The Farmer Boy, and How He Became Commander-In-ChiefHeady, Morrison
History
The Farmer Boy, and How He Became Commander-In-Chief
Heady, Morrison
Washington, George, 1732-1799
To give them an overwhelming idea of the power and splendor of English
arms, he received them with all the honors of war,--fifes playing,
drums beating, and the regulars lowering their muskets as they passed
on to the general's tent. Here Braddock received them in the midst of
his officers, and made them a speech of welcome, in the course of
which he told them of the deep sorrow felt by their great father, the
King of England, for the death of his red brother, the Half King; and
that, to console his red children in America for so grievous a loss,
as well as to reward them for their friendship and services to the
English, he had sent them many rich and handsome presents, which they
should receive before leaving the fort. This speech was answered by a
dozen warriors in as many orations, which being very long and very
flowery, and very little to the point, bored their English listeners
dreadfully. The peace-pipe smoked and the Big Talk ended, Braddock, by
way of putting a cap on the grand occasion, ordered all the fifes to
play, and drums to beat, and, in the midst of the music, all the guns
in the fort to be fired at once. He then caused a bullock to be
killed, and roasted whole, for the refreshment of his Indian guests.
The Indians, in their turn, to show how sensible they were of the
honor done them by this distinguished reception, entertained the
English by dancing their war-dances and singing their war-songs: by
which you are to understand that they jumped and whirled and capered
about in a thousand outlandish antics till they grew limber and weak
in the knees, and yelped and bellowed and howled till their bodies
were almost empty of breath; when, from very exhaustion, they hushed
their barbarous din, and night and slumber fell on the camp. In the
daytime, these lords of the forest, tricked out in all their savage
finery, their faces streaked with war-paint and their scalp-locks
brave with gay bunches of feathers, would stalk about the fort, big
with wonder over every thing they saw. Now and then, they would follow
with admiring eyes the rapid and skilful movement of the red-coated
regulars, as one or other of the regiments, like some huge machine,
went through their martial exercises; or, standing on the ramparts,
they would watch with still keener zest and interest the young
officers as they amused themselves by racing their horses outside the
fort.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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