent measures. Mercier prevailed, and an army of five hundred French and as many, or more, Indians, among whom were many Delawares, formerly friends of the English, was raised to march and meet Washington. At his request, the command was given to Coulon-Villiers--_Le Grande Villiers_, so called from his prowess among the Indians. Mercier was second in command. This was the army before which Washington was now slowly, painfully, retreating from Mount Braddock toward Virginia.

It was a sad hour--that in which the Virginian retreat was ordered by its daring Colonel, eager for a fight. But, even if he secretly wished to stay and defend the splendid site on Mount Braddock where he had entrenched his army, the counsel of older heads prevailed. It would have been better had the army stuck to those breastworks--but the suffering and humiliation to come was not foreseen.

Backward over the rough, new road, the little army plodded, the Virginians hauling the swivels by hand. Two teams and a few pack-horses were all that remained of horse-flesh equal to the occasion. Even Washington and his officers walked. For a week there had been no bread. In two days Fort Necessity was reached, where, quite exhausted, the little army went into camp. There were only a few bags of flour here. It was plain, now, that the retreat to Virginia was ill-advised. Human strength was not equal to it. So there was nothing to do but send post-haste to Will’s Creek for help. But, if strength were lacking--there was courage and to spare! For after a “full and free” conference of the officers it was determined to enlarge the stockade, strengthen the fortifications, and await the enemy, whatever his number or power.