Part 12

Washington was always fond of all athletic exercises, and as a lad delighted in riding the wildest horses on the plantation. Among these was one young colt of such a fiery temper that no one was allowed to mount him. One day, the temptation to do so became too strong for George, and he suddenly sprang upon the horse's back. The colt tried to throw him off, and, failing to do so, dashed off at such a rate that he burst a blood vessel and fell down dead.

Washington, dismayed at the result of his disobedience, went silently home. At table, his mother asked her guests if they had seen her beautiful young horse. Covered with blushes,--for he was always modest and reserved,--Washington now confessed what he had done. Although Mrs. Washington keenly regretted the death of the colt, she showed no anger, but quietly said: "It is well; but while I regret the loss of my favorite, I rejoice in my son, who always speaks the truth."

She was so fond of this son that when one of his half-brothers wanted him to serve in the British navy, she refused to let him go. As soon as Washington had finished school, he went to live with this brother at Mount Vernon, where he learned to know all the people around there, and, among others, Lord Fair´fax.

This nobleman owned great tracts of land in the valleys of the Alleghany Mountains, and as they had never been surveyed, he hired young George to do the work. This was a very hard task, and the seventeen-year-old Washington was often, for days at a time, far away from any settlement, forced to depend upon hunting for food, and obliged to sleep out in the open air.

These hardships, however, only made him strong and self-reliant, and when he came back to his home, from time to time, he doubly enjoyed the amusements of the young people, and danced gayly, a pastime of which he was always fond. It was probably during one of these surveying expeditions that Washington first visited the Natural Bridge in Virginia. Here he showed his athletic skill by tossing a coin on top of it when standing almost directly under it.

We are also told that he scaled the rocks, which were then free from any except nature's marks, and reaching a high point, carved his name in the stone. For years, Washington's name is said to have stood there on the rocks, as far above all the rest as is his worth compared with that of other men. But a young man once climbed up there to carve his name above Washington's, an act of presumption for which every one scorns him. He went up so far that he could not come down again, but had to climb higher and higher, and at last be drawn to the top with a rope.

LII. WASHINGTON'S JOURNEY.

By the time Washington was nineteen, he had shown himself so capable, honest, and thoroughly trustworthy that every one who knew him greatly respected him. His brother Lawrence having fallen ill of consumption, Washington went with him to Bar´ba-dos, where he had an attack of smallpox.

This journey, the only one Washington ever made outside the limits of our country, was so interesting to him that he kept a diary in which he made note of all he saw and heard. After a winter spent in the West Indies, Washington came home to get his sister-in-law; but before they could sail to join the invalid, they heard he was coming home to die.

Washington tenderly nursed this older brother to the end, and was made the guardian of his delicate little girl. Lawrence Washington said that if his daughter died unmarried, the estate of Mount Vernon was to belong to George. In spite of all Washington's tender interest in this little niece, and of the utmost care, she did not live long, and, as his brother had wished, Washington became owner of Mount Vernon. There he began his favorite occupation as a planter, and showed himself to be as careful and painstaking a farmer as he was a surveyor.

We are told he packed his tobacco himself, and sent such good flour to the West Indies that barrels marked "George Washington" were always allowed to pass the customhouse without being examined. Besides filling his place as surveyor and planter, Washington also became major in the Virginia militia, and took great interest in all military affairs.

When the news of the Frenchmen's purpose to build forts along the Allegheny and the Ohio reached Governor Din-wid´die, he resolved, as we have seen, to send out a trustworthy person to see if it was true, and to carry a letter to the commander of the French force (1753). His choice promptly fell upon Washington, who, receiving his instructions, and perceiving the need of haste, started out that same day to carry out the governor's orders.

He made his way across country to Logstown, where he heard that the French commanding officer was on an upper branch of the Allegheny River. He therefore went thither, and delivered his letter. But the Frenchman shrugged his shoulders, and said he would send the letter on to Governor Duquesne (doo-kān´), whose orders he was in the meantime bound to carry out. Tramping thus through the wilderness in the dead of winter, Washington found out all Governor Dinwiddie wished. Seeing he must hasten, if the French were to be checked, the young officer left his guides, baggage, and horses, and, alone with Gist,--an experienced hunter and trapper,--went back to Virginia by a short cut. During this journey he and Gist had several narrow escapes.

Once an Indian--who had probably been bribed by the French to kill them--shot at them. Gist and Washington, suspecting treachery, pretended it was only an accident; but when the Indian left them at night, promising to come back in the morning, they promptly broke camp. Pressing forward all night, they reached the Allegheny early in the morning, and found it only partly frozen. As they could not cross on the ice, as they had hoped, they plied their one dull hatchet with such a will that they soon cut down several trees and built a rude raft.

But when they got out into the stream, Washington's pole caught in the ice and jerked him out into ten feet of ice-cold water. Grasping the raft, Washington escaped; but his clothes were dripping wet, and a few moments later they were frozen stiff. The raft was now driven on an island, where Gist lighted a fire as quickly as possible; and here Washington spent the night, turning around and around so as to dry his clothes. Luckily, on the next day the travelers found that the ice was strong enough to bear them, and, crossing over to the other side of the river, they hurried on.

After visiting an Indian queen, with whom he made friends by giving her a few trinkets, Washington went on to Virginia, where he gave Governor Dinwiddie all the necessary information. The governor was so pleased with what Washington had done, and thought his news so important, that he published Washington's journal. Then, to carry out the orders he had received from England, and make sure the land south of the Ohio should not be snatched away from him, Dinwiddie raised a force of two hundred men, and sent them to build a fort at the forks of the Ohio. While these men were busy erecting their stockade, the French, one thousand strong, came down from Ve-nan´go, on the Allegheny, and, driving the English away, completed the fort for their own use, calling it Duquesne, after their governor.

LIII. WASHINGTON'S FIRST BATTLE.

When the Virginians learned that the French had driven their men away from the forks of the Ohio, and had taken possession of the fort they had just begun, they were naturally very angry. Seeing that they would lose all claim to the land unless they drove the French away, they now determined to raise enough men and money to equip an army. Before long, therefore, Washington was sent out with about three hundred men, and he was busy erecting a small breastwork (called Fort Necessity) at Great Meadows, when he heard that the French were near there.

Setting out immediately, he surprised and defeated this force; but learning that more troops were coming, he prudently retreated to Fort Necessity, at Great Meadows, which he once described as "a charming field for an encounter." Here the French and Indians soon attacked him in such numbers that, in spite of his valor, he was forced to surrender, on July 4, 1754. Washington's men had behaved so bravely that the French allowed them to march out with the honors of war; that is, taking their flag and their arms with them.

In describing this battle, Washington is reported to have said: "I heard the bullets whistle, and believe me, there is something charming in the sound." But later on, when he had seen what a sad thing war really is, and some one asked if he had ever said this, he quietly answered: "If I said so, it was when I was young!"

When Washington and his troops came back to Virginia after the battle at Great Meadows, the colonies saw that the French were fully determined to leave them no land west of the Alleghanies. They had felt so sure of this that a few weeks before the battle they sent men to Albany to discuss how they could best resist their enemies, and keep what they claimed as their own.

Still, in one sense, neither French nor English had any right to this land, for as a bewildered Indian chief remarked when he first heard of the dispute: "If the French claim all the land north of the river, and the English all the land south of it, where is the land of the Indians?"

LIV. STORIES OF FRANKLIN.

One man was to have a great share in the last French and Indian war, although he was no soldier. This man was Franklin, and as he is one of the greatest men in our history, it will surely interest you to hear a little about him.

Born in a poor family in Boston, the lad was named Benjamin, probably because he was his father's twelfth child. With so many brothers and sisters older than himself, Benjamin was not spoiled. As they were all very poor, he was often obliged, small as he was, to help his father make soap and dip tallow candles, a work he greatly disliked. But as there had been free schools in New England from the very beginning, Benjamin learned to read out of the New England Primer when only a tiny boy. He has told us many stories of himself; among others, one of his childhood which you ought to know, because it has given rise to an American proverb.

It seems that Benjamin once had a few pennies. This was a great fortune for so small a lad, and although his brothers and sisters teased him to know what he was going to buy with them, he would not tell. On the street, one day, he saw a big boy blowing a whistle with all his might. This whistle so fascinated little Benjamin that, after talking to its owner awhile, he gave all his pennies in exchange for the toy.

Marching home, Benjamin proudly exhibited his treasure, thinking he had made a great bargain and bought the finest thing in the world. His disappointment was very keen, therefore, when his brothers told him that it was only a common whistle, such as he could have bought anywhere for one penny! Ever since then, when any one pays too much for pleasure, or anything else, people have said: "He has paid dear, very dear, for his whistle."

As was the custom in all Puritan families, the Franklins had long prayers, and they said such a lengthy grace before meals that hungry little Benjamin often grew impatient. As their breakfasts generally consisted of smoked and dried herring, he once suggested that his father should say grace over the whole barrel, so that he need not stop to repeat it every time the fish was served!

Franklin's father was too poor to let him go on with his studies, so at twelve Franklin became apprentice to an older brother, the printer of the fourth newspaper issued in our country. Here Franklin learned to set type and to handle the rude press then in use. He also began to write, and as he did not want his brother to know it, he disguised his handwriting, and slipped his contributions under the shop door at night.

These articles, written by a boy of fourteen, proved so able that the brother read them aloud to his friends, who greatly praised them, little suspecting that they were written by the apprentice setting type in the corner. But Benjamin's elder brother proved so unkind to him that the boy left Boston at seventeen, and, embarking upon a coasting vessel, went to New York, where he vainly sought employment.

There he heard that work was to be had in Philadelphia, then the largest city in our country. A stage ran between that place and New York twice a week, making the journey in two days. This rate of travel seemed so very rapid then that this coach was generally called the "Flying Machine." But as Franklin did not have the means to pay for a seat in this conveyance, he embarked on a sloop, working his way. After several days' tacking, a long, weary tramp, and a row on the Delaware, he landed in Philadelphia early one morning.

By this time he had only a few pennies left, which, as he felt hungry, he soon gave to a baker for three large rolls. The small amount of luggage he had with him was thrust into his coat pockets, and with a roll under either arm, and one in his hand, Franklin strolled down the street, munching his bread as he walked along. A girl standing on her father's doorstep laughed at the awkward lad passing by, little thinking that a few years later she would be his wife.

Finding employment in Philadelphia, Franklin worked hard, studying as much as he could after hours. Every book he could buy or borrow was eagerly read, and he paid small sums to booksellers for the loan of their volumes overnight, sitting up late and rising early so as to get all he could out of them. Franklin loved books so dearly that he soon learned a great deal about foreign countries. He longed to visit them, and therefore gladly welcomed a proposal to go to England and buy a printing press.

As the governor of Pennsylvania promised to supply the necessary funds, Franklin set out; but upon landing in England he found that the governor had deceived him, and that there was no money to be had. Alone in a foreign land, without means or friends, Franklin again sought employment, and worked for an English printer during the next few years. By dint of hard work and great economy, he managed to save money enough to bring him back to Philadelphia, at the age of twenty. Then, after working as clerk and printer for a while, Franklin set up in business for himself, and married.

Besides printing a newspaper,--for which he wrote the articles, set the type, handled the press, and even carted the paper to his shop in a wheelbarrow,--Franklin soon began to publish a pamphlet called "Poor Richard's Almanac." It contained not only the usual information about sunrise and sunset, the moon, tide, and weather, but many short sayings, full of good advice. They were so easily remembered, and so often quoted, that some of them have become household sayings. A few are: "No gains without pains." "Never leave that till to-morrow which you can do to-day." "Time is money." "Keep conscience clear, then never fear."

You might think that Franklin was busy enough with all this work; still, he managed to learn a great deal besides French, German, Spanish, and Italian, which he studied alone and at night. He founded the first public library in Philadelphia, the University of Pennsylvania, and the first fire brigade, the first insurance company, and the first hospital in the city. Besides that, he invented the first good stove, advised paving the streets, and was constantly in political office from the time he was thirty until he died, at the age of eighty-four.

Franklin was so interested in sciences that he studied them closely, too; and in 1752, after thinking the matter over a long while, he decided that lightning must be the same thing as the electricity produced by rubbing a cat's fur. He therefore determined to bring lightning down from the clouds, to find out whether he was right. After many experiments, he built a kite, fastened a sharp point to it, and flew it one stormy day. He had taken all his measures so carefully that he thus really drew down some electric sparks from the sky.

As Franklin was a very practical man, he immediately made use of this knowledge to invent lightning rods for protecting churches and houses from thunderbolts. His discovery, ridiculed at first, soon became known abroad, and thus Franklin was the first American who won a European reputation.

Franklin's kite-flying paved the way for all the wonderful discoveries since made in electricity, many of which he then foretold, although people thought he was only joking. Indeed, we are told he even demonstrated the deadly effect of a live wire by killing a turkey on the other side of the river! When his discoveries became known in Europe, they created a great sensation, and the "Franklin experiments" were for a while all the fashion.

LV. BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT.

In 1754, Franklin, deputy postmaster-general of the colonies, was sent to Albany, where, as we have already seen, a congress of delegates from the colonies met to discuss the best way of opposing the French. Franklin, knowing that it was only by working all together that the best results could be reached, now made a plan for the union of the colonies.

As one can often make people understand things better by telling them stories or showing them pictures, Franklin remembered the common belief that a snake, cut into pieces, would become whole again if the parts were allowed to touch. He therefore placed at the head of his paper the picture of such a snake, cut into pieces to represent the colonies, which he further indicated by their initials. Under this picture he wrote the motto: "Join or die."

Although the colonies did not adopt Franklin's plan of union, they nevertheless voted men and money for the war. The British, on their part, sent over General Braddock, one of their best officers, to take charge of the campaign. Meeting the governors of the different colonies in Virginia, Braddock decided that, while one army marched north from Albany to take Forts Ti-con-der-o´ga and Crown Point before going on to Quebec, a second should move westward from the same point to Lake On-tā´ri-o and Niagara.

In the meantime, a fleet was to sail from New England to join the first army in besieging Quebec. But the fourth and principal expedition, led by Braddock himself, was to march across Pennsylvania to Fort Duquesne, so as to drive the French out of the coveted Ohio valley. This plan was very fine; but Braddock, used to the European way of fighting, little knew how to carry on war with the French and Indians in the pathless forests.

Washington now advised Braddock, his superior officer, to leave the heavy baggage and cannons behind; but the British general would not consent. After much delay, the Pennsylvania farmers loaned their wagons and horses to carry the baggage, thanks to Franklin's personal efforts, and the army set out. But as Braddock insisted upon the army's marching along in an orderly file, a road had first to be built, and Washington once impatiently said that they stopped "to level every molehill."

Washington knew it would be best to advance rapidly and surprise Fort Duquesne; but the army moved slowly until, at about eight miles from the fort, it was suddenly attacked by the French and Indians. The British soldiers, clad in red and marching in close ranks, made fine targets for their enemies, who, as usual, hid behind every tree and rock, whence they poured a deadly fire upon them. Braddock bravely rallied his men again and again; but not knowing how to fight unseen foes, they were helplessly slain. The general himself, after seeing great numbers of his men and officers fall, was mortally wounded, and had to order a retreat.

In the midst of this horrible scene, Washington and his Virginian soldiers alone kept cool. Four bullets passed through Washington's coat, and two horses were killed under him, for the Indians aimed specially at him. But all their bullets failed, and they afterwards said with awe that he surely bore a charmed life, and that no shot could ever touch him.

Nearly all the officers were killed, but Washington managed to cover the retreat of the British, and their wounded general was picked up and borne off the battlefield of the Mo-non-ga-he´la. Braddock was now full of remorse for not following Washington's advice, and he died four days later, saying: "Who would have thought it? Who would have thought it? We shall better know how to deal with them another time."

Washington sadly buried the brave general in the Pennsylvania woods, making the army march over his grave, so that no trace of upturned soil should betray to the Indians his last resting place. Then the beaten and disheartened troops slowly made their way back, encouraged by Washington, who, going afoot, shared all their hardships, and relieved the weary men by loading their muskets and baggage upon his own horse.

The army marching westward from Albany had, in the meantime, paused discouraged at Os-we´go, while the one moving northward beat the French on the shores of a lake, which they called George, in honor of the victory won for their king (1755). The French officer Dieskau (dees´kow) was captured there, and among the English dead was Ephraim Williams, who left his fortune to found the college in Massachusetts which bears his name.

Fearing that the Acadian farmers, who still spoke French and loved their mother country, would turn against them, the British now tried to make the peasants take an oath of fidelity. When they refused, the men and boys were bidden to assemble, and then, after some delay, they and their families were sent on board British ships and taken away (1755). In the confusion several families were separated.

Thus ruthlessly torn from home, the Acadians were scattered throughout the colonies. Many made their way to Louisiana, so as to be still under French rule; others escaped into the woods; and a few spent long years vainly seeking those they loved. If you care to learn how one girl wandered thousands of miles in quest of her lover, you should read Long´fel-low's beautiful poem "E-van´ge-line."

LVI. WOLFE AT QUEBEC.

Until 1756, the war between the French and the British raged only in America; but after that it broke out in Europe also, where it was known as the "Seven Years' War."

The French sent over Mont-calm´, one of their best generals, who, helped by the Indians, soon took and burned Oswego. Next, he captured Fort William Henry, which the Americans had just built; but he promised that the garrison should leave under safe escort (1757). His Indian allies, however, loath to see the foe depart unharmed, suddenly attacked them, and killed many. Montcalm bravely and vainly tried to stop this, crying: "Kill me, but spare the English who are under my protection."

This year of 1757 was, on the whole, a disastrous one for the British; but during the next, the tables were turned. The principal statesman in England was then William Pitt, a good friend to the American colonies. Knowing that, unless prompt measures were taken, the British would lose the main part of their possessions in America, Pitt sent over men with great stores of arms and money.

The British and American troops, properly equipped, now started out again to carry out Braddock's plan. This time, Forbes was in command, ably assisted by Washington, and they forced the French to abandon Fort Duquesne. Near its ruins the British built a stockade which was named Pittsburg, in honor of William Pitt.