Braddock's action as bravely as though he really loved the whistling of bullets."

Either Washington's conduct during this campaign has been most imperfectly given, or he at this early age possessed that strange power over others which later in life formed one of his great characteristics. He was only a provincial officer and a volunteer, and it was not merely because he behaved gallantly in battle, like all the rest, that his dying commander bequeathed to him his faithful servant, or that his superiors selected him as the most fitting officer to act as chaplain. His bearing, language, actions, all must have possessed extraordinary attractions.

Disgusted with the ignominious termination of Braddock's campaign, still feeble and wasted from his five weeks' fever, followed, as it had been, by such exhausting labors and mental anxiety, Washington hailed the quiet retreat of Mount Vernon with the pleasure that the long tost mariner greets the sight of land. Nothing but a frame of prodigious strength, and a constitution to match it, could have carried him through what he had undergone. But on the tranquil shores of the Potomac, his health gradually recruited, yet for a time he seemed little inclined to enter again the stormy scenes into which he had been thrown for the last two years. He was now but twenty-three years of age, and yet had passed through vicissitudes and trials sufficient for a lifetime.

He was not, however, long allowed to lay becalmed in the bay where he had sought shelter. His conduct in the battle of Monongahela, coupled with his former services, made him the most marked military man in the colony, and pointed him out as the proper leader of its forces.

The Assembly was in session at this time, in Williamsburg, and several of the members, one being his elder brother, wrote him, requesting his presence there, as it would facilitate a plan they had formed to get him the

appointment of commander-in-chief of the forces of the colony. To these invitations Washington replied, that if there were no other reasons to prevent his complying, his health alone would be a sufficient excuse, as it was with the utmost difficulty he could ride over his different plantations. To his brother he wrote that he was always willing to render his country any service he was capable of, but never upon the terms he had done-impairing his fortune, and ruining the "best of constitutions," and receiving nothing but neglect in return. Said he, "I was employed to go a journey in the winter, when I believe few or none would have undertaken it-and what did I get by it? My expenses borne! I then was appointed, with trifling pay, to conduct a handful of men to the Ohio. What did I get by that? Why, after putting myself to a considerable expense in equipping and providing necessaries for the campaign, I went out, was soundly beaten, and lost them all! came in and had my commission taken from me, or in other words, my command reduced, under pretence of an order from home! I then went out a volunteer with General Braddock, lost all my horses, and many other things. But this being a voluntary act, I ought not to have mentioned it, nor should I have done it, were it not to show that I have been on the losing order ever since I entered the service, which is now nearly two years. A sorry picture, truly, of his past experience; and the young and fiery commander, now thoroughly aroused, will have nothing more to do with a government so reckless of his rights and so destitute of common justice. His indignation at the course it has pursued, at length finds utterance, and he will no longer be made the plaything of power.

To Warner Lewis, another member who had written him on the same subject, he declared he would never accept the command if tendered, unless something certain was secured to him, and he was allowed to designate who should be his

subordinate officers. He would not again put himself in positions where his life and honor depended on the behavior of his officers, unless he could have the selection of them. A small military chest, he also considered indispensable to the proper management of military affairs.

In the meantime, however, his appointment had been made out. Forty thousand pounds were voted for the public service; three hundred pounds to Washington, and appropriate sums to the subordinate officers. It was resolved to increase the Virginia regiment to sixteen companies, and grant to Washington all that he had demanded, besides giving him an aid-de-camp and secretary. As soon as the news of his appointment reached him, he set off for Williamsburg, notwithstanding his feeble health, to consult with the governor about future operations. He was too sick to ride a hundred and sixty miles to beg for office, but not to fulfill its duties when given him. He was too sick in the Alleghany mountains to have traveled back to his home, where he could find comfort and gool nursing, but not too sick to hurry forward to the battle of Monongahela, and rage like a lion over the lost field. He never was too sick to do his duty or to save his country.

Having settled upon a plan with the governor, Washington immediately made every department of the military organization of the state feel his energy. Fixing his headquarters at Winchester, he sent out recruiting officers to fill up his regiment, the estimates of which he sent to the governor, and then once more turned his horse's head toward the Alleghany mountains, which from boyhood had been the scene of his thrilling adventures. Once more, elate with hope, he entered their rugged passes, and going from post to post, visited every one on the frontier from Fort Dinwiddie, on Jackson's river, to Fort Cumberland. He observed every thing, learned every thing to be gained, and ssued orders to each in turn. He then started for Wil

liamsburg, to consult with the governor, but had proceeded only a part of the way when he was overtaken by an express declaring that the Indians had suddenly burst upon the settlements, murdered the inhabitants, blocked up the rangers in small fortresses, and were spreading devastation and terror on every side. He immediately galloped back to Winchester, summoned the militia, called on the recruits to hasten to head-quarters, and soon had a respectable force under his command. The report, however, was exaggerated, but nothing could allay the terror of the inhabitants, who swarmed in droves across the valley between the Blue Ridge and the Alleghanies; many not stopping till they had put the last mountain barrier between them and the enemy.

The colonies, at this early period, were so tenacious of their liberties, that very little power was given to the commander over the militia or civil authorities. The evil of this Washington soon felt in the insubordination of his troops, and the stubborn refusal of the settlers to assist him in transporting his men and baggage. He was compelled to impress wagons and men into the service, and enforce every order by his "own drawn sword" over the head of the delinquent, or by the bayonets of a party of his soldiers. This so exasperated the inhabitants that they threatened to̟ blow out his brains. He, however, by his strong arm, kept down both open mutiny and rebellion, and pushed forward his plans with all the energy he possessed. Meanwhile [Oct. 11th, 1755,] he wrote to the governor, detailing the difficulties under which he labored, and requesting that more power should be delegated to the commander-in-chief. While things were in this disordered state, there came on Saturday night an express, panting with fear and exhaustion, announcing that a party of Indians were only twelve miles off, driving the frightened inhabitants from their dwellings. Washington immediately strengthened the

town-guards and ordered the troops to be armed, while he sent out two scouts to give notice of the approach of the savages. At daylight a second express arrived, "ten times more terrified than the former," declaring that the Indians were within four miles of the town, "killing and destroying all before them;" that he had heard the shrieks and cries of the murdered. The whole place was immediately thrown into the wildest commotion. Washington, hastily collecting forty men, sallied forth and marched rapidly toward the place where this scene of carnage was transpiring. As he approached it he heard the firing of guns, and shouts and horrid imprecations. But on advancing nearer he discovered that all this uproar was caused by "three drunken soldiers of the light-horse," who, in the midst of their debauch, amused themselves by uttering blasphemies and firing their pistols in the air. Peremptorily ordering them under arrest, he marched them back to town. On his arrival he met the spies sent out the night before, who reported that the party of Indians first discovered consisted of a mulatto and negro, whom a child had seen hunting cattle. The child had told her story to her father, the father to the neighborhood, and the. inhabitants, terrified out of reason, had abandoned their homes and fled to a place of refuge. The next day other scouts, who had been sent farther on, returned with letters from the outposts, stating that the Indians had gone off. They were supposed to be about one hundred and fifty in number, and had, in their raid into the distant settlements, killed and taken prisoners about seventy men, and destroyed several plantations and houses.

The panic of the inhabitants at those massacres reached almost to frenzy, and they crowded the roads across the Blue Ridge, so that it was with difficulty a company of rangers could effect a passage.

But the Indians having retired, Washington repaired to