Washington’s choice to make himself obnoxious on the route question reflected more than a military judgment. As Bouquet and Forbes concluded, Washington was speaking as a Virginian. He made certain that his superiors in Williamsburg knew how strongly he urged the Virginia option. The Pennsylvania route, he assured the new governor, Francis Fauquier, would “forebode our manifest ruin.” A month later, he lamented, “What a golden opportunity we have lost!” To Speaker Robinson, he wailed, “All is lost,” adding that “nothing but a miracle can bring this campaign to a happy issue.” He blamed crafty Pennsylvanians, who “prejudiced the General absolutely against the [Braddock] road.”14
Washington’s choice to oppose his army commanders—having previously made an enemy of Dinwiddie—reflected his plan to leave military service; that left little reason to accede quietly to decisions he thought wrong. For his post-military career, it would be more important to have defended Virginia’s interests; he would never again seek preferment from the British Army.
Yet Washington’s advocacy showed a blindness to Forbes’s concerns, which undermined his message. Twenty years hence, a wiser Washington would carefully invite the views of others on key decisions, often asking for them in writing so he could study them at leisure. That later Washington was more often criticized as indecisive than as impulsive.
* * *
In early summer, while Forbes and Bouquet organized the Fort Duquesne expedition, Washington took a decisive step toward his political career. In June, Governor Fauquier called for elections to the House of Burgesses. Unlike three years before, when Washington did nothing to press his candidacy, this time he proceeded methodically toward a contest in Frederick County, which involved challenging two incumbents. He did not fit his constituency all that well. With his aspirations to ascend Virginia’s planter hierarchy, Washington stood apart from many of the people whose votes he needed. Frederick’s voters included many Germans and Irish settled on small farms. Washington had sometimes disparaged county residents, calling them “a parcel of barbarians and an uncouth set of people.” He had dismissed Winchester as “a vile hole” and had crusaded against the town’s tavernkeepers, denouncing them for selling liquor to soldiers.15
Yet running in Frederick involved some shrewd calculation. Though he did not live there, his ties to the area were strong. He had surveyed there, owned the Bullskin properties there plus a few lots in Winchester, where his regimental headquarters was. To settlers who had faced Indian raids for three years, Washington was their protector. He also was boosting their economy by building Fort Loudoun in Winchester. Lord Fairfax still owned much of the county and Washington would lean on the Fairfax connection. Indeed, he joined his candidacy with that of Thomas Bryan Martin, a nephew of Lord Fairfax who helped run the family land business. With Fairfax support came the votes of Fairfax tenants. Washington also enlisted support from the founder of Winchester, from the Shenandoah valley’s leading lawyer, and from the commander of Fort Loudoun.16
Washington’s adversaries argued that his military duties would keep him from legislative work. To counter the claim, Washington’s friends urged him to come to Winchester for Election Day. A key supporter insisted that if Washington was in Winchester, “I can then promise success.” As the day drew close, the fort commander warned Washington that many “pretended friends, . . . now seem doubtful, and will not promise whether they’ll give you a vote or not.”17
Washington was undecided about leaving the regiment to attend the poll in Winchester. Colonel Bouquet grudgingly granted him leave for the trip, but duty won out over self-interest. Washington stayed with the army, fearing that if an emergency arose while he was absent, he would be criticized.18
Nevertheless, the poll went off seamlessly, beginning with the county’s leading citizens. Lord Fairfax voted first, for Washington. Then came another supporter, then John Carlyle (the Fairfax son-in-law), then Fielding Lewis, married to Washington’s sister. Washington won the votes of “gentlemen,” three ministers, and nine voters with military titles. His total was 305 votes; Martin came next with 240. For the voters, the absent Washington paid for 160 gallons of wine, beer, rum punch, and cider, which represented roughly a half gallon of liquor for each vote, at a cost of just over 2 shillings apiece. To a supporter, Washington wrote that his “only fear is that you spent with too sparing a hand.” The well-lubricated celebrants carried Washington’s campaign chief around town in triumph. When Washington received the poll sheet, he created a second sheet that alphabetized the voters, for future reference. He did not intend this to be his last election.19
Until he took his seat in the assembly, Washington would continue with the regiment, serving under two senior officers who now viewed him skeptically. His goal was Fort Duquesne, which he had first targeted four years before. Taking the fort could serve as a capstone to his military career and springboard to a public career. Failing again would be a final embarrassment.
Chapter 15
The Push to Fort Duquesne
The 1758 advance on Fort Duquesne, like Braddock’s three years before, became an exercise in road construction. Soldiers put aside their muskets for picks and shovels. Wagon hulks and smashed casks littered the roadside while rain turned clay soil into impassable goop. To cut one portion of road required more than 1,400 men. Colonial newspapers chronicled each step of the advance, impatient for success. Reporting to Prime Minister Pitt, Forbes blamed the forest, “an immense uninhabited wilderness overgrown everywhere with trees and underbrush, so that nowhere can anyone see twenty yards.”1
One difference between the Braddock and Forbes expeditions loomed large: Braddock had neared Fort Duquesne in early July, the heart of the fighting season, while Forbes was still far from the fort when the weather turned cold. With Virginia enlistments expiring on December 1, Forbes was racing the calendar.
The British training in bushfighting skills helped little. In mid-September, a force of nearly 800 British and colonial troops (Virginians, but not Washington’s regiment) crashed ahead of the roadbuilders to the threshold of Fort Duquesne, hoping to use surprise to inflict a quick reverse, maybe even carry the fort. Once again, French and Indian defenders fired from cover, driving the attackers into panicky retreat. Once again, the casualty figures were lopsided. The British lost 300 dead, more wounded and missing. Forbes, unaware of the thrust beforehand, denounced the officer in charge, whose “thirst of fame [had] brought on his own perdition, and run a great risk of ours.”2
By November, the situation was dire. “Our affairs,” Washington wrote to the governor, “are drawing to a crisis.” The soldiers lacked warm clothes. Provisions were short. The enlistment clock was ticking. Even if the attackers captured the fort, how would they endure the winter? Washington raised these questions in a letter to Bouquet, adding that whichever course the army took, “not a moment’s time is left for hesitation.” In the letter, Washington thought like an army commander, not a subordinate pursuing a personal agenda.3
Washington attended a council of war on November 11 that reviewed the risks he had identified, plus the army’s ignorance of the French defenses, the danger of losing their artillery (as Braddock had), and the recognition that “defeat would be catastrophic.” The council decided to abandon the advance.4
Before the army could turn around, news arrived of an approaching French force. Forbes sent Captain George Mercer with 500 Virginians to track it down. When he heard gunfire, Forbes dispatched Washington with more Virginians to support Mercer. In the fading light of an early winter sunset, the Virginia units opened fire on each other. Before the blundering ended, fourteen Virginians lay dead and more than thirty were wounded. Thirty years later, Washington claimed he was never in “more imminent danger” than when caught between those contending Virginians.5
Yet Washington salvaged something essential from the tragic botch. On that foray, his detachment took three prisoners, two Indians and an Englishman who
had deserted from the French. The French at Fort Duquesne, the English prisoner reported, were few, had no tribal allies, and lacked supplies or reinforcements. They were dispirited and desperate.6
The news energized the British, who headed back into the woods with shovels and axes. After several days, Forbes ordered 2,500 men—with Washington’s regiment in the lead—to push ahead without baggage. Forbes ordered dogs sent to the rear or hanged; no barking would disclose the British approach.7
On the night of November 24, a week before the Virginians would go home, an Indian scout reported a smoke plume from the direction of Fort Duquesne. Either the fort had suffered an accidental catastrophe or the French were burning it. Washington and the leading units hurried through the last twelve miles of forest, arriving at the Forks after sunset. The French were gone, floating downriver. The fort’s ruins smoldered in the dark. The victory, won with neither battle nor glory, brought no treasure, not even provisions. Outside the fort’s ruins lay the corpses of British soldiers who had been taken prisoner. Some were charred and tomahawked. It was a somber anticlimax of a victory, but the triumph was real.
In his report to Governor Fauquier, Washington called winning the fort “a matter of great surprise,” caused by French “weakness, want of provisions, and the desertion of their Indians.” He gave Forbes full credit.
Suffering terribly from the bloody flux, Forbes was only slightly more upbeat, noting that Britain had seized a “fine rich country” while achieving peace with most Indians.8 But winter was coming and the army was vulnerable. “The men are greatly reduced,” Bouquet admitted, “deficient of every necessary, half naked, without shoes, and without means of getting any.” Forbes and most of his troops turned back to Philadelphia, where the general soon died. Virginians would hold the fort—renamed Fort Pitt—through the cold months. Washington, however, left to deliver his report in Williamsburg.9
* * *
Once the British controlled the Forks of the Ohio, the crisis on Virginia’s frontier largely ended. The western tribes accepted peace with Britain and its colonists. A Philadelphia newspaper predicted happy times: “Our back settlements, instead of being frightful fields of blood, will once more smile with peace and plenty.”10
Though Washington had fought for four long years to pacify the frontier, the success was not his. He could claim no battlefield triumph, only the sad memory of the “friendly fire” encounter with Mercer’s troops. Forbes, having ignored Washington’s advice on which route to follow, had succeeded. Washington had largely alienated those to whom he had reported—Dinwiddie, Forbes, Bouquet, and Loudoun.
He had, however, seen the difficult business through and still stood as Virginia’s premier military man. By 1758 the Virginia Regiment had emerged as likely the best colonial military body, an extension of Washington’s sense of duty and discipline. He could take satisfaction in the allegiance of his officers, the men who knew him best. As one officer wrote, Washington was “an example of fortitude in either danger or hardships, and by his easy, polite behavior, has gained not only the regard but affection of both officers and soldiers.” With Washington’s departure from the regiment imminent, the officers expressed dismay at losing “such an excellent commander, such a sincere friend, and so affable a companion.” Imploring Washington to continue another year, they paid tribute to his “steady adherence to impartial justice, [his] quick discernment and invariable regard to merit.” They called him “the actuating soul of the whole corps.” In reply, Washington thanked his officers for “the love and regard you have all along shown me. It is in this, I am rewarded. It is herein I glory.” 11
Washington’s experience with the Virginia Regiment would shape the general he became in the Revolutionary War. He learned the importance of logistics, paperwork, and organization. Having observed military professionals at close quarters, he understood how to issue clear orders, how to command, and the importance of controlling his temper. He also strove to be fair. When he took command of the Virginia Regiment in 1756, he promised “to study merit and reward the brave and deserving. . . . Partiality shall never bias my conduct, nor shall prejudice injure any.” As his officers attested, he remained true to that pledge of “invariable regard to merit,” a contrast with the British practice of selling military offices. During the next war, Washington would promote able officers, not rich ones.12
His early military service also revealed weaknesses. His lack of connection with common soldiers showed in his enthusiasm for harsh discipline. He was often too disgusted by the militia to use them well. He acquired little actual combat experience and never commanded a large unit. Perhaps most troubling, he could be impatient, self-promoting, and ready to leapfrog the chain of command. He disparaged Governor Dinwiddie and General Forbes to others. His sensitivity to criticism—perhaps the corollary of his aching need to win the regard of others—too often led to threats to resign.13
Washington seems to have learned from his missteps. During the Revolutionary War, his patience and deference to his civilian superiors, as well as his deft political maneuvering, would become hallmarks. Moreover, Washington’s experience with the Virginia Regiment provided specific lessons in how to fight an American war. Many of the same challenges recurred in the second conflict: shortages of provisions and arms, balky political masters, short enlistments and widespread desertions, inconsistent pay, and inexperienced recruits. In both contests, a third force (the Indians in the first war, the French in the second) held the balance of power and had to be courted.
Most telling, the Forbes expedition illustrated the difference between strategic success and battlefield laurels. During the 1758 advance, the French and Indians prevailed in every significant encounter, but they lost the key strategic point they were defending. The British aimed to win control of the Forks, and they did. That experience would help Washington endure sometimes grim losses during the Revolutionary War. Battlefield triumphs, he had seen, did not guarantee final victory.14
Washington’s years with the Virginia Regiment also fostered within him a deep disillusionment with Britain, which had resolutely excluded him from its army. That army’s senior officers—save for the disgraced Braddock—had never recognized his worth, unable to see past his identity as a provincial. Yet, almost perversely, they were correct that Washington was not suited to a career in their stratified, class-bound institution. Throughout his life, Washington would be largely blind to the social and financial backgrounds of colleagues. Repeatedly, he advanced subordinates from modest backgrounds, solely on the basis of merit. Such an attitude was rare in the British Army and might well have held him back. His exclusion from that army, combined with the disdain with which British officers treated provincials, changed his path. He would never travel again beyond North America, and would never see the great buildings or glittering courts of Europe.15
Similarly, the history of America would have been very different if Washington had found a place in the British military. Perhaps, if his imperial masters had accepted him as an equal, some other person would have stepped forward to lead the American rebellion, to guide the nation to a new form of government, and to establish that government on a stable foundation. Then again, American rebels might have had to face British forces led by George Washington of Virginia, with his understanding of American ways and aspirations. But at the end of 1758, when Washington rode off from Fort Duquesne (now Fort Pitt), he turned away from the empire he had grown up in. He would be an American first, and only an unenthusiastic subject of the king.
From his four years on the frontier, Washington also learned that the British Army could stumble badly. In two major campaigns, he never saw it prevail in battle. His later conduct showed his belief that he was the equal of any British officer. That confidence would be invaluable when the time came to fight against Britain. In that contest, he would promote few officers with experience in the British Army, preferring Americans with talent but less experience. O
n the frontier, he also learned the value of luck. He had walked away from bloody failures at Fort Necessity and with Braddock. He knew he had been fortunate to survive and to retain his good reputation. While leading the Continental Army nearly two decades later, he admitted “grateful remembrance of the escape we had at the Meadows and on the banks of the Monongahela.”16
For other Americans, too, the French and Indian War eroded their regard for British might. One Virginian suggested that although Americans had acted in the conflict as “dutiful children” of their “common mother,” he now entertained the idea of “the children doing well without the parent.” He added, “God only knows . . . what grand revolutions may be ripe for birth.”17
For the new year of 1759, however, Washington’s focus was on his impending marriage and prospects as a gentleman politician. Just as ambition and a thirst for public reputation marked his years as a military man, they would remain central to his next stage of life.
Chapter 16
Washington in Love
To prepare for married life, the methodical Washington paid his property taxes, settled some financial accounts, and totted up his land holdings (4,715 acres in Fairfax and Frederick Counties).1 He and Martha married on January 6, 1759, at or near Martha’s home in New Kent County, with a few close relatives present. The Washingtons remained there for several weeks while the Mount Vernon renovations continued, allowing Washington to learn about Martha’s property, which Virginia law confided to his control as her husband.2
More than three months before the ceremony, while part of the advance on Fort Duquesne, Washington wrote a letter to Sally Fairfax, wife of his best friend, George William Fairfax. That letter has become notorious. Many have concluded that it reveals Washington’s passion for Mrs. Fairfax, a conclusion that humanizes Washington by showing him the slave of a love that nearly burst his heart, while also painting him as a cad, cheating on his fiancée by making an unsubtle play for his best friend’s wife. The truth of the incident is elusive.
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