he does not seem to have been very bright in that particular line," assented Mrs. Travilla, "but he was very brave; four horses were shot under him, and he mounted a fifth. All his aides were shot down but one – our Washington; though hardly well enough to sit in his saddle, he rode about the field delivering Braddock's orders to the troops, so making himself a conspicuous target for the enemy, who fired at him again and again, but could not kill him – did not even succeed in wounding him, though two horses were shot under him, and he sprang upon a third and went fearlessly on with his work."
"But he was not wounded. I remember reading that," said Elsie. "Surely, grandma, God took care of him, that he might after a while become the Father of his Country."
"Yes, God protected him, and that made it impossible for the foe to destroy him."
"But they killed Braddock, didn't they?" asked Ned.
"I don't know," replied Mrs. Travilla, "that Braddock was fatally wounded at that time, but I have seen an account of his fatal wounding, which may or not be true. It is thought that among the Americans who were in the fight were two of the name of Fausett – brothers – Thomas and Joseph. Thomas is said to have been a man of gigantic frame and of uncivilized, half savage propensities. It is said that he spent most of his life in the mountains, living as a hermit on the game that he killed. In the battle we are talking of he saw his brother behind a tree, saw Braddock ride up to him in a passion and strike him down with his sword. Tom Fausett drew up his rifle instantly and shot Braddock through the lungs, partly in revenge for the outrage upon his brother and partly, as he always declared, to get the general out of the way that he might sacrifice no more of the lives of the British and Americans."
"Why, grandma, did he want his own men killed?" asked Ned.
"No; but he was foolish, obstinate and determined to have his own way. Those who appointed him commander of that force made a great mistake. He was a good tactician, but proud, prejudiced and conceited. Talking with Benjamin Franklin, who was then postmaster-general, he said, 'After taking Fort Duquesne, I am to proceed to Niagara, and having taken that, to Frontenac, if the season will allow time, and I suppose it will, for Duquesne can hardly detain me above three or four days; and then I can see nothing that can obstruct my march to Niagara.' Franklin thought the plan excellent if he could take his fine troops safely to Fort Duquesne, but told him there might be danger from Indian ambuscades; the savages, shooting unexpectedly from their places of concealment in the woods, might destroy his army in detail. Braddock thought that an absurd idea, and replied that the Indians might be formidable enemies to raw American troops, but it was impossible they should make an impression upon the King's regular and disciplined troops. And, as I have already told you, that was the idea he acted upon in the fight, which is always spoken of as 'Braddock's defeat.' He insisted that his men should be formed in regular platoons; they fired by platoons – at the rocks, into the bushes and ravines, and so killed not enemies only, but many Americans – as many as fifty by one volley."
"Oh, how dreadful!" cried Elsie; "killing their own comrades instead of the enemies they were fighting."
"Grandma, did Tom Fausett's shot kill Braddock at once?" asked Ned.
"No; it was on the 9th of July he was shot, and he died on the evening of the 13th. It was on that day the remnant of his army went into camp at the Great Meadows. In the evening, after the fight, Braddock exclaimed, 'Who would have thought it?'
"Then he remained silent until a few minutes before he died, when he said, 'We should better know how to deal with them another time.' They buried him before daybreak in the road and levelled his grave with the ground, lest the Indians should find and mutilate his body. The chaplain had been wounded, and Washington read the burial service."
"At the Great Meadows, grandma?" asked Elsie.
"About a mile from Fort Necessity," replied Mrs. Travilla. "I have read that on the 17th the sick and wounded reached Fort Cumberland, and the next day Washington wrote to a friend that since his arrival there he had heard a circumstantial account of his own death and dying speech, and now he was taking the earliest opportunity of contradicting the first, and of giving the assurance that he had not yet composed the latter."
"Well, I hope he got the praise he deserved from somebody," said Elsie.
"Yes, he did," replied her grandma. "An eloquent and accomplished preacher, Rev. Samuel Davies, who a few years later became president of Princeton College, in a sermon to one of the companies organized after Braddock's defeat, after praising the zeal and courage of the Virginia troops, added: 'As a remarkable instance of this, I may point out to the public that heroic youth, Colonel Washington, whom I cannot but hope Providence has hitherto preserved in so signal a manner for some important service to his country.'"
"And doesn't it seem that that was what God preserved him for, grandma?" exclaimed Elsie, her eyes shining with pleasure.
"It does, indeed; God was very good to us in giving us such a leader for such a time as that of our hard struggle for the freedom which has made us the great and powerful nation that we now are."
"And we are not the only people that think very highly of Washington," remarked one of the cousins in a tone which was half assertive, half inquiring.
"No, indeed," replied Mrs. Travilla; "one English historian has said that Washington's place in the history of mankind is without a fellow, and Lord Brougham said more than once, 'It will be the duty of the historian in all ages to let no occasion pass of commemorating this illustrious man; and until time shall be no more will a test of the progress which our race has made in wisdom and virtue be derived from the veneration paid to the immortal name of Washington.'"
"That's high praise, grandma, isn't it?" said Eric Leland; "and I think our Washington deserved every word of it."
"As I do," she replied; "he was just, generous, disinterested – spending so many of the best years of his life in fighting for the freedom of his country, and that without a cent of pay – wise, fearless, heroic, self-sacrificing; he feared God, believed in Christ, was a man of prayer, fully acknowledging divine aid and direction in all that he attempted and all he accomplished. He was a wonderful man, a God-given leader to us in a time when such an one was sorely needed."
"When was the war quite over, grandma?" asked Ned.
"The treaty of peace was signed in Paris on the 20th of January, 1783," replied Mrs. Travilla. "News did not then fly nearly so fast as it does now, and it was not till the 17th of the following April that Washington received the proclamation of peace by our Congress. On the 19th of April, the anniversary of the shedding of the first blood of the war, at Lexington, eight years before, the cessation was proclaimed at the head of every regiment of the army. That was by Washington's general orders, in which he added, 'The chaplains of the several brigades will render thanks to Almighty God for all His mercies, particularly for His overruling the wrath of man to His own glory, and causing the rage of war to cease among the nations.'"
CHAPTER III
Noticing now that weak little Ned began to look weary and sleepy, Mrs. Travilla bade the other children go out and amuse themselves a while wherever they liked about the house and grounds; so they quietly left the room.
"Please don't go away, grandma. Please stay beside me while I take my nap," murmured the little fellow, opening his eyes to look up at her, then closing them again.
"No, darling, I won't," she said soothingly. "I have a book and am going to sit here beside you and read while you sleep."
Elsie and the others refreshed themselves with some lively sport upon the lawn; then the young guests, thinking it time to return to their homes,
