through woods, rocks and mountains for the shadow of pay, I would rather toil like a day laborer for a maintenance, if reduced to the necessity, than to serve on such ignoble terms.”

In a letter to his friend, Colonel Fairfax, in which he preferred to serve as a volunteer without pay, rather than for what he was getting, he added, “for the motives that have led me here are pure and noble. I had no view of acquisition but that of honor, by serving faithfully my king and my country.”

In the midst of all this dissatisfaction and distress, word came through Indian scouts that the French were marching to attack him. The tracks of a scouting party having been discovered, an Indian was put on the trail and he found the camp of the enemy. Washington determined to surprise them. He planned to slip up on one side of them, as his Indian allies did the same on the other side. Between them he believed he could capture them all. But the sharp watch of the French caught sight of the English and the forest battle began. One of Washington’s men had been killed and three wounded in a fifteen minutes’ battle, when the French, having lost several and becoming frightened at being between two fires, gave way and ran. They were soon overtaken and captured, excepting one who escaped and carried the news to the fort at the forks of the Ohio. Ten of the French had been killed and one wounded. Twenty-one were prisoners.

Though this battle, as measured in the deeds of other wars, was indeed a small affair, it was weighty with consequence for the interests of America. It was Washington’s first experience in battle. In a letter to one of his brothers, he says, “I heard the bullets whistle, and, believe me, there is something charming in the sound.”

This statement of a boy, at the age of twenty-two in the first emotions of military excitement, is hardly to be called mere rodomontade as Horace Walpole termed it. It is said that George II remarked, when he was told of this expression used by the young Virginian commander, “He would not say so, if he had been used to hear many.” Forty years later, when Washington was President of the United States of America, he was asked about the so-called charm of whistling bullets, and he replied, “If I said so, it was when I was young.”

The victory of this battle, small as it was, aroused the colonists and held the confidence of the Indians. The Indian chief sent the scalps of the ten slain soldiers to the different tribes and called on them to come at once to the help of their brothers, the English.

Washington’s difficulty in getting supplies and in obtaining reinforcements taxed all his powers and all his stability of character. There was no doubt that the entire success of the campaign depended upon his patience and resourceful perseverance. It was making the twenty-two-year-old gentleman of Mount Vernon and Belvoir very rapidly into a hardy warrior of the wilderness, and a tactful manager of men. These qualities were being strengthened for the coming great day, when there should be a new nation. Doubtless the sordid stupidity of the colonial governors, in their tardy and meager support of him, had much to do in preparing the way for ideas of independence and a self-governing body of States.

CHAPTER V
THE CONSEQUENCE OF ARROGANCE AND IGNORANCE

I. ANNOYANCES AND ANTAGONISMS

Heroism appears often to be a thankless task. Patience had about vanished when, most opportunely, Adjutant Muse, Washington’s instructor in military tactics, arrived with much needed supplies, and also suitable presents for the Indians. A grand ceremonial of presentation took place. The pompous ceremonial seemed to be very dear to the heart of those so-called simple children of the forests. The chiefs were decorated in all their barbaric finery. Washington wore a big medal sent him by the Governor, intended to be impressively used on such occasions. Washington gave the presents and decorated the chiefs and warriors with the medals, which they were to wear in memory of their brethren, the English, and their father, the King of England.

One of the warriors, the son of Queen Aliquippa, wanted the honor of having an English name, so, in elaborate ceremonial, Washington bestowed upon him the name Fairfax. The principal chief of the tribes desiring a like honor was given the name of the governor, Dinwiddie.

William Fairfax had, about this time, written a letter to Washington advising that he hold religious services in camp, especially for the benefit of the Indians. This was done, and the imagination can picture the motley assembly being so solemnly presided over in that picturesque wilderness by the boyish commander of a no less motley army.

In reading about big wars, in which there are millions striving for the bloody mastery, with monster machines of modern destruction, it may sound trivial to read of the fear with which Washington’s wilderness army heard of the approach of ninety Frenchmen. But, in truth, this handful of men were at the beginning of the greatest human interests, and were giving direction to human affairs hardly less consequential than the European War.

Washington, with the buoyant fervor of youth, sallied forth from the fort, hoping to have the honor of presenting Governor Dinwiddie with a choice lot of French prisoners. The scouts had certainly been well scared. The ninety French warriors were found to be nine deserters anxious to be captured. But they gave valuable information regarding Fort Duquesne, which was put to good use by Washington.

Now began one of those little annoyances which marked the feeling of British officers toward Colonial officers, and showed the state of mind which was at last to be an intolerable antagonism between England and America.

Captain Mackay arrived with an independent company of North Carolinians. Captain Mackay held a commission direct from the King, Washington held his by Colonial authority; therefore, Captain Mackay believed himself and his company to have far superior standing to that of Washington and his provincial men.

The result was that he would not associate himself in any way with Washington nor allow his men to have anything in common with Washington’s men. No matter what Washington urged as to their common danger and their common cause, he very haughtily flouted every attempt made to have the two commanders work together.

The experience Washington had in managing this delicate and foolish situation was doubtless very valuable in handling even more delicate and foolish situations of vastly more consequence in the coming revolutionary war.

II. DISHONORS AND DISASTERS

Finding that co-operation with the North Carolina troops was impossible, Washington left Fort Necessity in their charge, and toiled forward through the forest, making a military road toward Fort Duquesne, which was at the point where Pittsburg now is, and which was in the very heart of the region claimed by the English colonies.

Washington reached the station kept by Christopher Gist. This was the heroic woodsman who had been his companion through the most perilous part of his romantic journey when he carried the history-making message from the Governor of Virginia to the Commander of the French.

Here he learned that a large force from Fort Duquesne was coming against him. He hastily threw up fortifications and called in all his forces, including several companies of Indians. A messenger was hastily despatched to Captain Mackay at Fort Necessity, thirteen