it would be impossible to hold out long against their adversaries, for the latter could starve them into submission in a short time, and, as the terms proposed were honorable, he accepted them. He and his band were allowed to march out of the fort with drums beating and colors flying, and retire without molestation to the settlements, taking everything with them but the artillery. Washington, on the other hand, agreed to restore the prisoners taken in his attack on Jumonville, and not build any more forts west of the mountains for a year. These articles, when they were afterward published, were severely criticised. They contained things Washington should not have consented to, and of which he was entirely ignorant at the time of the capitulation. The Dutch interpreter had intentionally, or through ignorance, deceived him. When he returned with the articles of capitulation it was raining so heavily, that a candle could with great difficulty be kept burning while he gave a free translation. Under the circumstances a written translation could not be made, and Washington had to depend on the faithfulness of the verbal one. In this nothing was said respecting the erection of forts "west of the Alleghanics," but the specification on that point was rendered not to attempt building or improvements on the lands belonging to the French king. To this general promise there could be no objection, as no limits were designated. Again, in the written articles the "death of Jumonville" was called an "assassination;" while the interpreter used the former expression in translating them.

Twelve of Washington's command were killed and fortythree wounded. The former he buried in the forest, and with the latter took up his weary march back to the settlements.

The governor and council approved his course, and the House of Burgesses, when it assembled, passed a vote of thanks to him and his officers.

Washington rejoined his regiment at Alexandria, where he was ordered to fill up the diminished companies and march to Will's creek, to join Colonel Innies, who was then building Fort Cumberland. In short the ardent governor had planned a winter campaign, in a country where there were no roads, no supplies, no forts, expecting it to be carried forward by troops without arms, ammunition, provisions or tents. Washington told him the thing was absolutely impossible, and the order was countermanded.

The Assembly when it met voted twenty thousand pounds for the public service. This, with ten thousand sent over by the English government, put Dinwiddie in funds again, and he set about enlarging the army, by the addition of ten companies of a hundred men each. These were to be independent, and the officers of them to rank those of the same grade in the Virginia regiment, while the highest officers of the latter were reduced to captains. Resenting this degradation as a personal insult, Washington threw up his commission and left the army.

Shortly after, Governor Sharpe of Maryland, being appointed commander-in-chief of the forces destined to act against the French, solicited Washington to take his place again in the army, hinting that he might retain his old commission. The latter took fire at this, and wrote a tart reply to the governor, saying, "If you think me capable of holding a commission that has neither rank nor emolument annexed to it, you must entertain a very contemptible opinion of my weakness, and believe me to be more empty than the commission itself."

It was with deep regret that he gave up his profession, for he was exceedingly attached to it, and was ambitious of military distinction, He did not, however, long remain idle, for the next spring [March 15th, 1754] General Braddock arrived from England, with two regiments of regular troops. These were expected to crush all opposition and

sweep the French from the frontiers. Washington, who had thus far effected all that had been done, was requested by Braddock to form one of his staff, holding his former rank in the army. To this he acceded, solely, as he avowed, for the purpose of serving his country; for he expected no emoluments, whatever the result of the expedition might be, as he had resolved to accept no commission from Braddock.

The march of this army of more than two thousand men was looked upon as the forerunner of the certain and utter destruction of the French, and a subscription paper was actually circulated in Philadelphia to raise money for the celebration of the victory on its return.

Washington joined it at Winchester, and was received in a flattering manner by the officers. The army then started for the interior, and reached Will's creek about the middle of May. Soon after Washington was sent to Williamsburg to procure money. On his return the main body was put in motion, advancing slowly, dragging its artillery with difficulty over the uneven roads, and stretching for four miles through the forest, as if on purpose to invite an attack. Washington urged on Braddock the necessity of greater dispatch, and began already to feel uneasiness at the unwieldiness of this straggling army; he even gave up his own horse to assist in transporting the baggage.

At last he was taken sick with a fever, which raged with more or less violence for fourteen days. At the expiration of that time, he endeavored to overtake the army. Unable to sit on a horse, he rode in a covered wagon, but the jolting so distressed him that he was compelled to stop on the road, under the charge of a guard. His restlessness under this delay was very great, and nothing but the solemn promise of General Braddock that he should be brought up before the attack on the French at Fort Du Quesne was made, quieted him. To have the finishing bat

tle take place and he not present, was a thought he could not endure.

At length, though in a weak, exhausted condition, he came up with the army, on the last of June, at the Great Crossing, a few days before the battle of Monongahela. On the morning of the 9th of July, Braddock forded the Monongahela, just below the junction of the Youghogany, and moved in beautiful order, to the sound of stirring music, along the bank of that quiet stream-the scarlet uniforms of the soldiers contrasting richly with the wealth of green on every side. As Washington's eye fell on this military pageant, new to him, and saw nearly two thousand bayonets flashing in the morning sunbeams, and moving in steady undulations over the plain, as to the tread of a single man, while the summer forest echoed to the roll of the drum and bugle blast, his young heart kindled with enthusiasm, and he declared it was the most glorious spectacle he ever beheld.

About noon the army again waded the Monongahela, and began to move over the triangle toward the forks of the two rivers, where, seven miles distant, they united to form the Ohio. A detachment of three hundred and fifty men, under Lieutenant-Colonel Gage, was sent in advance, attended by a working party of two hundred and fifty more. Braddock followed with the artillery, the main army, and baggage. The French had selected an admirable place for an ambuscale. A gentle slope, gashed by two ravines that extended fron to bottom on either side, covered with trees and long grass, furnished a secure hiding place, while at the same time, it enabled them to pour a double flank fire on the ascending force. Suddenly, while Gage was moving up this gentle slope, along a path only twelve feet wide, a close and deadly volley smote his uncovered ranks. Volley after volley followed in quick succession, and encircled with fire, rolling on them from an unseen foe, the

soldiers broke and fled down the hill, Falling on the artil lery and baggage, struggling up from below, they threw these into confusion also. Braddock endeavored in vain to restore order. The fire, which seemed to issue from the bowels of the earth, closed on them closer and deadlier every moment, and the ranks melted away like frost-work. The Virginia regiment wished to take to the trees, and fight the Indians in their own fashion, but Braddock forbade them and endeavored to form close columns, which only allowed death to traverse his ranks with more rapid footsteps. Confused by this new mode of fighting, and by the unearthly yells of the Indians, the regular troops lost all discipline-they fired wildly, without seeing the enemy, and would not obey their officers. A few discharges of grape up those ravines would have forced the enemy from their place of concealment, or a single steady charge of bayonets, scattered the Indians in affright. But neither was done, and for more than two hours those bewildered troops were held by their officers to that fatal spot, only to be shot down. Braddock had five horses killed under him in succession, and at length was hurled to the ground by a ball through his lungs. The officers struggled bravely, charging together like common infantry, to stimulate their followers to bear up against the storm, and presented a sublime spectacle of devotion or that ill-fated field. Braddock's two aids were borne wounded from the battle, leaving Washington alone to distribute orders. Here his military qualities shone forth in their greatest splendor. Though pale and feeble, he forgot his exhausted condition in the excitement of the moment, and with his fine face lit up with the fire of enthusiasm, he galloped through the disordered host, his tall form presenting a constant mark to the sharp-shooters, whose bullets rattled like hail-stones around him. Men were falling on every side, almost entire companies at a time, yet reckless of danger he spurred his