But apart from the perfidious ambitions of governments and the predatory lusts of savages, there could not be peace in America, nor in effect had there been since the settlement of Utrecht. Boundaries in that trackless continent were vague, and constantly overstepped. The proper limits of Nova Scotia, and the demarcation between Canada and New England, were subjects of acute controversy. Under such circumstances both parties plant outposts in disputed territories, and both attempt to dislodge each other. French officers headed exploring parties, annexing vast territories by the simple expedient of nailing to a tree-trunk a tin plate stamped with the arms of France, and burying at the root a leaden tablet recording that possession had thus been taken. But there were other operations much less bloodless and futile. One of these petty engagements survives in history because it marks the first appearance of Washington, compelled in 1754 to celebrate the Fourth of July by a surrender to the French, who had surrounded him in superior numbers; and because it was the commencement of open but not declared warfare between the British and the French. Both nations now determined to send out reinforcements. 'In a moment,' says Walpole, 'the Duke of Newcastle assumed the hero, and breathed nothing but military operations; he and the Chancellor held councils of war; none of the ministers except Lord Holderness were admitted inside their tent.' With some discount for Walpole's malicious pleasantry, the picture, humorous enough to us, must have filled men like Pitt with the darkest misgivings. Pitt, as we have seen, had once been accidentally admitted into the tent and taken into confidence. He must have left it with the feeling that the destinies of the Empire were in peril so long as Newcastle was at the helm. A giant conflict for the supremacy of the world was preparing, and Newcastle was in charge of Great Britain. It was enough to give the bravest patriot a qualm. Nor were the military preparations less deplorable. Braddock was sent out at the new year with a plan of campaign prepared by Cumberland. Cumberland on Braddock was a combination which might make the stoutest heart in England quail. Cumberland, who had lost every battle but the one-sided affray of Culloden, was the brain to devise. Braddock, a brutal soldier of parade experience, whose only warfare had been in Hyde Park or Hounslow, was the hand to execute. Braddock took his troops through the American bush as if they were marching from London to Windsor, and was annihilated ten miles from the French stronghold, Fort Duquesne, where now smokes toiling Pittsburg. British troops then first faced the most formidable of adversaries, an invisible foe. They advanced boldly, cheering and singing 'God save the King.' But they found that they were mere targets for a host of concealed sharpshooters. Behind every tree and rock there lurked a musket. At last they broke ranks and huddled into confusion.