Empires at War

by Jr. , William M. Fowler

  Fifty miles to the west, at the forks, the French were at work. Contre­coeur's engineer, Captain François-Marc-Antoine Le Mercier, laid out a plan for a fort to accommodate a garrison of three hundred men. Mercier's plan followed the style, although not the scale, of Sebastian Vauban's grand fortresses of Europe and was fashioned from wood rather than stone.25

  For weeks Contrecoeur and Mercier had heard reports of the approaching English. While they moved quickly to prepare for the enemy's arrival, they were not overly concerned. From his scouting reports Contrecoeur knew that the Virginians were few in number, lightly armed, and were more likely en route to parley than to fight. On May ?3 Contrecoeur dispatched a thirty-man patrol under the command of Ensign Joseph Coulon de Villiers de Jumonville to gather information about the English and, if possible, meet with them to order them from the king's lands.

  Shortly after the Virginians arrived at Great Meadows, Christopher Gist, Washington's companion on his previous western foray, rode into camp. He reported that the day before a party of Frenchmen had been by his house, and that he had seen their tracks not more than a mile from Washington's position. That evening Silverheels, a messenger from Tanaghrisson, arrived. The chief was encamped six miles away, and he, like Gist, warned that French were in the area. Washington, "fearing" that "the French [planned] to attack" his camp, roused his companies, warned the main body to be on guard, and then left with forty men to search out the French.26 Led by Sil­verheels, Washington and his men "tumbled" single file into "a night as dark as pitch." A heavy rain fell, making the way treacherous and uncertain. At sunrise they arrived at Tanaghrisson's camp.

  The chief had less than a dozen warriors with him, but combined with Washington's forty men the two leaders believed that they were strong enough to challenge the French party, particularly if they took them by surprise. Tanaghrisson and Washington agreed that they would "attack them together." Two scouts went ahead; the rest followed. Wet, tired, and inexperienced, Washington's men moved in the predawn darkness toward the French.

  Not far away, Jumonville and his men had made camp in the bowl of a small glen cluttered with rocks and boulders. To keep their weapons dry, several of the French had stacked their arms off to the side in the shelter of a large rock. By seven in the morning the sun was beginning to chase the morning mist away. The French were just rousing. Contrary to good discipline, Jumonville had failed to post sentries. Silently, and without being detected, the English and Indians surrounded them.

  In the 250 years since the battle at the place now called Jumonville Glen, historians have debated the sequence of events that followed Washington's arrival.27 It seems likely that as Washington maneuvered his men into position, a sleepy Frenchman detected them. He called the alarm to his fellows, and they went for their muskets. But before the French could raise and cock their weapons, Washington ordered his men to volley. The French returned fire as best they could, but it was an unequal exchange. Some French ran for cover, only to be intercepted by Tanaghrisson's men. One lucky Frenchman was off in the woods for his morning toilet. He escaped and eventually made his way back to Duquesne with the bad news. The fight was over in fewer than fifteen minutes. Before Washington could get down the slope to the French camp, Tanaghrisson's men rushed in to scalp the dead and wounded. When Washington regained control, Tanaghrisson demanded that he turn over the prisoners to him. Washington refused. Casualties among the Virginians were one man killed and three wounded; among the French, ten dead—Jumonville among them—and twenty-one taken as prisoners. This was Washington's first experience in combat. The young colonel reported to the governor, "I heard the bullets whistle, and, believe me there is something charming in the sound."28 Fearful that other French might be nearby, Washington left the enemy dead unburied and hurried back to Great Meadows with his prisoners. After a brief interrogation he sent the prisoners to Wills Creek.

  In his official report Washington took great care to place blame for the fight on the French. But the small size of the French force, and the fact that the Virginians fired first, belied his words. Moreover, the French survivors claimed that they were on an "embassy." Washington scoffed at the notion and charged that they were spies. As for Tanaghrisson, he explained that the French were of "bad Hearts" and thereby deserving of their fate.29 It remains an open question wiry Washington felt compelled to attack a sleeping camp without warning at a time when the two nations were at peace.

  George Washington, some years after the French and Indian War, painted by Charles Willson Peale.

  Dinwiddie found Washington's explanation less than persuasive. In a politic move to evade responsibility, he told his London superiors: "This little skirmish was by the Half King and the Indians. We were auxiliaries to them, as my orders to the commander of our forces was to be on the defensive." The lieutenant governor suspected that, in the words of Sir Horace Walpole, Washington may well have "set the world on fire."30

  Expecting that the French would retaliate, Washington decided to fortify the encampment at Great Meadows. Ever the optimist, he reported to Dinwiddie, "We have, with Nature's assistance, made a good Intrenchment, and, by clearing the Bushes out of these Meadows, prepar'd a charming field for an Encounter."31 Washington's "good Intrenchment" (soon to be christened Fort Necessity) consisted of a round wooden stockade about fifty-three feet in diameter. In the center was a crude storehouse to protect provisions and powder from the rain and, if need be, to serve as a hospital. No more than fifty men could fit within such a small palisade. Outside the palisade Washington laid out a series of trenches and covered sites. He was full of himself and cocky. He told Dinwiddie that he looked forward to "driving [the French] to Montreal."32

  On June 2 Tanaghrisson arrived at the fort with nearly one hundred warriors accompanied by their wives and children. Washington tried to persuade the chief to send the women and children farther east. He refused, so Washington was saddled with feeding them. Within a few days everyone was on short rations. Hoping to persuade other tribes in the area to rally to the English, Tanaghrisson sent emissaries off to villages, bearing scalps taken from Jumonville's men. Brandishing these icons of victory, Tanaghrisson's messengers asked the local chiefs to meet at Gist's plantation.

  A week after Tanaghrisson's arrival, the two companies Washington had left at Alexandria (under Captains Stobo and Lewis) marched in, adding no men to Washington's little army. A few days later 100 more men emerged from the wood line and came toward the fort. They were South Carolinians under the command of Captain James Mackay. At first Washington welcomed them, but that good feeling evaporated quickly when Mackay refused to put himself or his men under Virginia's command. The issue was more than simply Virginia's authority versus South Carolina's. Mackay held a royal commission under the king's hand, whereas Washington's authority was from a mere governor. Any officer holding a commission directly from the king, no matter the rank, was superior to any colonial. Mackay was pleasant enough, but it was clear that he would not put himself under Washington's authority. He and his men remained aloof and distant.

  Although concerned about the French, Washington was determined to complete the road to Redstone Creek. Leaving his men to work on this road, he rode to Gist's plantation to meet with the Indian delegations summoned by Tanaghrisson. For three days Washington and Tanaghrisson tried to persuade the visitors to join them. It was hopeless. The Six Nations Council at Onondaga had sent word to their Ohio brothers that they should stay neutral in this quarrel between the white men. But even without Onondaga's instructions they were realistic enough to know that, for the moment at least, the French were clearly stronger.

  While Washington courted Indians and pushed his road closer to Redstone Creek, Contrecoeur prepared a force to deliver a counterstroke. A few days before this force planned to leave "300 savages and 50 Frenchmen" commanded by François Coulon de Villiers, Jumonville's older brother, came upriver from Fort Chartres in the Illinois country. When he learned the sad news of his brother's death an
d the questionable circumstances of the encounter, de Villiers asked Contrecoeur for the honor of commanding the retaliatory expedition. De Villiers left Duquesne at the head of five hundred men on June 28.33

  A few hours later, Indian runners were on their way to Washington, carrying news of the approaching French force. Hurriedly, Washington called in his road-building crews and prepared his defenses. Exhausted by the incessant work on the roads, and weak from being on short rations, his men required two full days to assemble at Great Meadows. Had they been stronger, it would have made sense for Washington to retreat the fifty miles to Wills Creek. Understanding that a retreat carried out by exhausted, hungry, ill-trained, and frightened men might turn into a rout, a council of war recommended a stand at Great Meadows.

  After a four-day march from Duquesne, de Villiers came to the place where his brother had died. Scavengers and the summer heat made the bodies unrecognizable. The stench was overwhelming. The French paused to bury their dead and then continued on their march.

  The next morning, July 3, de Villiers stood at the edge of the wood line on the southwest side of the meadow in full view of the stockade. The French outnumbered the English by about two to one. They advanced across the field toward the English position in three columns. Washington and Mackay formed their men in ranks in front of the entrenchments. The French halted, fired a volley, and continued their approach. As they drew nearer, Washington ordered his men to fall back into the prepared trenches. With surprising precision the men followed the colonel's orders. Not wishing to risk a frontal assault against a protected enemy, the French withdrew and set out to invest the fort.34

  Washington's men held their ground, and soon there was a steady exchange of fire. The French had better cover, and their fire was more telling. Not only did the English have to dodge enemy fire, but their position was uncomfortable in the extreme. While the sick and wounded were within the stockade, most of the men were hunkered down in shallow trenches. For ten hours the French kept up a steady fire on them. Casualties mounted. In the afternoon heavy rains poured down, making everyone miserable. Rising water and mud exhausted the men and fouled their weapons.

  At eight in the evening the French called a cease-fire and summoned Washington to parley. He answered that no French soldier would be allowed within his fort. The French invited Washington to send someone to their camp, and he agreed. Only two of Washington's officers spoke French, Ensign William La Peyronie and Jacob Van Braam. La Peyronie had been wounded, and he had to be assisted to the French camp by Van Braam. After the customary pleasantries negotiations began. Both sides knew that the Virginians were beaten. De Villiers told the two officers that since England and France were not at war, he was willing to grant generous terms. Washington and his men must surrender their position, but they would be free to return home. He warned them, however, that the Virginians must accept these terms quickly, for should they delay he could not guarantee the good behavior of his Indian allies.

  Van Braam and La Peyronie reported de Villiers's offer to Washington, who had little choice but to accept it, insisting only that the terms be put in writing. La Peyronie, too weak from his wounds to return to the French camp, remained with Washington. Van Braam walked through the lines alone. The Dutchman was gone for what many thought to be an unusually long time, but he eventually returned with two sheets of paper. These were the terms, written in duplicate, both copies in French. Washington had to depend upon Van Braam to translate. Neither French nor English was Van Braam's first language, so the work was difficult. Captain Adam Stephen later described the scene: "When Mr. Van Braam returned with the French proposals, we were obliged to take the sense of them by word of mouth: it rained so heavily that he could not give us a written translation of them; we could scarcely keep the candle light to read them; they were wrote in a bad hand, on wet blotted paper so that no person could read them but Van Braam who had heard them from the mouth of the French officer."35

  The seven articles of the capitulation were unremarkable. They allowed for the Virginians to leave the fort with all their possessions minus any artillery. Washington would be accorded the "honors of war," that is, a ceremonial departure. Since the Virginians had no wagons, the French agreed that they might leave their belongings at the fort to be picked up later. Finally, to ensure that the French soldiers captured at Jumonville Glen and transported east were returned, Captains Stobo and Van Braam would remain with the French as hostages.

  Alas, Van Braam was a clumsy translator, and although he paid attention to the actual terms, he gave less notice to the preamble.

  Capitulation granted by Mons. De Villier, captain of infantry and commander of troops of his most Christian Majesty, to those English troops actually in the fort of Necessity which was built on the lands of the King's dominions July the 3rd, at eight o'clock at night, 1754.

  As our intention has never been to trouble the peace and good harmony which reigns between the two friendly princes, but only to revenge the assassination [emphasis added] which has been done on one of our officers, bearer of a summons, upon his party, as also to hinder any establishment on the lands of the dominions of the King, my master; upon these considerations, we are willing to grant protection or favor, to all the English that are in the said fort, upon the conditions hereafter mentioned.

  Van Braam carelessly skipped over the word assassination and translated it simply as "killing," thus removing the sinister meaning. Washington signed and thereby admitted his "crime."

  At daybreak on the fourth of July two ranks of French soldiers came to attention in Great Meadows. To the steady beat of a French drum, Washington and his men marched between the lines. They moved to a far corner of the meadow and looked back as the French, amid a series of salutes, entered the stockade and raised the fleur-de-lis. A few hours later Washington gave the command, and his somber column fell in for the long march east.

  Tanaghrisson and his men slipped away quietly to return to their villages. The surrender of Fort Necessity was a stunning blow for them. Tanaghrisson had put his reputation and that of his Iroquois overlords on the line. He had assured Delaware, Shawnee, and other tribes that the English would defeat the French. The capitulation at Great Meadows undermined both English and Iroquois authority. Disgraced, Tanaghrisson returned to the village of Aughwick,* where, a few weeks later, he died. Never comfortable under Iroquois domination, the western tribes saw the advantage to cozying up to the French. In August, during a hastily called meeting of Delaware and Iroquois representatives, Beaver, a Delaware spokesman, looked directly at the Iroquois delegates and warned them that there was "a high Wind rising."36

  *Near present-day Erie, Pennsylvania.

  *Near present-day Venango, Pennsylvania.

  *Present-day Cumberland, Maryland.

  †Near present-day Louisville, Kentucky.

  *Near present-day Brownsville, Pennsylvania.

  *Near present-day Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

  (3)

  Braddock's March

  I have an hundred and ten miles to march through an

  uninhabitable wilderness over steep rocky mountains

  and almost impassable morass.

  —General Edward Braddock to Robert Napier,

  Fort Cumberland, June 8, 1755

  In the twisted skein of events leading to war, Washington's western disaster was critical, but it was only one thread in a complex tapestry. He, William Shirley, Colonel John Winslow, Lieutenant Governor Dinwiddie, and others were all participants in a rising drama being played out in several parts of the British Empire. The same summer that Washington encamped at Great Meadows and Winslow searched for French along the Kennebec River, representatives from several colonies were gathering at Albany to meet with delegates from the Six Nations.1 The Lords of Trade, the agency charged with regulating the administration of the colonies, were concerned about the freewheeling style that the colonies had developed in their relations with Indians.2 Each colony struck its own deals with loca
l tribes, paying scant regard to the interests of the other colonies or the Crown. Nowhere was this more apparent, or annoying, than in the chaos that passed for negotiation among the Iroquois and the northern colonies. Decentralization (a hallmark of British colonial policy in North America) left too much power in the hands of local authorities and gave rise to endless disputes over land and trade. In an attempt to take control, the Lords of Trade had instructed Sir Danvers Osborne, the newly appointed governor of New York, to call the meeting. Albany was chosen as the site for the convenience of the Iroquois. In addition to the Iroquois, Osborne was to invite representatives from the New England colonies plus Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania. Osborne left London bearing his instructions, but two days after stepping ashore at New York City he "was found in the lower part of Mr. Murray's Garden strangled in his Handkerchief." He had committed suicide. Lieutenant Governor James DeLancey was now in charge.3

  Mired in his own western debacle, Dinwiddie refused to send anyone to Albany. Pennsylvania hemmed and hawed but finally dispatched a delegation led by Benjamin Franklin.4 On June 19 the delegates, minus Virginia, took their seats in the Albany Court House, where Governor DeLancey called them to order.

  For the next five weeks the delegates squabbled. The New Yorkers were jealous that anyone should try to interfere with "their" Iroquois. To ensure that his colony's interests were served, DeLancey, over the objections of some delegates, took the chair and then refused to surrender it, claiming it as his right since he was the only governor present. By a dexterous wielding of the gavel, DeLancey controlled the agenda and stifled any attempt to discuss matters, such as crooked land dealings, that might embarrass his fellow New Yorkers.