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
At last, all things were got in readiness; and the gallant little army
began its toilsome march through the forest, and over the mountains,
and up and down the valleys. Beside the regulars, fourteen hundred
strong, it consisted of two companies of hatchet-men, or carpenters,
whose business it was to go on before, and open the road; a small
company of seamen, who had the care and management of the artillery;
six companies of rangers, some of whom were Pennsylvanians; and two
companies of light horse, which, being composed of young men taken
from the very first families of Virginia, Braddock had chosen to be
his body-guard: the whole numbering two thousand, or thereabouts.
Owing to the difficulty of dragging the loaded wagons and heavy guns
over the steep and rocky roads, the march was slow and tedious in the
extreme; and what made it still more trying to Washington's patience
was to see so many wagons and pack-horses loaded down with the private
baggage of the English officers,--such as fine clothing, table
dainties, and a hundred little troublesome conveniences, which they
must needs lug about with them wherever they went. Weeks before they
left Fort Cumberland, Washington had pointed out to Braddock the folly
of attempting to cross that monstrous mountain barrier with a cumbrous
train of wheel-carriages; and expressed the opinion, that, for the
present, they had better leave the bulk of their baggage and their
heaviest artillery, and, trusting entirely to pack-horses for
transporting what should be needed most, make their way at once to
Fort Duquesne while the garrison was yet too weak to offer any
resistance. This prudent counsel, however, as usual, had failed to
produce the least effect on the narrow and stubborn mind of Braddock;
but by the time he had dragged his unwieldy length over two or three
mountains, and had made but a few miles in many days, it began to dawn
on his mind by slow degrees, that a campaign in an American wilderness
was a very different thing from what it was in the cultivated regions
of Europe, where nearly every meadow, field, or wood, could tell of a
Christian and civilized battle there fought, and where the fine roads
and bridges made the march of an army a mere holiday jaunt as compared
to this rough service. The difficulties that beset him seeming to
thicken around him at every step, he was at last so sorely put to it
and perplexed as to be obliged to turn to the young provincial
colonel for that advice which he, in his blind self-confidence, had
but a short while before disdained.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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