But there was activity now in England, too. Governor Sharpe of Maryland, but lately appointed Commander-in-chief in America, had only a hint of what was being planned and was to have even less share in its accomplishment; in vain his friends extolled him as honest—“a little less honesty,” declared George II, characteristically, “and a little more ability were more to be desired at the moment.” And the rule worked on both sides of the Atlantic. American affairs had long been in the hands of the Secretary of the Board of Trade, the Duke of Newcastle, as perfect an ass as ever held high office. He had opposed every policy that did not accord with his own “time serving selfishness” with a persistency only matched by his unparalleled ignorance. Once thrown into a panic, it is said, at a rumor that a large French army had been thrown into Cape Breton, he was asked where the necessary transports had been secured.
“Transports,” he shrieked, “I tell you they marched by land!”
“By land, to the island of Cape Breton?” was the astonished reply.
“What, is Cape Breton an island? Are you sure of that?” and he ran away with an “Egad, I will go directly and tell the King that Cape Breton is an island!” It is not surprising that a government which could ever have tolerated such a man in high office should have neglected, then abused, and then lost its American colonies.
But Newcastle gave way to an abler man. The new campaign in North America was the conception of the Captain-general of the British Army, the Duke of Cumberland, hero of Culloden.
On November 14, 1754, King George opened Parliament with the statement that “His principal view should be to strengthen the foundation, and secure the duration of a general peace; to improve the present advantages of it for promoting the trade of his good subjects, and protecting those possessions which constitute one great source of their wealth and commerce.” Only in this vague way did His Majesty refer to the situation in America, lest he precipitate a debate; but Parliament took the cue and voted over four million pounds—one million of which was to be devoted to augmenting England’s forces “by land and sea.” Cumberland’s plan for the operations against the French in America had, sometime before, been forwarded to the point of selecting a Generalissimo to be sent to that continent. Major-General Edward Braddock was appointed to the service, upon the Duke of Cumberland’s recommendation, on September 24.
Edward Braddock was a lieutenant-colonel of the line and a major of the Foot Guards, the choicest corps of the British army—a position which cost the holder no less than eighteen thousand dollars. He was born in Ireland but was not Irish, for neither Scot, Irish, nor Papist could aspire to the meanest rank of the Foot Guards. He was as old as his century. His promotion in the army had been jointly due to the good name of his father, Edward Braddock I, who was retired as Major-general in 1715, to his passion for strict discipline, and to the favor of His Grace the Duke of Cumberland. Braddock’s personal bravery was proverbial; it was said that his troops never faced a danger when their commander was not “greedy to lead.” In private life he was dissolute; in disposition, “a very Iroquois,” according to Walpole. Yet certain of his friends denied the brutality which many attributed to him. “As we were walking in the Park,” one of Braddock’s admirers has recorded, “we heard a poor fellow was to be chastized; when I requested the General to beg off the offender. Upon his application to the general officer, whose name was Dury, he asked Braddock, How long since he had divested himself of brutality and the insolence of his manner? To which the other replied, ‘You never knew me insolent to my inferiors. It is only to such rude men as yourself that I behave with the spirit which I think they deserve.’”[3] And yet, when his sister Fanny hanged herself with a silver girdle to her chamber door, after losing her fortune at the gaming tables, the brute of a brother observed, “I always thought she would play till she would be forced to tuck herself up.” On the other hand it need not be forgotten that Braddock was for forty-three years in the service of the famed Coldstream Guards; that he probably conducted himself with courage in the Vigo expedition and in the Low Countries, and was a survivor of bloody Dettingen, Culloden, Fontenoy, and Bergen-op-Zoom. In 1753 he was stationed at Gibraltar where, “with all his brutality,” writes Walpole, “he made himself adored, and where scarce any governor was endured before.”[4]
Two months and one day after Braddock’s commission was signed he received two letters of instructions, one from the King and one from the Duke of Cumberland. “For your better direction in discharge of ye Trust thereby reposed in You,” reads the King’s letter, “We have judged it proper to give You the following Instructions.” The document is divided into thirteen heads:
1. Two regiments of Foot commanded by Sir Peter Halket and Colonel Dunbar, with a train of artillery and necessary ships were ordered to “repair to North America.”
2. Braddock ordered to proceed to America and take under his command these troops, cultivating meanwhile “a good understanding & correspondence with Aug. Keppel Esqr.” who was appointed commander of the American squadron.