midst of such attacks, astonished his savage enemies, and they called him "The Spirit protected man, who would be a chief of nations, for he could not die in battle. Thus did they own a divine power in his preservation; and the physician, who was on the battle ground, in speaking of him afterwards, said, "I expected every moment to see him fall; his duty, his situation, exposed him to every danger; nothing but the superintending care of Providence could have saved him from the fate of all around him.

General Braddock was mortally wounded, and his few remaining soldiers then fled in every direction. But his brave and faithful aid, with about thirty courageous Virginians, remained on the field, to save their wounded commander from the hatchet and the scalping knife of the Indians. They conveyed him with tenderness and speed towards that part of his army which was slowly advancing with the baggage, and he died in their camp, and was buried in the middle of a road, that his grave might be concealed from the Indians by wagon tracks. Within a few years, it was necessary to remove his remains to a short distance, as the great Cumberland road, made by the government of the United States, was to pass directly over the spot where he had been laid. Seventy-four years have passed, since

the terrible scene of Braddock's defeat. The plough has since furrowed the ground which was then moistened with the blood of the slain; but it is saddening to see on it white spots of crumbled bones, and to find amidst the green stalks of grain, buttons of the British soldiers, (marked with the number of their regiment,) and even the brazen ornaments of their caps. " Braddock's road," as the path was called, which his troops cut through the forest, is now almost overgrown with bushes; but few travellers pass near to it, without stopping to look along its windings, and recall the time when it was filled with animated soldiers, who were soon to be awfully silenced by the destructive weapons of war.

In writing an account of this dreadful defeat, Washington said, "See the wondrous works of Providence, and the uncertainty of human things!" He was much distressed by the loss of the army, and the officer next in command to General Braddock, instead of endeavouring to prepare for a better defence, went into winter quarters, although it was only the month of August. It was thought necessary to raise more troops immediately, and the command of all that should be raised in Virginia was offered to Washington, with the privilege of naming his own officers. He willingly accepted this offer, as he could do so without placing himself under Bri

tish officers who were not really above him in rank. He immediately set off to visit the troops that had been placed in different situations along the borders of the province; and on his return to prepare for an active defence, he was overtaken by a messenger, with an account, that a number of French troops and Indian warriors, divided into parties, were capturing and murdering the inhabitants of the back settlements,-burning the houses and destroying the crops; and that the troops stationed there, were unable to protect them. Washington immediately used every means within his power to provide for their relief; but it was impossible to defend, with a few troops, a frontier of almost four hundred miles, from an enemy that "skulked by day and plundered by night." While he was anxiously doing what he could, he wrote to the governor an account of the distress around him; and added, "I see their situation,-I know their danger, and participate their sufferings, without having the power to give them further relief than uncertain promises. The supplicating tears of the women, and the moving petitions of the men, melt me with deadly sorrow." It might have been expected, that the people in their distress would blame him for not protecting them better; but no murmur arose against him; they all acknowledged,

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1756.

that he was doing as much for them as was within his power.

He wrote to the lieutenant-governor the most earnest and pressing requests for more assistance; but instead of receiving it, he was treated unkindly, as he related in a letter to a friend. "Whence it arises, or why, I am truly ignorant, but my strongest representations of matters, relative to the peace of the frontiers, are disregarded as idle and frivolous; my propositions and measures as partial and selfish; and all my sincerest endeavours for the service of my country, perverted to the worst purposes. My orders are dark, doubtful, and uncertain. -To-day approved, to-morrow condemned; left to act and proceed at hazard, and blamed without the benefit of defence. However, I am determined to bear up some time longer, in the hope of better regulations." Though disappointed in all his best formed plans, by the obstinacy and-ill nature of the person who had the power to control him; and pained by the increasing sufferings around him, which he was not aided to relieve, yet he did not "become weary in welldoing," or suffer an angry resentment to induce the selfish conduct of giving up his power to do some good. He continued his active and humane endeavours, and pleaded for the relief of his suffering countrymen, until his pleadings were called impertinent;

in answer to this, he wrote to the governor, "I must beg leave, in justification of my own conduct, to observe, that it is with pleasure I receive reproof when reproof is due; because no person can be readier to accuse me than I am to acknowledge an error, when I have committed it; or more desirous of atoning for a crime, when I am sensible of being guilty of one. But on the other hand, it is with concern, I remark, that my conduct, although I have uniformly studied to make it as unexceptionable as I could, does not appear to you in a favourable light." With calm dignity he endured a continuance of such vexations, without ceasing to toil in his almost hopeless work of humanity.

A new commander of the British troops was sent from England, and he listened to Washington's opinion, that the frontiers. could not be freed from the dreadful visits of the Indians, in connexion with the French, until they were driven from Fort Du Quesne; for that was the place from which they started on their destructive expeditions. When it was determined that this should be attempted, Washington advanced with a few troops, to open the way for the army, but before they reached the fort, the French left it, and the English took possession of it, and named

1758.

Nov.

it Fort Pitt. As Washington had expected,

D