“General Braddock is a great, bluff, brave, foolish, hard-drinking,
hard-riding Irishman. He does not understand the temper of our
soldiers, and has not the remotest conception of Indian fighting, which
our enemies have been clever enough to adopt. I foresee nothing but
disaster if he carries out the campaign on his present lines. There is
but one good sign. He has heard of you, Colonel Washington, and seems
to have been impressed by the devotion of your men to you. Last night
he said to me, ‘Can you not contrive to get this young colonel over to
see me? I observe one strange thing in these provincial troops: they
have exactly the same confidence in Colonel Washington now as before
his disastrous campaign, and as a soldier I know there must be some
great qualities in a commander when even defeat cannot undo him with
his men, for your private soldier is commonly a good military critic;
so now, my little Dutch captain,’ bringing his great fist down on my
back like the hammer on the anvil, ‘do you bring him to see me. If he
will take a place in my military family, by gad it is his.’ And, my
young colonel,” added Vanbraam in his quiet way, “I am not so sure
it is not your duty to go, for I have a suspicion that this great
swashbuckler will bring our troops to such a pass in this campaign that
only you can manage them. So return with me to-morrow.”
“Let me sleep on it,” answered George, with a faint smile.
Next evening, as the general sat in his quarters at the Alexandria
Tavern, surrounded by his officers, most of them drinking and
swaggering, the general most of all, a knock came at the door, and when
it was opened Captain Vanbraam’s short figure appeared, and with him
George Washington, the finest and most military figure that General
Braddock ever remembered to have seen. Something he had once heard of
the great Condé came to General Braddock’s dull brain when he saw this
superb young soldier: “This man was born a captain.”
When George was introduced he was received with every evidence of
respect. The general, who was a good soldier after a bad pattern, said
to him at once:
“Mr. Washington, I have much desired to see you, and will you oblige
me by giving me, later on, a full account of your last campaign?” The
other officers took the hint, and, in a little while, George and
the general were alone. They remained alone until two o’clock in the
morning, and when George came out of the room he had entered as a
private citizen he was first aide-de-camp on General Braddock’s staff.
As he walked back to Captain Vanbraam’s quarters in the dead of
night, under a wintry sky, he was almost overwhelmed with conflicting
feelings. He was full of joy that he could make the campaign in
an honorable position; but General Braddock’s utter inability to
comprehend what was necessary in such fighting filled him with dread
for the brave men who were to be risked in such a venture.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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