It was now the 9th of July, and the governor of Du Quesne almost gave up his fort as lost; for Braddock and his army were that morning only twelve miles distant. Washington, about noon riding a little a-head, looked back from the height above the right bank of the Monongahala, and beheld the advanced guard of regulars, headed by Lieutenant-colonel Gage, advancing, with all the glitter of their brilliant uniform, into an open wood. At that moment the Indian war-whoop sounded, and they were fired upon from all quarters by an invisible foe. The assailants, about 200 French and 600 Indians, hidden in some ravines on each side of the road and amid the long grass, poured in a deadly fire: the British troops, seized with sudden panic, were thrown into hopeless confusion, and would have fled, but that Braddock rallied them and exerted himself to the utmost to restore order. Succeeding in part, and preserving something like the order of battle, the horrors of the moment were increased; for his men, “penned like sheep in a fold,” were the better mark for the invisible enemy, who themselves, expecting merely to harass, never hoping to defeat, were astonished at their own success. The Indians, singling out the officers, shot down every one; of eighty-six officers, twenty-six were killed and thirty-seven wounded; of the men one-half were killed or wounded. Washington alone seemed to be preserved as by an especial Providence. In vain the Indian singled him out also as a mark for his rifle; no bullet took his life, though two horses were shot under him, and four bullets, after the battle, were found lodged in his coat. Well might the savage exclaim, “Some powerful Manitou guards his life!” This singular preservation of the young Washington, in the midst of death, attracted the attention of all. “I cannot but hope,” said a learned divine, a month afterwards, “that Providence has preserved that heroic youth, Colonel Washington, in so especial a manner for some important service to his country.” And in England Lord Halifax inquired, “Who is this Mr. Washington? I know nothing of him; but they say that he behaved in Braddock’s action as bravely as if he loved the whistling of bullets.” Braddock remained undismayed amid the shower of bullets; five horses were shot under him, and at length a ball entering his right side, he fell mortally wounded. With difficulty he was borne off the field; for many hours he remained silent; towards evening he said, “Who would have thought it?” On the 12th, Braddock being conveyed to Dunbar’s camp, the remaining artillery was destroyed, the public stores and heavy baggage burnt, to the value of £100,000, Dunbar assigning as the reason, the dying general’s commands. The next day they retreated, and the same night Braddock died; his last words being, “We shall know better how to deal with them another time.” His grave may still be seen near the public road, about a mile west of Fort Necessity.[4]