The Shadow of the North: A Story of Old New York and a Lost CampaignAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
History
The Shadow of the North: A Story of Old New York and a Lost Campaign
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
United States -- History -- French and Indian War, 1754-1763 -- Juvenile fiction
But the fire of the French and the savages was increasing in volume
and accuracy. The bullets and cannon balls of the English and
Americans fired almost at random were passing over their heads, but
the great column of scarlet and blue on the trail formed a target
which the leaden missiles could not miss. Continually shouting the war
whoop, exultant now with the joy of expected triumph, the savages
hovered on either flank of Braddock's army like a swarm of bees, but
with a sting far more deadly. The brave and wily Beaujeu had been
killed in the first minute of the battle, but St. Luc, Dumas and
Ligneris, equally brave and wily, directed the onset, and the huge
Tandakora raged before his warriors.
The head of the British column was destroyed, and the three crept back
toward Gage's regulars, but the fire of the enemy was now spreading
along both flanks of the column to its full length. Robert remembered
the warning words of St. Luc. Every twig and leaf in the forest was
spouting death. Gage's regulars, raked by a terrible fire, and in
danger of complete destruction, were compelled to retreat upon the
main body, and, to their infinite mortification, abandon two cannon,
which the savages seized with fierce shouts of joy and dragged into
the woods.
"It goes ill," said Willet, as the terrible forest, raining death from
every side, seemed to close in on them like the shadow of
doom. Braddock, hearing the tremendous fire ahead, rushed forward his
own immediate troops as fast as possible, and meeting Gage's
retreating men, the two bodies became a great mass of scarlet in the
forest, upon which French and Indian bullets, that could not miss,
beat like a storm of hail. The shouts and cheers of the regulars
ceased. In an appalling situation, the like of which they had never
known before, hemmed in on every side by an unseen death, they fell
into confusion, but they did not lose courage. The savage ring now
enclosed the whole army, and to stand and to retreat alike meant
death.
The British charged with the bayonet into the thickets. The Indians
melted away before them, and, when the exhausted regulars came back
into the trail, the Indians rushed after them, still pouring in a
murderous fire, and making the forest ring with the ferocious war
whoop. The Virginians, knowing the warfare of the wilderness, began to
take to the shelter of the trees, from which they could fire at the
enemy. The brave though mistaken Braddock fiercely ordered them out
again. A score lying behind a fallen trunk and, matching the savages
at their own game, were mistaken by the regulars for the foe, and were
fired upon with deadly effect. Other regulars who tried to imitate the
hostile tactics were set upon by Braddock himself who beat them with
the flat of his sword and drove them back into the open trail, where
the rain of bullets fell directly upon them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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