You must remember that during all this time there had been no war. If you had asked any of the French courtiers or ambassadors they would have told you that perfect peace existed between the two nations. But that was only a diplomatic fiction. At all events, whatever was happening in Europe between Old France and Old England, on the other side of the great ocean New France and New England were engaged in a life-and-death conflict. It was not strange that the hand of both mother-countries was extended to help them. Only if England could have looked into the future five-and-twenty years and seen her ungrateful American children tearing down her noble old flag with taunts and insults, perhaps she might not have given her help or spilt her blood so freely to protect America from the French. After all, it may be as well that nations do not know all the evils that are to happen. Their course is to do their duty manfully and honestly for the present; posterity can take care of itself. Moreover, the separation of America from England was no real evil, because that separation was to build the foundation of Canada's greatness in the British Empire and loyalty to the British crown and flag. On the arrival of General Braddock the various colonial Governors held a consultation. They decided that the three forts, Duquesne, Niagara, and Crown Point, at the head of Lake Champlain, should be captured. We have already seen that another {198} French fort, Beauséjour, was doomed to destruction. It was while Beauséjour was being surrounded by Monckton and his New Englanders that the other expeditions were setting out for their destinations. Braddock decided to take Fort Duquesne himself. Governor Shirley led the expedition against Niagara, and Colonel William Johnson was ordered to take Crown Point. Braddock took 1000 English veterans and 1200 Virginian Militia into the heart of the wilderness. The commander of Fort Duquesne was Contrecoeur. When he was told the size of Braddock's army he saw little hope of standing a siege, but he might intercept the English soldiers in the woods. It was a splendid opportunity for the kind of warfare Indians loved. Two hundred Frenchmen and 500 redskins were sent to lie in ambush on the trail which Braddock would take with drums beating and fifes playing. On a beautiful July day the scarlet-coated regiments of Braddock moved on unconscious to their doom. Every moment they looked to see the great walls of the Fort Duquesne burst upon their gaze. Through the forest they came to the river, the Monongahela, and forded it. Hardly had they crossed, when a strange apparition sprang into the middle of the wide woodland path. He wore war-paint and flaming feathers, but in spite of this dress he was really a French officer. He flung his right arm into the air as a signal, and instantly the forest rang with savage yells. A shower of bullets, fired by unseen hands, fell upon the advancing English.