miles away, and he came on with the swivel guns of the fort. A council of war soon decided that they could not hold their own at this place, and must retreat to more favorable grounds for a stand against the enemy.

In the retreat that followed, the Virginians were greatly exasperated by the North Carolinians. Mackay’s men were “King’s soldiers” and so would not belittle themselves with the labors of the retreat. At Great Meadows, in the center of which was Fort Necessity, the Virginians, exhausted and resentful, refused to go any farther, and Washington decided to make his stand there.

They had left Gist’s station none too soon. At dawn on the morning following the retreat, Captain de Villiers with five hundred Frenchmen and several hundred Indians surrounded the place. Finding that the English had escaped, they were about to return to Fort Duquesne, when a deserter from Washington’s camp arrived. He told them that he had escaped to keep from starving to death, and that the troops under Washington were in mutiny over their desperate situation.

De Villiers set out at once to capture Fort Necessity.

Meanwhile, Washington set the Virginians at work strengthening the defences of the fort. The Indians seeing such inferior equipment for defense, and the discord among the troops, became afraid and deserted.

On the morning of July 3, 1754, the French arrived at the edge of Great Meadows and began firing from behind trees, at whatever they could see. All day Washington kept his men close sheltered in the trenches, keeping the enemy at rifle’s distance in the edge of the woods. At night a steady downpour of rain began, half drowning the men in the trenches and ruining their ammunition.

At eight o’clock the French demanded a parley looking to the surrender of Fort Necessity. Washington at first refused, but their condition was hopeless. The only person with them who understood any French was Jacob Van Braam, the swordsmanship teacher of Washington at Mount Vernon.

Van Braam went back and forth in the drenching storm of the black night, between the lines, with the negotiations. At last the French sent in their ultimatum. Van Braam tried to translate it by the light of a candle, under cover of a rude tent, through which the rain was pouring upon candle, paper and persons. The terms of the surrender were very humiliating and reflected severely on Washington’s honor, but according to Van Braam’s translation the terms, though hard, were acceptable.

Washington signed the document and the next morning the bedraggled and disheartened men marched out with the honors of war, though the document of surrender, as afterward correctly translated, did not leave a shred of honor for the defeated colonists. It was then believed that Van Braam had purposely mistranslated it in the service of the French, with whom he and Captain Stobo had to remain as hostages. But subsequent information from the French exonerated Van Braam from this charge, deciding that the mistranslation was from ignorance and not intentional.

The soldiers were put into quarters at Will’s creek, and Washington went on to make his report to the Governor.

The Virginia legislature took up an investigation of the charges as to Van Braam’s treason and Captain Stobo’s cowardice, as well as the conduct of Washington, and the questions of the surrender. Thanks and rewards were freely voted to the troops, but it was some time later before evidence came in, establishing the patriotic character of Van Braam and Stobo.

III. WASHINGTON ENTERING THE SCHOOL OF WAR

The French were so elated with their victory, and the belief that the English had been permanently expelled, that they withdrew most of their troops from Fort Duquesne and abandoned all precautions against surprise and attack. Before the end of a month Captain Stobo, who was being held by them as hostage, smuggled a letter out by a friendly Indian describing all the conditions and laying out a plan by which the fort could easily be surprised and taken. He mentioned the boasts of the French and said it was worse than death to hear them. He said that he and his fellow prisoner, Van Braam, were ready at any time to lay down their lives for their country. This letter, after much wandering, reached the Governor of Pennsylvania and was by him sent to the Governor of Virginia.

Captain Stobo’s plan was practical. As all kinds of Indians were being allowed without question to come and go as they pleased at Fort Duquesne, he advised that the fort be first occupied by friendly Indians, who would hold it till it could be turned over to the Colonial troops.

Governor Dinwiddie wanted the honor himself and he planned several ways of his own to capture the fort. These were rejected by Washington.

Now began unceasingly the wrangle and turmoil between the arrogance of King’s authority and the native independence of the colonist’s ideals and character. The colonists were not allowed to have any officer above the rank of Captain, and Washington quit the service.

Governor Sharpe, of Maryland, was appointed by the King as Commander of all the forces used to recover the King’s territory from the French, and he wrote a letter to Washington, trying to enlist his services.

Washington’s reply gives some insight into his independence and maturity of mind at this time.

“You make mention,” he replied, “of my continuing in the service and retaining my colonel’s commission. The idea has filled me with surprise; for, if you think me capable of holding a commission that has neither rank nor emolument annexed to it, you must maintain a very contemptible opinion of my weakness, and believe me more empty than the commission itself.”

He added that it was no desire to quit the service which caused him to reject the offer, but the call of honor and the advice of friends, because his feelings were strong for the military life.

Washington now returned to Mount Vernon, where he took up a quiet agricultural life, though constantly in association and council with his countrymen over the rapidly developing questions of war between the colonies and the French.

France was secretly pouring troops and means into Canada, and England was as busy making ready in the equipment of the colonies, though the two home governments were professing to be profoundly at peace.

Alexandria, near by, merely a pleasurable horseback ride from Mount Vernon, was the scene of gathering forces, now under command of an experienced English General named Braddock. Ships of war and transports were constantly passing up the Potomac past Mount Vernon.

What a glorious array over Washington’s ragged forces of the year before! His military ardor was again kindled. The boom of cannon outranked the moo of cattle in his meadows. The youth of twenty-three, who had already tasted the glory as well as the defeat of battle, could no longer endure the peaceful shades of Mount Vernon. He let it be known that he would like to be attached as an independent volunteer to General Braddock’s staff. The offer was very decorously given and accepted. He had neither “rank nor emolument” in this position, but it was also neither subservient nor responsible. He was merely an attache, a visitor as it were, in General Braddock’s family of advisers.

His mother, hearing of this move to return to the army, hurried to Mount Vernon to dissuade him. She wanted him to remain a country gentleman attending to their property interests, which were hard for her to manage. But the spirit of Washington seemed to feel a greater destiny. His mind was made up and