Braddock in his way was a good soldier, a hard bitten, dyed in the wool, regular army officer with a great contempt for the Virginia militia, and an over confident belief that the British soldier was invincible. He believed absolutely that the methods of war that were used on European battlefields would overwhelm anything in America, and he liked to see his redcoats with their boots polished and their buttons furbished, marching in solid platoon formation, turning and wheeling with the mathematical regularity of a machine. His men were drilled and disciplined until they were automatons, for Braddock was a martinet. Their ranks ran true, their equipment was in the pink of soldierly condition; the sunlight glittered from their bayonets, you could see your face in their leather accouterments, and Braddock proudly marched them into the American woods as though they were parading on the Strand in London. When Washington warned him of the dangers of ambush, urging that an advance guard and scouts be thrown out, Braddock turned scornfully away, believing that a volley or two from his brave regulars would soon drive off any foes that might fall upon him, and he said bluntly that when he desired advice from his subordinates he would ask for it.
As his men were marching in close formation, their red coats blazing against the dark green of the forest, shifting figures were seen in the trees ahead, a French officer suddenly appeared cheering them on to the attack, and with shouts and yells an unseen enemy shot down the Britishers from the protection of fallen trees, from behind rocks and stumps, and from the concealment of forest branches.
The redcoats fell by scores and were thrown into hopeless confusion. They were not used to fighting a hidden foe, and were appalled by the death in their midst as well as by the wild cries and war whoops that echoed from the forest. Braddock, waving his sword, ordered his platoons to wheel and advance in solid formation into the woods—and the platoons were wiped out like sheep in a slaughter pit as they tried to obey the hopeless order. But the despised Virginia militia, experienced in Indian fighting, spread out in open order at the head of the column and kept the enemy in check, while Braddock with hopeless bravery attempted to rally his men. It was in vain. The dismal cries and yells continued. The bullets sang overhead like a swarm of wasps, British officers dropped at the shots of invisible sharpshooters, who picked them off easily on account of their conspicuous uniforms. Braddock himself, as brave a man as ever lived, had four horses killed under him and then received a mortal wound. Washington, whose advice had been laughed at, took command of the Virginians and covered the headlong rout of the British regulars, who threw away their rifles and ran blindly into the woods. How Washington escaped alive is nothing less than a miracle. Like Braddock, he had several horses killed under him, and four bullets pierced his uniform. He seemed everywhere at once and showed the most conspicuous bravery, but all he could do was to save the lives of the flying Britishers. With whoops of victory the Indians scalped the wounded, dressed themselves in the red coats of the slain and showed their hideous painted faces beneath the cocked hats of British officers. And the French, who held the fort that Braddock had intended to capture, fired their cannon in rejoicing at a victory that forever killed the prestige of British arms in the New World. For hitherto the British soldier had been thought invincible, and this exhibition of crass stupidity and bungling gave the colonials a different opinion of British arms. The British were brave it is true, but they could not adjust themselves to meet the enemy on their own ground,—and in all history the Briton has shown himself clumsy in the guerilla warfare of the type that won the Revolution for the Americans.
A few years after this tragic affair Washington married Martha Parke Custis, a young widow with two children. Washington's love affair with Martha Custis was not the first in his life. He had paid attention to other young beauties and had shown himself a true Virginian in his hearty appreciation of the ladies.
With his marriage there commenced the home life at Mount Vernon that has become so famous in history, and the hospitality for which George and Martha Washington have ever been famous. Washington was fond of the good things of life, and his great house at Mount Vernon was filled with visitors, with whom he hunted and passed his leisure hours in many delightful ways. But his eye for business was no less keen on account of his pleasures, and eventually he came to be looked on as the leading man in the affairs of the colony. His commanding appearance, his wonderful self-control and his military prestige, coupled with the dignity and gravity of his manner, made him as prominent among men as he had been among boys.
The attitude toward "provincials" that brought about Braddock's fatal error because he could not listen to advice, was destined now to bring to England the loss of her valuable colonies in America. The English looked down on the Americans and patronized them because they did not understand them. They regarded the American Colonies too much in the light of a supply house to enrich the Crown and the Mother Country, and too little as the home of a brave and self-reliant people who came of the most sterling English stock themselves. The colonists bitterly resented the unjust laws that compelled them to ship their produce to British ports and to engage in no form of industry that might cripple British enterprise. And when the British Government imposed taxes on the colonists that were not imposed on British subjects in England, indignation rose to white heat, and riots and hot speeches broke out everywhere, particularly in New England.
The "stamp act," which compelled the colonists to transact all their legal business on paper bearing the stamp of the British Government, and sold only by British agents, awoke the wrath of Virginia as well as of New England. The cry of "no taxation without representation" rang from Georgia to Massachusetts. The oratory of Patrick Henry added fuel to the righteous indignation in every American's breast, and when the British in response to public feeling removed all unwarranted taxes except one—the tax on tea, a party of young men dressed as Indians sacked the cargo of a British vessel in Boston, and poured the chests of tea into the harbor.
Parliament retaliated. Penalties were imposed on Massachusetts. The Virginian House of Burgesses was forbidden to meet by the King's order, and meeting in spite of this order it called for a General Congress of all the Colonies to decide what measures were to be taken to defend the rights of the American provinces.
Washington, as one of Virginia's leading men, naturally was among those who represented the colony at this congress, which met in Carpenter's Hall in Philadelphia. He was listened to with respect and attention, and was considered to have the sanest viewpoint and the widest fund of information of any delegate there. The question of armed revolt against England was still in the background, but Washington was in favor of a resort to arms only after all other measures had failed and as a last resort. He was ready and willing to fight if fighting must come, however, and we have his statement when he heard of how the people of Boston were laboring under unjust British measures, "I will raise a thousand men," said Washington, "subsist them at my own expense and march with them, at their head, for the relief of Boston."
At last it was seen that no other way to escape slavery existed than to fight. And Washington was one of the first to devote his life and fortune to the Revolutionary cause.