M. de Contrecœur, commandant of Fort du Quesne, had received information of all Braddock's movements from the Indians. With the view of embarrassing the English advance rather than of offering any serious resistance, he dispatched M. de Beaujeu, with 250 of the marine, or colony troops, toward the line of march which Braddock was expected to take; this detachment was afterward strengthened by about 600 Indians, principally Outamacs, and the united force took up a favorable position, where the underwood and long grass concealed them from the approaching enemy.
Intelligence of a contradictory nature as to the strength and movements of the French had been every day carried to the unfortunate Braddock by Indians professing to be his friends, and by doubly traitorous deserters. Still, under a fatal conviction of security, he had pursued his march, meeting with no interruption, except in taking "eight or nine scalps, a number much inferior to expectation." On the 8th of July, following the winding course which the difficulty of the country rendered necessary, he crossed the Monongahela River, encamped upon the bank at the opposite side from Fort du Quesne, and sent Sir John St. Clair forward to reconnoiter the enemy's fort. The quarter-master general was successful in attaining the desired information: he reported that the defenses were of timber, and that a small eminence lay close by, from whence red-hot shot could easily be thrown upon the wooden parapets.
At seven in the morning of the 9th of July, an advance guard of 400 men, under Colonel Gage, pushed on and took possession of the fords of the river, where it was necessary to recross, unopposed, but somewhat alarmed by the ominous appearance of a few Indians among the neighboring thickets. A little before mid-day the main body began to cross the broad stream with "colors flying, drums beating, and fifes playing the Grenadiers' March:" they formed rapidly on the opposite side, and, not having been interrupted in the difficult passage, recommenced their march in presumptuous security.
Three guides and six light horsemen led the way toward Fort du Quesne, through an open space in the forest, followed by the grenadiers of the 44th and 48th: flanking parties skirted the edge of the woods on both sides. The 44th regiment succeeded with two guns; behind them were the 48th, with the rest of the artillery and the general: the Virginian companies, in unwilling obedience, sullenly brought up the rear. In this order they advanced with as much regularity as the rough road permitted. When within seven miles of the fort, they left a steep conical hill to the right, and directed their march upon the extremity of the open space, where the path disappeared between the thickly-wooded banks of a small brook: so far all went well.
At length the guides and the light horse entered the "bush" in front and descended the slope toward the stream, while a number of axmen set vigorously to work felling the trees and clearing the underwood for the advance of the army, the grenadiers acting as a covering party. Suddenly from the dark ravine in front flashed out a deadly volley, and before the rattle of the musketry had ceased to echo, three fourths of the British advance lay dead and dying on the ground. The French had coolly taken aim from their unseen position, and singled out the officers with fatal effect, for every one was killed or wounded in that first discharge; only two-and-twenty of the grenadiers remained untouched; they hastily fired upon the copse containing their still invisible foes, then turned and fled. One of these random shots struck down the French chief, De Beaujeu, and for a short time checked the enemy's triumph. He was dressed like an Indian, but wore a large gorgiton to denote his rank. At the moment of his death he was waving his hat and cheering his men on at a running pace.
Braddock instantly advanced the 44th regiment to succor the front, and endeavored to deploy upon the open space, but simultaneously on all sides from the thick covert burst the war-whoop of the Indians, and a deadly fire swept away the head of every formation. The 44th staggered and hesitated. Sir Peter Halket and his son,[31] a lieutenant in the regiment, while cheering; them on, were shot dead side by side; Braddock's horse was killed, and two of his aids-de-camp wounded; the artillery, although without orders,[32] pressed to the front, and their leading guns plied the thickets with grape and canister, but in a few minutes all the officers and most of the gunners were stretched bleeding on the field. The broken remnant of the grenadiers who had formed the advance now fell back upon the disordered line, and threw it into utter confusion.
With stubborn purpose and useless courage the general strove to re-form his ruined ranks; most of the officers nobly stood by him, but the soldiers were seized with uncontrollable terror. Assailed on every side by foes, unseen save when a savage rushed out from his woody stronghold to tear the scalp from some fallen Englishman, they lost all order, and fell back upon the 48th, which was now rapidly advancing to their aid under Colonel Burton. Braddock, with these fresh troops, made several desperate efforts to gain possession of the conical hill, from whence a strong body of the French galled him intolerably, but his well-drilled ranks were broken by the close trees and rocks, and shattered by the flanking fire of the Indians. Again and again he endeavored to rally the now panic-stricken soldiers, without, however, any effectual movement of advance or retreat. His ill-judged valor was vain; the carnage increased, and with it his confusion. At length, after having had four horses shot under him, while still encouraging his men, a bullet shattered his arm and passed through his lungs. The luckless but gallant chief was placed in a wagon by Colonel Gage and hurried to the rear, although he was "very solicitous to be left on the field."[33]
The remains of the two British regiments now broke into utter disorder and fled, leaving all the artillery and baggage[34] in the hands of the enemy, and, worst of all, many of their wounded comrades, who were scalped by the Indians without mercy. This horrible occupation, and the plunder of the wagons, for a time interrupted the pursuers, and enabled Colonel Washington, the only mounted officer still unwounded, to rally the Virginian companies, who had as yet borne little share in the action. He succeeded in holding the banks of the Monongahela River[35] till the fugitives had passed, and then himself retired in tolerable order. One of his captains was Horatio Gates, afterward Burgoyne's conqueror in the Revolutionary war. This young officer distinguished himself by courage and conduct in the retreat, and was carried from the field severely wounded.
The routed army fled all through the night, and joined Colonel Dunbar the following evening at a distance of nearly fifty miles from the scene of their defeat.[36] Braddock ordered that the retreat should be immediately continued, which his lieutenant readily obeyed, as his troops were infected with the terror of the fugitives. A great quantity of stores were hurriedly destroyed, that the wounded officers and soldiers might have transport, and the remaining artillery was spiked and abandoned. The unfortunate general's sufferings increased hourly, aggravated by the most intense mental anguish. On the 12th of July, conscious of the approach of death, he dictated a dispatch acquitting his officers of all blame, and recommending them to the favor of his country: that night his proud and gallant heart ceased to beat. His dying words expressed that astonishment at his defeat which had continued to the last: "Who would have thought it! we shall know better how to deal with them another time."[37]
May he sleep in peace! With sorrow and censure, but not with shame, let his name be registered in the crowded roll of those who have fought and fallen for the rights and honor of England.