During the action, or massacre, of three hours, Braddock had three horses killed under him, and two disabled. At five o'clock in the afternoon, while beneath a large tree standing between the heads of two ravines, and in the act of giving an order, he received a mortal wound. Falling from his horse, he lay helpless on the ground, surrounded by the dead. His army having fired away all their ammunition, now fled in disorder back to the Monongahela. Pursued to the water's edge by a party of savages, the regulars threw away arms, accoutrements, and even clothing, that they might run the faster. Many were tomahawked at the fording-place; but those who crossed were not pursued, as the Indians returned to the harvest of plunder. The provincials, better acquainted with Indian warfare were less disconcerted, and retreated with more composure.
Not one of his British soldiers could be prevailed upon to stay and aid in bearing off the wounded general. In vain Orme offered them a purse of sixty guineas. Braddock begged his faithful friends to provide for their own safety, and declared his resolution to die on the field. Orme disregarded these desperate injunctions; and Captain Stewart, of the Virginia Light-horse, (attached to the general's person,) and his servant, together with another American officer, hastening to Orme's relief, brought off Braddock, at first on a small tumbrel, then on a horse, lastly by the soldiers.
According to Washington's account, in a letter written to Dinwiddie: "They were struck with such an inconceivable panic, that nothing but confusion and disobedience of orders prevailed among them. The officers in general behaved with incomparable bravery, for which they greatly suffered, there being upwards of sixty killed and wounded, a large proportion out of what we had. The Virginia companies behaved like men and died like soldiers; for, I believe, out of three companies on the ground that day, scarcely thirty men were left alive. Captain Peyrouny, a Frenchman by birth, and all his officers down to a corporal, were killed. Captain Poulson had almost as hard a fate, for only one of his escaped. In short, the dastardly behavior of the regular troops (so called) exposed those who were inclined to do their duty to almost certain death; and, at length, in spite of every effort to the contrary, they broke and ran like sheep before hounds, leaving the artillery, ammunition, provisions, baggage, and, in short, everything a prey to the enemy; and when we endeavored to rally them in hopes of regaining the ground and what we had left upon it, it was with as little success as if we had attempted to have stopped the wild bears of the mountains, or the rivulets with our feet; for they would break by in spite of every effort to prevent it."
Braddock was brave and accomplished in European tactics; but not an officer of that comprehensive genius which knows how to bend and accommodate himself to circumstances. Burke says that a wise statesman knows how to be governed by circumstances: the maxim applies as well to a military commander. Braddock, headstrong, passionate, irritated, not without just grounds, against the provinces, and pursuing the policy of the British government to rely mainly on the forces sent over, and to treat the colonial troops as inferior and only secondary, rejected the proposal of Washington to lead in advance the provincials, who, accustomed to border warfare, knew better how to cope with a savage foe.[480:A] Braddock, however, showed that although he could not retrieve these errors, nor reclaim a degenerate soldiery, he could at any rate fall like a soldier.[480:B]
Although no further pursued, the remainder of the army continued their flight during the night and the next day. Braddock continued for two days to give orders; and it was in compliance with them that the greater part of the artillery, ammunition, and other stores were destroyed. It was not until the thirteenth that the general uttered a word, except for military directions. He then bestowed the warmest praise on his gallant officers, and bequeathed, as is said, his charger, and his body-servant, Bishop, to Washington.[480:C] The dying Braddock ejaculated in reference to the defeat, "Who would have thought it?" Turning to Orme he remarked, "We shall better know how to deal with them another time;" and in a few moments expired, at eight o'clock, in the evening of Sunday, the 13th of July, 1755, at the Great Meadows. On the next morning he was buried in the road, near Fort Necessity, Washington, in the absence of the chaplain, who was wounded, reading the funeral service. Washington retired to Mount Vernon, oppressed with the sad retrospect of the recent disaster. But his reputation was greatly elevated by his signal gallantry on this occasion. Such dreary portals open the road of fame.
The green and bosky scene of battle was strewn with the wounded and the dead. Toward evening the forest resounded with the exulting cries and war-whoop of the returning French and Indians, the firing of small arms, and the responsive roar of the cannon at the fort. A lonely American prisoner confined there listened during this anxious day to the various sounds, and with peering eye explored the scene. Presently he saw the greater part of the savages, painted and blood-stained, bringing scalps, and rejoicing in the possession of grenadiers' caps, and the laced hats and splendid regimentals of the English officers. Next succeeded the French, escorting a long train of pack-horses laden with plunder. Last of all, just before sunset, appeared a party of Indians conducting twelve British regulars, naked, their faces blackened, their hands tied behind them. In a short while they were burned to death on the opposite bank of the Ohio, with every circumstance of studied barbarity and inhuman torture, the French garrison crowding the ramparts of the fort to witness the spectacle.
The remains of the defeated detachment retreated to the rear division in precipitate disorder, leaving the road behind them strewed with signs of the disaster. Shortly after, Colonel Dunbar marched with the remaining regulars to Philadelphia. Colonel Washington returned home, mortified and indignant at the conduct of the regular troops.
FOOTNOTES:
[470:A] Chalmers' Revolt, ii. 353.