* 4 o O i ** '^ ^9"^ * sT ... °* ^oV* » ^-..9^^ ^°'nK M O .-?;w*^^^=^/^"^-- '^^^mm^^:Jz': THE FARMER BOY, HOW HE BECAME COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. BY UNCLE JUVINELL. EDITED BY 9G^a^^^^^^ WILLIAM M. THAYER, AUTHOR OF "THE PIONEER BOY," ETC. BOSTON: WALKER, WISE, AND COMPANY, 245, Washington Street. 18 64. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by WALKER, WISE, AND COIMPANY, in the Clerk's OfiSce of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts ^ k r ^ BOSTON : STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BT JOHN WILSON AND SON, No. 6, Water Street. INTEODUCTION. BY REV. WILLIAM M. THAYER. The reader will remember, that, in the preface of "The Printer Boy," I promised the next vol- ume should be " The Farmer Boy ; or. How George Washington became President." That pledge has never been redeemed, though some labor has been performed with reference to it. And now Providence seems to direct the fulfilment of the pro- mise by the pen of another, well known among youthful readers as that popular writer, " Uncle Ju- vineU." The advance sheets of a volume from his pen, upon the early hfe of Washington, have been placed in my hands for examination. I have carefully perused the work, and find it to be of so high a character, and so well adapted to the exigencies of the times, that I voluntarily abandon the idea of preparing the pro- posed volume myself, and most cordially recommend this work to the youth of our beloved land. I take this step with all the more readiness, when I learn that the author has persevered in his labors, though 4 INTRODUCTION. totally blind and almost deaf; and I gladly transfer the title which I proposed to give my own book to his excellent w^ork, well satisfied that the act will prove a public benefit. The reader w^ill find that Mr. Heady (Uncle Juvi- nell) has produced a very entertaining and instructive volume. It is written in a racy, S23rightly style, that cannot fail to captivate the mind. Partaking himself of the buoyancy and good humor of boyhood, the author is able to write for the boys in a manner that is at once attractive and profitable. He has written a live book of one, who, " though dead, yet speaketh." It is replete with facts, and lessons of wisdom. The virtues are taught both by precept and example, and the vices are held up in all their deformity to warn and save. Religion, too, receives its just tribute, and wears the crown of glory. The appearance of this volume is timely. Adapted as it is to magnify the patriotic virtues, and the priceless worth of the government under which we live, it will prove a valuable contribution to the juve- nile literature of the land. In this period of mighty struggles and issues, when our nation is groaning and travailing in pain to bring forth a future of sur- passing renown and grandeur, it is important to inspire the hearts of American youth by the noblest examples of patriotism and virtue. And such is Washington, the " Father of his Country." It is best that the young of this battling age should study his INTRODUCTION. & character and emulate his deeds. His life was the richest legacy that he could leave to unborn genera- tions, save the glorious Republic that he founded ; and well will it be for the youth of our country when that life becomes to them the stimulus to exalted aims. Then loyalty will be free as air, and rebellions be unknown ; then treason will hide its hydra-head, and our insulted flag wave in triumph where the last chain of slavery is broken. Tliis volume will do its part to hasten this consum- mation of our patriot-hopes. Over its pleasant pages, then, we extend the right hand of fellowship to its author, though a stranger to us. Long may his able pen hold out ! Widely may this his last work circulate ! Blessed may be the fruits ! W. M. T. Franklin, Mass., October, 1863. PREFACE. Our beloved country, my dear young readers, has passed through one great revolution ; and it is now in the midst of another, which promises to prove even more momentous in its consequences. Ejiowing, therefore, the deep and lasting impres- sion the great events of the day must needs produce upon your opening minds, the author of this book has been casting about him how he might contribute to your and the nation's good. As he is altogether bereft of sight, and nearly so of hearing, he is, of course, unable to Hft a hand in his country's defence, or raise his voice in her justification. But she has a future ; and for that he entertains an earnest hope, that through you, the rising generation, he may do something. To this end, therefore, he has written this volume, wherein he has endeavored to set forth, in a manner more calculated to attract and impress the youthful mind than has perhaps been heretofore attempted, the life and character of our good and great George Washington. [vii] Vm PREFACE. By so doing, he hopes to awaken In your minds a desire to imitate the example and emulate the vir- tues of this greatest and wisest of Americans. For should he succeed in this, and thereby influence a thousand of you, when arrived at man's estate, to remain loyal to your country in her hour of peril (who might else have been tempted to turn their hand against her) , then shall his humble pen have done more for her future welfare than he could have done for her present deliverance, had he the wielding of a thousand swords. And, should he ever have reason to suppose that such were really the case, far happier would he be, even in the dark and silent depths of his solitude, than the renowned victor of a hundred battle-fields, in all the blaze and noise of popular applause. Hop- ing that this little book may, for your sakes, fulfil the object for which it was written, and prove but the beginning of a long and pleasant acquaintance, he will conclude by begging to subscribe himself your true friend and well-wisher,. MORRISON HEADY. Elk Ckeek, Spencer County, Ky., 1863. CONTENTS. Introduction .... * 17 WHEREIN IT WILL APPEAR WHO UNCLE JUVINELL IS, AND HOW HE CAME TO WRITE THE LIFE OP " THE FARMER BOY » FOR THE LITTLE FOLKS. I. George at School 35 IN WHICH THE YOUNG READER WILL FIND SOME ACCOUNT OP THE BIRTH, CHILDHOOD, AND EARLY EDUCATION OF GEORGE WASHINGTON, AND THE STORY OF HIS LITTLE HATCHET ; FROM WHICH HE MAY DRAW A WHOLESOME MORAL, IF HE BE DESIROUS OF GROWING IN VIRTUE ; TOGETHER WITH OTHER MATTERS OF INTEREST AND IMPORTANCE HARDLY TO BE FOUND ELSEWHERE. n. The First Sorrow 46 SHOWING HOW GEORGE MET WITH THE FIRST GREAT SORROW OF HIS LIFE IN THE DEATH OF HIS FATHER ; AND HOW HIS MOTHER WAS LEFT A YOUNG WIDOW, WITH THE CARE OF A LARGE FAMILY ; WITH SOME REMARKS ON THE PRUDENCE AND WISDOM SHE DIS- PLAYED IN THE REARING OF EEER CHILDREN ; TOGETHER WITH THE STORY OF THE SORREL COLT, WHICH UNCLE JUVINELL INTRODUCES BY WAY OF ILLUSTRATING THE CHARACTERS OF BOTH MOTHER AND SON. [ix] X CONTENTS. ni. Flaying Soldier 54 WHEREIN THE YOUNG READER WILL FIND HOW GEORGE FIGURED AS A LITTLE SOIxDIER AT SCHOOL ; WITH SOME REMARKS TOUCHING HIS WONDERFUL STRENGTH AND ACTIVITY OF BODY, AND COURAGE OF SPIRIT ; AND HOW HE WOULD HAVE FIGURED AS A LITTLE SAILOR, HAD HE NOT BEEN PREVENTED BY A MOTHER'S ANXIOUS LOVE ; WHICH INFLUENCED NOT ONLY THE WHOLE COURSE OF HIS FUTURE LIFE, BUT ALSO THE DESTINY OF HIS NATIVE COUNTRY, AND, IT MAY BE, THAT OF THE WHOLE WORLD; AS THE LITTLE READER WILL FIND OUT FOR HIMSELF, IF HE BUT HAVE THE PATIENCE TO BEAR UNCLE JUVINELL COMPANY TO THE END OF THIS INTERESTING HISTORY. IV. ^^ Rides of Behavior ^^ 61 AFFORDING TO THE READER ANOTHER AND HIS LAST GLIMPSE OF WASHINGTON AS A SCHOOL-BOY. HERE HE WILL LEARN OF WASHINGTON'S MANY INGENIOUS MODES OF GAINING AND RETAIN- ING KNOWLEDGE, AND HIS HABITS OF PUTTING IT TO PRACTICAL USES ; AND WILL FIND HIS RULES OF BEHAVIOR IN COMPANY AND IN CONVERSATION, WRITTEN AT THE AGE OF THIRTEEN, WHICH UNCLE JUVINELL WOULD EARNESTLY RECOMIMEND HIM, AND, IN FACT, ALL HIS READERS, BE THEY BOYS OR GIRLS, MEN OR WOMEN, TO STORE AWAY IN THEIR MEMORIES, IF THEY BE DESIROUS OP GROWING IN VIRTUE, AND OF DEPORTING THEMSELVES IN SUCH A MANNER AS TO GAIN THE GOOD -WILL AND ESTEEM, AND CON- TRIBUTE TO THE HAPPINESS, OF ALL AROUND THEM. V. In the Wilderness 70 IN WHICH WILL BE SEEN HOW GEORGE BECAME ACQUAINTED WITH OLD LORD FAIRFAX, AND WAS EMPLOYED BY THIS GREAT NOBLEMAN TO ACT AS SURVEYOR OP ALL HIS WILD LANDS; WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE HE LED IN THE WILDERNESS, AND A SOMEWHAT HIGHLY COLORED PICTURE OF A WAR-DANCE PER- FORMED BY A PARTY OF INDIANS FOR THE ENTERTAINMENT OF HIM AND HIS FRIENDS. CONTENTS. XI YI. The Yoting Surveyor 78 REVEALING STILL FURTHER GLIMPSES OF WASHINGTON AS A YOUNG SURVEYOR, — IN WHICH THE READER WILL SEE HOW THAT GREAT MAN BROUGHT HIS LABORS IN THE WILDERNESS TO AN END; WITH SOME REMARKS RESPECTING THE LOWLAND BEAUTY, AND HOW LITTLE IS KNOWN OF HER. vn. First Military Appointment 89 IN WHICH THE YOUNG READER WILL LEARN HOW WASHINGTON, AT THE EARLY AGE OF NINETEEN, BECAME ONE OF THE ADJUTANT- GENERALS OF THE PROVINCE OF VIRGINIA ; AND HOW HE WENT ON A VOYAGE TO THE WEST INDIES IN COMPANY WITH HIS BROTHER LAWRENCE, WHO, BEING IN QUEST OF HEALTH, AND FAILING TO FIND IT THERE, RETURNED HOME TO DIE. vm. Important Explanations 96 WHEREIN UNCLE JUVINELL AND THE LITTLE FOLKS TALK TOGE- THER, IN A PLEASING AND FAMILIAR STYLE, OF CERTAIN MATTERS CONTAINED IN THE FOREGOING PAGES; WHICH, BEING SOMEWHAT DIFFICULT OF COMPREHENSION, NEED TO BE MORE FULLY AND CLEARLY EXPLAINED, THAT THEY MAY THE BETTER UNDERSTAND WHAT IS TO COME HEREAFTER IN THIS INTERESTING HISTORY. IX. Indian Troubles ^ • • .105 WHEREIN UNCLE JUVINELL GOES ON WITH HIS STORY, AND TELLS THE LITTLE FOLKS ALL THAT IS NEEDFUL FOR THEM TO KNOW CONCERNING THE CAUSES THAT BROUGHT ABOUT THE OLD FRENCH WAR ; TO WHICH THE YOUNG READER WILL DO WELL TO PAY VERY PARTICULAR ATTENTION. XU CONTENTS. X. ^^Bio- Talk'' ivkh ''White Thunder'' ... 115 o EXPLAINING HOW MAJOR WASHINGTON CAME TO BE SENT BY GOVERNOR DINVflDDIE ON A MISSION TO THE FRENCH, NEAR LAKE ERIE. — HOW HE SET OUT. — WHAT BEFELL HIM BY THE WAY. — HOW HE STOPPED AT LOGSTOWN TO HAVE A BIG TALK WITH THE HALF-KING, WHITE THUNDER, AND OTHER INDIAN WORTHIES. — HOW HE AT LAST REACHED THE FRENCH FORT, AND WHAT HE DID AFTER HE GOT THERE. • XI. Christmas in the Wilderness . . . *. . . 126 ENABLING THE YOUNG READER TO FOLLOW MAJOR WASHINGTON TO HIS JOURNEY'S END, AND SEE HOW HE AND HIS PARTY SPENT THEIR CHRISTMAS IN THE WILDERNESS. — HOW HE TWICE CAME NEAR LOSING HIS LIFE, FIRST BY THE TREACHERY OP AN INDIAN GUIDE, AND THEN BY DROWNING; WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF HIS INTERVIEW WITH THE INDIAN PRINCESS, ALIQUIPPA. xn. Washington's First Battle 134 IN WHICH THE YOUNG READER, AFTER GETTING A HINT OF THE TREMENDOUS CONSEQUENCES THAT ENSUED FROM THE FRENCH GENERAL'S LETTER, WILL FIND SO MUCH TO ENTERTAIN HIM, THAT HE WILL READILY EXCUSE UNCLE JUVINELL FROM GIVING THE REMAINING HEADS OF THIS CHAPTER ; FURTHER THAN TO SAY, THAT IT WINDS UP WITH QUITE A LIVELY AND SPIRITED ACCOUNT OP WASHINGTON'S FIRST BATTLE. • XIII. Fort Necessity 146 WHAT BEFELL COLONEL WASHINGTON IN AND AROUND FORT NE- CESSITY, AND HOW HE SUSTAINED HIS FIRST SIEGE ; WHICH WILL BE FOUND EVEN MORE ENTERTAINING THAN THE ACCOUNT OF HIS FIRST BATTLE, NARRATED IN THE LAST CHAPTER. CONTENTS. xm XIV. General Braddock . . . 158 IN WHICH THE YOUNG READER AND COLONEL WASHINGTON FORM THE ACQUAINTANCE OF GENERAL BRADDOCK, AND COME TO THE SAME CONCLUSIONS REGARDING HIS CHARACTER; AND IN WHICH THE READER IS HONORED WITH A SLIGHT INTRODUCTION TO THE GREAT DR. FRANKLIN, WHO GIVES SOME GOOD ADVICE, WHICH BRADDOCK, TO HIS FINAL COST, FAILS TO FOLLOW; AND IS ENTERr- TAINED WITH A FEW GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN CAMP. XV. Rough Work 172 THE READER WILL SEE HOW GENERAL BRADDOCK AT LAST SET OUT ON HIS MARCH TO FORT DUQUESNE. — HOW HE GOT ENTANGLED IN THE WILDERNESS, AND WAS FORCED TO CALL UPON THE YOUNG PROVINCIAL COLONEL FOR ADVICE, WHICH, THOUGH WISELY GIVEN, WAS NOT WISELY FOLLOWED.— HOW CAPTAIN JACK MADE AN OFFER, FOR WHICH HE GOT BUT SORRY THANKS ; AND WILL FIND A SPRINK- LING OF WAYSIDE ITEMS HERE AND THERE ; WHICH SAVES THIS CHAPTER FROM BEING CONSIDERED A DULL ONE. XVI. Braddock'' s Defeat 186 IN WHICH IS RECORDED THE BLOODIEST PAGE IN THE ANNALS OF AMERICA ; OR, TO EXPRESS IT OTHERWISE, AN ACCOUNT OF THE FAMOUS BATTLE OF THE MONONGAHELA, COMMONLY CALLED BRAD- DOCK'S DEFEAT; WHICH, IT WILL BE SEEN AT A GLANCE, MIGHT HAVE TURNED OUT A VICTORY AS WELL, HAD WASHINGTON'S AD- VICE BEEN FOLLOWED. xvn. Explanations 200 WHEREIN UNCLE JUVINELL AND THE LITTLE FOLKS DISCOURSE TOGETHER, IN A LIVELY AND ENTERTAINING STYLE, OF DIVERS MAT- TERS TO BE FOUND, AND NOT TO BE FOUND, IN BOOK THURSDAY; XIV CONTENTS. WHICH MAY SEEIM OF LITTLE CONSEQUENCE TO THOSE ELDERLY PEOPLE WHO ARE TOO WISE TO BE AMUSED, AND WHO WOULD, ANY TIME, RATHER SEE A FACT BROUGHT OUT STARK NAKED THAN DRESSED HANDSOMELY. SUCH 0^^1.8 ARE REQUESTED TO PASS OVER THIS CHAPTER, AND PERCH UPON BOOK FRIDAY, PORTIONS OF WHICH WILL BE FOUND QUITE AS DRY AS THEY COULD POSSIBLY DESIRE. XVIII. TVork ill Earnest 210 SHOWING HOW BRADDOCK'S ARMY CONTINUED ITS FLIGHT TO PHILADELPHIA. — HOW WASHINGTON RETURNED TO MOUNT VERNON, AND WAS SHORTLY AFTERWARDS MADE COMMANDER OF ALL THE FORCES OF VIRGINIA ; AND HOW HE WENT TO BOSTON, AND WHY ; WITH OTHER ITEMS OF INTEREST. XIX. DarJc Days 222 STILL FARTHER ACCOUNT OF WASHINGTON'S TROUBLES WITH THE INDIANS AND WITH HIS OWN IMEN, AND NOTICE OF HIS MISUNDER- STANDING WITH GOVERNOR DINWIDDIE ; ALL OF WHICH, COMBINED, RENDER THIS THE SADDEST AND THE GLOOMIEST PERIOD OF HIS LIFE. XX. A New Enter pise 233 CONTAINING GLIMPSES OUTSIDE OF THE DIRECT LINE OF OUR STORY, WITH A MORE MINUTE AND CIRCUMSTANTIAL ACCOUNT OF HOW WASHINGTON WOOED AND WON A FAIR LADY THAN IS TO BE MET WITH ELSEWHERE ; WITH SOME PARTICULARS TOUCHING AN INTENDED EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT DUQUESNE. XXI. More Blundering 244 SHOWING HOW BRADDOCK'S FOLLY WAS REPEATED BY MAJOR GRANT, AS FOREBODED BY WASHINGTON; AND ALSO WHAT CAME OF THE EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT DUQUESNE. CONTENTS. XV XXII. Washington at Home , . 255 GIVING AN ACCOUNT OF WASHINGTON'S MARRIAGE WITH SIRS. CUSTIS. — HIS RECEPTION BY THE VIRGINIA HOUSE OF BURGESSES.— HIS HABITS AS A MAN OF BUSINESS. — HIS RURAL PURSUITS AND AMUSEMENTS. — HIS LOVE OP SOCIAL PLEASURES. — HIS ADVENTURE AVITH A POACHER ; AND MANY OTHER ITEMS ; ALL OF WHICH, COM- BINED, MAKE THIS CHAPTER ONE OF THE MOST PLEASING AND ENTERTAINING OF THE WHOLE BOOK. XXUI. A Family Quarrel . 269 WHEREIN THE YOUNG READER WILL FIND WHAT WILL BE EX- PLAINED MORE TO HIS SATISFACTION IN CHAPTER XXIV. XXIY. Tlie Cause of the Quarrel 276 AFFORDING A MORE CLEAR AND SATISFACTORY ACCOUNT OF THE CAUSES THAT BROUGHT ABOUT OUR REVOLUTIONARY WAR THAN WAS GIVEN IN CHAPTER XXIII. ; BUT CHAPTER XXV. MUST NEEDS BE READ, BEFORE A FULL AND COMPLETE UNDERSTANDING OF THESE MATTERS CAN BE ARRIVED AT. XXV. Resistance to Tyranny 288 ILLUSTRATING WHAT PART WASHINGTON TOOK IN THESE MEA- SURES OF RESISTANCE TO BRITISH TYRANNY.— HOW HE BECAME A REPRESENTATIVE OF VIRGINIA IN THE GREAT COLONIAL ASSEMBLY, OTHERWISE CALLED THE OLD CONTINENTAL CONGRESS; AND HOW, UPON THE BREAKING-OUT OF HOSTILITIES BETWEEN THE COLONIES AND THE MOTHER-COUNTRY, HE WAS MADE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF OF ALL THE FORCES OF THE UNITED COLONIES ; WITH OTHER ITEMS TOUCHING THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS, AND PATRICK HENRY, THE GREAT VIRGINIA ORATOR. XVI CONTENTS. XXYI. Conclusion 301 WHEREIN THE YOUNG READER WILL BE ENTERTAINED WITH THE PLEASING AND EDIFYING CONVERSATION WHICH TOOK PLACE BETWEEN UNCLE JUVINELL AND THE LITTLE FOLKS, TOUCHING DIVERS MATTERS IN BOOK FRIDAY ; WHICH DEMAND FURTHER CON- SIDERATION FOR A MORE COMPLETE UNDERSTANDING OF OUR HIS- TORY, PAST AND TO COME. THE FARMER BOY. INTRODUCTION. SOMEWHERE in green Kentucky, not a great many years ago, the ruddy light of a Christmas sunset, streaming in at the windows of an old-fash- ioned brick house, that stood on a gentle hillside, half hidden by evergreens, shone fidl and broad on a group of merry little youngsters there met together to spend the holiday with their Uncle Juvinell, a charming old bachelor of threescore and ten. What with "blind man's buff," "leap-frog," " hide-and-seek," " poor pussy wants a corner," Mo- ther Goose, dominos, sky-rocket§ and squibs, and what with the roasting of big red apples and the munching of gingerbread elephants, the reading of beautiful story-books, — received that morning as Christmas presents from their Uncle Juvinell and other loving relatives, — these little folks had found this day the most delightful of their lives. [17] 18 THE FARMER BOY. Tired at last of play, and stuffed with Christmas knick-knacks till their jackets and breeches could hold no more, they had now betaken themselves to the library to await the return of their Uncle Juvinell, who had gone out to take his usual evening walk ; and were now quietly seated round a blazing winter fire, that winked and blinked at them with its great bright eye, and went roaring right merrily up the wide chimney. Just as the last beam of the setting sun went out at the window. Uncle Juvinell, as if to fill its place, came in at the door, all brisk and ruddy from his tramp over the snow in the sharp bracing air, and was hailed with a joyous shout by the little folks, who, hastening to wheel his great arm-chair for him round to the fire, pushed and pulled him into it, and called upon him to tell one of his most charming stories, even before the tingling frost was out of his nose. ■ As this worthy old gentleman has done much for the entertainment and instruction of the rising gene- rations of the land, it is but due him that some mention, touching his many amiable traits of charac- ter and his accomplishments of mind and person, should be made in this place for the more complete satisfaction of those who may hereafter feel themselves indebted to him for some of the most pleasant moments of their lives. In person. Uncle Juvinell is stout and well-rounded. His legs are fat, and rather short ; his body is fat, INTKODUCTION. 19 and rather long ; his belly is snug and plump ; his hands are plump and white; his hair is white and soft ; his eyes are soft and blue ; his coat is blue and sleek ; and over his sleek and dimpled face, from his dimpled cliin to the very crown of his head, — which, being bald, shines like sweet oil in a warm fire-light, — there beams one unbroken smile of fun, good-humor, and love, that fills one's heart with sunshine to behold. Indeed, to look at him, and be with him a while, you could hardly help half believing that he must be a twin-brother of Santa Claus, so closely does he resemble that far-famed personage, not only in appearance, but in character also ; and more than once, having been met in his little sleigh by some belated school-boy, whistling homeward through the twilight of a Christmas or New Year's Eve, he has been mistaken for the jolly old saint himself. In short, his whole appearance is in the highest degree respectable ; and there is even about him an air of old-fashioned elegance, which of course is owing chiefly to the natural sweetness and polite- ness of his manners, and yet perhaps a little height- ened withal by the gold-bowed spectacles that he wears on his nose, the heavy gold bar that pins his snowy linen, the gold buttons that shine on his coat, his massive gold watch-chain (at the end of which hangs a great red seal as big as a baby's fist) , and by his gold-headed ebony cane, that he always carries on his shoulder like a musket when he walks, as much 20 THE FAKMER BOY. as to say, " Threescore and ten, and no need of a staff yet, my Christian friend." No man is more beloved and esteemed by all who know him, old and young, than he ; for like Father Grimes, whose nephew he is by the mother's side, — *' He modest merit seeks to find, And give it its desert ; He has no malice in his mind, - No ruffles on his shirt. His neighbors he does not abuse ; Is sociable and gay : He wears large buckles in his shoes, And changes them each day." If there is one thina: about Uncle Juvinell that we might venture to pronounce more charming than another, it is the smile of mingled fun, good-humor, and love, with which his countenance never ceases to shine, save when he hears the voice of pain and his breast with pity burns. Touching this same trait of his, a lady once said in our hearing, that she verily believed a cherub, fresh from the rosy chambers of the morning, came at the opening of each day to Uncle Juvinell's chamber, just on purpose to dash a handful of sunbeams on his head ; and, as there were always more than enough to keep his face bathed with smiles for the next twenty-four hours, they were not wasted, but, falling and lodging on his gold spectacles, his gold breast-pin, his gold but- tons, his gold watch-chain, and the gold head of INTRODUCTION. 21 his ebony cane, washed them with lustre ever new, as if his face, bright and broad as it was, were not enough to reflect the love and sunshine ever dwelling in his heart. We will not undertake to vouch for the truth of this, however. As the young lady was a marriageable young lady, and had been for a num- ber of years, it would not be gallant or generous for us to mention it ; but of this we are certain, that, when this good old gentleman enters a room, there is a warmth and brightness in his very presence, that causes you to look round, half expecting to see the tables and chairs throwino^ their shadows alonsf the floor, as if, by the power of magic, a window had suddenly been opened in the wall to let in the morn- ing sunshine. *^ If the affections of Uncle Juvinell's heart are child- like in their freshness, the powers of his intellect are gigantic in their dimensions. He is a man of pro- digious learning : for proof of which, you have but to enter his library, and take note of the books upon books that crowd the shelves from the floor to the ceiling ; the maps that line the walls ; the two gi-eat globes, one of the earth and the other of the heavens, that stand on either side of his reading-desk ; and the reading-desk itself, whereon there always hes some book of monstrous size, wide open, which no one has ever had the courage to read from beginning to end, or could comprehend if he did. In the languages he is very expert ; speaking 22 THE FARMER BOY. French with such clearness and distinctness, that any native-born Frenchman, with a fair knowledge of the English, can with but little difficulty understand more than half he says ; and in German he is scarcely less fluent and ready ; while his Latin is the envy of all who know only their "mother- tongue. In mathematics, his skill is such, that you might give him a sum, the working-out of which would cover three or four large slates ; and he would never fail to arrive at the answer, let him but take his time. In astronomy, he is perfectly at home among the fixed stars ; can distinguish them at a single glance, and that, too, w^ithout the help of his spectacles, from the wandering planets ; and is as familiar with the motion and changes of the moon, as if he had been in the habit for the last forty years of spending the hot summer months at some of the fashionable waterine;- places of that amiable and interesting orb. But it is in the history of the nations and great men of the earth that Uncle Juvinell most excels, as shall be proved to your entire satisfaction before reaching the end of this volume. And yet, notwithstanding the vastness of his learn- ing and the gigantic powers of his mind, he can, when it so pleases him, disburden himself of these great matters, and descend from liis lofty height to the comprehension of the little folks, with as much ease as a huge balloon, soaring amidst the clouds, can let off* its gas, and sink down to the level of the kites, INTRODUCTION. 23 air-balls, and sky-rockets wherewith they are wont to amuse themselves. Being an old bachelor, as before noticed, he, of course, has no children of his own ; but, Hke the philosopher that he is, he always consoles himself for this misfortune with the reflection, that, had he been so favored, much of his love and aflection must needs have been wasted on his own six, eight, or ten, as the case might have been, instead of being divided without measure among the hundreds and thousands of Httle ones that gladden the wedded Hfe, and fill with their music the homes of others more blessed. Living, as all his brothers do, in easy circum- stances, he has abundant time and leisure to devote himself to the particular interest and enjoyment of these little ones ; and is always casting in his mind what he may be doing to amuse them, or make them wiser, better, and happier. Such is the ease, heartiness, and familiarity with which he demeans himself when among them, and enters into all their httle pastimes and concerns, that they stand no more in awe of him than if he were one of their own number ; and make him the butt of a thousand impish pranks, at which he laughs as heartily as the merriest rogue among them. And yet it is for that very reason, perhaps, that they love him so devotedly, and would give up their dog- knives or wax dolls any day, sooner than show themselves unmindful of his slightest wishes, or do 24 THE FARMER BOY. aught that could bring upon them even his softest rebuke. They make nothing of taking off his gold spectacles, and putting them on their own little pugs to look wise ; or running their chubby fists into the tight, warm pockets of his breeches, in quest of liis gold pencil or pearl-handled knife ; or dashing like mad over the yard, with his gold-headed cane for a steed ; or steaHng up beliind him, as he stands with his back to the fire, and slyly pulling out his big red bandanna handkerchief, wherewith to yoke the dog and cat together as they lie sociably side by side on •the hearth-rug. In short, he will suffer them to tease him and tousle him and tumble him to their hearts' content, and set no limits to their Hberties, so long as they are careful not to touch his snowy linen with their smutched fingers ; for, if Uncle Juvinell has one fault in the world, it is his unreasonable partiality for snowy hnen. But, were we to go on with our praises and commendations of this best of men, we should fill a large volume ftdl to overflowing, and still leave the better half unsaid : so we must exercise a little self-denial, and forego such pleasing thoughts for the present, as it now behooves us to bring our minds to bear upon matters we have more nearly in view. Seeing how earnestly the httle folks w^ere bent upon drawing out of him one of his longest stories, Uncle Juvinell now bade them sit down and be quiet till he should have time to conjure up something more charming than any Arabian tale they had ever heard ; INTKODUCTION. 25 and tlirowing himself back in his great arm-chair, and fixing his eyes on the glowing coals, that seemed to present to his fancy an ever-shifting panorama, was soon lost in profound meditation. And the longer he thought, the harder he looked at the fire, which knowingly answered his look with a winking and bhnking of its great bright eye, that seemed to say, " Well, Uncle Juvinell, what shall we do for the entertainment or instruction of these little people to-night? Shall we tell them of that crew of antic goblins we wot of, who are wont to meet by moon- light, to play at football with the hanged man's head, among the tombstones of an old graveyard ? Or may be that dreadful ogre, with the one fiery eye in the middle of his forehead, who was in the habit of roast- ing fat men on a spit for his Christmas dinners, would be more to their taste. Or, if you prefer it, let it be that beautiful fairy, who, mounted on a milk-white pony, and dressed in green and gold, made her home in an echoing wood, for no other purpose than to lead little children therefrom, who might by some ill chance be separated from their friends, and lose their way in its tangled wilds. Or perhaps you are thinking it would be more instructive to them were we to conjure up some story of early times in green Kentucky, when our great-grandfathers were wont to take their rifles to bed with them, and sleep with them in their arms, ready to spring up at the sHghtest rusthng of the dry leaves in the woods, and defend 2 2(3 THE FARMER BOY. themselves against the dreaded Indian, as with pan- ther-like tread he sknlked around their lonely dwell- ings." To each and all of these, Uncle Juvinell shook his head ; none of them being just exactly the tiling he wanted. At length, finding that the fire hindered rather than helped him to make a choice, lie rose from his seat, turned his back upon it, and lool^ed from one bright face to another of the circle before him, till his eye rested on Daniel, who was among the oldest of the children, and was, by the way, the young historian of the family, and, in his own opinion, a youth of rather uncommon parts. He had that morning received from his uncle, as a Christmas pre- sent, that most delightful of story-books, "Robinson Crusoe ; " but having seen the unlucky sailor high, but not dry, on his desert island, and having run his eye over all the pictures, he had laid it aside, and was now standing at the reading-desk, looking as wise as a young owl in a fog over a very large book indeed, in wliich he pretended to be too deeply interested to finish a slab of gingerbread that lay half munched at his side. Seeing his little nephew thus engaged. Uncle Juvinell smiled a quiet smile all to himself, and, after watching him a few moments, said, "Dannie, my boy, what book is that you are reading with so much Interest that you have forgotten your ginger- bread?" INTRODUCTION. 27 " Irylng's Life of Washington, sir," replied Daniel with an air. " A good book, a very good indeed ; but too hard for you, I fear," said Uncle Juvinell, shaking his head. "Tell me, though, how far you have read." " To Braddock's defeat, sir," replied Daniel." "You have been getting over the ground rather fast, I am thinking ; but tell me how you like it," said Uncle Juvinell, by way of drawing his little nephew out. "Here and there, I come to a chapter that I like very much," replied Daniel: "but there are parts that I don't understand very well ; and I was just thinking that I would point them out to you some time, and get you to explain them to me ; as you will, I am certain ; for you know every thing, and are so oblio'ino^ to us little folks ! " At this. Uncle Juvinell's face lighted up as with a brilliant thought ; but, without seeming to notice his little nephew's request just then, he reseated himself, and again began looking hard at the fire. The fire opened its great bright eye more widely than before, and looked as if it were putting the question, "Well, sir, and what is it now ? Out with it, and I will throw what light I can on the matter." After a few moments, there appeared to be a perfect understanding between them ; for the fire with a sly wink seemed to say, "A happy thought. Uncle Juvinell, — a very happy thought indeed : I was just on the point of 28 THE FARMER BOY. proposing the very same thing myself. Come, let us go about it at once, and make these holidays the brightest and happiest these little folks have ever known, or ever could or would or should know, in all their lives." And the fire fell to winking and blinking at such an extravagant rate, that the shadows of those who were seated round it began bobbing up and down the wall, looking like mis- shapen goblins amusing themselves by jumping imagi- nary ropes, the gigantic one of Uncle Ju^dnell leaping so high as to butt the ceiling. After several minutes of deep thought, the old gentleman rose, and stood on his short fat legs with the air of a man who had made up his mind, and with a smile on his fiice, as if sure he was just on the point of giving them all a pleasant surprise. " Lau- ra, my dear," said he, "take down that picture from the wall you see hanging- to the right of the book- case ; and you, Ella, my darling, take that bunch of feathers, and brush off the dust from it. Now hand it to me. This, my cherubs," he went on, "is the portrait of the good and great George Washington, who is called the Father of our country. It is to him, more than to any other man, that w^e owe the bless- ings of freedom, peace, and prosperity, we now enjoy in larger measure than any other people of the wide earth ; and it was for these same blessings that he fought and struggled through all the weary years of our Revolutionary War, amidst difficulties, dangers, mTRODUCTION. 29 and discouragements such as never before tried the strength of man. And when, in the happy end, he, by his courage, skill, and fortitude, and abiding trust in the protection of an all-wise Providence, had come out victorious over all, and driven our cruel enemies from the land, so that our homes were once more gladdened with the smiles of peace and plenty, — then it was that a grateful people with one voice hailed him chosen of the Lord for the salvation of our be- loved country. Blessed be the name of George Wash- ington, — blessed for evermore ! " And a big tear of love and thankfulness started from each of Uncle Ju- vinell's mild blue eyes, trickled slowly over his ruddy cheek, and, dropping thence, went hopping and spar- kling down his large blue waistcoat. At this the little folks looked very grave, and thought to themselves, "What a good man Wash- ington must have been, and how much he must have done and suffered for the welfare of his fellow-beino's, thus to have brouQ-ht the tears to our dear old uncle's eyes ! " After looking at the picture for some mo- ments in silence, they began talking about it, each in his or her own fashion ; while Uncle Juvinell listened with much interest, curious to see what different impressions it would produce on their minds. " That scroll he holds in his left hand must be his farewell address to his army," said Daniel, the young historian, looking very wise. "What a fine long sword he carries at liis side ! " 30 THE FARMER BOY. ' said Biyce, a war-like youngster who liacl just climbed to the summit of his ninth year, and had, as you must know, a wooden sword of his own, with wlilch he went about dealing death and destruction to whole regiments of cornstalks and squadrons of horse-weeds, calling them British and Tories. " How tall and grand and handsome he looks ! " said Laura, a prim and demure little miss of thirteen : "In his presence, I am sure I could never speak above a whisper." " That, yonder, among the trees and evergreens on the hill, must be the house where he lived," said Ella, a modest, sweet-mannered little lady of twelve. " What a beautiful place It Is ! and what a happy home It must have been wlien he lived In It ! " "And see how the hill r lopes down to the river, so grassy and smooth ! and such a nice place for little boys to roll over and over down to the bottom ! " said Ned, a rough-and-tumble youngster of ten, who spent one-half of the sunshine with lils back to the ground and his heels in the air. "And see the beautiful river so broad and so smooth, and the great ships afar off going down to the sea ! " said Johnnie, a little poet of eight, who passed much of his time dreaming with his eyes open. "And such a pretty play-house as I see there among the bushes on the hillside ! " said Fannie, a stout little matron of five, the mother of a large and still increasing family of dolls. INTKODUCTIO:?^. 31 "That is not a play-house, Fannie, but the tomb where Wasliington lies buried," said Dannie with an air of superior wisdom. " What a splendid wliite horse that black man is holding for him ! How he bows his neck, and champs liis bit, and paws the ground ! " said Willie, a harum- scarum, neck-or-nothing young blade of fourteen, who would have given liis best leg to have been the owner of a galloping, high-headed, short-tailed pony. "What is he doing so far away from home without his hat, I wonder?" said Master Charlie, a knowing young gentleman of eight, who was much in the habit of doubting everybody's eyes and ears but his own. "How kind and good he looks out of his eyes, just like father!" said Mary, an affectionate and timid little creature of seven. Just then, Addison, a plump little fellow of four, in all the glory of his first new jacket and his first new breeches, w^ho was standing on the top round of Uncle Juvinell's chair, suddenly cried out in a very strong voice for his age, "Oh ! he looks just like Uncle Juvinell : now don't he. Cousin Mary?" For a man of his appearance to be thus compared with so stately and dignified a man as Washington was a thing so ludicrous, that Uncle Juvinell was surprised into the heartiest fit of laughter that he had enjoyed that day. When it was over, he bade Laura hang up the picture again in its accustomed place, 32 THE FAKMER BOY. and began where he had left off some time before : " Now, my dear children, it came into my mind, while I was talking with yom* Cousin Dannie a little bit ago, that I could not tell you any thing more entertaining and instructive than the story of Wash- ington's life. It will, I am quite sure, interest you much : for although he was such a great man, — the greatest, no doubt, that ever lived, — and so awful to look upon, yet, for all that, liis heart was full to overflowing with the most tender and kindly affec- tions, and, if you can believe it, quite as fond of little children as your Uncle Juvinell ; often joining in their innocent sports for a whole hour at a time. Let me see. This is Wednesday ; and we have seven, eight, long holidays bQfore us to be as happy as skylarks in. Now, I am thinking, that, if we would have next New Year's Day find us better and wiser, we could not liit upon a more proper plan for beginning so desirable an end than by spending a part of each day in making om'selves acquainted with the life and character of this good and great man, and, at the close of each evening's lesson, talking over what we have learned, to our more complete understanding of the same. And now, my merry ones, speak out, and tell me what you think of it." " It will be just exactly the very tiling," said wise Daniel. " Glorious ! " said rollickins: Willie. " Charming ! " said prim and demure Miss Laura. INTRODUCTION. 33 " 'Twill be delightful, I am sure," said modest EUa. " Nothing could please me better, if we have a good big battle now and then," said warlike Bryce. " I wonder if it will be as interesting as ' Kobinson Crusoe ' ? " put in doubting Charlie. " Or ^Aladdin and his Wonderful Lamp ' ? " chimed in dreaming Johnnie. "And we'll all listen, and be so good ! " said timid, loving littje Mary. " Wait a moment for me, uncle, till I run down to the cabin, just to see how Black Daddy's getting along making my sled," said hair-brained Ned. "And wait a little bit for me too, uncle, till I go and put my dolly babe . to bed ; for she might take the measles if I keep her up too long," said motherly Fannie. " And let me sit on your knee, uncle ; Cousin Mary wants my chair," said Addison, the youngest one of them all, at the same time climbing up, and getting astride of Uncle Juvinell's left fat leg. " Then settle yourselves at once, you noisy chatter- boxes," said Uncle Juvinell with a shining face ; " and mind you be as quiet and mute as mice at a cat's wedding while I am telling my story, or I'll " — His threat was drowned in the joyous shouts of the children as they scrambled into their chairs. When tliey had all put on a listening look, he poured out a little yellow, squat, Dutch mug brimful of rich 34. THE FARJVIER BOY. brown elder from a big blue pitcher that Black Daddy had just placed on a table close at hand, and, having wet Im whistle therewith, began his story. And now and then, as the story went on, the fire, keeping its bright, watchful eye upon the old gentle- man, would wink at him in a sly manner, that seemed to say, "Well done. Uncle Juvinell, — very well done Indeed. You see, sir, I was quite right in what I told you. We have hit upon the very thing. The httle folks are enchanted : they are drawing in wis- dom with every breath. A merry Christmas to us all ! " Pop, pop ! hurrah ! pop ! I. GEORGE AT SCHOOL. A HUNDRED years ago or more, there stood on the green slopes of the Potomac, in the county of Westmoreland, Va., an old red farm- house, with a huge stone chimney at each end, and high gray roof, the eaves of which projected in such a manner as to cover a porch in front and two or three small shed-rooms in the rear. Now, although this house was built of wooden beams and painted boards, and was far from being what could be called, even for those times, a fine one, — looking as it did more like a barn than a dwelling for man, — yet, for all that, it had the honor of being the birthplace of the good and great George Washington, who is said, by many very wise persons who ought to know, to have been the greatest man that ever came into this pleasant and glorious world of ours. His father, Augustine Wasliingi;on, was married early in hfe to Jane Butler, who died after having borne him two sons, Lawrence and Augustine. In a year or two after this loss, feeling the want of some one to gladden liis lonely heart and home, he [35] 36 THE FAEMER BOY. married ^lary Ball, the belle of Horseneck, and said to have been the most beautiful young lady in all that part of the country. Bythis union he was blessed with six children, of whom our George, the eldest, was born on the twenty-second day of February, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and thirty-two. It has often appeared strange to me that notliing should Ibe known of this great man's life up to the completion of liis fifth year : and I am sorry for your sakes, my little ones, that such is the case ; for it would be such a nice beginning to our story, could we say with certainty that he distinguished himself by walldng alone at the age of five months ; that he could pronounce " Mother " and " Good " with perfect distinctness when but one year old ; that liis mother taught him at the age of two to kneel by her side, and Hsp, before going to his evening rest, that beautiful prayer, beginning with, " Noav I lay me down to sleep ;" that he rode like mad, at the age of three, round and round the yard, on his father's buckhorn-headed cane ; and that he rode on a real horse at the age of four, and went galloping like a young Tartar round and round the meadow in front of the house, to the delight of his young mother, who watched him from the window. Of all this, and a gi^eat deal more of the same sort, vou would, I doubt not, lilie much to hear, and I would like much to tell you ; but we must keep witliin the GEORGE AT SCHOOL. 37 bounds of true history, and content ourselves with the knowledge of that which really did happen. With this safe rule for our guidance, we will there- fore proceed at once to take up the thread of our story at that period of George's boyhood, concerning which some certain record has come down to our time. At the age of five, when he was old enough to walk all alone for a mile or two through the woods and fields, liis parents started him to school one bright spring morning, with his little basket on his arm, containing his dinner and a bran-new spelling- book, to take liis first tiny steps in the flowery path of knowledge. His first teacher was a Mr. Hobby, an old man, who lived on a distant part of his father's planta- tion, and is said to have been besides the sexton or grave-digger of the neighborhood; and was, I have my private reasons for thinking, a broken- down old soldier, with a big cocked hat that shaded a kindly and weather-beaten face, and a wooden leg, — an ornament for which he was indebted to a cannon-ball, and took more pride in than if it had been a sound one of flesh and bone. . As it is rarely ever the case that men with wooden legs are called upon to fight the battles of their country, this worthy old man, who well knew how to read and write, and cipher too, must needs earn his livelihood by teaching school, and sowing his knowledge broadcast among the little children of the neighborhood. 9 8 THE FARMER BOY. Accordingly, It was to old Mr. Hobby, as every- body called him, that George was indebted for his first insight into the mysteries of book-learning ; and althouoh he was in due time to become the greatest man of this or any other age or country, yet he began liis education by first learning his ABC, just as did other boys of that day, just as they are now doing, and just as they will continue to do for all time to come. After he had taken his ABC into his memory, and set them there in a straight row each in its proper place, he was not long, depend upon it, in reaching the middle of his spelling-book ; and as soon as he could, without anybody's help, climb over tall and difficult words of five or six syllables, such as " immortality " or " re- sponsibility," his master put liim in the English Read- er, where he soon overtook and went clean ahead of boys a great deal older than himself. From reading, he In a short time rose to writing ; and It was said by those who knew him best, that he learned to write a neat round hand without ever once blotting his copy-book ; and furthermore, that such a thing as a dirty, thumb-worn, dog-eared book was never seen In his hand. His next step in the path of knowledge was arithmetic ; and, in less time than you can well believe, he had got the multiplication-table so tho- roughly by heart, that he could run over It as fast backwards, from tw^elve times twelve to twice one, as common boys straightforward, even with the GEORGE AT SCHOOL. 39 open book before their eyes. So well did be study, that, in less than four years' time after his first start- ing to school, the single rule of three was no more to him than long division to most boys ; and he could repeat the tables of weights and measures as ghbly as you, Master Johnnie, can rattle off the charming story of "Old Mother Hubbard and her Wonderfid Dog." Now, the rapid progress George made in his studies was owing not so much to liis uncommon aptitude at learning as to the diligence and industry with which he applied himself to them. For example : when other boys would be staring out at the window, watcliing the birds and squirrels sporting among the tree-tops ; or sitting idly with their hands in their pockets, opening and shutting their jack-knives, or counting their marbles, or munching apples and corn-dodgers in a sneaking and unbecoming man- ner beliind their books ; or, more naughty still, shoot- ing paper bullets at old Hobby's wooden leg as he sat dozing beliind his high desk of a drowsy summer afternoon, — our George, with liis hands to his ears to keep out the schoolroom buzz, would be studying with all his might ; nor would he once raise his eyes from his book till every word of his lesson was ready to drop from his tongue's end of its own accord. So well did he apply himself, and so attentive was he to every thing taught liim, that, by the time he was ten years old, he had learned all that the poor old 40 THE FARMER BOY. grave-digger knew himself; and it was this worthy man's boast in after-years, that he had laid the foun- dation of Washinoton's future g-reatness. But what old Wooden Leg — for so they always called him when his back was turned — could not teach him at school, little George learned at home of his father and mother, who were well educated for those days ; and many a long winter evening did these good parents spend in telling their children interesting and instructive stories of olden times, far-off countries, and strange people, which George would write down in his copy-book in his neatest, roundest hand, and remember ever afterward. A more prudent and careful father, and a more discreet and affectionate mother, than Mr. Washing- ton and his wife Mary, perhaps never lived. So earnest and watchful were they to bring up their children in the fear of the Lord, and in the practice of every noble virtue, that their dutiful behavior and sweet manners were the talk and praise of the good people for miles and miles around. They taught them to be neat and orderly in their dress, as well as civil and polite in their manners ; to be respectful to their elders ; to be kind to one another, and to every thing God hath made, both great and small, whether man or bird or beast : but chiefly were they concerned to teach them the love of truth, and to tell it at all times when it should be their duty to speak out, let the consequences be what they might. To GEORGE AT SCHOOL. 41 show you that such wise and careful training was not lost on the tender mind of George, I will tell you the story of his little hatchet, as It may serve you good stead In the day when you may be tempted to wander astray from the path of truth and virtue. One Christmas Eve, when the sharp, frosty air made the blood brisk and lively In the veins, little George, who was then about six years old, hung up his stocking on the mantel of the huge chimney, say- ing to himself as he did so, " Good Santa Glaus, be kind to me while I am sleeping peacefully.". Next morning, bright and early, just as a great Christmas loo^ had bes^un to blaze and crackle on the hearth, he jumped spryly from his bed, and, without stopping to put on his clothes, ran to his stockings to see what good old Santa Glaus had brought him while he slept. I leave you to picture to your minds lils delight upon finding therein a little Indian tomahawk, with a brlo-ht keen edo;e and lona: red handle. It would have done all your hearts good to have seen how he skipped and danced around the room, and flourished his hatchet high over his head ; how he went showing it to every one about the house, wlilte and black ; praising good old Santa Claus to the very skies, and never once feeling the want of his breeches. But, between you and me, I am rather Inclined to suspect, that. If we had any means of arriving at the facts of the case. It would be found that Santa Claus had no more concern In this matter 42 THE FARINIER BOY. than your Uncle Juvlnell himself. To my mind, there is more reason in the supposition, that liis father, seeing the jolly old saint pass by at a late hour of the night in an empty sleigh, and that the cliikken were not likely to have their stockings filled for that once, got up early in the morning, and put the hatchet in there himself, rather than that liis Httle son should be disappointed. Be this as it may, it was all the same to George ; and he was as happy as happy could be. At the breakfast-table, he could hardly eat liis bread and milk for lookino- at his sliiningf axe, wliich he had laid beside him on the table ; and, before it was fairly broad daylight, he was out at the wood-yard, ankle-deep in snow, cutting and chopping away at the hard-sea- soned beech and maple logs, as if it lay with liim, for that day at least, to keep the whole family, white and black, from freezing. By and by, however, he found this more work than play, and began to cast his earnest young eyjes about liim for something green and soft whereon to try the edge and temper of his hatchet. Presently, as ill-luck would have it, a fine young English cherry-tree, just over the fence hard by, caught his attention, which, without further ado, he fell to hacking might and main ; and the way he made the little chips fly was a thing surprising to see. Next morning, his father, passing by that way, saw the miscliief that had been done, and was sorely dis- GEORGE AT SCHOOL. 43 pleased : for he had planted and reared this selfsame tree with the tenderest care ; and, of all the trees in his orchard, there was not one other he prized so liighly. Being quite sure that it was the work of some of the black children, he went straightway down to the negro quarter, bent on finding out, and bringing the unlucky culprit to a severe account. " Dick," said he to the first one he met, " did you cut that cherry-tree ? " " No, mauster ; don't know notliin' 'bout it," said Dick, showing the wliites of his eyes. "Did you, Sam?" said Mr. Washington, putting the same question to another little woolly-head. "No, mauster; don't know nothin' 'bout it," said Sam, likewise showing the whites of his eyes. The same question was put to Harry, who gave Dick and Sam's answer word for word, and, to add force to his denial, showed the whites of his eyes in like manner ; and so on, till more than a dozen had been questioned w4th the same ro^ult ; when it came to Jerry's turn to make denial, and show the wliites of his eyes. Now, you must know there was not a more auda- cious, mischief-making, neck-or-nothing black brat than tliis same Jerry to be found on the banks of the Rappahannock, which is a very long river indeed. As a fish hves in water, or a salamander in fire, so did Jerry Hve and breathe, and have liis being, in mis- cliief ; or, in other words, miscliief w^as the element 44 * THE FAHMEK BOY. in which Jerry found his chief dehght. If any mis- hap befell, anybody or any thing, at any hour of the day or night, on any part of the plantation, on foot or on horseback, at rest or in niDtion, it was sure to be brought and laid at Jerry's door. Being aware of all this, Mr. Wasliington was now quite sure, that, as none of the rest had cut the cherry-tree, Jerry himself must be the offender ; and so he put the ques- tion- to him ; to which .Jerry, showing the whites of liis eyes, made answer, "No, mauster ; I didn't cut the cherry-tree : indeed, indeed, and double deed, I didn't cut the cherry-tree." " Ah ! Jerry," said his master, " if you always told the truth, I should know when to believe you ; but, as you do not, you must take the consequences of your evil ways, and blame nobody but your- self." Upon hearing tliis, Jerry began dancing and hop- ping around the room in a very brisk and lively manner, even before his master was within ten feet of him, as if he already felt the switch about his legs. Just then, in the very nick of time, George came walldng leisurely by, hatchet in hand ; who, upon see- ing how matters stood, without a moment's hesitation, ran up to his father, and, dropping liis hatchet, caught him round the leg, just as the first stroke of the switch was about to descend on the calves of the un- lucky Jerry. GEORGE AT SCHOOL. 45 "O papa, papa!" cried he, "don't wliip poor Jerry : if somebody must be whipped, let it be me ; for it was I, and not Jerry, that cut the cherry-tree. I didn't know how much harm I was doing ; I didn't indeed." And the child began crying piteously. With a look of glad surprise, his father, dropping the switch, caught his brave little boy in his arms, and folded liim tenderly, lovingly, to his bosom. "Now, thanks be to God," cried he, "thanks be to God, that I have a son whose love of truth is greater than his fear of punishment ! Look on him, my black children, look on him, and be as near like him as you can, if you would have the love of yom' mas- ter and the good- will of all around you." Seeing the unlooked-for turn the affair had taken, and not having the words to express the feelings of joy and thankfidness that swelled almost to bursting in his little black breast, Jerry darted through the door, out into the yard, kicked up his heels, yelped like a young dog, threw a somerset in the snow, and went rolHng over and over down to the bottom of the hill, and ever after loved his noble little master to distraction. II. THE FIRST SORROW. WHEN George had learned all that poor old Hobby could teach him, his father, to re- ward liim for his diligence and good behavior at school, indulged liim in two or three weeks' holidays, which he went to spend at a .distance from home, among some friends and relatives. Here, as usual, he was made much of; for, being a great favorite with all who knew him, he met with a cordial reception wherever he went ; and what Avith hunting and fishing, riding and visiting, the time spent here was the most de- lightful he had ever known. But hardly had half the happy days flown by, when word came that his father was sick, even unto death ; and that, of all things, he most desired to look upon his noble boy once more before he died. With a sadness and heaviness of heart he had never before experienced, George set out on his return home, where he arrived just in time to receive his dying father's blessing. Long and deeply did he mourn his loss ; for his father was most ten- derly beloved by his children, and greatly esteemed [46] THE FIRST SORROW. 47 bj his friends and neighbors as a useful member of society, and a man of many sterling traits of cha- racter. Mrs. Washington was thus left a young widow with a large family of young children, whom it now became her duty to provide for and educate in a man- ner becomino^ a Christian mother ; and how well and faithfully and lovingly she discharged this sacred trust, is most beautifully set forth in the life and character of her great son. She was a woman of uncommon strength and clearness of understanding, and her heart was the home of every pure and noble virtue. She was mild, but firm ; generous, but just ; candid whenever she deemed it her duty to speak her mind, but never losing sight of the respect and considera- tion due to the feelings and opinions of others. She was gentle and loving with her children, yet exacting from them in return the strictest obedience to her will and wishes. But of all virtues most sacred in her eyes was that of the love of truth, which she ever sought to miplant in their minds ; assuring them, that, without it, all other virtues were but as unprofitahle weeds, barren of fruits and flowers. She was simple and dignified in her manners, and had a hearty dislike for every thing savoring of parade and idle show. She always received her friends and visitors with a cordial smile of welcome, spreading before them with an unsparing hand the best her house afforded : but, when they rose to depart, she 48 THE FAKMER BOY. would invite them once, and once only, to stay longer ; and, if after this they still seemed bent on going, she would do all in her power to speed them on their journey. With so many traits betokening strength of mind and character, she had but one weakness ; and tliis was her excessive dread of thunder, caused in early maidenhood by seeing a young lady struck dead at her side by lightning. And such was Mary, the mother of Washington ; and seldom indeed has her like been seen. As her husband, by industry and prudent management, had gathered together enough of the riches of this world to leave each of liis children a fine plantation, she was not hindered by straitened circumstances, or anxiety as to their means of future^ support, from giving her chief attention to such bodily and mental training as should have a lasting tendency to make them, in more mature years, healthy, virtuous, and wise. It has been often remarked, that those men who have most distinguished themselves in the world's his- tory for noble thoughts and heroic deeds, have, as a general thing, inherited those qualities of mind and heart which made them great, from then' mothers, rather than from their fathers ; and also that their efforts to Improve and elevate the condition of their fellow-beino^s have been owino- in a laro;er measure to the lessons of truth, piety, and industry, taught them by their mothers in childliood and early youth. If this be the case, then how much are we indebted THE FIRST SOEROW.. 49 for the freedom, prosperity, and happiness we now enjoy above other nations of the earth, to Mary, the mother of Washington ! Perhaps, to give you a still more forcible Idea of the characters of both mother and son, and of the wholesome effects on him of her judicious training, I ought to relate in this place the story of his attempt at taming the sorrel horse. A fine horse was an object that afforded ^irs. Washington, as it did the other substantial Yirglnia ladies of that day, quite as much, if not more, real pleasure than their more delicate grand-daughters of the present now find in their handsome carriages, lap-dogs, and canary-birds. So great was her fond- ness for tills noble animal, that she usually suffered two or three of her finest to run in a meadow in front of the house, where she might look at them from time to time as she sat sewing at her dining-room window. One of these was a young sorrel horse, of great beauty of form, and fleetness of foot, but of so wild and vicious a nature, that, for fear of accident, she had forbidden any one to mount him, although he had already reached his full height and size. Now, you must know that a bolder and more skil- ful rider than George was not to be found in all the Old Dominion, as Vu'glnla is sometimes called ; and it was this early practice that afterwards won for him the name of being the finest horseman of his day. Often, as we may very naturally suppose to 3 50 THE FAKMER BOY. have been the case, would he reason thus with hhn- self, as, sitting on the topmost rail of a worm fence, he watched the spirited young animal frisking and boundino: about the field in all the freedom of his untamed nature : "If I were but once upon his back, with a strong bit in his mouth, believe me, I would soon make him a thing of use as well as ornament ; and it would, I am sure, be such a pleasant surprise to mother to look fron* her window some fine morn- ing, and see me mounted on his back, and managing him with ease, and to know that it was I who had subdued his proud spirit." Accordingly, full of these thoughts, he arose early one bright summer morning, and in^ated two or three friends of his own age, then on a visit at his mother's house, to go with him to the fields, to share with him the sport, or lend their aid in carrying out his design, should it be found too difficult and haz- ardous for himself alone. They needed no second bidding, these young madcaps, to whom nothing could be more to their liking than such wild sport. So at it they went ; and after a deal of chasing and racing, heading and doubhng, falling down and pick- ing themselves up again, and more shouting and laughing than they had breath to spare for, they at last succeeded in driving the panting and affi-ighted young animal into a corner. Here, by some means or other (it was difficult to tell precisely how) , they managed to bridle liim, althouo^h at no small risk of THE FIRST SOEROW. 51 a broken head or two from his heels, that he seemed to fling about him in a dozen different directions at once. Having thus made liim their captive, they led him out to the more open parts of the field, where George requested his friends to hold him till he could get on his back. But the wild and unruly spirit the young beast had shown that morning had so dismayed them, that they flatly refused to comply ; begging him not to tliink of attempting it, as it would be at the risk of life or limb. But George was not to be daunted by such trifles ; and seeing that his blood was up, and knowing that, when this was the case with him, he was not to be turned aside from his purpose, they at length yielded unwilling consent to his en- treaties ; and, giving liim the required aid, he was soon mounted. This was an insult the proud-spirited animal could not brook ; and he began plunging and rearing in a manner so frightful to behold, that they who watched the struggle for mastery expected every moment to see the daring young rider hurled headlong to the ground. But he kept his seat unmoved and firm as an iron statue on an iron horse. At length, however, the horse, clinching the bit between his teeth, became for a time unmanageable, and sped away over the field on the wings of the wind ; till, making a false step, he staggered and plunged, rallied again, stag- gered, and, with the red life-stream gushing from liis nostrils, dropped down dead. 52 THE FAKMER BOY. George sprang from the ground unharmed : but, when he saw the noble young animal stretched out smoking and bloody and lifeless before him, tears of pity filled liis eyes ; and still faster did they flow when he thought of the grief it would occasion his mother, w^hen she should hear how her beautiful favo- rite had come to his end. His companions now rejoining liim, they all, with sad misgiving in their hearts, returned to the house, where Mrs. Washing- ton met them with a cheerful good-morning, and, when they had taken their seats at the breakfast-table, began talking with them in her usual lively and entertaining manner, until the dreaded question came : "Well, young gentlemen," said she, "have you seen any thing of my sorrel horse in your walks this morn- ing?" The boys looked at one another for some moments in silence, scarce knowing what answer to make. At last, George, to put an end to the painful suspense, said in a subdued voice, " Mother, the sorrel horse is dead." He then, in a few brief words, told her how it had all happened, and ended by entreating her forgiveness if he had oiFended ; at the same time assuring her, that, in so doing, he had only thought of giving her a pleasant surprise. When he first began his account of the mishap, a flush of anger rose to his mother's cheek ; of wliich, however, there was not a trace to be seen by the time he had finished ; and she answered, with some- THE FIRST SORROW. 53 thing like an approving smile, " My son, as you have had the courage to come and tell me the truth at once, I freely forgive you : had you skulked away, I would have despised you, and been ashamed to own you as my son." III. PLAYmG SOLDIER. s AFTER the death of her husband, ]Mrs. Wash- ington left the care and education of her son George, in no small measure, to the judgment and discretion of her step-son Lawrence, a young man of twenty-five, and lately married to Miss Fairfax. The love that had always existed between these two brothers was something beautiful indeed to behold, — the more so when we take into consideration the dif- ference of fourteen years in their ages ; and, now that their dear father was no more, this love grew all the more tender and strong, and George soon learned to look up to his eldest brother as to a second father. Mr. Lawrence Washington, besides being a fine scholar and one of the most polished gentlemen of his day, was also a brave and able soldier ; havino- served during the late Spanish war as a lieutenant under the great Admiral Vernon, in honor of whom he had named his fine estate on the Potomac, IMount Vernon. [54] PLAYING SOLDrER. 55 ^^ At Mount Yernon, then, we find George spending by far the greater portion of his holidays ; and here he often fell in with young officers, fellow-soldiers of his brother, to whom with eager ears he was wont to listen as they recounted their adventures, and told of hard-fought battles by land and sea wfth the roving pirates, or sea-robbers, and proud and venge- ful Spaniards. These stories so fired his ardent young spirit, that he longed of all things to become a great soldier, that he might go forth to fight the enemies of liis country, wherever they were to be found, and drive them from the face of the wide earth. To give these feelings some relief, he would muster his little school-fellows at play-time, and take them through the lessons of a military drill ; showing them how to fire and fall back, how to advance and retreat, how to form in line of march, how to pitch their tents for a night's encampment, how to lay an Indian ambuscade, how to scale a wall, how to storm a battery ; and, in short, forty other evolutions not to be found in any work on military tactics ever written, and at wliich old Wooden Leg, had he been there, would have shaken his cocked hat with a dubious look. Then dividing them into two opposing armies, with himself at the head of one, and the tall- est boy of the school leading on the other, he would incite them to fight sham battles with wooden swords, wooden guns, snow-balls, and such other munitions of war as came most readily to hand ; in which 56 THE FARRIER BOY. George, no matter what might be the odds against him, or what superior advantages the enemy might have in weapons or ground, was always sure to come oiF victorious. He was a handsome boy, uncommonly tall, strong, and active for his age ; could out-run, out-jump, out-ride any boy three years older than himself; and, in wrestling, there was not one in a hundred who could bring his back to the ground. Many stories are told of his wonderful strength ; and the spot is still shown, where, when a boy, he stood on the banks of the Rappahannock River, and, at its widest part, threw a stone to the opposite side, — a feat that no one has been found able to perform since that day. It was said, that, a few years later, he stood under the Natural Bridge, and threw a silver dollar upon the top of it, — a height of two hundred and twenty feet ; not less than that of Bunker-hill Monument, and more than double that of the tallest hickory that ever hailed down its ripened nuts- upon your heads. Although there were none more stu- dious than he in the schoolroom, yet he always took the keenest delight in every kind of active and manly sport, and was the acknowledged leader of the play- ground. But he had qualities of mind and heart far more desirable and meritorious than those of mere bodily activity and strength. Such was his love of truth, his strong sense of justice, and his clearness of judgment, that, when any dispute arose between PLAYING SOLDIER. 57 his playmates, they always appealed to him to decide the difference between them, as willing to abide by his decision, and make it their law. Although he had the courage of a young lion, and was even more than a match in strength for many an older boy, he was never known to have a fight at school, nor else- where indeed, that I have ever heard ; for such was the respect he ever showed to the feelings and wishes of others, that he never gave an insult, and, depend upon it, never received one. The hiofh oTound of !Mount Yernon commands a splendid view of the Potomac up and down for miles, where it makes a noble bend, and winds its shining course amidst verdant meadow-slopes and richly wooded hills. Now and then, in the course of the year, some noble ship, with all its sails outspread and gay banners fluttering to the breeze, might be seen moving down the majestic stream, hastening in its pride and strength to stem the billows of the mighty ocean. With the keenest of delight none but the young and daring mind can ever know, George, as he stood on the piazza in front of his brother's man- sion, would watch them with wishful eyes, until a bend of the river hid their lofty masts behind the green tops of the yet more lofty hills between. Then would there awaken in his heart an earnest longing to become a sailor ; to go forth in some gallant ship upon the face of the great deep ; to visit those far-off* countries, where he might behold with his own eyes 3* 58 THE FARRIER BOY. those wonders he had read so much of in books. At such times, it may be, there would arise in his mind enchanting visions of some desert island, upon whose lonely rocky shores he might some day have the rare good fortune of being thrown by the angry billows, there to dwell, like another Robinson Crusoe, many, many years, with no other company than talking birds, skipping goats, and dancing cats, and, if so lucky, a good man Friday, to be rescued by his daring from the bloody crutches of the terrible cannibals. Lawrence Washino;ton was not lono; in discoverino- CD O O the thoughts that were uppermost in the mind of the adventurous boy ; and, like the generous brother that he was, resolved that, should an opportunity offer, a wish so natural should be gratified. In a short time after, George being then about fourteen years of age, a British man-of-war moved up the Potomac, and cast anchor in full view of Mount Yernon. On board of this vessel his brother Lawrence procured him a midshipman's warrant, after having by much persuasion gained the consent of his mother ; which, however, she yielded with much reluctance, and many misgivings with respect to the profession her son was about to choose. Not knowing how much pain all this was giving his mother, George was as near wild with delight as could well be with a boy of a nature so even and steady. Now, what had all along been but a wakino^ dream was about to become PLAYING SOLDIER. 59 a wide-awake reality. His preparations were soon made : already was his trunk packed, and carried on board the ship that was to bear him so far away from his native land ; and nothing now.remained but to bid farewell to the loved ones at home. But when he came and stood before his mother, dressed in his gay midshipman's uniform, so tall and robust in figure, so handsome in face, and so noble in look and gesture, the thought took possession of her mind, that, if she suffered him to leave her then, she might never see him more ; and, losing her usual firmness and self-control, she burst into tears. "Deeply do I regret, my dear son," said she, "to disappoint you in a wish you have so near at heart : but I find I cannot bring myself to give you up yet ; for, young as you are, your aid and counsel have already become to me of the greatest service and comfort ; and these little fatherless ones, now weep- ing around you, have learned to look up to you as their protector and guide. You know too little of the ways of the world, and are too young and inex- perienced, to go forth to endure its hardships, and battle with its temptations, that lie in wait on every side to entrap the imwary, and lead them down to destruction. Without you, our home wovild be lonely indeed : then, for your mother's sake, and for the sake of these little ones, give up your darling scheme, for the present at least, that we may all be happy at home once more together." 60 THE FARMER BOY. Thus entreated, what could he do but yield con- sent to the wishes of a loving and prudent mother, and remain at home? where, in a few days, his noble self-denial was rewarded with a sweet contentment of mind that he could never have known had he left the dear ones in sorrow behind him, and gone forth to spend months and years upon the billows of the lonely seas. Surely a kind Heaven so ordered that the welfare and happiness of us Americans, and, it may be, that of the whole world, should be made to depend upon the promptings of a mother's love ; for had the boy Washington realized this early dream, and gone forth in that gallant ship, he might have perished in the stormy deep, and we had never known the name we now love so much to praise and venerate. Or, by his distinguished abilities, he might have risen to become in time the Lord Hio^h Admiral of the British Navy ; and, instead of being set apart to the salvation of his native land, might have been made an instrument to its destruction, impossible as such an event may now appear to us, with our knowledge of the glorious work he did perform when in the fulness of his strength and years, and accus- tomed as we are to behold in him our model of all that is great and virtuous in mankind. \ IV. "eiiLes of behavior." FOR the five years following his father's death, George made his home at the house of his half- brother, Augustine Washmgton, at a considerable distance from his mother's, where he might have the benefit of a better school which that neighborhood afforded. His new schoolmaster was a Mr. Wil- liams, a very worthy man ; who, however, although he knew a vast deal more than Mr. Hobby, the poor old grave-digger, was far from being w^hat we might call a first-rate scholar. But what his teacher lacked in learning, George made up in diligence, and the most judicious use of every means of self-improve- ment within his reach. And here, my dear children J let me remind you of a thing woxthy of your remem- brance through life, that success in the pursuit of knowledge depends far less upon the ability and skill of the teacher, than upon the industry, perseverance, and willing application of the learner. Under the instruction of this, his second and last ] teacher, George got a little insight into English ■ grammar, read some history, became well acquainted [61] 62 THE FARMER BOY. with geography, completely mastered arithmetic, and made handsome progress in geometry and trigonome- try ; which, as you must know, are higher branches of mathematics than arithmetic, and far more difficult to comprehend. In connection with the two latter, he studied surveying ; by which is taught, as you must continue to bear in mind hereafter, the mea- surement of land. When he had advanced so far in this study as to give him some idea of the proper use and handling of the chain and compass, the two principal instru- ments employed in this art, he began to put his knowledge into practice by taking surveys of the farms lying in the immediate neighborhood of his schoolhouse, and also of the lands belonging to the estate of Mount Vernon. Assisted by his schoolmates, he would follow up, and measure off with the help of his long steel chain, the boundary lines between the farms, such as fences, roads, and waterco,urses ; then those dividing the different parts of the same farm ; determining at the same time, with the help of his compass, their various courses, their crooks and windings, and the angles formed at their points of meeting or intersec- tion. This would enable him to get at the shape and size not only of each farm, but of every meadow, field, and wood composing It. This done, he would make a map or drawing on paper of the land sur- veyed, whereon would be clearly traced the lines "kules of behavior." «i3 dividing the different parts, with the name and num- ber of acres of each attached ; while, on the opposite page, he would write down the long and difficult tables of figures by wliich these results had been reached. All tliis he would execute with as much neatness and accuracy as if it had been left with him to decide thereby some gravely disputed land-claim. To quahfy himself for the management of business affairs upon reacliing the age of manhood, he would copy off into a blank-book every form or instrument of writing he would meet with ; such as deeds, wills, notes of hand, bills of exchange, receipts, bonds, land-warrants, &c., &c. And, what was still more remarkable in a boy of thirteen, he wrote down, under the head of what he called " Rules of Behavior in Company and Conversation," such wise maxuns, and lines of wholesome advice, as he would pick up from time to time in the course of liis readino* or observation, to aid him in forming habits of industry, politeness, and morality. Some of these rules, your Uncle Juvinell, with an eye mainly to your well- being, will repeat to you ; for, when but a boy, he got them by heart, well knowing, that, without some such aid, he would find it hard, if not impossible, to so order his walks throuoh life as to win and deserve the esteem and confidence of his fellow-men, as well as the blessing and approbation of his Maker. And now that he has reached the evening of his days, and is well assured that the daily observance of these 64 THE FAEMER BOY. rules has made him a wiser, a better, and a happier man, he would most earnestly advise all his friends, great or small, but especially small, be they boys or girls, to pursue the like course, if they would be favored of Heaven in the like manner. Here they are : — " 1. Every action in company ought to be with some sign of respect to those present. " 2. In the presence of others, sing not to yourself with a humming noise, nor drum with your lingers or feet. " 3. Speak not when others speak, sit not when others stand, speak not when you should hold your peace, walk not when others stop. " 4. Turn not your back to others, especially in speak- ing ; jog not the table or desk on which another reads or writes ; lean not on any one. "5. Be not a flatterer ; neither play with any one that delights not to be played with. " 6. Show not yourself glad at the misfortune of another, thougli he were your enemy. " 7. It is good manners to prefer them to whom we speak before ourselves, especially if they be above us ; with whom in no sort ouoht we to beojin. " 8. Strive not with your superiors in an argument, but always submit your judgment to others wdth modesty. " 9. Undertake not to teach your equal in the art him- self professes ; for it is immodest and presumptuous. " 1 0. When a man does all he can, though it succeeds not well, blame not him that did it. "11. Before you advise or find fault with any one, con- sider whether it ought to be in public or in private, pre- "rules of behavior." 65 sently or at some other time, in what terms to do it ; and, in reproving, show no signs of anger, but do it with sweet- ness and mildness. " 12. Take all advice thankfully, in what time or place soever given ; but afterwards, not being blamable, take a time or place convenient to let him know it that gave it. " 13. Mock not in jest at any thing of importance : if you deliver any thing witty and pleasant, abstain from laughing thereat yourself. " 1 4. Wherein you reprove another, be unblamable yourself; for example is better than precept. " 15. Use no reproachful language against any one ; neither cm'se nor revile. " 16. Be not hasty to believe flying reports to the injury of any. " 17. In your apparel, be modest, and endeavor to accommodate yourself to nature, rather than to procure admiration ; keep to the fashion of your equals, such as are civil and orderly, with respect to time and places. " 18. Play not the peacock, looking everywhere about you to see if you be well decked, if your shoes fit well, if your pantaloons sit neatly, and clothes handsomely. "19. Associate yourself with men of good quality, if you esteem your reputation ; for it is better to be alone than in bad company. " 20. Let your conversation be without malice or envy, for it is a sign of a kindly and commendable nature ; and, in all causes of passion, admit reason to govern. "21. Be not immodest in urging a friend to make known a secret. "22. Utter not base and frivolous things amongst grave QG THE FARMER BOY. and learned men, nor very difficult questions or subjects amono; the io-norant, nor thins^s hard to believe. " 23. Speak not of doleful things in time of mirth, nor at the table ; speak not of melancholy things, as death and wounds ; and, if others mention them, change, if you can, the discourse. Tell not your dreams but to your intimate friend. " 24. Break not a jest, when none take pleasure in mirth ; laugh not loud, nor at all, without occasion ; de- ride no man's misfortune, though there seem to be some cause. " 25. Speak not injurious words, neither in jest nor earnest'; scoff at none, although they give occasion. " 26. Seek not to lessen the merits of others ; neither give more th^^n due praise. "27. Go not thither where you know not whether you shall be welcome. Give not advice without being asked ; and, when desired, do it briefly. " 28. Reprove not the imperfections of others ; for that belongs to parents, masters, and superiors. " 29. Gaze not on the marks or blemishes of others, and ask not how they came. What you may speak in secret to your friend, deliver not before others. " 30. Think before you speak ; pronounce not iraper-. fectly^ nor bring out your words too hastily, but orderly and distinctly. "31. When another speaks, be attentive yourself, and disturb not the audience. If any hesitate in his words, help him not nor prompt him without being desired ; interrupt him not nor answer him until his speech be ended. " 32. Treat with men at right times about business, and whisper not in the company of others. "eules of behavioe." 67 " 33. Be not in haste to relate news, if you know not . the truth thereof. " 34. Be not curious to know the affairs of others ; neither approach those that speak in private. "35. Undertake not what you cannot perform, but be careful to keep your promise. " 36. When your masters or superiors talk to anybody, hearken not, nor speak or laugh. " 37. Speak not evil of the absent ; for it is unjust. " 38. Make no show of taking delight in your victuals ; feed not with greediness ; cut your food with a knife, and lean not on the table ; neither find fault with what you eat. "39. Be not angry at the table, whatever happens ; and, if you have reason to be so, show it not, but put on a cheerful face, especially if there be strangers ; for good himior makes of one dish a feast. " 40. If you speak of God or his attributes, let it be seriously, in reverence ; and honor and obey your parents. " 41. Let your recreations be manful, not sinful. " 42. Labor to keep in your breast that little spark of celestial fii"e called conscience." Now, does it not strike you, my dear children, as being most truly wonderful that it should have ever entered the mind of a boy of thirteen to lay down for his own guidance and self-improvement such rules and principles as these I have just repeated? It certainly must. And yet when I tell you that he strictly adhered to them through life, and squared his conduct by them daily, you will, no doubt, think N Q8 THE FARMER BOY. it quite unreasonable that he could have been other than the good and great man he was. These writings I have mentioned filled several quires of paper ; and together with his business jmpers, letters, journals, and account-books, written later in Hfe, and with the same neatness and preci- sion, are still preserved at Mount Vernon with pious care ; and are even now to be seen by those who go on pilgrimages to that sacred spot, although, since many of them were penned, more than a hundred years have come and gone. And thus, my children, you have seen young Washington, at an age when most boys are wasting their precious hours In Idle sports, seeldng to acquire those habits of industry, punctuality, and method, which afterwards enabled him so to economize time and labor as to do with ease and expedition what others did with difficulty and tardiness. You have seen him making the best use of the slender means wltliin his reach for storing his mind with those trea- sures of knowledge, and schooling his heart in the daily practice of those exalted virtues, which, after a life well spent and work well done, make good his title to the name he bears, — the greatest and the wisest of human kind. At last, the day came when George was to leave school for ever ; and a day of sorroAv it was to his school-fellows, who parted from liim with many an affectionate wisli, and, as we are told, even with "rules of behavior." 69 tears ; so greatly had he endeared himself to them by his noble disposition, gentle manners, and earnest desire to do as he would be done by, which appeared in all his words and actions. In these regrets, Mr. Wilhams, his worthy schoolmaster, also shared ; and it gave him in after-life, when his little George had become the great Washington, the most heartfelt pleasure to say, that it had never been his privilege to teach another pupil who could at all compare with him for diligence in application, aptitude in learning, docility of disposition, manly generosity, courage, and truth. V. IN THE WILDERNESS. EXTENDING from the Eappaliannock to the Potomac, and stretching away beyond the Blue Ridge far into the Alleghany Mountains, there lay at this time an immense tract of forest land, broken only here and there by a little clearing, in the midst of which stood the rude log-cabin of some hardy backwoodsman. This large body of land — the largest, indeed, ever owned by any one man in Virginia — was the property of a great Enghsh nobleman named Lord Fairfax, an old bachelor of eccentric habits and strange opinions, but of a highly cultivated understanding, and, Avhen it so pleased him, of polite and elegant address. His stature was lofty, — far above that of the common run of men. He was a keen sportsman, had a fund of whimsical humor, and, in his odd way, showed himself pos- sessed of a kindly and generous heart; sometimes making a tenant or poor friend the present of a large farm, without requiring any thing in return but a haunch of venison or a fat wild turkey for his next Christmas dinner. [70] IN THE WILDERNESS. 71 Havlns: heard that settlements were beino^ made in the most fertile valleys of his wild domain, he had lately come over from the mother-country to inquire into the matter, and make suitable provision against any future encroachments of the kind upon his rights. He now beheld his forest possessions for the first time ; and so charmed was he with the wild beauty of the scenery, and so won over by enticing visions of fisliing and hunting, conjured up by the sight of the wavino; woods and runnino; streams, that he re- solved to leave his native land for ever, and take up his abiding-place for the rest of his days amid those leafy solitudes. Accordingly, he betook himself, with all his negro servants (numbering one hundred and fifty) , and a few white dependants-, to the beau- tiful Yalley of the Shenandoah, lying between the Blue Ridge and the Alleghany Mountains ; where he soon cleared a large plantation, and built thereon a house, to which he gave the name of Greenway Court. From that time forward, this became his fixed abode ; but, as he had more land than a thousand men could put to any good use, he was quite will- ing to dispose of all, except what lay for a few miles immediately around Greenway Court, at rea- sonable rates, to such honest persons as were willing to buy it and make it their future home. But, in order that no misunderstanding might arise hereafter between the parties concerned with respect to the 72- THE FARMER BOY. * boundary-line and number of acres bought and sold, it was necessary, in the first place, to have the land surveyed, and divided into lots of convenient sizes for farms. Now, you must know that old Lord Fairfax was a distant relative of Mrs. Lawrence Washington, and had, as a natural consequence, often met our George at Mount Vernon ; and so struck was he with the manly bearing, high character, good sense, and mathematical skill, of the fah'-haired, blue-eyed youth, that he offered him, young as he was, the place of surveyor of all his vast lands. Being the son of a widowed mother, and earnestly desirous of aiding her all in liis power, and earning for himself an honest independence, George was but too happy to accept of the offer ; and the necessary arrangements were soon made. Having provided himself with all tilings needful for the new enterprise, — such as a horse, a rifle, a blanket, and a steel chain and compass, — he set out, at the head of a small party of hunters and backwoodsmen, upon tliis his first considerable, field of labor, early in the spring of 1748, just one month from the completion of his sixteenth year. They were soon in the depths of the wilderness, miles beyond the most distant frontier settlements. The snows of winter that still lingered on the moun- tains, warmed by the softer airs of early spring, had melted so rapidly of late as to swell the forest streams to a degree that rendered their fording often difficult, IN THE WILDERNESS. 73 and even sometimes dangerous. Now and then, com- ing to a stream which had overflowed Its banks, the httle party would be obliged to construct a raft of logs, roughly lashed together with grape-vines, upon wlilch they could push to the opposite side, without getting their baggage wet, and, at the same time, compel their horses to swim along behind. Their way was often obstructed by the trunks and branches of fallen trees, thickets tangled and dense and thorny, huge and rugged rocks, and treacherous swamps, covered with long, green grass, into wlilch the horses, stepping unawares, would suddenly plunge up to the saddle-gu*ths in water and mire. For some time, they lodged in wigwams or huts, rudely framed of poles, and covered with the bark of trees ; which served the purpose well enough when the weather was dry and still, but were often beaten down and overturned by the winds and rains when their shelter was most needed. After two or three of these rickety shanties had been tumbled about their heads, to the no small risk of life or limb, they wisely concluded to abandon them, and sleep in the open air, with the twinkling stars above them, the gray old trees around them, and the damp, cold ground beneath them, with notliing between but their good blankets, and the dead, dry leaves of autumn heaped together ; and lucky was he who got the place nearest the fire, or could put the mossy trunk of a fallen tree between him and the biting 74 THE FARMER BOY. blast, or, better still, could boast a bearskin for lils bed. A little before sunset, they would halt for the nio-ht in some sheltered spot, convenient to a running stream ; where, turning their horses loose to graze till morning, they would build a cheerful fire of the dry brushwood close at hand, and prepare their even- ing meal, which they would eat with a keenness of appetite known only to the tired and hungry hunter. Each man was his own cook ; then- food consisting cliiefly of venison and wild turkey their rifles pro- cured them, and fish drawn from the neighboring brook, which they would broil on the glowing coals, fastened to a forked stick Instead of a spit, and then eat It from a maple cliip, instead of a dish. If the season permitted them to add to this a hatful of ber- ries that grew on the sunny side of the hill, or acorns from the mountain-oak, or nuts from the. hickory- tree, or, more delicious still, plums, persimmons, and pawpaws, that grew In the more open parts of the woods, they made of it a dainty feast indeed. Now and then, in the course of this rambling life in the wilderness, they met with roving bands of skin-clad Indians, either as warriors out upon the war-path against some distant tribe, or as hunters roaming the forest in quest of game. One evening, late, as our little party of surveyors were about to encamp for the night, they spied through the trees the gllnnnering light of a large fire on the top of a far-olF hill. Cinlous to know who, besides them- IN THE WILDERNESS. 75 selves, could be in that lonely place, they determined to go tliither before stopping ; and, guided by the light, reached ere long the spot, where they found a small squad of Indian hunters, resting themselves after the fatigues of the day's chase. They seemed to be in liigh good humor, as if the hunt had gone well with them that day ; and, being in tliis mood, extended a true Indian welcome to the new-comers ; setting before them, with open-handed hospitality, heaps of parched corn, and their choicest bits of venison, wild turkey, bear's meat, and fish. Supper ended, the pipe of peace and good-will passed from mouth to mouth, as a pledge that all should go on well between them ; after wliich the Indians, for the further entertainment of their white guests, and as a more marked manner of showing their respect, set about preparing themselves for a war-dance. In the first place, they cleared the ground around the fire of chunks and brushwood, and other obstruc- tions that might hinder the free play of their feet and legs in the performance. Then the two musicians began to put in order and tune their instruments : that is to say, one of them filled a camp-kettle half fiill of water, over which he tightly stretched a raw- hide, and, tapping it twice or thrice with a stick, drew forth a holloAV, smothered sound therefrom, by way of giving to those not in the secret a liint that this was to be their drum ; while the other made a rattle by putting a few bullets or pebbles into a hard, 76 THE FAEMER BOY. dry gourd of monstrous size, to the handle of which he fastened a horse's tail, not so much to improve its tone perhaps, as to give it a more finished appear- ance. These simple preparations soon completed, a tall warrior, grimly painted as if for battle, advanced a few paces into the circle > and, squatting upon his haunches, fixed his eyes for several moments with a hard, stony look upon nothing whatever, till the first tap of the drum and the first jerk of the rattle, when he suddenly leaped up, with a deafening yell that made the old woods ring again, and began capering about in the most astonisliing manner, causing such a commotion among the dry leaves and dead twigs as made it appear that a little whirlwind had all at once been let loose among them. Another soon followed, and got up a similar sensation among the dry leaves and dead twigs on his own private account ; while a third, springing into the circle, did the same ; and so on, until at last the whole party were hot in the dance. Some brandished their scalj^ing-knives, some flourished their tomahawks, some waved aloft the scalps of their enemies taken in battle ; all yelling the while, and all making horrible faces. And warmer and warmer they waxed in the dance, and round and round they went ; now up in the air, now down on the ground ; jumping and kicking, yelping and barking, spinning and whirling, yelling and liowling, like a pack of hobgoblins and imps on a IN THE WILDERNESS. 77 spree. The hollow woods gave back the barbarous din in a thousand obstreperous echoes ; and afar off, from the depths of the lonely forest glens, might have been heard, had not the attention of the spectar- tors been otherwise engaged, the answering howl of the hungry wolves. After some time spent In this outlandish amuse- ment, without any previous notice whatever, plump down they sat, and, in a minute, were smoking their pipes with as much gravity and composure as if they had just come in from a gentle promenade with their wives and cliildren along the banks of a smooth and tranquil river. It was a sight, once seen, never to be forgotten. At first, George and liis friends had looked on with open-eyed amazement ; but, • before the dance was ended, the whole scene appeared to them so comical, that they had need of all their self- control to keep a sober countenance, so as not to give offence to their savage entertainers. VI. THE YOUNG SUKVEYOR. IT was a glorious region of stately woods, fertile valleys, clear running streams, and lofty moun- tains, where our young sm'veyor, with the exception of the winter months, spent the next three years of his Hfe. At first, not being accustomed to such severe privations and exposure, it had gone rather hard with him : but he soon became inured to them ; and it was, no doubt, to tliis rough experience in the wilderness, that he owed, in large measure, his un- common vigor and activity of body, and that firm reliance on the resoiu:ces of his own mind, which enabled him to endure and overcome those hardsliips, trials, and difficulties wliich beset liim throughout the greater portion of his after-life. This severe training was also of another advantage to liim, in making Inm perfectly familiar with all that region, in whose dark retreats and rugged wilds he learned, a few years later, his first hard lessons in the art of war. With all its privations, it was a life he loved to lead ; for it afforded him the means of an independent support : and a happy boy was he, when first he [78] THE YOUXG SURVEYOR. 79 wrote his mother that he was earning from fifteen to twenty dollars for every day he worked. Besides this, the beauty and grandeur of Nature's works, everywhere visible around him, awakened in him feel- ings of the truest delight ; and he would sometimes spend the better part of a summer's day in admiring the tall and stately trees, whose spreading branches were his only shelter from the dews of heaven, and heat of noonday. At night, after supper, when his companions would be talking over the adventures of the day just past, or laugliin^ boisterously at some broad joke repeated for the hundredth time, or would be joining their voices in the chorus of some rude woodland song, our young surveyor would be sitting a little apart on the trunk of a fallen tree, pencil and paper before him, calculating with a grave coun- tenance, and by the ruddy light of a blazing pine- knot, the results of the day's labor. With no other companionsliip than that of the wild Indians he fell in with fi'om time to time, and the rude, unlettered hunters around him, he must needs turn for society to the thoughts that stirred witliin his own mind. Often would he withdraw himself ft'om the noisy mirth of his companions, and, climbing to some lofty mountain-top, spend hours and hours rapt in the contemplation of the wild and varied region, smiling in life and beauty far, far beneath liim. At such times, we can imagine his countenance lit up with a sacred joy, and liis soul rising in praise and thanks- 80 THE FARMER BOY. giving to tlie great Father, who, in love and wisdom, made this glorious world for the good and happiness of all that dwell therein. Now and then, for the sake of a refresliing change, he would leave the wilderness behind liim, with all its toils and dangers, and betake liim to Greenway Court, the woodland home of old Lord Fairfax, with whom he had become a great favorite, and was ever a wel- come guest. Here he would spend a few weeks in the most agreeable manner you can well imagine ; for the old lord, being a man of some learning and extensive reading, had collected, in the course of a long life, a large library of the best and rarest books, from wliich, during these three years, George de- rived great pleasure and much valuable information. Besides this, a keener fox-hunter than this odd old bachelor was not to be found in all the Old Domi- nion ; and, for the full enjoyment of this sport, he always kept a pack of hounds of the purest EngHsh blood. At the first peep of dawn, the cheerful notes of the hunter's horn, and the deep-mouthed baying of the fox-hounds, filling the neighboring woods with their Mvely din, would call our young surveyor from his slumbers to come and join in the sports of the morning. Waiting for no second summons, he would be up and out in a trice, and mounted by the side of the merry old lord ; when, at a signal wound on the bugle, the whole party would dash away, pell-mell, helter-skelter, over the hills and throusrh THE YOUNG SURVEYOR. 81 the woods, up the hills and down them again, across the brooks and along the winding river ; hunters and horses hard on the heels of the hounds, hounds hard on the heels of poor Renard, and poor Eenard cutting, cutting away for dear hfe. During the three years thus employed, George riiade liis home at Mount Yernon, it being nearer and more convenient to his field of labor ; but, as often as his business would permit, he would go on a visit to his mother at the old homestead on the Rappahan- nock, whither, as I shoidd have told you before now, his father had removed when he was but three or four years old. These were precious opportunities, ever improved by him, of extending to her that aid in the management of her family affairs, wliich to receive from him was her greatest pleasure, as well as his truest delio'ht to o-iye. About this time, he formed a habit of writing down in a diary or day-book such facts and observa- tions as seemed to him worthy of note, by wliich means he would be enabled to fix firmly in his mmd whatever might prove of use to him at a future day. Tliis is a most excellent habit ; and I would earnestly advise all young persons, desirous of increasing their stock of knowledge, to form it as soon as they begin the study of grammar and can write a good round hand. The following is a specimen of this diary, written by him at the age of sixteen, as you will see by the date therein given : — 4* 82 THE FAEMER BOY. "Marcli 13th, 1748. — Rode to his lordship's (Lord Fairfax's) quarter. About four miles higher up the She- nandoah, we went through most beautiful groves of sugar- trees, and spent the better part of the day in admiring the trees and richness of the land. " 14th. — We sent our baggage to Capt. Kite's, near Fredericktown ; and went ourselves down the river about sixteen miles (the land exceedingly rich all the way, pro- ducing abundance of grain, hemp, and tobacco), in order to lay oflf some land on Cole's Marsh and Long Marsh. " loth. — Worked hard till night, and then returned. After supper, we were lighted into a room ; and I, not being so good a woodsman as the rest, stripped myself very orderly, and went into the bed, as they called it ; w^hen, to my surprise, I found it to be nothing but a little straw matted together, without sheet or any thing else, but only one threadbare blanket, with double its weight of vermin. I was glad to get up and put on my clothes, and lie as my companions did. Had we not been very tired, I am sure we should not have slept much that night. I made a pro- mise to sleep so no more ; choosing rather to sleep in the open air, before a fire. "18th. — We travelled to Thomas Berwick's on the Potomac, where we found the river exceedingly high, by reason of the great rains that had fallen among the Alle- ghanies. They told us it would not be fordable for several days ; it being now six feet higher than usual, and rising. We agreed to stay till Monday. We this day called to see the famed Warm Springs. We camped out in the field this night. " 20th. — Finding the river not much abated, we in the evening swam our horses over to the Maryland side. THE YOimG SURVEYOR. 83 " 21st. — We went over in a canoe, and travelled up the Maryland side all day, in a continued rain, to Col. Cresap's, over against the mouth of the South Branch, about forty miles from the place of starting in the morning, and over the worst road, I believe, that ever was trod by man or beast." In tills diary, he also entered such items as these, — the number of acres of each lot of land sm^veyed, the quality of the soil, the growth of plants and trees, the height of the hills, the extent of the valleys, and the length, breadth, and course of the streams. From the items thus collected, he would draw the materials for the reports it was his duty to submit, from time to time, for examination, to liis patron or employer ; and such was the clearness, brevity, and exactness displayed therein, and such the industry, skill, and fidelity with which he performed his toil- some and difficult task, that the generous old lord not only rewarded him handsomely for his services, but continued to cherish for him tln^ough life a truly fatherly affection. In after-years, Washington was wont to turn with peculiar fondness to tliis period of his life, as perhaps aiFording the only leisure he had ever known for sen- timental musings, and the indulgence of what fancy he may have had in those bright visions of future happiness, fame, or enterprise, to which all men are more or less given during the immature years of youth.* Tliis, to my mind, is to be easily enough 84 THE FARMER BOY. accounted for, if ^ye but ascribe It to a certain little circumstance ; concerning which, as It exercised no small Influence on his mind at the time, I will now tell you all that Is known, and. It may be, more than ever can be known with possible certainty. From a letter written by him at the age of fifteen, and also from some sad and plaintive verses of his own composition found In his copy-book, we learn that the boy, who should grow to become the great- est man that ever made tliis glorious world of ours more glorious with lils wise precepts and virtuous example, was at tliis time a victim of the tender pas- sion called love^ of which most of you little folks as yet know nothing but the four letters that spell the word. The object of this early attachment was a dam- sel, of whom nothing certain is known, as her name, from the fact of its never being repeated above a whisper, has not come down to our day, but w^ho was called by him In his confidential correspondence the Lowland Beauty. As he had none of that self- assurance which lads of his age are apt to mistake for pluck or spirit, he never ventured to make known the secret of this passion to the object thereof; and it Is probable, that we, even at the big end of a hundred years, are wiser as to tliis tender passage of his life than was ever the young lady herself. -Not having the courage to declare the sentiments that warmed liIs breast, he wisely resolved to banish them fr6m his THE YOUNG SURVEYOR. 85 mind altogether ; and this, I will venture to say, was one reason why he so readily accepted of old Lord Fairfax's offer, and was willing for so long a time to make his abiding-place in the wilderness. But it was months, and even years, before he could get the better of his weakness, if such it could be justly called ; for a wilderness, let me tell you (and I hope the hint will not be lost on my little friends) , is the last place in the world, that a man, or a boy either, should take to, as the readiest means of ridding himself of such troublesome feelings. No wonder, then, that our young surveyor was grave and thouglitful beyond liis years ; and that the lonely forest, with its ever-chan- ging beauties and wild seclusion, viewed through the bewitched eyes of love, should have had greater charms for liim than the noisy, bustling haunts of men. That you may have a more distinct idea of the appearance of Washington at the time of which we are speaking, your Uncle Juvinell will conjure up, from the linjo^erino; lights and shadows of his dull old fancy, a little picture, to be gilded anew by your bright young fancies, and hung up in that loftiest chamber of your memory w^hich you are wont to adorn with your portraits of the good and great men and women who have blessed the earth, and of whom we love so much to read and hear. It is a summer morning, and the eastern moun- tains flino; their sliadows lonp; and hujje across the lonesome valleys. Our little party of surveyors, 86 THE FAllMER BOY. ha\^ng spent the night on the summits of one of the less lofty peaks of the Blue Kklge, are slowly de- scending Its shrubby sides to the more densely wooded parts of the wilderness below, of whose waste fer- tility many a broad tract have they yet to explore, and many a mile of boundary-line have chain and compass yet to measure and determine. Still linger- ing on the summit far above, as loath to quit the contemplation of the splendid prospect seen from thence, stands a tall youth of eighteen, with his right arm thrown across his horse's neck, and Ills left hand grasping his compass-stafF. He is clad m a buckskin huntlmr- shirt, with leo'O'lns and moccasons of the same material, — the simple garb of a backwoodsman, and one that well becomes him now, as in perfect keeping with the wildness of the surrounding scenery ; while in Ills broad leathern belt are stuck his long hunting- knife and Indian tomahawk. In stature he is much above most youths of the same age : he is of a hand- some and robust form, with high and strong but smooth features, light-brown hair, large blue eyes, — not brilliant, but beaming with a clear and steady llii'ht, as if a soul looked tlu'ouo'h them that knew no CD ' O taint of vice or meanness, — and a countenance all glorious with a truth and courage, modest gentleness, and manly self-reliance ; and as he thus hngers on that lonely mountain-height, glorified as it were with the fresh pure light of the newly risen sun, with head uncovered and looks reverent, he seems in holy com- THE YOUNG SURVEYOR. 87 munion with his Maker, to whom, in the tender, guileless years of childliood, a pious mother taught him to kneel, morning and evening, in prayer, thanks- giving, and adoration. Anon, his morning devotions ended, he turns to take, ere following his companions down the moun- tain, another view of the varied panorama spread out far beneath him, the chief feature of which is a val- ley, surpassing in beauty and fertility any that that summer's sun will shine on ere reaching his golden gateway in the west. Through this valley, glimmer- ing, half sdfen, half hid among the waving woods, runs a river, with many a graceful bend, so beautiful, that, in the far-away years of the past, some long- forgotten tribe of Indians called it Shenandoah, or Shining Daughter of the Stars ; a name that still lin- gers like a sweet echo among the mountains. And as the eyes of the young surveyor slowly range the wide prospect from point to point, and take in miles and miles of beauty at a single stretch of view, there is a look in them as if he would recall some pleasing dream of the niffht, wliich he would now fain brino* forth, though but a dream, to refine and elevate the thoughts wherewith his mind must needs be occuj)ied throughout the day. He is familiar with every fea- ture of the landscape before him : he knows each shady dell and sunny hill, and every grassy slope and winding stream ; for there he has made his home this many a day. He has seen it all a thousand times, and 88 THE FARMER BOY. each time with renewed delight. But now it has a glory not all its own, nor borrowed from the morning sun, but from the first warm light of youthful love that burns in liis heart for his Lowland Beauty. VII. FIRST MILITARY APPOINTMENT. ABOUT this time, the Indians inhabiting that vast reo'ion extendins^ from the Ohio River to the great lakes of the north, secretly encouraged and aided by the French, began to show signs of hostility, and threatened the western borders of Virginia, Penn- sylvania, and New York, with all the dismal horrors of their bloody and wasting warfare. The alarm spread rapidly from the frontier even to the Atlantic coast, till the whole country was awakened to the sense of the impending danger. To put the Province of Virginia in a better posture of defence, the governor thereof, Robert Dinwiddie, besides other measures, divided it into four grand military districts. Over each of these he placed what is called an adjutant-general, whose duty it was to organize and train the militia, instruct the officers in matters touching the art and science of war, to re- view the different companies when on parade, and to inspect their arms and accoutrements, and see that they were kept ready for use at a moment's warning. [89] 90 THE FARMER BOY. The energy, fidelity, and soundness of judgment, that young Washington had lately shown while act- ing as surveyor, had won for him a name in the colony ; and, becoming known to Governor Dinwid- dle, he was appointed by that gentleman adjutant- general of the Northern district ; receiving along with liis commission the rank of major, which entitled him to the salary of seven hundred and fifty dollars a year. You have already seen what great delight he took in martial exercises when a school-boy ; and, now that he was to become a soldier in the true sense of the term, you will not be surprised to learn that this appointment was altogether agreeable to his pre- sent taste and inclinations. To show his deep sense of the honor done him, and the trust and confidence reposed in him, he determined to perform liis work well and faithfully as far as in him lay. The better to qualify himself for the duties of his office, he placed liimself under the instruction of his brother Lawrence, and other officers Hvins: in that part of the province, who had served under Admiral Vernon during the late Spanish war. These gentle- men, besides giving him the benefit of their experience and observation, placed in his hands the best w^orks on military science then in use ; from which he learned the various modes of training militia, the different manoeuvres of an army" on the field of battle, and their management wliile on the hue of march, together with the most approved plans of building forts, tlu'ow- FIRST MILITARY APPOINTMENT. 91 ing up intrencliments and redoubts, and the construc- tion of other works of defence, whether of wood or earth or stone. At the same time, he also made him- self acquainted with the handling and design of many weapons and engines of war ; and under the instruc- tion of Capt. Van Braam, a Dutch fencing-master, he became very skilful In the use of the sword. Thus Mount Vernon, from being the quiet mansion of a country gentleman, was now, in a manner, converted Into a military school ; and the youth, who but a few years before, as he strolled among Its verdant retreats, had, in honor of his Lowland Beauty, made his first and only attempt of putting lils thoughts and feelings in verse, was, at the early age of nineteen, called upon to dlscharo'e those stern duties which men of au'e and experience alone are generally thought able to per- form. The district allotted to Major Washington (for so we must now call him) consisted of several large counties, each of which the duties of lils office obliged lilm to visit from time to time ; and such was the energy and spirit he carried into liis work, and such ability did he display, and such was the manliness and dignified courtesy with wlilch he deported him- self on all occasions, that he soon completely won the confidence and aiFectlons of both officers and men, who were inspired by his example to still greater zeal and patriotism in the service of their country. But these labors, so agreeable to one of his age and ardent spirit, were now Interrupted for several 92 THE FARMER BOY. months. His brother Lawrence, who had always been of a delicate constitution, was now thought to be in the last stages of consumption, and was advised by his physicians to betake himself to the West In- dies, where he might yet, perhaps, find some relief in the warmer suns and milder airs of those beautiful islands. As he would have need of cheerful company and gentle and careful nursing, he took with him his favorite brother George ; and, embarking from Alex- andria, was soon out upon the shining billows of the deep-blue sea, in quest of that health he was never again to find. Their place of destination was the charming little Island of Barbadoes, where, after a somewhat stormy voyage, they arrived in safety. While here, Major Wasliington had an attack of small-pox, which handled him rather severely ; and for some time he was thouoht to be in a dano^erous condition. But in a few weeks, by dint of careful nursing, joined to the natural vigor of his constitu- tion, he got the better of this frightful malady ; and, when he was completely restored, not a disfiguring trace of it remained. During his sojourn here, he still continued his habit of writing down in a journal whatever of importance or interest came under his observation ; In whicli, among other items, we find such as the following, — the speed of the ship in which they sailed ; the direc- tion of the winds ; some account of a storm that overtook them on their voyage; the cities, sliips. FIR&T MILITARY APPOINTJVIENT. 93 forts, and military strength of the Island of Barba- does ; its products ; manners and customs of the people, and the laws and government under which they lived. By this means, contributing as it did to habits of close and accurate observation, he impressed the more strongly upon his memory such facts as might prove of use to him at a future day. Our two Virginians, during the three or four months of their stay on the island, were treated with much courtesy and hospitality by the inhabitants. But neither the genial cHmate of the region, nor the kindly hospltahty of the people, was enough to re- store that health and strength to the invalid for which he had come so far and hoped so long. Feeling that his end was drawing nigh, Lawrence Washington resolved to hasten home, that he might have the melancholy satisfaction of spending his last moments in the midst of his family and friends. He had scarcely returned to Mount Yernon, and bid a fond farewell to the loved ones there, when the angel of death summoned him to take another and a longer voyage, in quest of immortality, to be found in the islands of the blest, that smile in never-fading beauty on the bosom of the eternal sea. Thus, at the early age of thirty-four, died Law- rence Washington, one of the most amiable and accomplished gentlemen of liis day. He left behind him an affectionate wife, a sweet Kttle daughter, a devoted brother, and many a loving friend, to mourn 94 THE FAEMEE BOY. ' his loss. In his will, he bequeathed his fine estate of Mount Vernon and all else that he possessed to his brother George ; on condition, however, that his wife should have the use of it during her lifetime, and that his daughter should die without children to in- herit it. The daughter did not reach the years of maidenhood ; and, the mother surviving but a few years, George was left in the undivided possession of a large and handsome property ; and, in a worldly point of view, liis fortune was really already made. But, for all that, he long and deeply mourned the death of this much loved and valued brother, who had been to him father and friend ever since that first great sorrow of his cliildhood, when he became a widow's son and a widow's blessing. And thus, my little children, I have told you the story of tills great and good man's life from his years of infancy up to those of early manhood. I have dwelt at greater length upon this period of his life than perhaps any other historian, and have told you some things that you might look for elsewdiere in vain. , In my treatment of this part of the subject, it has been my chief aim and earnest desire to impress upon your opening minds this one great truth, — that, if you would be good and wise in your manhood, you must begin, now in early youth, to put forth all your powers, and use all the means within your reach, to store your mind with useful knowledge, and direct your thoughts and actions in the ways of truth and riEST MILITAKY APPOINTMENT. 95 virtue, industry and sobriety. The boy Washington did all this ; and, ere we have done, you shall see the glorious results of such a good beginning. Be like liim in your youth, — patient and diligent, loving and dutiful, truthful and prayerful ; that you may be like liim in the fulness of years, — esteemed and beloved, happy and good, useful and wise. VIII. IMPORTANT EXPLANATIONS. TIEN Uncle Juvlnell had finished this part of liis story, he paused, and with a beam- ing face looked round upon his little cu-cle of lis- teners. Two or three of the youngest had long since Mien asleep ; and Master Ned, having heard the story of the little hatchet, had stolen quietly away to the cabin, just to see how " black daddy " was getting along with his sled. Having waited till it was finished, he had, for his own private amuse- ment, taken it to a nice hillside, and was now coast- ing on it all alone by the light of a good-humored, dish-faced moon. The other children had listened with great interest and attention to the story, and were still sitting with their eyes bent earnestly on the fire, whose great bright eye had by this time grown a little red, and was winking in a slow and sleepy way, as if it were saying, " Well done. Uncle Juvi- nell, — very well done indeed. I have been listening very attentively, and quite approve of all you ha^ e said, especially all that about the wooden-legged schoolmaster, the little hatchet, the sorrel horse, the [96] BIPORTANT EXPLAJS^ATIONS. 97 Indian war-dance, and the Lowland Beauty, not to mention those wise maxims and wholesome moral pre- cepts you brought in so aptly. All of it is very fine and very good, and just to my liking. But I am thinking it is high bed-time for these little folks." Uncle Juvinell was much gratified to see how deeply interested the children were in what he had been telling them ; and in a Httle while he called upon them to let him know how they all liked it. Laura said that it was very nice ; Ella, that it was charm- ing ; Daniel, that it was quite as interesting as Plutarch's Lives ; Willie, that it was even more so than "Kobinson Crusoe;" and Bryce, that it was very good, but he would have liked it better had Uncle Juvinell told them more about the Indians. Just then. Master Charhe awoke from a comfortable nap of an hour or two, having dropped asleep shortly after the sorrel horse dropped dead ; and, to make believe that he had been as wide awake as a weasel from the very start, began asking such a string of questions as seemed likely to have no end. After a droll jumbling of Washington with Jack the Giant- killer, old Lord Fairfax w^ith Bluebeard, poor old Hobby, the wooden-legged schoolmaster, with the Roving Bed Robber, he at last so far got the better of his sleepy senses as to know what he would be driving at; when he said, "Uncle Juvinell, did his father let him keep his little hatchet after he had cut the cherry-tree ? " 5 98 THE FARMER BOY. "History, my little nephew," replied liis uncle •with a sober countenance, "does not inform us whether he did or not ; but you may be quite sure that he did, well knowing that a little boy who would choose rather to take a whipping than tell a lie, or suffer another to be punished for an offence he had himself committed, would never be guilty the second time of doing that wherein he had once been for- bidden." " What became of black Jerry after he turned a somerset in the snow, and went rolling over and over down the liill?" Charlie went on. "Jerry, I am happy to say," replied his uncle, "was so won over by the kindness and noble sejf- devotion of his brave little master, that he made up his mind to mend his ways from that very moment ; and in a short time, from having been the worst, became the best behaved neo-rolino; to be found on either side of the Rappahannock, for more than a hundred miles up and down." "What is a negroling?" inquired Master Charlie, as if bent on sifting this matter to the very bottom. " A negroling," replied Uncle Juvinell with a smile, " is to a full-grown negro what a gosling is to a full-grown goose. Now, can you tell me what it is?" " A gosling negro, I suppose," w^as Charlie's an- SAA^er ; and then he asked, " Did old Hobby go on teaching school after little George left liim?" IMrORTANT EXPLANATIONS. 99 " Of course he did," answered his uncle ; " but, you may depend upon it, he never took another scholar as far as the single rule of three." Then, winkino* slyly at two or three of the older children, he con- tinued : " This worthy schoolmaster lived to the good old age of ninety-nine ; when, feeling that his earthly pilgrimage was drawing to a close, he for the last time hung up his big cocked hat on the accustomed peg, and for the last time unscrewed his wooden leg, and set it in its accustomed corner ; then, hke a good Christian, laid him down to die in peace, giving thanks to Heaven with liis last breath that it had fallen to his lot to teach the ffreat Georsfe Washington his A B C's and the multiplication- table." This made Master Charlie look very grave and thoughtful, so that he asked no more questions for the rest of the night. Then Daniel, the young historian, who, having his mind occupied with more weighty matters, had been listening with some impatience wliile the above confab was going on, begged that his uncle would tell him what was meant by a midshipman's warrant. "In the first place, Dannie," said Uncle Juvinell, "for the benefit of the rest of the children, who are not so well informed upon such matters as yourself, we must see what a midshipman is. The lowest officer in the navy, but still several degrees removed from a common sailor, is a midshipman, who enters 100 THE FAEIVIER BOY. a man-of-war as a kind of pupil to study the art of navigation, and to acquaint himself with other mat- ters connected with the seafaring life. A man-of- war, you must know, is the largest vessel, or ship of war, belonging to a nation ; while all the ships fitted out at the public expense, together with tlie officers and seamen concerned in their keeping and management, make up what is called a navy. By navigation, we are to understand the art by which sailors are taught to conduct ships from one point to another. Now, a warrant is a writing that gives some one the right to do a thing or to enjoy it. Thus you see a midshipman's warrant would have given young Washington the right to go on board a man-of-war, where, as a kind of pupil, he would have learned the ai't of navigation, the management of ships, and many other things necessary to make a good sailor. The knowledge thus acquired, and the training to which he must needs have been subjected, would have fitted him in time to become an officer of the navy, such as a lieutenant or a captain, and, it may be, even an admiral." "And w^hat is an admiral? " Inquired Willie. "An admiral," replied Uncle Juvinell, "is the highest officer of the navy : he is to the armies of the sea what a general is to the armies of the land, and commands a squadron, or fleet, wliich, you must know, is a large number of armed ships, moving and acting in concert together." IMPORTANT EXPLANATIONS. 101 "Does he fight with a sword?" Inquired Bryce, who, it must be borne in mind, was the mihtary young p'entleman, who carried a wooden sword of his own. " It is unusual," rephed his uncle, " for either an admiral or a general to fight in person ; it being their duty to put their armies in order of battle, and after- wards, during the fight, to control the movements of the different regiments or divisions by orders carried by aides to the officers under their command." " You told us, uncle," said Willie, " that Wasliing- ton received, along with the commission of adjutant- general, the rank of major. Now, what are we to understand by this ? " " A commission," replied his uncle, " is a writing, giving some one the right or authority to perform the duties of some office, and receive the pay and honors arising from the same. The duties of an adjutant- general you have already seen ; and the commission received by young Washington to perform those duties made him equal in rank, not to a general, but to a major." "I know you told us, uncle," said Ella, "what is meant by surveying ; but I don't tliink that I clearly understand it yet." " I will refer you to your brother Dannie," said Uncle Juvinell ; " for he is looking very wise, as if somebody knew a thing or two, and could, were he but called upon, greatly enlighten somebody else. Out with it, Dannie, and let us have it." 102 THE FARMER BOY. "Surveying teaches the measurement of land," Dannie made haste to answer ; " and a surveyor is one who measures land with the help of a long chain and compass and other instruments. Now, George Washington, for example" — " That will do, Daniel," said his uncle, interrupt- ing him : " you have made it as clear as daylight already ; and I dare say your sister understands you perfectly, w^ithout the help of any example." " Oh, I like to have forgotten one thing ! " cried WiUie. "Tell us what is meant by line of march, manoeuvres on the battle-field, tlu'owing up intrencli- ments, and the like." To these points, Uncle Juvinell made answer : "An army, my nephew, is said to be on the line of march when it is moving from one place to another. A manoeuvre is an evolution or a movement of an army, designed to mislead or deceive an enemy, or in some way to gain the advantage of him. An intrench- merit is a breastwork or wall, with a trench or ditch running along the outside. The breastwork, being formed of the earth thrown up from the trench, serves as a protection against the shots of an enemy. The trench being quite as deep as tHe breastwork is high, renders it very difficult and dangerous for the works to be taken by storm ; for the enemy must first descend into the ditch before he can reach and scale the wall, — an attempt always attended with the great- est peril to those who make it ; for they who defend IMPORTANT EXPLANATIONS. 103 the works, fighting on top of the walls, have greatly the advantage of those beneath. Sometimes intrench- ments run in straight or crooked hnes, and sometimes enclose an irregular square or circle ; and any piece of ground, or body of men, thus enclosed or fortified, is said to be intrenched." " What a pity it is we can never know the name of the Lowland Beauty ! " remarked Miss Laura regret- fully ; for she was getting to be quite old enough to be somewhat interested in matters of this kind. " The name the young surveyor gave her," said Uncle Juvinell, " lends an interest to this part of his life, which a knowledge of her true name might never have awakened. Besides tliis, my dear niece, if you but be attentive to what I shall relate hereafter, you will learn many things touching the life and character of his mother Mary and his wife Martha far more worthy of your remembrance." The clock struck ten ; the fire burned low, and a heavy lid of ashes hid its great red eye. And sow Uncle Juvinell bethought him that it must indeed be high bed-time for the little folks ; and in conclusion he said, " Now, my dear children, I want you to bear well in mind what I have told you to-night, that you may be the better prepared for what I shall tell you to-morrow evening. And hereafter I woidd have you write down on your slates, while I go on with my story, whatever you may find difficult and shall wish to have more fully explained at the end of each 104 THE FARMER BOY. evenino:'s lesson. And now let us sins: our evenini; hymn, and part for tlie night." With that they joined their voices, as was then' wont, in a sweet hymn of praise and thanks to the great Father of us all, — tlie little folks carrymg the treble, while Uncle Juvinell managed the bass. This duly done, they came one by one, and kissed their dear old uncle a lo^ing good-night ; then crept to theu' happy l^eds to dream till morning of wooden- legged schoolmasters, little hatchets, wild rides on fiery untamed horses that were always sorrel, of life in the lonely wilderness, rambles without end up and down the mountains, and of skin-clad Indians leaping and wliirling in the war-dance. IX, IXDIAN" TROUBLES. AyD now. -'did I'ljc]*"' Juvinell, I .^ee you are all agog, .-lutf '.n>(] ]n-hc-':] in hand, ready to jot d'•^^■Ii auv cjije-ti' mj tij.m j;,;r.- ':]j;i uce tO pop into your bu-y young brains, to l^e asked and answered, for our further enliirhtennient, at tlj' 'f our even- ing le.s.son. So. ^vitliout more ado. we will begin. Jjut. before trudfrinj^ on further in our dL-li^htful journey, we must pau.-^e a rnument. and turning square round, with our faee.s towards tjie lung-ago years of the pa.-t, take a bird's-eye view of the early history of our country, that we may know exactly where we are when we eonie to find our.-eh'es in the outskirts of that long and bb^ody strug2'le be- tween the two great nations of England and France, commonly called the Seven Years' AVar. and some- times the Old French AVar. Xow, although this would not be as entertaining to your li\ely fancies as an Arabian tale or an Indian legend, yet you will by and by see very plainly that we coidd not have skipped it, without losing the sense of a great deal that follows ; for it was dining this war that 6* (105] 106 THE FAEMER BOY. our Washington first experienced the trials and hard- ships of a soldier's life, and displayed that courage, prudence, and ability, which in the end proved the salvation and glory of his native country. In the first place, you must know, my dear chil- dren, that this beautiful land of ours, where now dwell the freest and happiest people the blessed sun ever shone upon, was, only a few hundred years ago, all a vast unbroken wilderness ; a place where no one but savao^e Indians found a home, whose chief amusement was to fight and kill and scalp each other ; and whose chief occupation was to hunt wild beasts and birds, upon whose flesh they fed, and with whose hairy skins and horns and claws and feathers they clothed and decked themselves. Where in the leafy summer-time may now be heard the merry plough-boy whistling " Yankee Doodle " over the waving corn, the wild Indian once wrestled with the surly bear, or met his ancient enemy in deadly fight. Nibbling sheep and grazing cattle now range the grassy hills and valleys where he was wont to give chase to the timid deer, or lie in wait for the mon- strous buffalo. Huge steamers ply up and down our mighty rivers where he once paddled his little canoe. Splendid cities have risen, as if at the rubbing of Aladdin's enchanted lamp, where in the depths of the forest he once kindled the great council-fire, and met the neiohborino- tribes in the Bio- Talk. The very schoolhouse, where you little folks are INDIAN TROUBLES. 107 now tripping so lightly along the flowery path of knowledge, may perhaps stand on the selfsame shady slope, where, of a long summer evening, he would sit at the door of his bark-built wigwam, smoking his long pipe, and watching his naked red children with a more fatherly smile than you can well imagine in one so fierce, as with many a hoop and yelp they played at " hide-and-seek " among the gray old trees and pawpaw thickets. On yonder hill-top, where we at this moment can see the win- dows of the house of God shining and glancing in the moonlight, he may have stood, with his face to the rising or setting sun, in mute worship before the Great Spirit. But the stronger and wiser white man came ; and, at his terrible approach, the red man, with all his wild remembrances, passed away, like an echo in the woods, or the shadow of an April cloud over the hills and valleys ; and the place that once knew him shall know him no more for ever. And yet it might have been far otherwise with him and with us, had not a certain Christopher Columbus chanced to light upon this Western World of ours, as he came hap-hazard across the wide Atlantic, where ship had never sailed before, in quest of a shorter passage to Asia. By this great discovery, it was proved to the entire satisfaction of all who are in the least interested in the matter, that this earth upon which we live, 108 THE FARMER BOY. insteid of being long and flat, with sides and ends and corners like a great rough slab, was round, and hollow inside, like an India-rubber ball, and went rolling through empty space, round and round the sun, year after year, continually. Of this bold and skilful sailor, the most renowned that ever lived, I should like to tell you many tilings ; but, as we set out to give our chief attention to the story of Washington, we must deny ourselves this pleasure until the holidays of some merry Christmas yet to come, when your Uncle Juvinell, if he still keeps his memory fresh and green, will relate to you many wonderful things in the hfe of this great voyager, Columbus. Up to this time, all the nations of Christendom had for ages upon ages been sunk in a lazy doze of ignorance and superstition. But, when tidings of the great discovery reached their drowsy ears, they were roused in a marvellous manner ; and many of the richest and most powerful forthwith determined to secure, each to itself, a portion of the new-found region, by planting colonies ; or, in other words, by making settlements therein. For this purpose, they sent out fleets of ships across the Atlantic to these distant shores, laden with multitudes of men, who brought with them all manner of tools and implements wherewith to clear away the forests, till the soil, and build forts and cities, and arms to defend themselves against the INDIAN TROUBLES. 109 attacks of the warlike savages. Thus, for example, Spain colonized Mexico ; France, Canada ; and Eng- land, that strip of the North- American continent, lying between the Alleghany Mountains and the At- lantic Ocean, now known as the eastern coast of the United States. « At first, the new-comers were received and treated with much kindness and hospitality by the natives : but it was not long before they discovered that they were likely to be robbed of their homes and hunting- grounds ; when rage and jealousy took possession of their hearts, and from that time forward they never let slip an opportunity of doing all the mischief in their power to the hated intruders. Then began that long train of bloody wars between the two races, which have never ceased except with defeat or ruin of the weaker red man, and bringing him nearer and nearer to the day when he must either forsake his savage life, or cease to have an existence alto- gether. Now, this may appear very unjust and wrong to my little friends ; and, to some extent, it really was: but, in those days, might made right; or, in other words, the strong ruled the weak. And yet we are bound to believe that all this, in the long-run, has worked, and is still working, to the greatest good of the greatest number : for, had it been othen\'ise, all this beautiful land, now the home of a Christian and happy people, would have remained the dismal 110 THE FAEMER BOY. wilderness we have described it ; answering no good end, as far as concerns the spread of truth and knowledo'e, and the cukivation of those useful arts which make a nation prosperous in peace, and strong in war. Notwithsttftiding their troubles with the Indians, the hardships and privations to which the first settlers of a wild country are always exposed, and the shame- ful neglect with which they were treated by the mother-countries, the French and English colonies went on growing and thriving in a way that was wonderful to behold. At the end of a hundred and fifty years, or thereabouts, they had so grown in strength and increased in numbers, and had so widened their boundaries, that at last the continent, vast as it is, seemed too narrow to hold them both ; and they began throwing up their elbows for more room, in a manner that would have been thought quite uncivil in a private individual at a dinner table or in a stage-coach. Whereupon there arose a hot dispute between the kings of France and England as to whom belonged all that immense reo-ion stretchins^ from the Allci^rha- nies to the Mississippi, in the one direction ; and, in the other, from the Ohio to the Great Lakes of the North. The French claimed it by the right of discovery : by which they meant, that a certain Father Mar- quette had, nearly a hundi^ed years before, discovered india:n^ troubles. m the Mississippi during his wanderings as a mission- ary among the Indians of the Far West. They pre- tended, that, as this pious man had paddled a little canoe up and down this splendid river a few hundred miles, his royal master, the King of France, was thereby entitled to all the lands watered by It, and the ten thousand streams that empty into it. The English, on the other hand, claimed it by the light of purchase ; having, as they said, bought It at a fair price of the Six Nations, a powerful league or union of several Indian tribes inhabiting the region round about the great lakes Erie and Ontario. What right the Six Nations had to It, is impossible to say. They claimed It, however, by the doubtful right of conquest; there being a tradition among them, that their ancestors, many generations before, had overrun the country, and subdued Its Inhabit- ants. Now, the poor Indians who occupied the land in question were very Indignant indeed when they heard that they and theirs had been sold to the white strangers by their red enemies, the Six Nations, whom they regarded as a flock of meddlesome crows, that were always dipping their ravenous bills Into matters that 'did not In the least concern them ; and their simple heads were sorely perplexed and puzzled, that two great kings, dwelling In far-distant coun- tries, thousands of miles away beyond the mighty ocean, should, in the midst of uncounted riches, fall 112 THE FARMER BOY. to wrano-llnof with each other over a bit of wilderness land that neither of them had ever set eyes or foot on, and to which they had no more right than the Grand Caliph of Bagdad, or that terrible Tartar, Ivublah Khan. " Of all this land," said they, " there is not the black of a man's thumb-nail- that the Six Nations can call their own. It is om^s. More than a thousand moons before the pale-face came over the Big Water in his white-winged canoes, the Great Spirit gave it to our forefathers ; and they handed it down, to be our inheritance as long as the old hills tell of their green graves. In its streams have we fished, in its woods have we hunted, in its sunny places have we built our wigwams, and in its dark and secret places have we fought and scalped and burnt our sworn enemies, without let or hinderance, time out of mind. Xow, if the English claim all on this side of the Ohio, and the French claim all on this side of the Big Lakes, then what they claim is one and the same coun- try, — the country whereon we dwell. Surely our white brothers must be dreaming. It is our hearts' desire, that our brothers, the English, keep on their side of the Ohio, and till the ground, and grow rich in corn ; also that our brothers, the French, keep on their side of the lakes, and hunt in the woods, and grow rich in skins and furs. But you must both quit pressing upon us, lest our ribs be squeezed in and our breath be squeezed out, and we cease to INDIAJ^ TROUBLES. 113 have a place among men. We hold you both at arm's-length ; and whoever pays good heed to the words we have spoken, by him will we stand, and with him make common cause against the other." But to these just complaints of the poor Indian the French and English gave no more heed than if they who uttered them "were so many whip-poor- wills crying in the woods. So they fell to wrang- ling in a more unreasonable manner than ever. Finally, to mend the matter (that is to say, make things worse), the French, coming up the Mississippi from the South, and down from the Great Lakes of the North, began erecting a chain of forts upon the disputed territory, to overawe the inhabitants thereof, and force the English to keep witliin the AUeghanies and the Atlantic. As a matter of course, the Eng- lish regarded this as an insult to their dignity, and resolved to chastise the French for their impudence. And this it was that brought about that long and bloody struggle, the Old French War. Thus, my dear children, do great and wise nations, professing to follow the humane teachings of the man-loving. God-fearing Jesus, often show no more truth and justice and honesty in their dea]jngs with one another than if they were as ignorant of the Ten Commandments as the most benisfhted heathens, to whom even the name of Moses was never spoken. Yet, from your looks, I see that you are wondering witliin yourselves what all this rig- 114 THE FARRIER BOY. iiiarole about England, France, the Six Nations, and disputed territories, can have to do with George AVashington. Had you -held a tight rein on your impatience a little while longer, you would have found out all about it, without the inconvenience of wondering; and hereafter, my little folks, rest as- sured that your Uncle Juvinell never ventures upon any thing without having all his eyes and wits about him, and that what he may tell you shall always prove instructive, although it may now and then — with no fault of his, however — seem to you some- what dry and tedious. X. "big talk" with "white thunder." BUT we are a little fast. In order to bring our- selves square again with our story, we must take one step backward, and begin afresh. When tidings of these trespasses of the French reached the ears of Robert Dinwiddie, then Gov- ernor of Vhginia, all his Scotch blood boiled within him, and he began forthwith casting in his mind what might be done to check or chastise such audacious pro- ceedings. Cooling down a little, however, he thought it would be better, before throwing his stones, to try what virtue might be found in grass. By which you are to understand, that he determined to write a letter to the French general, then stationed in a little fort near Lake Erie, inquiring by what authority these encroachments were made on the dominions of his royal master, the Eang of England ; and demanding that they, the French, should abandon then* forts, and withdraw their troops from the disputed territory, without delay, or else abide the consequences. He was well aware, that, to insure any tiling like success [115] 116 THE FARMER BOY. in a mission so difficult and perilous, the person In- trusted with it must needs be robust of body, stout of heart, clear of head ; one inured to the hardships of a backwoods Hfe, well acquainted with the habits and customs of the Indians, and withal a man of intelligence, polite address, and the strictest integrity of character. But one such man was to be found among ten thousand ; and this was George Wash- ington, who answered to the description in every particular, and was therefore chosen to perform tliis perilous undertaking, although he had not yet coin- pleted liis twenty-second year. Accordingly, having received from Governor DInr widdie written instructions how to act when come into the enemy's country. Major Washington set out the next morning from Williamsburg, then the capital 9f Yirginia, and made his way at once to Winchester, at that time a frontier settlement of the pro\ance, lying on the very edge of the wilderness. Here he spent several days in procuring supplies for tlie expedition, and raising a small party of hunters and pioneers to guard and bear him company. After some delay, he succeeded In procuring the services of seven men. Four of these were hardy backwoods- men of experience, whose business it was to take care of the baggage and keep the party supplied with game. Mr. Davidson was to go along as Indian interpreter, and Mr. Gist as guide. A bolder and more enterprising pioneer than tliis Gist, by the by, "big T.ii.K" WITH "avhite thunder." 117 was not to be found in all the Western wilds ; and he is supposed by some historians to have been the first white man that ever brought down an elk or a buffalo in that paradise of hunters, green Kentucky. In addition to these, Washington took with him as French interpreter his old Dutch fencing-master, Capt. Van Braam. The worthy captain, however, seems to have been a far more expert master of sword-play than of the languages ; for the jargon he. was pleased to call an interpretation was often such a medley of half-learned English, half-remem- bered French, and half-forgotten Dutch, that they who listened would be nearly as much perplexed to see what he would be driving at, as if he were sput- tering Cherokee into their ears. All things being at last in readiness, the gallant little party, headed by our young Virginian, turned their faces towards the great Xorth-west ; and, plun- ging into the wilderness, were soon beyond all traces of civilized man. The autumn was far advanced. The travellino^ was rendered toilsome, and even dan- gerous, by the heavy rains of this season, and early snows that had already fallen on the mountains, which had changed the little rills into rushing tor- rents, and the low bottom-lands into deep and miry swamps. Much delayed by these and the like hin- derances, Wasliington, upon reaching the banks of the Mononofahela, deemed it best to send two of the backwoodsmen with the baggage in canoes down 118 THE FAEMER BOY. tills rn er to its mouth, where, uniting its waters with those of the Alleghany, it helped to form the great Oliio. Promising to meet them at this point, he and the rest of the party pushed tliitherward by land on horseback. Reacliing the Forks of the Ohio two days before the canoe-men, he spent the time in exploring the woods and hills and streams around, and was much struck with the advantages the place held out as a site for a military post. This, to- gether with other items meriting attention that happened to him or occurred to his mind during the expedition, he carefully noted down in a journal which he kept, to be laid, in the form of a report, before Gov. Dinwiddie, upon his return. The fol- lowing year, as a convincing proof to his countrymen how entirely they might rely on his foresight and judgment in such matters, French officers of skill and experience chose this very spot to be the site of Fort Duquesne, afterwards so famous in the bor- der history of our country. Near the close of the war, this post fell into the hands of the English, who changed its name to that of Fort Pitt ; which in time gave rise to the busy, thriving, noisy, dingy, fine young town of Pittsburg, a smoky-looking pic- ture of which you may see any time you choose to consult your geography. Instead of pushing on dh'ectly to the Lakes, Major Washington turned a little aside from his course, and went down the Oliio about twenty miles, to an BIG TALK AVITH WHITE THUNDER." 119 Indian village called Logstown. Here, as had been previously arranged, he met a few sachems or chiefs of some of the Western tribes, to kindle a council- fire and have a Big Talk. He was received with much hospitality and courtesy by a stately old chief, whose Indian name you would not care to hear, as it would give Master Charlie's nut-crackers the jaw- ache to pronounce it. Among the English, however, as he was the head of a league or union of several tribes, he usually went by the name of the Half King. After the pipe had passed with all due gravi- ty from mouth to mouth, and every warrior, chief, and white man present had taken a whifF or two, in sign that all was good- will and peace between them, Washington arose, and addressed the Half Ejing in a short speech, somewhat after the following manner : — " Your brother, the Governor of Yirginia, has sent me with a letter to the big French captain, near Lake Erie. What is written therein deeply concerns you and your people as well as us. It was his desire, therefore, that you share with us the toils and dan- gers of this expedition, by sending some of your young men along with us, to guide us through the wildernesss where there Is no path, and be our safe- guard against the wiles of cunning and evil-minded men we may chance to meet by the way. This he will look upon as a still further proof of the love and friendship you bear your brothers, the English. 120 . THE FAKMER BOY. As a pledge of his faith in all this, and as a token of liis love for his red brother, he sends this belt of wampum." Mr. Davidson having interpreted this speech, the Half Kins: for some moments after sat smokino- in profound silence, as if turning over in liis mind what he had just heard, or as if waiting, according to Indian notions of etiquette on such occasions, to as- sure himself that the speaker had made an end of his say. He then arose, and spoke to the following eiFect : — "I have heard the words of my young white brother, and they are true. I have heard the request of my brother the Governor of Virginia, and it is reasonable. At present, however, my young men are abroad in the forest, hunting game to provide against the wants of the coming winter, that our wives and children starve not when we are out upon the war- path. At the third setting of the sun from this time, they will be coming in ; when I will not only send some of them with my young white brother, but will myself bear him company. For he must know that we have ceased to look upon the French as our friends. They have trespassed upon our soil ; they have spoken words of insult and mockery to our oldest sachems. For this cause have my people resolved to return them the speech-belt they gave us at the Big Talk we had last winter at Montreal. It is that I may defy the big French captain to "big talk" ayith "white thunder." 121 his teeth, and fling his speech-belt in his face, that I now go with mj young brother, the Lono- Knife." * On the third day, as had been promised, the youno- men came in from hunting ; from among whom the Half King chose eight or ten to serve as an addi- tional escort to Major Washington during the expedition. Among these was a warrior of great distinction, who went by the tremendous name of White Thunder, and was keeper of the speech-belt. ;N"ow, you must know, that in Indian politics, when two tribes exchange speech-belts, it is understood to be an expression of peace and good-will between them ; while to return or throw them away is the same as a declaration of war, or at least to be taken as a hint that all friendly intercourse between them is at an end. The " keeper of the speech-belt " was, therefore, a kind of " secretary of state " among these simple people. Thus re-enforced by his red allies, Washington, who had grown somewhat impatient under this delay, gladly turned his face once more towards the Great Lakes. All this time, the rain had continued to fall with scarcely an hour's intermission. The streams and low meadow-lands were so flooded in consequence, that they were often obliged to wander many a weary mile over rugged highlands and through tangled forests, without finding themselves any nearer their journey's end. Now and then, coming to some 6 122 THE F.\EMER BOV. muddy, swollen stream, in order to gain the opposite side without getting their baggage wet, they must needs cross over on rafts rudely constructed of logs and grape-vines, and make their horses swim along behind them. It was near the middle of December, before the little party, jaded and travel-stained, reached their destination. Major Washington was received with true soldierly courtesy by the French general, to whom he at once delivered Gov. Dinwiddie's letter. A few days be- ing requested for a due consideration of its contents, as well as the answer to be returned, he spent the time, as he had been instructed, in gaining all the in- formation he could, without exciting suspicion, touch- ing the designs of the French in the North-west, — to what extent they had won over the several Indian tribes to their interest ; the number of troops they had brought into the territory ; and the number, strength, and situation of the forts they had built. The fort where the French general then had his head- quarters stood on the banks of a little river called French Creek, in which Washington observed lying, and bade his men count, a large number of canoes, to be used early in the following spring for transporting men and military stores down the Ohio. All the hints and items thus gathered he carefully noted down in his journal, to be laid, as I have told you already, in the form of a report, before Gov. Dinwiddie, iqjon his return. 'big TAI.K" WITH "white THUNDER." 123 Being wary and watchful, he was not long in dis- covering that the French were tampering with his Indian allies ; tempting them, by the gayest of pre- sents, the fairest of promises, and the hottest of fire- water, to break faith with the English, and join their cause. These underhand dealings gave Washington much uneasiness of mind ; and he complained to the French general, yet in a firm and dignified manner, of the unfair advantao:e thus taken of the besettins: weakness of these poor people. Of course, the wily old Frenchman denied all knowledge of the matter ; although we are bound to believe, that, as these tricks and intrigues were going on under his very nose, he must certainly have winked at, if he did not openly encourage them. It is true that the Indians were by no means too nice to eniich themselves with French presents, and get drunk on French whiskey ; yet, for all that, they tm-ned a deaf ear to French promises, and, keeping their faith unbroken, remained as true as hickory to their friends the Enghsh. Even the Half King, stately and commanding as he was in council, yielded to the pleasing temptation along with the rest ; and, for the greater part of the time, lay beastly drunk about the fort. ^^Tien at last he came to his sober senses, he was not a little chopfallen upon being somewhat sternly reminded by Major Washington of the business that had brought him thither, the recol- lection of wliich he had seemingly drowned in his 124 THE FARMEK BOY. enemy's whiskey. Whereupon, as if to show that all his threats and promises had been made In good faith, he went forthwith to the French general, and delivered the grave oration he had composed for the occasion ; at the same time returning the speech-belt White Thunder had brought, as a sign that all friendly relations between the French and his peo- ple were at an end. At last, having received the answer to Gov. Din- widdie's letter, and looked into matters and things about Mm as far as he could with prudence. Major Washington was now anxious to be away from the place where he had already been detained too long. During his stay, however, he had been treated with the greatest respect and courtesy by the accomplished Frenchman, who presented him, upon his departure, with a large canoe, laden with a liberal supply of liquors and provisions, that lasted him and liis men until they reached the Ohio. To spare the horses as much as possible, Wash- ington had sent them, w^ith two or three of the men, by land to Venango, a fort about fifteen miles below ; whither he now set out to follow them by water. The navigation of this little river, owing to its shal- lows and the masses of floating ice that here and there blocked up its channel, was dilBScult and toil- some in the extreme. Oftentimes, to prevent their frail canoes from being dashed to pieces against the rocks, would they be compelled to get out into the „ j> ,„^^^^ r? "BIG TALK" WITH ' A\TIITE THimDER." 125 cold water for half an hour at a time, and guide them ^ath their hands down the whnling and rapid current, and now and then even to carry them and their loads by land around some foaming cataract to the smoother water below. After an u'ksome little voyage, they reached Venango, fully satisfied that to go further by water was quite out of the ques- tion. XI. CHRISTMAS IN THE WILDERNESS. HERE, at Yenango, Major Washington, much to his regret, was compelled to part company with the Half King and his other red allies. White Thunder, keeper of the speech-belt, had been so seriously injured in their passage down, as to be, for the present, quite unable to travel ; and the rest would not think of leaving him, but needs must tarry there until then' friend should be well enough to be brought in a canoe down the Alleghany. Remounting their horses, our little party once more took their weary way through the wilderness. It was now the 2 2d of December. The weather was bitter cold ; the snow fell thick and fast, and froze as it fell ; and the bleak winds moaned drearily among the naked trees. The forest streams were frozen from bank to bank, yet often too thin to bear the weight of the horses ; which rendered their crossing painful and hazardous indeed. To add to the discomfort of our travellers, the horses, from poor and scanty fare, had become too weak to be [126] CHRISTMAS IN THE WILDERNESS. 127 able longer to caiTy their allotted burdens. Moved with compassion at their pitiable plight, Washino-- ton dismounted from his fine saddle-horse, and loaded his with a part of the baggage; choosino- rather to toil along on foot, than to take his ease at the expense of pain even to these poor brutes. His humane example was' promptly followed by the rest of the party ; and only the two men kept the saddle to whom was intrusted the care of the bao-- gage. You can well imagine, that a Christmas spent in this wild waste of leafless woods and snowy hills was any thing but a merry one to these poor fellows, so far away from their homes, which, at that moment, they knew to be so bright and cheerful with the mirth and laughter of " old men and babes, and loving friends, and youths, and maidens gay." And yet I dare say, that, even there, they greeted each other on that blessed morning with a brighter smile than usual, and called to their remembrance, that on that morn a babe was born, who, in the fulness of years, has grown to be the light and love and glory of the earth. Seeing that the half-famished beasts were growino- weaker and weaker day by day, and that he would be too long in reaching his journey's end if he governed his speed by theirs, Washington left Capt. van Braam in command of the party, and pushed forward with no other company than Mr. Gist. 128 THE F^VRMER BOY. Armed with their trusty rifles, and clad in the light dress of the Indians, with no extra covering for the night but their watch-coats, and with no other bag- gage but a small portmanteau containing their food and Major Washington's important papers, they now made rapid headway, and soon left their friends far behind. The next day, they came upon an Indian village called ]\Iurdering Town ; a name of evil omen, given it, perhaps, from its having been the scene of some bloody Indian massacre. What befell them here, I will tell you, as nearly as I can remember, in ]Mr. Gist's own words : — " We rose early in the morning, and set out at seven o'clock, and got to Murdering Town, on the south-east foi*k of Beaver Creek. Here we met with an Indian whom I thought I had seen at Joncaire's, at Venango, when on our journey up to the French fort. This fellow called me by my Indian name, and pretended to be glad to see me. He asked us several questions ; as, how we came to travel on foot, when we left Venango, where we parted with our horses, and when they would be there. Major Washington insisted on travelling by the nearest way to the forks of the Alleghany. We asked the Indian if he could go with us, and show us the nearest way. The Indian seemed very glad and ready to go with us ; upon which we set out, and the Indian took the Major's pack. We travelled very brisk for eight or ten miles ; when the Major's feet grew sore, and he very weary, and the Indian steered too much north-eastwardly. The Major desired to encamp ; upon which the Indian asked to carry his gun, CHPJSTJIAS IN THE WILDERNESS. 129 but he refused ; and then the Indian grew churlish, and pressed us to keep on, telling us there ^Yere Ottawa Lidians in those woods, and they would scalp us if we lay out ; but go to his cabin, and we would be safe. " I thought very ill of the fellow, but did not care to let the Major know I mistrusted him. But he soon mistrusted him as much as I did. The Indian said he could hear a gun from his cabin, and steered us northwardly. We grew uneasy, and then he said two whoops might be heard from his cabin. We went two miles further. Then the Major said he would stay at the next water, and we desired the Indian to stop at the next water ; but, before we came to the water, we came to a clear meadow. It was very light, and snow was on the ground. The Indian made a stop, and turned about. The Major saw him point his gun towards us, and he fired. Said the Major, — " * Are you shot ? ' " ' No,' said I. " Upon which the Indian ran forward to a big standing white oak, and began loading his gun ; but we were soon with him. I would have killed him ; but the Major would not suffer me. We let him charge his gun. We found he put in a ball : then we took care of him. Either the Major or I always stood by the guns. We made him make a fire for us by a little run, as if we intended to sleep there. I said to the Major, — " ' As you will not have him killed, we must get him away, and then we must travel all night.' " Upon which I said to the Indian, — " ' I suppose you were lost, and fired your gun ? ' " He said he knew the way to his cabin : it was but a little distance. 130 THE FAEMEE BOY. " ' Well,' said I, ' do you go home, and, as we are tired, we will follow your track in the morning ; and here is a cake of bread for you, and you must give us meat in the morning. " He was glad to get away. I followed him, and listened until he was fairly out of the way; and then we w^ent about half a mile, when we made a fire, set our compass, fixed our course, and travelled all night. In the morn- ing, we were on the head of Piny Creek." Thus you see, my dear cliildren, from this adven- ture, upon what slight accidents sometimes hang the destinies, not only of individuals, but even of great nations ; for had not this treacherous Indian missed his aim, and that too, in all likelihood, for the first time in a twelvemonth, it had never been our blessed privilege to know and love and reverence such a man as Washington ; and that, instead of being the free-born, independent people that he made us, we might have been at this very moment throw ing up our hats and wasting our precious breath in shouts of " Long life to Queen Victoria ! " All that day they walked on, w^eary and foot-sore, through the deep snow, without a trace of living man to enliven their solitary w^ay. The cold gray of a winter's evening was deepening the shadows of the forest when they came to the banks of the Alleghany ; and here a new^ disappointment awaited them. They had all along cheered themselves wath the prospect of crossing this river on the ice : but they found it -f CHRIST3IAS IN THE WILDERNESS. 131 frozen for about fifty yards only from either bank ; while the rest of the ice, broken into huge cakes, went floating swiftly down the main channel, crush- ing and grinding together, and filling the hollow woods around with dolefid noises. With heavy hearts they kindled their camp-fire, and cooked and ate their frugal supper ; then, making themselves as comfortable as the piercing- winds would allow, they lay down on their snowy beds to sleep, hopeful that the morrow would bring them better luck. Morning dawned, and yet brought with it no brighter prospect. Would you know what they did in this grievous state ? Listen while I read Major Washington's own account of it, as we find it written in his journal : — « " There was no way for getting over but on a raft ; which we set about, with but one poor hatchet, and finished just after sun-setting. This was a whole day's work. We next got it launched ; then went on board of it, and set off. But, before we were half way over, we were jammed in the ice, in such a manner that we expected every moment our raft to sink, and ourselves to perish. I put out my settino-- pole to try and stop the raft, that the ice might pass by ; when the rapidity of the stream threw it with so much vio- lence against the pole, that it jerked me out into ten feet of water : but I fortunately saved myself by catching hold of one of the raft-logs. Notwithstanding all our efforts, we could not get to either shore, but were obhged, as we were near an island, to quit our raft, and make to it. The cold 132 THE FARMER BOY. was so extremely severe, that Mr. Gist had all his fingers, and some of his toes, frozen ; and the water was shut up so hard, that we found no difficulty in getting off the island, on the ice, in the morning, and went to Mr. Frazier's." Here, for a space, they stopped to rest and refresh themselves after the fatigue and exposure they had just undergone ; and here, among other items of interest, they heard that Queen Aliquippa, an Indian princess, had been deeply offended that the young Long Knife had passed by her royal shanty, the month before, without calling to pay his compliments. Major Washington, well knowing that to humor their peculiar whims and fancies was the best mode of securing the good-w^ill and friendship of these people, hastened at once to present liimself before her copper majesty, and make w^hat amends he could for his breach of etiquette. The present of a bottle of rum (over w^hich, queen that she was, she smacked her lips), and of his old watch-coat, that w^ould so hand- somely set off her buckskin leggins, softened her ire completely, and made her, from that time forward, the stanch friend and ally of the English. Travelling on a few miles further, they came to Mr. Gist's house, on the banks of the Monongahela, where Washins^ton bou2:ht a horse to bear him to his journey's end, and parted w^ith his trusty guide. He was now entirely alone ; and a wide stretch of woods and mountains, swamps and frozen streams, still lay between him and the cheerful homes to CHEISTIilAS m THE ^VILDERNESS. 133 whose comforts he had been so lono: a strano-er. Now and then, the loneliness of the way would be for a moment enlivened by the sight of some sturdy backwoodsman, axe or rifle on shoulder, pushino- westward, with his wife and children and doos and household trumpery, to find a home in some still more distant part of the wilderness. It was mid- winter, when, after having been absent eleven weeks on his perilous mission, our young Virginian, looking more like a wild Indian than the civil and Christian gentleman that he really was, rode into the town of Williamsburg, nor halted until he had alighted and hitched his horse in front of the o-overnor's house. XII. Washington's first battle. UPON Ills arrival, Major AYaslilngi:on hastened at once to lay before Gov. Dinwiddie, and the Virginia Legislature then in session, the French gene- ral's letter, and the journal he had kept during the expedition. In his letter, the French general spoke in high and flattering terms of the character and talents of young Washino;ton ; but, in Ian2:ua2:e most decided and unmistakable, refused to withdraw his troops from the disputed territory, or cease building forts therein, as had been demanded of him, unless so ordered by his royal master, the King of France, to whose wishes only he owed respect and obedience. From the tenor of tliis letter, it was plainly enough to be seen (what might, in fact, have been seen before) , that the French were not in the least inclined to give up, at the mere asking, all that they had been at so much pains and expense at gaining. It therefore followed, that as the title to this bit of forest land could not be written with the pen, on fair paper, in letters of Christian ink, it must needs be written with the [134] Washington's first battle. 135 sword, on the fair earth, in letters of Christian blood. By this, the little folks are to understand their Uncle Juvinell to mean that war alone could settle the question between them. And this unreasonable behavior, on the part of two great nations, has already, I doubt not, brought to your minds the story of two huge giants, who, chancing to meet one night, fell into a long and stormy dispute with each other about the possession of a fair bit of meadow-land they had happened to spy out at the same moment, where it lay in the lower horn of the moon ; and who finally, like the silly monsters that they were, began belaboring each other with their heavy malls, as if the last hope of beating a little reason in were to beat a few brains out. To drive and keep back the French and their In- dian allies. Gov. Dinwiddie made a call on the Vir- ginia militia, and wrote to the governors of some of the neighboring provinces, urging them, for their common defence, to do the same. To strengthen their borders, and give security to their frontier set- tlers, a small party of pioneers and carpenters were sent to build a fort at the Forks of the Ohio, as Washington had recommended in his journal. This journal, by the way, throwing, as it did, so much new light on the designs of the French in America, was thought worthy of publication, not only through- out the Colonies, but also in the mother-country. The good sense, skill, address, and courage shown 136 THE FARMER BOY. by the young Virginian throughout the late expedi- tion, had drawn upon him the eyes of his country- men ; and, from that time forward, he became the hope and promise of his native land. As a proof of this high regard, he was offered the command of the regiment to be raised : which, however, he refused to accept ; for his modesty told him that he was too young and inexperienced to be intrusted with a matter of such moment to his country. To Col. Fry, an officer of some note in the province, the command of the regiment was therefore given ; under whom he was quite willing to accept the post of lieutenant- colonel. Notwithstanding the pressing danger that threat- ened all alike, the people were shamefully slow in answering the summons to arms. Washington had felt confident, that, at the very first tap of the drum, squads upon squads of active, sturdy, well-fed, well- clothed young farmers, moved by the same spirit with himself, would come flockins^ to his standard with their trusty rifles, powder-horns, and hunting- pouches, ready and eager to do their country service. Instead of this, however, there gathered about him a rabble of ragamuffins and worthless fellows, who had spent their lives in tramping up and down the country, without settled homes or occupations. Some were without hats and shoes ; some had coats, and no shirts ; some had shirts, and no coats ; and all were without arms, or any keen desire to use WASHINGTON'S FIRST BATTLE. 137 them if they had them. All this disgusted and dis- heartened our youthful colonel not a little ; for he was young, and had yet to learn that it is of just such stuff that the beginnings of armies are always made. The slender pay of a soldier was not enough to tempt the thriving yeomanry to leave their rich acres and snug firesides to undergo the hardships and dangers of a camp life ; as if, by failing to answer their country's call, and fighting in its defence, they were not running a still greater risk of losing all they had. To encourage the young men of the province to come forward, Gov. Dinwiddle caused it to be pro- claimed, that two hundred thousand acres of the very best land on the head-waters of the Ohio should be divided between those that should enlist and serve during the war. This splendid offer had, in some small measure, the effect desired ; so that, in a short time, something like an army was cobbled together, with which, poor and scantily provided as it was, they at last resolved to take the field. Col. Washington, in command of the main body, was ordered to go on in advance, and cut a military road through the wilderness, in the direction of the new fort at the Forks of the Ohio, by way of the Mo- nongahela; w^hile Col. Fry was to remain behind with the rest of the troops, to bring up the cannon and heavy stores when the road should be opened. When tlie pioneers had cut their way about twenty 138 THE FARMER BOY. miles beyoii(J the frontier toAvn of Winchester, there came a rumor, that the men who had been sent to build the fort at the Forks of the Ohio had all been surprised and captured by the French. In a few days, all doubts as to the truth of this report were set at rest by the men themselves, who came walking leisurely into camp, with their spades and axes on their shoulders, to every appearance quite well and comfortable. For several days, they said, they had been work- ing away on the fort quite merrily ; when, early one morning, they were much surprised to see one thou- sand Frenchmen, in sixty bateaux, or boats, and three hundred canoes, with six pieces of cannon, dropping quietly down the Alleghany. The leader of this gallant little force summoned the fort to surrender in the short space of an hour, or else they would find their unfinished timber-work tumblinsT about their heads in a way that would not be alto- gether agreeable. K'o one with even half his wits about him would have for a moment thou2:ht of defending an unfinished fort with axes, spades, and augers, against a force of twenty times their number, backed by cannon and grape-shot. These men had all their wits about them, and, to prove it, gave up the fort without further parley ; when the French captain marched in, and took formal possession of the wooden pen in the name of his most Christian majesty, the King of France; after which, with Washington's first battle. 139 that gayety and good-humor so often to be observed among the French people, he invited the young ensign — who, in the absence of the captain, had been left in the command of the fort for that day — to dine and drink a glass of wine with him. He then suffered them all to depart in peace with his good wishes, and with their spades, carpenter's tools, and axes on their shoulders. Col. Washington was deeply mortified at this intelligence ; but, like the manly man that he was, he put a bright face on the matter, and, to keep up the spirits of his men, resolved to push on with the road with more vigor than ever. And a tremendous undertaking this was, I assure you. The tallest of trees were to be felled, the hugest of rocks to be split and removed, the deepest of swamps to be filled, and the swiftest of mountain torrents bridged over. With such hinderances, you will not wonder that they made but four miles a day. Now and then, the soldiers would be obliged to put their shoulders to the wheel, and help the poor half-famished horses with their heavy wagons up some rough and rocky steep. Thus over the gloomy mountains, and down the rugged defiles, and through a dark and lonely valley since called the Shades of Death, they forced their toilsome way. At last, after many weary days, they reached the banks of the Youghiogeny, — a romantic little river that went tumbling down the green hills in many a foaming waterfall ; then, like 140 THE FARMER BOY. a frolicsome schoolboy nearing school, put on a demure and sober face, and quietly empted itself into the more tranquil Monongahela. Here, to give his worn-out men and horses some repose after their severe and unceasing labors, Washington ordered a halt. Being told by some friendly Indians that the bag- gage could be carried down this stream by water, he set out early one morning in a canoe, with four or ^ye white men, and an Indian for a guide, to see for himself what truth there might be in this report. When they had rowed about ten miles, their Indian guide, after sulking for a little while, laid his oar across the canoe, and refused to go further. At first, this behavior appeared to them a little queer ; but they were not long in discovering that it was only a way the cunning red rascal had of higgling to get more pay for his services. After some pretty sharp bargaining. Col. Washington promised to give him his old watch-coat and a ruffled shirt if he would go on ; upon which, Avithout more ado, he picked up his oar, and for the rest of the trip steered away blithely enough. You can well imagine what an uncommon swell this savage dandy, with his bare red legs, must have cut, a few days after, in his civilized finery, among the copper-cheeked belles of the woods. By the time they had rowed twenty miles further, Washington was satisfied, that, owing to the rocks and rapids, a passage down this river WAsiiiN(i'i'()N\s I'iK'sr I'.yni.K. Ml in (lie, hIijiIIow cjuioch of (Ik; IikIIjuih wjih mtxt to iiiipos.sihlc. Ivc-turiiin^ to cninp, Ik; hoom JiftorwJinls received word from IiIh old fVIctnd and ally, the Half* Klii^, tli.'it a ]).'ii-ty of r'lCMcli had l)e(;n H(;eii eoinlii;^ IVoiri tli(! (liicclloii of r'ort DiKjiicHiK;, who wc^re in all lik('lilioole peopW prize little compliments of tliis kind. ]\Iajor ]Muse handed out the presents, while Washington hung tlie medals about the neeks of the sachems, which yielded them far more delight, you will be soriy to hear, than their good old missionary's catechism. This was done with all that show and parade so dear to an Indian's heart ; and, to oive a still finer ed^'c to the present occasion, they christened each other all over again : that is to say, the red men gave the white men Indian names, and the Avhite men gave the red men English names. Thus, for example, AVashing- ton gave the Half King the name of Dinwiddle, which pleased him greatly; while he, in his turn, bestowed on his young white brother a long, high- sounding Indian name, that you coidd pronomice as readily spelt backwards as forwards, i Fairfax was the name given a young sachem, the sui of Queen Alicpiippa, whose eternal friendship to the English, it must be borne in mind, had been secured by Washington, the previous winter, by the present of an old coat and a bottle of rum. FORT NECE8HITY. 11 l\y llic, jh1vI<'(; of IiIh old juul irm(',li-(!Ht,oomo(l frlond, Col. WIlllMin F;urf';ix, VV;i.sliIii;^l,on li;ul (livin(; vvor- fililj) ill (Ik; fori, (JJiily, In wlilcli Ik; led; niid, tliardss to the (;!i,rly toac'hin^H of his pious inotlicr, Ik; could do lliis, ;uid sin not,. Soh^rrin indeed, my d(;ar eliildren, and hcantifnl to heliold, must li;i,v(; hccn that pi(5tijr(!, — that llttlo fort, ho i'nv Jivvay In the heart of the lonely wIld(;rn(;HH, with ItH motley thron;^ of f);ilnted IndluTis and leatli(;r-elad haekvvoodsm(;n gath(M*ed round their yonn<^ eommander, an, inornln;^ and cvcninf^, he kneeled in prayer before the Giver of all good, bcHeeehing aid and protection, and giving thank.s. Ah if to put IiIh manhood and patience to a fltill severer test, there came to the; fort about thin time an independ(;nt eom|)any of one liiindred North CarolinlanH, headed f)y one Capt. Mae.kay, wlio refused to serve under him as his sujxjrior officer. As his reason for this conduct, Mackay argued that he held a royal commission (that is to say, had Ixjen made a captain by the King of England) , whieli mjidc; him equal in rank, if not superior, to Washington, who held only a provincial commission, or had been made a coL nel by the Governor of Virginia. This, in part, was but too true ; and It had been a source of dissatisfaction to Washington, that the rank and services of colonial officers should be held at a cheaper rate than th(i Hnrne were valued at in tin; royal army. It wounded his honest, manly pride, 150 TIIE FARMER BOY. and offended his high sense of justice ; and he had ah'eady resolved in his own mind to quit such inglorious service, as soon as he could do so without injury to the present campaign, or loss of honor to himself. To most men, the lofty airs and pretensions of Capt. Mackay and his Independents would have been unbearable : but he kept his temper unruffled, and, w^ith a prudence beyond his years, forbore to do or say any tiling that would lead to an angry outbreak between them ; and as they chose to encamp outside the fort, and have separate guards, he deemed it wisest not to trouble himself about them, only so far as might concern their common safety. Days, and even weeks, had now passed away, and still no enemy had come to offer him battle. His men were becoming restless from inaction ; and the example of the troublesome Independents had already begun to stir up discontent among them, which threatened, if not checked in season, to end in down- right insubordination. As the surest remedy for these evils, Washington resolved to push forward with the road in the direction of Fort Duquesne, and carry the war into the enemy's own country. Re- questing Capt. Mackay to guard the fort during his absence, he set out with his entire force of three hun- dred men, and again began the toilsome work of cutting a road through the wilderness. The difficul- ties they had now to overcome were even greater than those which beset them at the outset of their pioneer- FORT NECESSITY. 151 ing. The mountains were higher, the swamps deeper, the rocks more massive, the trees taller and more numerous, the torrents more rapid, the days more hot and sultry, and the men and horses more enfeebled by poor and scanty food. You will not w^onder, then, that they were nearly two weeks in reaching Mr. Gist's plantation on the Monongahela, a distance of but fifteen miles. But hardly had they pitched their tents, and thrown themselves on the grass to snatch a little rest, when there came the disheartening intelligence, brought in by their Indian spies, that Capt. de Yilliers had been seen to sally from Fort Duquesne but a few hours before, at the head of a force of five hundred French and four hundred Indians, and must by that time be within a few miles of the Virginia camp. For three hundred weary and hungry men to wait and give battle to a force three times their number, fresh and well fed, was a thing too absurd to be thought of for a single moment. Washington, therefore, as their only chance of safety, ordered a hasty retreat, hoping that they might be able to reach the settle- ments on Wills's Creek before the enemy could over- take him. The retreat, however, was any thing but a hasty one ; for the poor half-famished horses were at last no longer able to drag the heavy cannon and carry the heavy baggage. Moved with pity for the lean and tottering beasts, Washington dismounted from his fine charger, and gave him for a pack-horse ; 152 THE FARMEK BOY. which humane example was promptly followed by his officers. Yet even this was not enough : so, while some of the jaded men loaded their backs with the baggage, the rest, as jaded, dragged the artillery along the stony roads with ropes, rather than that it should be left behind to fall into the hands of the enemy. For this good service, rendered so willingly in that hour of sore distress, they went not unre- warded by their generous young commander. Capt. Mackay and his company of Independents had, at Washington's request, come up a little while before, and now joined in the retreat. But they joined in nothing else ; for, pluming themselves upon their greater respectability as soldiers of his Britannic majesty, they lent not a helping hand in this hour of pressing need, although the danger that lurked behind threatened all alike. They marched along, these coxcombs, daintily picking their way over the smoothest roads, and too genteel to be bur- dened with any thing but their clean muskets and tidy knapsacks. This ill-timed and insolent behavior served only to aggravate the trials of the other poor fellows all the more ; and when, at last, they had managed to drag the cannon and the wagons and themselves to Fort Necessity, they were so overcome with fatigue and hunger, and so moved with indigna- tion at the conduct of the Independents, that they threw down their ropes and packs, and flatly refused to be marched fm-ther. Seeing their pitiful plight, FORT NECESSITY. 153 and that it would be impossible to reach the settle- ments, Col. Washington, as their last chance of safety, turned aside, and once more took shelter in his little fort. As Capt. Mackay and his company of gentlemen fiofhters had done nothinoj towards streno^thenino^ the works during his absence, Washington ordered a few trees to be felled in the woods hard by, as a still fur- ther barrier to the approach of the enemy. Just as the last tree went crashing down, the French and their Indian allies, nine hundred strong, came In sight, and opened a scattering fire upon the fort, but from so great a distance as made It httle more than an idle waste of powder and lead. Suspecting this to be but a feint of the crafty foe to decoy them into an ambuscade, Wasliington ordered lils men to keep within the shelter of the fort, there to lie close, and only to shoot when they could plainly see where their bullets were to be sent. A light skirmishing was kept up all day, and until a late hour In the night ; the Indians keeping the while within the shelter of the woods, which at no point came witliln sixty yards of the palisades. Whenever an Indian scalp-lock or a French cap showed Itself from among the trees or bushes. It that instant became the mark of a dozen sharpshooters watching at the rifle-holes of the fort. All that day, and all the night too, the rain poured down from one black cloud, as only a summer rain can pour, till 7* 154 THE FAEMER BOY. the ditclies were filled with water, and the breast- works nothing but a bank of miry clay ; till the men were drenched to the skin, and the guns of many so dampened as to be unfit for use. About nine o'clock that night, the firing ceased ; and shortly after a voice was heard, a little distance beyond the pahsades, calling upon the garrison, in the name of Capt. de Villiers, to surrender. Sus- pecting this to be but a pretext for getting a spy into the fort. Col. Washington refused to admit the bearer of the summons. Capt. de Villiers then re- quested that an officer be sent to his quarters to par- ley ; giving his word of honor that no mischief should befall him , or unfixir advantage be taken of it. Where- upon, Capt. van Braam, the old Dutch fencing-mas- ter, being the only French interpreter conveniently at hand, was employed to go and bring in the terms of surrender. He soon came back ; but the terms were too dishonorable for any true soldier to think of accepting. He was sent again, but with no better result. The third time, Capt. de Villiers sent written articles of capitulation ; which, being in his own lan- suaofe, must needs be first translated before an answer could be returned. By the flickering light of one poor candle, which could hardly be kept burning for the pouring rain, the Dutch captain read the terms he had brought, while the rest stood round him, gathering what sense they could from the con- fused jumbling of bad French, and worse Enghsh FORT NECESSITY. 1 J5 he was pleased to call a translation. After this, there followed a little more parleying between the hostile leaders ; when It was at last settled that the prisoners taken in the Jumonvllle affair should be set at liberty ; that the English should build no forts upon the disputed territories within a twelvemonth to come ; and that the garrison, after destroying the artillery and military stores, should be allowed to march out with all the honors of war, and pursue their way to the settlements, unmolested either by the French or their Indian allies. When we take into account the more than double strength of the enemy, the starving condition of the garrison (still further weakened as it was by the loss of twelve men killed and forty-three wounded) , and the slender hope of speedy succor from the settlements, these terms must be regarded as highly honorable to Col. Wash- ington ; and still more so when we add to this the fact, that the Half King and his other Indian allies had deserted him at the first approach of danger, un- der the pretext of finding some safer retreat for their wives and children. Whether they failed from choice, or hinderance to return, and take part In the action, can never now be known with certainty. ' Thus the dreary night wore away ; and, when the dreary morning dawned, they destroyed the artillery and the military stores, preparatory to their setting forth on their retreat. As all the horses had been killed or lost the day before, they had no means of 156 THE FARMER BOY. removing their heavy baggage : they therefore se- cured it as best they might, hoping to be able to send back for it from the settlements. Still in possession of their small-arms, they then marched out of the fort with all the honors of war, — fifes playing, drums beating, and colors flying. They had gone but a few yards from the fort, when a large body of Indians pounced with plundering hands upon the baggage. Seeing that the French could not or would not keep them back, Washington, to disappoint them of their booty, ordered his men to set fire to it, and destroy all they could not bring away upon their backs. This done, they once more took up then* line of march ; and a melancholy march it was. Between them and the nearest settlements, there lay seventy miles of steep and rugged mountain-roads, over which they must drag their weary and aching limbs before they could hope to find a little rest. Washington did all that a kind and thoughtful commander could to keep up the flagging spirits of his men ; sharing with them their every toil and privation, and all the while maintaining a firm and cheerftd demeanor. Reaching Wills's Creek, he there left them to enjoy the full abundance which they found awaiting them at that place ; and, in company with Capt. Mackay, repaired at once to Williamsbm'g to report the result of the campaign to Gov. Dinwiddie. A short time after, the terms of surrender were laid before the Virginia House of Burgesses, and FORT NECESSITY. 157 received the entire approval of that wise body ; who, although the expedition had ended in defeat and failure, most cheerfully gave Col. Washington and his men a vote of thanks, in testimony of their having done their whole duty as good and brave and faith- ful soldiers. XIV. GEKERAL BRADDOCK. HAVING brought the campaign to an honora- ble if not successful end, Col. Washington threw up his commission, and left the service. Tliis had been his determination for some time past ; and he felt that he could do so now without laying his conduct open to censure or suspicion, having within liis own breast the happy assurance, that, in the dis- charge of his late trust, he had acted the part of a faithful soldier and true patriot, seeking only his country's good. The reasons that led him to take this step need not be repeated, as you will readily understand them, if you still bear in mind what I told you a short time since touching those questions of rank which caused the difficulty between him and Capt. Mackay. A visit to liis much-beloved mother was the first use he made of his leisure. The profound love and reverence that never failed to mark his conduct towards his mother were amonc: the most beautiful traits of his character. The management of the family estate, and the education of the younger childi-en, [158] GENERAL BRADDOCK. 159 were concerns in wliich he ever took the liveliest interest ; and to make these labors light and easy to her by his aid or counsel was a pleasure to him indeed. Tliis grateM duty duly done, he once more sought the shelter of Mount Vernon, to whose com- forts he had been for so many months a stranger. The toils of a soldier's hfe were now exchanged for the peaceful labors of a husbandman. Nor did tliis change, to his well-ordered mind, bring with it any idle regrets ; for the quiet p\irsuits of a farmer's life yielded him, young, ardent, and adventiu-ous as he was, scarcely less delight than the profession of arms, and even more as he grew in years. The aiFair of the Great Meadows roused the mo- ther-country at last to a fidl sense of the danger that threatened her possessions in America. Accordingly, to regain what had been lost, money, and munitions of war, and a gallant little army fitted out in the completest style of that day, were sent over with all possible expedition, under the command of Major- Gen. Braddock. From the shrubby heights of Mount Yernon, Washington could look down, and behold the British ships-of-war as they moved slowly up the majestic Potomac, their decks thronged with officers and sol- diers dressed in showy uniform, their polished arms and accoutrements flashing back the cold, clear hght of the- February sun. From their encampment at Alexandria, a few miles distant, he could hear the IGO THE FARMER BOY. booming of tlieir morning and evening guns, as it came rolling over the hills and tlu-oiigh the woods, and shook his quiet home like a sullen summons to arms. Often, no longer able to keep down Ills youth- ful ardor, he would mount his horse, and, galloping up to the town, spend hours there in watcliing the different companies, as with the precision of clock- w^ork they went through their varied and difficult evolutions. At these sights and sounds, all the mar- tial spirit within him took fire again. To Gen. Braddock, who commanded all the forces in America, provincial as well as royal. Gov. Din- widdle and other Virginia notables spoke in the highest terms of the character of young Washington ; giving liim at the same time still fiirther particulars of the brave and soldierly conduct he had so sig- nally shown during the campaign of the previous year. They took pleasure, they said, in recommend- ing him as one whose skill and experience in Indian warfare, and thorough acquaintance with the wild country beyond the borders, were such as could be turned to the greatest advantage in the course of the following campaign. Desirous of securing services of such peculiar value, Braddock sent om* young Virginian a courteous invi- tation to join his staff; offering him the post of volunteer aide-de-camp, with the rank of colonel. Here was an opportunity of gratifying his taste for arms under one of the first generals of the day. GENERAL BRADDOCK. 161 Could he do it without the sacrifice of honor or self- respect? Although he had left the service for the best of reasons, as you must bear in mind, yet there was nothing in these reasons to hinder him from serv- ing his country, not for pay, but as a generous volunteer, bearing his ovm expenses. Besides, such a post as this would place him altogether above the authority of any equal or inferior officer who mi^ht chance to hold a king's commission. Debating thus with himself, and urged on by his friends, he ac- cepted Braddock's invitation, and joined his staff as volunteer aide-de-camp. Now, would you know what an aide-de-camp is ? Wait, and you will find out for yourselves when we come to the battle of the Monongahela, where Brad- dock suffered his gallant Httle army to be cut to pieces by the French and Indians. When IVIrs. Washington heard that her son was on the eve of joining the new army, ftdl of a mother's fears, she hastened to entreat him not again to expose liimself to the dangers and trials of a soldier's life. Although the army was the only opening to distinction at that time in the Colonies, yet, to have him ever near her, she would rather have seen him quietly set- tled at liis beautiful homestead, as an unpretendino- farmer, than on the high road to every worldly honor at the risk of Hfe or virtue. Ever mindful of her slightest wishes, her son listened respectfully to all her objections, and said all he could to quiet her 162 THE FARMER BOY. motherly fears : but, feeling that he owed his highest duty to his country, he was not to be turned from his steadfast purpose ; and, taking an affectionate leave of her, he set out to join his general at Fort Cumber- land. Fort Cumberland was situated on Wills's Creek, and had just been built by Braddock as a gathering point for the border ; and thither he had removed his whole army, with all his stores, and munitions of war. Upon further acquaintance, Wasliington found this old veteran a man of courteous though somewhat haughty manners, of a hasty and uneven temper, strict and rigid in the discipline of liis soldiers, much given to martial pomp and parade, and self-conceited and wilfiil to a degree that was sometimes scarcely bearable. He was, however, of a sociable and hospi- table tm*n ; often inviting his officers to dine with him, and entertaining them like princes. So keen a rehsh had he for the good things of the table, that he never travelled without his two cooks, who were said to have been so uncommonly skilful in their line of business, that they could take a pair of boots, and boil them down into a very respectable dish of soup, give them only the seasoning to finish it off with. The little folks, however, must be very cautious how they receive this story, as then- Uncle Juvinell will not undertake to vouch for the truth of it. The contractors — that is to say, the men who had been engaged to furnish the army with a certain GENEKAL BKADDOCK. 163 number of horses, pack-saddles, and wagons, by a certain time, and for a certain consideration — had failed to be as good as their word, and had thereby seriously hindered the progTCSS of the campaign. As might have been expected, this was enough to throw such a man as Braddock into a towering passion ; and, to mend his humor, the governors of the different provinces were rR)t as ready and brisk to answer his call for men and supplies as he thought he had a right to expect. So he poured forth his vials of wrath upon whom- soever or whatsoever chanced to come uppermost. He, stormed at the contractors ; he railed at the gov- ernors, and sneered at the troops they sent him ; he abused the country in general, and scolded about the bad roads in particular. Washington, with his usual clearness of insight into character, soon saw, to his deep disappointment, that this was hardly the man to conduct a wilderness campaign to any thing like a successful end, how- ever brave the testy old veteran might be, and expert in the management of well-drilled regulars in the open and cultivated regions of the Old World. Of the same opinion was Dr. Frankhn, who, being at that time Postmaster-General of all the Colonies, came to Braddock's quarters at Fort Cumberland to make some arrangements for transporting the mail to and from the army during the progress of the expe- dition. I will read you his own lively account of 164 THE FAEMEK EOF. this interview, as it will enable you to see more clearly those faults of Braddock's character that so soon after brought ruin on his own head, and disgrace i^pon English arms in America. " In conversation with him one day, he was giving me some account of his intended progress. ' After taking Fort Duquesne/ said he, ' I am to proceed to Niagara ; and, hav- ing taken that, to Frontenac, if the season will allow ; 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.' " Having before revolved in my mind the long line his army must make in their march by a very narrow road to be cut for them through the woods and bushes, and also what I had heard of a former defeat of fifteen hundred French who invaded the Illinois country, I had conceived some doubts and some fears for the event of the campaign ; but I ventured only to say, ' To be sure, sir, if you arrive well before Duquesne with these fine troops, so well pro- vided with artillery, the fort, though completely fortified and assisted with a very stroiig garrison, can probably make but a short resistance. The only danger I apprehend of obstruction to your march is from the ambuscades of the Indians, who, by constant practice, are dexterous in laying and executing them ; and the slender line, nearly four miles long, which your army must make, may expose it to be attacked by surprise on its flanks, and to be cut like thread into several pieces, which, from their distance, cannot come up in time to support one another.' He smiled at my ignorance, and replied, — GENERAJi BRADDOCK. 1G5 " ' These savages may, indeed, be a formidable enemy to raw American militia ; but upon the king's regulai- and dis- ciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they should make an impression.' '* I was conscious of an impropriety in my disputing with a military man in matters of. his profession, and said no more." In the course of this intemew, Franklin chanced to express a regret that the army had not been landed in Penjisylvania, where, as every farmer kept liis own wacron and horses, better means would have been more readily found for transportmg the troops, with their hea\y guns and munitions of war, across the country and over the mountains. Quick to take a hint, Braddock made haste to request him, as a man of standing in liis colony, to furnish him. In the king's name, one himdi'ed and fifty wagons, and four horses to each wagon, besides a large number of pack-horses and pack-saddles. This, Franklin readily undertook to do ; and went about it with such diligence, that by the latter part of spring, even before the time set, he had fulfilled his promise to the last letter ; and Brad- dock had now the satisfaction of seeing liis army, after all these vexatious delays, in a condition to move forward. Meanwhile, AYashington was all attention to affairs in camp, and was daily gaining fresh Insight into the art of war, as understood and practised In the most civilized countries of the Old World. Every day the 1G6 THE FARMER BOY. men were drilled, and passexl under review ; their arms and accontrenients carefiilly inspected by their offi- cers, to make sure that they were in perfect order, and ready for use at a moment's notice. Sentinels and gusirds were stationed in and about the camp, day and niiiht. So strict was the watch kept by tliis lynx-eyed old genei'al over the morals of liis men, that drunken- ness was punished with severe confinement ; and any one found guilty of theft was drummed out of his regiment, after receiving five hundred stripes on his bare back. Every Sunday, the soldiers were called together, under the colors of their separate regi- ments, to hear divine service performed by their chaplains. To lend variety to the scene, the Indians of the neighboring wilderness came flocking in to join their fortunes with the Enu'lish, or briuix information of the movements or designs of the French. Among these came his old friend and ally, White Thunder, keeper of the speech-belt ; and Silver Heels, a renowned warrior, so called, no doubt, from his being uncom- monly nimble of foot. Also, as we shall meet him again hereafter, should be mentioned another sachem, whose Indian name the little folks must excuse their Uncle Juvinell from giving them in fidl. By your leave, then, for the sake of brevity and convenience^ we will call him by the last two syllables of his name, Yaddi. From them Washington learned, much OENEIIAL BRADDOCK. 107 to IjIh regret, that Km red brother, the Half King, hjid (lied a few month.s Ijcjfore ; having, as the con- jurorH or inedieine-men of lii.s tribe pretended, been bewitched by the Freneli for t}ie terribhi blow h(j had dealt them at the battle of Jumonville, whieli had filled them with Huch terror, that they dared not hope for Hafety in the wide earth till certain that he walked and ate and filept no more among living men. Although Braddock held these savage allies in high contempt, yet when Washington pointed out to him how much was to be gained by their friendship, and how much to be lost by their enmity, he was p(;r- Huaded, for that one time at least, to treat them with marked respect and distinction. To give them an overwhelming idea of the power and splendor of English arms, he received them with all the honors of war, — fifes playing, drums beating, and the regidars lowering their muskets as they passed on to the general's tent. Here Braddock received them in the midst of his officers, and made them a speech of welcome, in the course of which he told them of th(; deep sorrow felt by their great father, the King of England, for the death of his red brother, the Half King; and that, to console his red children in Ame- rica for so grievous a loss, as well as to reward them for their friendship and services to the English, he had sent them many rich and handsome presents, wliich they should receive before leaving the fort. 168 THE FAKMER BOY. This speecli was answered by a dozen warriors in as many orations, which being very long and very flowery, and very httle to the point, bored their EngHsh Hsten- ers dreadfully. The peace-pipe smoked and the Big Talk ended, Braddock, by way of putting a cap on the grand occasion, ordered all the fifes to play, and drums to beat, and, in the midst of the music, all the guns in the fort to be fired at once. He then caused a bullock to be killed, and roasted whole, for the refreshment of his Indian guests. The Indians, in their turn, to show how sensible they were of the honor done them by this distin- guished reception, entertained the English by dancing their war-dances and singing their war-songs : by which you are to understand that they jumped and whu'led and capered about in a thousand outlandish antics till they grew limber and weak in the knees, and yelped and bellowed and howled till their bodies were almost empty of breath ; when, from very ex- haustion, they hushed their barbarous din, and night and slumber fell on the camp. In the daytime, these lords of the forest, tricked out in all their savage finery, their faces streaked with war-paint and their scalp-locks brave with gay bunches of feathers, would stalk about the fort, big with wonder over every thing they saw. Now and then, they would follow with admiring eyes the rapid and skilful movement of the red-coated regulars, as one or other of the regiments, like some huge machine, went through GENERAL BRADDOCK. 1G9 their martial exercises ; or, standing on the ram- parts, they would watch with still keener zest and interest the young officers as they amused themselves by racing their horses outside the fort. As ill luck would have it, these warriors had brought with them their wives and children, among whom were many very pretty Indian girls, with plump, round forms, little hands and feet, and beady, roguish eyes'. As female society was not by any means one of the charms of life at Fort Cumberland, the coming of these wild beauties was hailed with the liveliest delight by the young English officers, who, the moment they laid eyes on them, fell to lov- ing them to desperation. First among these forest belles was one who went by the expressive name of Bright Lightning ; so called, no doubt, from being the favorite daughter of White Thunder. It being noised abroad that she was a savage princess of the very first blood, she, of course, at once became the centre of fashionable attraction, and the leading toast of all the young blades in camp. No sooner, however, did the warriors get wind of these gallant- ries, than they were quite beside themselves \^dth rage and jealousy, and straightway put an end to them ; making the erring fair ones pack off home, bag and baggage, sorely to their disappointment, as well as to that of the young British lions, who were quite inconsolable for their loss. This scandalous behavior on the part of the 8 170 THE FARMER BOY. English — of wliich, however, your Uncle Juvinell may have spoken more lightly than he ought — was, as you may well believe, very disgusting to Washing- ton, who was a young man of the purest thoughts and habits. As may be naturally supposed, it gave deep and lasting offence to the sachems ; and when to this is coupled the fact, that their wishes and opinions toucliing war-matters were never heeded or consulted, we cannot wonder that they one by one forsook the English, with all their warriors, and came no more. Foreseeing this, and well knoAving w^hat valuable service these people could render as scouts and spies, Washington had gone to Braddock, time and again, warnins: him to treat them with more regard to their peculiar whims and customs, if he did not wish to lose the advantages to be expected from their friend- sliip, or bring upon him the terrible consequences of their enmity. As this wise and timely advice came from a young provincial colonel, the wrong-headed old general treated it, of course, with high disdain, and to the last remained obstinate in the belief that he could march to the very heart of the continent without meeting an enemy who could withstand his well-drilled regulars and fine artillery. And thus, my dear children, did tliis rash and wilful man cast lightly away the golden opportunity, wherein, by a few kind words, or tokens of respect, he could have gained the lasting friendsliip of this GEXERAI. BRADDOCK. 171 much-despised race, and thereby made them, in all human likelihood, the humble means of savin o- from early destruction the finest army, which, up to that time, had carried its banners to the Western World. XV. ROUGH WORK. AT last, all things were got in readiness ; and the gallant little army began its toilsome march through the forest, and over the mountains, and up and down the valleys. Beside the regulars, fourteen hundred strong, it consisted of two companies of hatchet-men, or carpenters, whose business it was to go on before, and open the road ; a small company of seamen, who had the care and management of the artillery ; six companies of rangers, some of whom were Pennsylvanians ; and two companies of light horse, which, being composed of young men taken from the very first families of Virginia, Braddock had chosen to be his body-guard : the whole number- ing two thousand, or thereabouts. Owing to the difficulty of dragging the loaded wagons and heavy guns over the steep and rocky roads, the march was slow and tedious in the extreme ; and what made it still more trying to Washing- ton's patience was to see so many wagons and pack- horses loaded down with the private baggage of [172] ROUGH WORK. 173 the English officers, — such as fine clothing, table dainties, and a hundred little troublesome conve- niences, which they must needs lug about with them wherever they went. Weeks before they left Fort Cumberland, Washington had pointed out to Brad- dock the folly of attempting to cross that monstrous mountain barrier with a cumbrous train of wheel- carriages ; and expressed the opinion, that, for the present, they had better leave the bulk of their baggage and their heaviest artillery, and, trusting entirely to pack-horses for transporting what should be needed most, make their way at once to Fort Du- quesne while the garrison was yet too weak to offer any resistance. This prudent counsel, however, as usual, had failed to produce the least effect on the narrow and stubborn mind of Braddock ; but by the time he had dragged his unwieldy length over two or three mountains, and had made but a few miles in many days, it began to dawn on his mind by slow degrees , that a campaign in an American wilder- ness was a very different thing from what it was in the cultivated regions of Europe, where nearly every meadow, field, or wood, could tell of a Christian and civilized battle there fought, and where the fine roads and bridges made the march of an army a mere holi- day jaunt as compared to this rough service. The difficulties that beset him seeming to thicken around him at every step, he was at last so sorely put to it and perplexed as to be obliged to turn to the 174 THE FARMER BOY. voiing proTinoial colonel for that advice wlilcli lie, in liis blind selt-contidence, had but a short while betbre disdained. Too well bred to seem surprised at this unbending of the haughty old general, although he really Avas not a little, AVashington readily, yet with all becom- ing modesty, did as he was desired, in a clear, brief, and soldierly manner. He gave it as his opinion, that their best plan would be to diA'ide the army into two parts, — the smaller division, under command of Col. Dunbar, to form the rear, and bring up the heavy guns and baoo'ao-e-wao'ons : the laro-er divi- slon, under the command of Braddock, to form the advance, and taking with it but two pieces of light artillery, and no more baggage than could be con- veniently carried on pack-horses,* push rapidly on to Fort Duquesne, and surprise the garrison before they could receive timely warning of their danger, or be re-enforced by the troops from Canada, which would have arrived ere then, had not the summer drouuht prevented. To some extent, this prudent advice was followed ; and, to give it the force of example, Wash- ino'ton reduced his bao^sras^e to a few little necessaries that he could easily carry in a small portmanteau strapped to liis back, and gave his fine charger to be used as a pack-horse. His brother provincial officers, accustomed as thev were to deahnsr with the diffi- culties and inconveniences of a backwoods life, in a ready, off-hand fashion, followed his example with bot;gii work. 175 the greatfesrt willingneiis and gfxA-humfyr, yrAwixh^ istandmf^ thi«, hfjwever, there were stOl two hnndred pack-hor.^es ]fj2Ae(l with the private baggage of the EDgliih officers, who were unwiDing, eTeii in that hour of pressing need, to make this little sacn&ee oi their present comfort to the common good. So tender did they seem of their bodily ease, and go given np to the pleaeures of appetite, that Wash- ington began to have serious donbts of their fitness to endure the hardships of a roncfh campaign, and of their courage and firmness to face the dangers of the battle-field. One evening late, about this time, as the army lay encamped at the Little Meadows, there suddenly appeared among them, from the neighboring woods, a large party of hunters, all Pennsylvanians, dressed in the wild garb of Indians, and armed with hatchets, knives, and rifles. TTieir leader was a certain Capt. Jack, one of the greatest hunters of his day, and nearly as famous in the border tales of Pennsylva- nia as Daniel Boone in those of green Kentucky. When your Uncle Juvinell was quite a lad, he read the story of this strange man, in an old book, which pleased and interested him so much at the time, that he has never since forgotten it, and will now repeat it to you in the very words of the old chro- nicler : — "The 'Black Hunter,' the 'Black Rifle,' the 'Wild Hunter of Juniata,' Ls a white man. His history is this : 176 THE FAEMER BOY. He entered the woods with a few enterprising companions, buih his cabin, cleared a little land, and amused himself with the pleasure of fishing and hunting. He felt happy ; for then he had not a care. But on an evening, when he returned from a day of sport, he found his cabin burnt, his wife and children murdered. From that moment he for- sakes civilized man, hunts out caves m which he lives, protects the frontier inhabitants from the Indians, and seizes every opportunity of revenge that offers. He lives the terror of the Indians, and the consolation of the whites. On one occasion, near Juniata, in the middle of a dark hight, a family were suddenly awaked from sleep by the report of a gun. They jumped from their huts ; and, by the glimmering light from, the chimney, saw an Indian fall to rise no more. The open door exposed to view the Wild Hunter. ' I have saved your lives ! ' he cried ; then turned, and was buried in the gloom of night." Bidding his leather-stockings to wait where they were till he came back, the Black Hunter strode on to the general's tent, and, without more ado than to enter, made known the object of his coming there, in a speech that smacked somewhat of the Indian style of oratory ; which I will give you, as nearly as I can, in his own words : — " Englishmen, the foe is on the watch. He lurks in the strongholds of the mountains. He hides in the shadows of the forest. He hovers over you like a hungry vulture ready to pounce upon its prey. He has made a boast that he will keep his eye upon you, from his look-outs on the hills, day and night, till you have walked into his snare, ROUGH WORK. 177 when he will shoot down your gay red-birds like pigeons. Englishmen, dangers thicken round you at every step ; but in the pride of your strength you have blinded your eyes, so that you see them not. I have brought my hunters, who are brave and trusty men, to serve you as scouts and spies. In your front and in your rear, and on either hand, we will scour the woods, and beat the bushes, to stir up the lurking foe, that your gallant men fall not into his murder- ous ambuscade. To us the secret places of the wilderness are as an open book ; in its depths we have made our homes this many a year : there we can find both food and shelter. We ask no pay, and our rifles are all our own." To this noble and disinterested offer, Braddock returned a cold and haughty answer. "There is time enough," said he, "for making such arrangements ; and I have experienced troops on whom I can rely." Stung to the quick by tliis uncivil and ungenerous treatment, the Black Hunter, without another word, turned, and, with a kindling eye and proud step, left the tent. When he told his follow^ers of the scornful manner in which the English general had treated their leader, and rejected their offer of service, they staid not, but, with angry and indignant mien, filed out of the camp, and, plunging once more into the wilderness, left the devoted little army to march on to that destruction to which its ill-starred commander seemed so fatally bent on leading it. " The contemp- tuous indifference which always marked the demeanor 8* 178 THE FAEMER BOY. of Braddock towards these rude but brave and trusty- warriors of the woods was very oifensive to Wash- ington ; the more, as he knew, that, when it came to be put to the test, these men, unskilled though they were in the modes of ci\alized warfare, would be found far better fitted to cope with the cunning and stealthy enemy they had then to deal with, than those well-dressed, well-armed, well-di*illed, but un- wieldy regulars. After having rested a few days at the Little Mea- dows, the advanced division of the army once more took up the line of inarch ; but, to Washington's disappointment, made scarcely better speed than before, although lightened of nearly all of the heavy- baggage. " I found," wrote he a short time after, "that, instead of pushing on with \agor, we were halting to level every mole-hill, and erect bridges over every brook ; by which means we were some- times four days in getting twelve miles." Slowly the long and straggling lines held on their weary- way, now scrambling over some rugged steep, now winchng along some narrow defile, till at length the silence of that gloomy vale — the Shades of Death — was again broken by the shouts and uproar of a marching army. For several days, Washington had been suffering much from fever, attended with a racking headache, which had obliged him to travel in a covered wagon. By the time they reached the great crossings of the ROUGH WORK. 179 Youglilogeny, his illness had so increased, that Dr. Craik, liis good friend and physician, declared it would be almost certain death for him. to travel fur- ther ; at the same time advising him to stay where he was until his fever should somewhat abate its violence, when he could come up with Dunbar's rear division. His brother officers also, and even his old general, kindly urged him to give up all thought of going on for the present ; while, to render his disap- pointment more bearable, some of them promised to keep him informed, by writing, of every thing note- worthy wliich should happen in the course of their march. Seeing there was no help for it, he suffered himself to be left behind : but it was with a sad and heavy heart that he saw them pass on without him ; and when they had vanished, one by one, in the shadows of the neiorhborino' wilds, and the o-leamins" of their arms could no lono;er be seen throuo;h the openings of the trees and bushes, he turned with a sigh, and said to the men whom Braddock had left to nurse and guard him, "I would not for five hun- dred pounds miss being at the taking of Fort Du- quesne." Here he lay for ten days ; his fever, no doubt, much aggravated by his impatience to rejoin his comrades, and the fear lest he should not be well in time to share with them the dano;ers and honors of the comino; contest. Meanwhile, Braddock pursued his slow and tedious march, and in a few days had passed the Great 180 THE FARMER BOY. Meadows, where young Washington, the year before, as you must well remember, had learned his first lessons in the rude art of war. A few miles beyond this, he came to a deserted Indian camp, on the top of a rocky hill, wdiere, to judge from the number of wigwams, at least one hundred and seventy warriors must have lodo-ed. The fires w^ere still burnino: ; which showed but too plainly that the stealthy foe was on the watch, and not far distant. Some of the trees hard by had been stripped of their bark ; and on their white, sappy trunks were to be seen, in the rude picture-w^riting of the Indians, savage taunts and threats of veno^eance meant for the Enof- lish ; while intermixed with these were bullying boasts and blackguard slang, written in the French language, as if to force on the notice of those who were to read them the fact, that there were white as well as red men lurking near. It had almost slipped my mind to tell you, that Braddock, moved perhaps by the ad^dce of Wash- ington, had, before setting out from Fort Cumber- land, employed a small party of Indians, with their sachem Yadi at their head, to serve as guides and spies during the campaign. A few days after passing the deserted camp on the rock, four or five soldiers, straggling too far in the rear, were suddenly waylaid by the prowling foe, and all murdered and scalped on the spot. To avenge the death of their comrades, a squad of ROUGH WORK. 181 regulars went out in quest of the enemy, and soon came in sight of a small party of Indians, who held up the boughs of trees before them, and stood their riiies on the ground, as a sign that they Avere friends. Xot understanding this, however, and the distance l)eing too great for them to make out who they were, the blundering regulars fired, and one of the party fell dead on the spot, — a youthful warrior, who proved to be the son of the sachem Yadi. When Braddock heard of this melancholy accident, he was deeply grieved. He forthwith sent for the bereaved father, and, ^ his praise be it ev'er recorded, endea- vored, by kind words and liberal presents, to console him, and make some little amends for his heavy loss ; and, as a still further token of his regard, he ordered the hapless youth to be buried with all the honors of war. The body, borne on a bier, was followed by the officers, two and two ; while the soldiers, drawn up in two lines, with the grave between them, stood facing each other, with the points of their muskets turned downward, and their chins resting in the hol- low of the breeches. When the body was lowered, they fired three volleys over the grave, and left the young warrior to his long sleep on the hillside, with his bright hatchet and trusty rifle beside him. All this was very soothing to the sorrow and gratifying to the fatherly pride of the old sachem, and made him ever after a loving friend and faithful ally of the English. I have told you this little story to show 182 THE FARMER BOY. you, that this testy and obstinate old general, with all his faults, was far from being the hard, unfeel- ino- man that he sometimes seemed ; and also as ff tribute that every historian should pay to the memory of one whose misfortune it has been to be blamed so much, and pitied so little. By this time, Washington had so far regained his strength as to admit of his being borne along in a covered wagon ; and, setting out accordingly, in five days came up with the advance division, where It lay encamped In a beautiful spot about two miles from the Monongahela, and fifteen miles fi«om Fort Du- quesne. Here he was joyfully welcomed by both officers and men, with whom his generosity, and frank, manly bearing, had made him a great favorite. Shortly after his arrival, Mr Gist and two Indian scouts, who had been sent out to reconnoitre or spy out the enemy, came back with the cheering tidings, that the re-enforcements had not yet come down from Canada, and that the garrison in the fort was at present too weak to stand a single hour's siege. But what gave him a little uneasiness was a lofty column of smoke, rising from a deep and densely wooded hollow, where they were quite sure the watchful enemy was lurking, and hatchino; some mischief for the Eno;lIsh. Now, the fort and the camp lay on the same side of the river ; and the most direct route between them was by a narrow mountain pass, rising abruptly from the water's edge on the left, and, on the right, shut ROUGH WORK. 183 lu by a steep and lofty hill, whose stony sides were overgrown with laurel and stunted cedars and pines. As it was altogether out of the question to drag their wagons and artillery along this pass, it was resolved to cross the river, first at a point just over against the camp, and then, moving down along the opposite bank, recross it at another point five miles below ; at both of which places the fords were shallow, and the banks not high. At last, the 9th of July, 1755, — a day ever to be remembered in American annals, — began to dawn. Long before its first red light had streaked the east, a hum in the camp told that the little army was, even at that hour, all astir, and big with the bustle of preparation. Officers and men were in the high- est hopes, and looked forward with confidence to the coming evening, when they were to plant their vic- torious banners on the ramparts of Fort Duquesne. Although they had marched thus far without serious molestation, yet Col. Washington's fears of an am- buscade were not a whit diminished ; for he felt quite certain that they should never reach the French fort without an attempt being made to surprise, or drive them back. Full of these apprehensions, he went to Gen. Braddock, and, pointing out to lilm the danger hanging over them, urged him by all means to send out the Virginia rangers to scour the woods and thickets, front and flank, and beat up the enemy, should any chance to be lurking near with the design 184 THE FARMER BOY. of drawing them Into an ambuscade. No advice, as it afterwards turned out, could have been more timely : but, coming from a raw provincial colonel, Braddock' cast it aside with angry impatience ; and when the line of march was formed, as if to show in what light esteem he held it, he ordered the rangers to the rear, to guard the baggage. Before daybreak, a large party of pioneers, or road-cutters, with a small guard of regulars, numbering in all about three hundred, had gone on before to open a passage for the army through the woods, and make the fords more passable by levelling the banks. The midsummer sun was shooting its first beams, level and red, among the Alleghany hills, when the little army, having crossed the Monongahela at the upper ford, stood on its southern bank, forming in line of march. By order of their general, officers and men had scoured and polished their arms and accoutrements the night before ; and now appeared in full uniform, as if some grand military parade were to be the programme of the day. The whole line was soon moving slowly forward, with fifes playing, drums beating, and colors flying ; the regulars keep- ing step the while to the " Grenadier's March." In the clear and tranquil depths of the river, as they moved along Its shady banks, could be seen, as in a mirror, the long array of leather-shirted rangers and red-coated regulars, with their sun-lit arms and prancing steeds, and bright banners that floated in the ROUGH WORK. 185 moriiing breeze. This brilliant spectacle, so well set oiF by the smiling river in front and the frowning woods beyoncT, formed a picture that ever lived in the memory of Washington ; and in after-years he used often to say, that, as it then appeared to liim, he thought he had never seen any tiling so beautiful. In the enthusiasm of the moment, he forgot his late illness, the still enfeebled condition of liis body, — all, save the glory of serving his countiy ; and, mounting his horse, he joined his brother-aides in their attendance on their general, else far more fatal must have been the end of that bloody day. XVI. braddock's defeat. IN my account of tliis battle, as well as all the others that will come thundering In upon us from time to time In the course of our story, I have thought It would suit our purpose best to touch upon those facts only that are Hkehest to leave the most lasting pictures of such events on your minds ; using the while no more words than may actually be needed to give clearness and completeness to the same. And now, Daniel, my young Herodotus, and Ned, my young Hannibal, bring In another Christ- mas log, that we may have a more cheerful blaze ; for our story will be doleful enough for the next half-hour, without these goblin shadows dodging and flittino: about the room to make It more so. At mid-day, Braddock's army came to the lower ford, where a halt was called to allow of a few minutes' rest. Far In front, across the river, the ringing of a hundred axes, followed at short Inter- vals by the crash of falling trees, could be distinctly heard ; telling that the pioneers were there, working might and main to clear a passage for those behind. [186] br.\ddock's defeat. 187 The road just opened, after leaving the ford, ran across a hea\ily wooded bottom that skirted the river ; and thence, for a few hundi'ed yards, up a rocky slope to the foot of a high range of liills, about a mile distant, where it entered a narrow, bushy defile, and went no further. The country, for miles and miles around, as far as the eye could reach, was thickly wooded, save the rocky slope just mentioned, and the neighboring ravines, which were overgrown with long, coarse grass and whortleberry-bushes, so high as to sweep the horses' bellies ; with here and there a few scattering trees of some size. It was the very place, of all others, that the wily Indian would be most likely to choose for his ambus- cade. By two o'clock, the whole army had regained the northern bank of the river. They were now within ten miles of Fort Duquesne, and a lucky end to then- present campaign seemed near at hand. In a few minutes, artillery and baggage, foot and horse, regulars and rangers, formed into separate and dis- tinct columns, stood ready to move as soon as the word should be given. Just at the moment, how- ever, when they were listening to hear the order, "Forward, march!" drop from their general's lips, they were startled by a sudden and heavy firing among the hills, which put a sudden stop to the hundred axes, and told but too plainly that the road- cutters and their guard of regulars had been drawn 188 THE FARMER BOY. into an ambuscade. Washington knew at once, and too well, that the evil he dreaded from the beo^in- ing, had, on the very eve of success, come upon them ; and with it also came the painful reflection, that it would never have so befallen them, had the rangers been suiFered to scour the woods, and beat up the enemy, as had been recommended by him but a few hours before. Braddock forthwith ordered two companies to hurry on to the relief of the pio- neers ; and, at his bidding, one of his aides spurred forward to learn further of the matter, and bring liim word. The firing grew heavier and heavier, and seemed to be coming nearer and nearer. The lonely hills and woods around rang with the whoops and yells of the unseen savages. Not able to restrain his impatience till liis aide came back, Braddock ordered his main division to come up at double-quick ; and, taking with him his two remaining aides and a small guard of light-horse, galloped up to the scene of action. Here what was his rage and mortifica- tion to find his doughty regulars, of whom he had boasted so much, changed, as it were in the whistling of a bullet, into a mere disorderly rabble of red- coats, — confused, bewildered, to a degree that he could never have dreamed possible ! Crowded and huddled together in the narrow road, he saw them dropping down under the Indian bullets, helpless as a herd of frightened deer beset by a band of unseen hunters. braddock's defeat. 189 By this time, the Indians, still hid from view by the grass and bushes, had stretched their lines along either side of the road, from the hollows among the hills to some distance down the rocky slope, and were pouring in a murderous fire upon the affright- ed English ; yelling and whooping the while hke a leo-ion of devils at some infernal frolic. Two bayo- net charges had been made to drive them from their hiding-places, but in vain. The regulars, notwith- standing their officers' orders to the contrary, kept up a hurried but random firing, which had little or no effect upon the enemy, as nothing could be seen of liim but the puffs of rifle-smoke that rose and hovered in little blue clouds over his place of ambush. The Enghsh, it is said, were less appalled by the whis- tling bullets of the unseen savages than by their unearthly yells, — a sound that none of them had ever heard before, and many a poor fellow of them never heard again. The Indian war-whoop has been described as a sound so wild and terrible, that, when once heard in battle, it rings in the listener's ears for weeks thereafter, and is never forgotten even to his dying day. But the Enghsh officers, on the contrary, behaved themselves with a gallantry that filled Washington with astonishment and admiration. Heretofore he had seen them only in camp or on the line of march, where their habits of ease and self-indulgence had led him to doubt their having the courage and firmHCSs 190 TIIE FARRIER BOY. to face, \^dthout shrinlvlng, danger in such appalling forms. Unmindful of the bullets that whistled con- tinually about their heads, they galloped up and down the broken and bleeding lines, in the vain en- deavor to rally their men, and bring them again to somethins: like order. Mounted on fine horses, and di'essed in rich uniforms, they offered a tempting mark to the unseen rifles that were levelled at them from beliind every tree and bush, and tuft of grass ; and, ere the work of death was finished, many a gal- lant steed, with dangling reins and bloody saddle, dashed riderless about the field. And, as if this were not enough, many of them must needs fall victims to the unsoldierly conduct of their own men, who, for- getfid of all discipline, and quite beside themselves with terror and bewilderment, loaded their pieces hurriedly, and fired them off at random, killing friends as well as foes. Nor did this most shameful part of the bloody scene end here : many of the Virginia rangers, who had already taken to the trees and bushes, and were doing good service by fighting the Indians in their own fashion, were shot down by the blunderino^ re<2rulars, who fired into the woods wherever they saw a puff of smoke, unable to dis- tinguish whether it rose from a red or a white man's rifle. Upon these brave rangers the brunt of the battle fell ; and indeed, had it not been for their firmness and presence of mind, their skill and address in the arts and strategems of Indian warfare, which beaddock's defeat. 191 enabled them for a time to hold the enemy in check, hardly a remnant of Braddock's fine army would have survived to behold the going-down of that sum- mer's sun. At the very commencement of the battle, a small party of warriors, cheered on by a French officer in a fancifully trimmed hunting-shirt, had leaped out from their covert into the road, with the view, it seemed, of cutting off those in front from the assist- ance of their comrades in the rear ; but the regulars, who guarded the road-cutters, having discharged a well-aimed volley of musketry into their very faces, they had turned, and fled with even more haste than they had come, leaving behind them several of their number dead on the spot, and among these their dash- ing French leader. After that, they had taken care to keep close under cover of the grass and bushes. Now and then, however, a tall brave, grim and hide- ous with war-paint, with a yell of defiance would leap from his ambush, and, darting into the road, tomahawk and scalp a wounded officer just fallen ; then vanish again as suddenly as if the earth had opened to swallow him up. All this while. Col. Washington had borne himself with a firmness, courage, and presence of mind, that would have done honor to a forty-years' veteran. His two brother aides-de-camp having been wounded early in the engagement, the whole duty of carrying the general's orders had fallen on him ; and nobly 192 THE FARMER BOY. did he that day discharge it. Although brave men were falling thick and fast on every side, yet he shrank from no exposure, however perilous, did his duty but lead liim there. Mounted on horseback, liis tall and stately form was to be seen in every part of the field, the mark of a hundred rifles, whose deadly muzzles were pointed at him wliithersoever he went. Two horses were shot dead under him, and his coat was pierced with bullets ; but he seemed to bear about him a charmed life, and went unharmed. His danger was so great, that his friend Dr. Craik, who watched his movements with anxious interest, looked every moment to see him fall headlong to the ground ; and that he came oflf alive seemed to him a miracle. Washington himself, with that piety which ever marked his character, laid his deliverance from the perils of that fatal day to the overruling care of a kind and watchful Providence. Although brought thus suddenly face to face with new and untried dangers, Braddock bore himself throughout the day like the valiant man that he really was. The bullets and yells of the invisible foe he scarcely noticed, as he galloped hither and thither about the field, giving his orders through a speaking- trumpet, whose brazen voice rose loud and hoarse above the din of battle. Under the mistaken notion that a savage enemy, hid in a thicket, was to be dealt with as a civilized one in an open plain, he sought to recover his lost ground by forming his men BRADDOCKS DEFEAT. 193 into companies and battalions ; which, however, he had no sooner done, than they were mowed down by the murderous fire from the ambush, that had never ceased. "My soldiers," said he, "would fight, could they but see their enemy ; but it is vain to shoot at trees and bushes." Whereupon Washington urgently besouffht him to let his resrulars fight the Indians in their own fashion, which would the better enable them to pick off the lurking foe with less danger to their own safety. But Braddock's only answer to this was a sneer ; and some of his regulars, who were already acting upon the suggestion, he angrily ordered back into the ranks, calling them cowards, and even striking them with the flat of his sword. He then caused the colors of the two regiments to be advanced in different parts of the field, that the soldiers might rally around their separate standards. It was all in vain. In his excitement, he cheered, he entreated, he swore, he stormed : it was only a waste of breath ; for the poor fellows were too disheartened and broken, too overcome by mortal fear, to rally again. Col. Washington, seeing that the day was on the point of being lost, galloped down to the rear to see if nothing could be done with the artillery ; but he found the gimners in a most disorderly plight, benumbed with terror, and utterly unable to manage their guns. What Washington did on this occasion, I had better teU you in the words of an old Penn- sylvania soldier, who was there at the time, and 194 THE FARMER BOY. survived the battle for half a hundred years or more ; and used often, for the entertainment of your Uncle Juvinell and other little boys, to fight his battles over again as he sat smoking in liis chimney comer. " I saw Col. Washington," he would say, " spring from . his panting horse, and seize a brass field-piece as if it had been a stick. His look was terrible. He put his right hand on the muzzle, his left hand on the breech ; he pulled with this, he pushed with that, and wheeled it round, as if it had been a plaything : it furrowed the ground like a ploughshare. He tore the sheet-lead from the touch-hole ; then the powder-monkey rushed up with the fire, when the cannon went off, making the bark fly from the trees, and many an Indian send up his last yell and bite the dust." This, however, gave the savages but a momentary check, as he could not follow it up ; there being no one by ready and willing to lend him a helping hand. The Virginia rangers and other provincial troops, who had done the only good fighting of the day, were thinned out to one-fourth their number ; and the few that remained were too weary and faint to hold out loncjer ao^ainst such fearful odds. Between the well-aimed firing of the enemy and the random shooting of the regulars, the slaughter of the English officers had been frightful : out of the eighty-six who went into the battle, only twenty-four came oflf beaddock's defeat. 195 unhurt. Gen. Braddock had five horses killed under him. By this time, he had given up all hope of regaining the day ; and, galling as it must have been to his proud spirit, was at last forced to think of retreating as their only chance of safety. Just as he was on the point, however, of giving orders to this eiFect, a bullet — said by some to have been a random shot from one of his own soldiers — passed through his arm, and, lodging itself in his lungs, brought liim to the ground, mortally wounded. His officers placed him in a tumbrel, or pioneer's cart, and bore him from the field, where, in his despair, he prayed them to leave him to die. Seeing their leader fall, a fresh panic seized the army. And now followed a wild and disorderly rout, the like of wliich was never known before, and has never since been known, in our border-wars. The soldiers in front fell back on those in the centre ; those in the centre fell back on those in the rear : till foot and horse, artillery and baggage, were jammed and jumbled together, making a scene of dismay and confusion it would be vain for me to attempt to describe. To add wings to their speed, the Indians, with a long, loud yell of fiendish triumph, now rushed from their ambush, and, bran- dishing aloft their murderous tomahawks, began to press hard on the heels of the terrified fugitives. The better to elude their savage pursuers, the regu- lars threw away their arms, the gunners abandoned 196 THE FARMER BOY. their guns, and the teamsters cut their horses from the traces, and, mounting them, fled, never halting until they reached Col. Dunbar's camp, — a gallop of forty miles. A few fell under the tomahawk before the farther bank of the river could be gained. Here, luckily for the survivors, the Indians gave over the pursuit, in their eagerness to plunder the slain, and gather what else of booty might be found on the field. Thus ended this bloody battle, or rather slaughter ; for in truth it could be called nothing else. Of the sixteen hundred valiant men who had that morninG:, in all the bright array of gleaming arms and waving banners, marched along the banks of that beautifid river, nearly one-half, ere the sun went down, had fallen on Braddock's Hill. What made this disaster more shameful still was the weakness of the enemy's force, which did not exceed eight hundred, of whom only a fourth were French ; and, of all this number, scarcely forty fell in the fight. Col. Washington was now ordered to ride back with all speed to Dunbar's camp, to fetch horses, wagons, and hospital-stores for the relief of the wounded. Although still quite weak from his ten days' fever, which indeed had left him with no more strength than should have sufficed for the fatigues of - that trying day, yet he set out on the instant, and, taking with him a guard of grenadiers, travelled the livelong night. What with those terrible sights and ^'^' BR ADDOCK'S DEFEAT. 197 sounds still ringing in his ears, and flasliing before his eyes ; what with the thought of the many dead and dying that lay on the lonely hillside far behind, with their ghastly upturned faces, more ghastly still in the light of the moon ; and what with the bitter, bitter reflection, that all this would never have been but for the pride and folly of a single man, — that ride through the dark and silent woods must have been a melancholy one indeed. He pushed on, without leaving the saddle, till late in the afternoon of the following day, when he reached Dunbar's camp ; and gathering together, without loss of time, the neces- saries for which he had been sent, started on his return that same night, scarcely allowing himself and men an hour for food and rest. Early next morn- ing, he met the main division at Mr. Gist's plantation, whither they had dragged their shattered lines the evening before. From thence they all went on together to the Great Meadows, where they arrived that same day, and halted. For the four and twenty hours following the,battle, Braddock had remained sad and silent ; never speaking except to say, " Who would have thought it ? " The second day, he seemed more cheerful ; for he said, " We shall better know how to deal with them another time." He spoke in high praise of the skill and courage shown by the Virginia rangers and other pro- vincial troops during the whole engagement. He now saw, but too late, and to his deep regret, that he had 198 THE FARMER BOY. not given these rough and hardy men half the credit due them as good soldiers ; and also that he had made a fatal mistake in underratino: the strenirth, skill, and address of the enemy he had been sent there to subdue. To Wasliing-ton he made a frank and manly apology for the contempt and impatience with which he had so often treated his pmdent and well-timed counsel. As if wishinc: to make still further amends for tliis, he bequeathed to him liis faithful negro servant, Bishop, and liis fine white charger, both of whom had helped to carry their wounded master from the field. On the fourth day after the battle, he died; having been kindly and tenderly cared for by Wasliington and his other surviving officers. They dug him a grave by the roadside, not a stone's-throw from Fort Necessity, in the depths of that lonely wilderness ; and there, before the summer morn had dawned, they buried him. In the absence of the chaplain, the funeral service was read by Washington, in a low and solemn voice, by the dim and flickering light of a torch. Fearing lest the enemy might be lurking near, and, spjang out the spot, commit some outrage on his remains, they fired not a farewell shot over the grave of their unfortunate general, — that last tribute of respect to a departed soldier, and one he had himself paid, but a short time before, to a nameless Indian warrior. So there they laid him ; and, to this day, the great BR.VDDOCKS DEFEAT. 199 highway leading from Cumberland to Pittsburg goes by the name of Braddock's Road. I would, my dear children, have you dwell on these glimpses of a more manly and generous nature that brightened the closing hours of Braddock's life ; because it is but Christian and just that we should be willing to honor virtue in whomsoever it may be found. With all his self-conceit and obstinacy, he had a kindly heart, and was a brave man ; and had it been his lot to deal with a civilized enemy, instead of a savage one, he would, no doubt, have proved himself a skilful general. And we should not deal too harshly with the memory of a man, whose faults, however great they may have been, were more than atoned, for by the inglorious death he died, and by " a name ever coupled with defeat." XVII. EXPLANATIONS. HERE, again, Uncle Juvinell paused in his story, and looked beamingly around on his little audi- tors. They were all sitting with their eyes bent earnestly on the burning logs, thinldng deeply, no doubt, and looking as sober as tombstones in the light of a spring morning. All on a sudden, Willie leaped from his chair, and gave a shrill Indian war-whoop, that threw the whole bevy into a terrible panic ; making some of the smaller fry scream outright, and even Uncle Juvi-^ nell to blink a little. " There," said the youngster, *^ is sometliing to ring in your ears for weeks hereaf- ter, and never to be forgotten even to your dying day. I heard it the other night at the Indian circus, and have been practising it myself ever since. I fancy it must be a pretty fair sample of the genuine tiling, or it wouldn't have scared you all up as it did." Where- upon Uncle Juvinell, frowning over his spectacles with his brows, and laughing behind them with his eyes, bade the young blood to pack himself into his chair again, and be civil ; at the same time threaten- [200] EXPLANATIONS. 201 ing to put him on a water-gruel diet, to bring his surpkis spirits within reasonable bounds. Then all the Httle folks laughed, not so much at what their uncle had said, as to make believe they had not been frightened in the least ; in which Willie, the cunning rogue, joined, that, under cover of the general merri- ment, he might snicker a little to himself at his own smartness. "And now, my dear children," continued the good man, " hand me the notes you have written down, that I may see what it is you would have me explain." " In five minutes' time after you began," said rattle- brained Willie, " I became so much interested in the story, that I quite forgot all about the notes, till it was too late to begin ; but I was thinking all along, that I should like to understand more clearly the dif- ference between a province and a colony, and" — "Indeed, uncle," broke in Dannie, "you made every thing so clear and plain as you went along, that I, for one, didn't feel the need of writing down a single note." "Then, Dannie," said his uncle, "that being the case, you can perhaps enlighten your cousin Willie as to the difference between a colony and a province." Had his uncle called upon him to give the differ- ence between Goo; and Mao-os;, Daniel would have made the venture. So he promptly answered, — "A province is a country, and a colony is the people of it." 202 THE FARIVIER BOY. Uncle Juvinell would have laughed outright at this answer ; but he knew it would mortify the young historian: so he only smiled, and said, — "That will do pretty well, Dannie, as far as it goes ; but it does not cover more than an acre of the ground. Now, a colony, you must know, Willie, is a settlement made by a country — called, in such cases, the mother-country — in some foreign region at a distance from it, but belonging to it; as, for ex- ample, the Enghsh colonies in America, which are separated from the mother-country, England, by the great Atlantic Ocean. A pro^dnce, on the other hand, is a similar extent of foreign territory, belong- ing to a nation or a kingdom, either by conquest or purchase or settlement ; and it may also be a divi- sion or district of the kingdom or nation itself. Thus, you see, a foreign region, settled and owned by the mother-country, may, with nearly equal propriety, be called either a colony or a province ; wliile one that belongs to a nation or a kingdom by conquest or purchase is a province, and nothing else. Thus, for example, Canada is a province of Great Britain, won from the French by conquest, as you will learn to-morrow evening. From this you may see, that although a province may, yet a colony can no more exist within the boundaries of a mother-country, than can a man live at home and abroad at one and the same time." The other children were then called on to produce EXPLANATIONS. 203 their notes. Laura said, that, after she had written two or three, she found she was losing more than she was gaining ; for, when she stopped to take down any item she wished to remember, she did not hear what came right after. Ellen chimed in with the same ; and Ned said he was not yet out of his pot-hooks, and couldn't write ; but that he was thinking all the time of getting Willie or Dannie to tell him all about it after they went to bed. So, what with this excuse, and that, and the other, not a single note was forthcoming, except a few that Master Charlie, the knowing young gentleman, had written on a very large slate, in letters quite of his own inventing, which he now laid before his uncle. To set oiF his penmanship to the best advan- tage, and couple the ornamental with the useful, he had drawn just above it a picture of Gen. Braddock, mounted on his dashing wliite charger, and waving aloft a sword of monstrous length. One unac- quainted with the subject, however, would sooner have taken it for a big baboon, geared up in a cocked hat and high military boots, with a mowing-scythe In his hand, and astraddle of a rearing donkey heavily coated with feathers instead of hair. The old gentleman's spectacles seemed to twinkle as he ran his eye over the slate ; and after making out two or three rather savage-looking s's, as many long- legged p's, a squat h or two, a big bottle-bellied h, three or four gigantic Z's, a broken-backed k or two, 204 THE FARMER BOY. a high-sliouldered ?i', a hea\y-bottomed d, and a long slim-tailed y, it struck him, at length, that speech-belt, Long Knife, knapsack, Silver Heels, wigwam, and powder-monkey, were the 'items con- cerninor which Master Charhe desired further enliojht- enment. "For information touching these matters, my dear Charles," then said Uncle Juvinell, " I will pass you over to Willie and Dannie, who, I dare say, are quite as well posted up in matters of this kind as your old uncle ; for, if I mistake not, they have just been reading Catlin's book on the Indians, and Gul- liver's Travels in Brobdionajr." "How is it," inquired Ellen, "that Washington, being the good man that he was, could have taken part in that wicked war between the French and English about a country that didn't belong to either of them, but to the poor Indians?" Now, although Uncle Juvinell was satisfied in his own mind that Washington's conduct in this matter was just what it should have been, yet, for all that, he was a little puzzled how to answer this question in a way that the little folks would rightly under- stand. " This very thing, my dear niece," replied he after a moment's pause, " grieved and troubled his mind a great deal, as you may well believe : but he knew, that, if the English did not get possession of this land, the French would ; and tliis, by increasing EXPLANATIONS. 205 the strength of the enemy, would by and by endan- ger the safety of his own native land, and even the lives and liberties of his countrymen. And he also knew that it would be far better for the spread of useful knowledge and the true religion, that all this rich country should be in the hands of some Christian people, who would make it a place fit to live in, and to be peaceful and prosperous and happy in, than that it should be left entirely to those barbarous sav- ages, who only made of it a place to hunt and to fish in, to fight and scalp, and to burn and torture each other like devils in. Besides this, it is the duty of every true patriot (and no one knew this better than he) to serve and defend the country, under the pro- tection of whose laws he has lived in peace and plenty, against all her enemies, whether at home or abroad, even should she now and then be a little in the wrong ; for, by so doing, he defends his own home and family, rights and liberty, — objects that should be as dear to him as life itself." " O uncle ! " exclaimed Ned with a start, as if he had just caught a passing recollection by the tail as it was about skedaddling round the corner, " tell me, will you? what kind of a life a charmed life is." "Really, Ned," cried Uncle Juvinell, "I am very glad that you mentioned it ; for it puts me in mind of sometliing I should have told you before, and which I might else have forgotten. This, however, is as good a time as any ; and, when you hear what I am 206 THE FAEMER BOY. now going to tell you, you will readily understand, without further explanation, what is meant when it is said of a man that he bears a charmed life about him. To do this, I must anticipate a little, or, to speak more clearly, take time by the forelock, and, going forward a little in our story, tell you of a circum- stance which your Uncle Juvinell, when a boy, often heard related by Dr. Craik, who was then an aged and venerable man. " Fifteen years after poor Braddock had been laid in his unhonored grave. Col. Wasliington, taking with him his friend Dr. Craik, went on an exploring expe- dition to the Oliio, in behalf of the brave soldiers who had served under liim at the Great Meadows, and to whom, it must be remembered, Gov. Din- widdie had promised two hundred thousand acres of the best land to be found on this great river or its branches. There was peace then along the border, and little or no danger was to be apprehended from the Indians. They travelled in a large canoe, rowed by two or three hunters ; and what with fishing in the streams (for they took with them their fishing tackle), what with hunting in the woods (for they took with them their hunting rifles) , what with camp- ing on the green shore at night (for they took with them their camp utensils) , and what with the com- fortable thought that there was not an Indian warrior within a hundred miles whose finsfcrs were itchino; for then scalps (for they took with them this and many EXPLANATIONS. 207 other pleasant thoughts besides), they had, you may depend upon it, a glorious tune. " One day, there came to their camp, at the mouth of the Great Kanawha, a party of Indians, headed by an old chief of grave and venerable aspect, who approached Washington with deep reverence, as if entering the presence of some superior being. After several pipes of tobacco had been smoked, and several haunches of venison had been eaten, — the first to show that they had come friendly, the last to show that they came hungry, — the old chief addressed Washington in a speech, which your Uncle Juvinell cannot repeat to you word for word as he heard it from the lips of the worthy old doctor ; but he well remembers the substance thereof, and will give it you as nearly as he can in the Indian style of oratory. " ' They came and told me,' began the old chief, ' that the great Long Knife was in our country ; and I was very glad. I said to them, though I be old and feeble, though the way be long, and the hills many and high, and the rivers many and wide, yet must I go and see him once more before I die ; for it is the young warrior, whom, years ago, I saw shielded from our bullets by the hand of the Great Spirit. Let the pale-faces hear my words. Fifteen sum- mers ago, when the woods and thickets were dense and green, the French and Indians went out to lay in ambus- cade for the big Enghsh general, among the Monongahela hills. I took my warriors, and Avent along, and we lay in wait together. The English were many and strong ; we were few and weak : thus we had no thought of victory in 208 THE FAE^IER BOY. our minds, but only to give our enemies a little trouble, and keep them back a while till the big French army came down from the Great Lakes. We saw the English army cross the river and come up the hill ; yet they suspected not. We saw them walk into our snare, up to the very muzzles- of our guns ; nor did they dream of danger, till our war- whoop went up, and our bullets began to fly as fast as winter hail. I saw the red-coats fall, and strew the ground like the red leaves of the woods nipped by an untimely frost, and smitten by the unseen hands of a mighty wind. The snows of eighty winters have fallenr upon my head. I have been in many a bloody battle ; yet never saw I the red life-stream run as it that day ran down Braddock's Hill from English hearts. Listen! I saw that day, among the English, a young warrior who was not an Eng- lishman. I singled him out as a mark for my rifle ; for he was tall and strong, and rode grandly, and his presence there was a danger to us. Seventeen times did I take slow and steady aim, and fire ; but my bullets went astray, and found him not. Then I pointed him out to my young men, whose eyes were sharper and whose hands were steadier than mine, and bade them bring him down. It was all in vain : their bullets glanced f^om him as if he had been a rock. I saw two horses fall under him, shot dead ; yet he rose unhurt. Then did I lay my hand on my mouth in w^onder, and bade my young men turn their rifles another M^ay ; for the Great Spirit, I knew, held that young warrior in his keeping, and that his anger would be kindled against us if we desisted not. Tbat young warrior, the favorite of Heaven, the man who is destined never to fall in battle, now stands before me. Once more mine eyes have seen him, and I shall now go away content.' EXPLANATIONS. 209 "And now, Ned, my boy," said Uncle Juvinell, after he had ended this oration, " can you tell me what a charmed life is?" " One that is bullet-proof, I suppose," replied Ned. " You don't mean to say that Washington was bul- let-proof, do you. Uncle Juve?" put in doubting Charlie. " No, not exactly that, my little nephew," replied his Uncle Juvinell ; " and yet a great deal more : for, beyond all doubt, an all- wise Providence raised up George Washington to do the good and great work that he did, and to this end 'shielded him when encompassed by the perils of battle, strengthened him when beset by the wiles of temptation, and cheered him when visited by the trials of adversity. Dr. Davis, a famous preacher of that day, seemed to have looked upon him, as did the old Indian, as one favored of Heaven ; for, in a sermon preached by him a few weeks after Braddock's defeat, he spoke of Col. Washington as 'that heroic youth, whom, he could not but hope. Providence had preserved in so signal a manner for some important service to .his country.' And now, my little folks, the clock strikes nine, and our Christmas logs burn low : so join your old uncle in an evening hymn ; then haste you to your happy beds to sleep and dream the peaceful night away." xvm. WORK IN EARNEST. HARDLY had the last clod been thrown on poor Braddock's grave, when his army was seized with a second and most unaccountable panic ; for no one could tell from whence or how it came. With those horrid yells still sounding in their ears, and those ghastly sights of blood and carnage still fresh in their memories, they fancied they heard, in every passing gust that stirred the dead leaves, warning wliispers of the stealthy approach of the dreaded enemy, and that in every waving thicket he might be lurking for them in ambush. Col. Dunbar, as next in rank, had, for the time being, taken command of the troops ; but, cowardly as the old general was rash, he shared in the general panic, and could do nothing to re-assure his men or give them a Httle confidence. So, without waiting to Ivnow by whose orders, or if by any at all, they fell to, and destroyed all the heavy baggage, baggage- wagons, and artillery ; every thing, in fact, that could hinder them in their retreat. Thus disencum- [210] WORK IN EARNEST. 211 bered, they set out in hot haste ; and after a hurried and disorderly march, or rather flight, they reached Fort Cumberland. Here Col. Washington, who had taken no part whatever in the unsoldierly proceedings just men- tioned, stopped a few days to recruit a little after the severe fatigues he had, for a week past, been called upon to undergo, while still too much enfeebled from his ten-days' fever. The first use he made of this breathing spell was to write an aflectionate letter to his much-honored mother to ease her mind of the anxiety he knew she would be feeling on his account, when rumors of the late disaster should reach her ears. He told her of his almost miraculous deliver- ance from a cruel and bloody death, in language full of gratitude to the God of battles, who had shielded him in so signal a manner, when his brave comrades were falling by hundreds around him. Writing to his brother Augustine at the same time, he wittily says, " Since my arrival at this place, I have heard a cir- cumstantial account of my death and dying speech ; and I take this early opportunity of contradicting the former, and assuring you that I have not yet com- posed the latter." When he had so far regained his strength as to enable him to travel, he betook himself once more to the peaceful shades of Mount Vernon. He re-entered at once upon his duties as Adjutant-General of the Northern District, — a post he still continued to hold, 212 THE FARMER BOY. although his connection with the regular army had ceased with the death of Braddock. But we must return for a few moments to Fort Cumberland, where we left the valorous Col. Dunbar quite out of breath from the uncommonly brisk speed, which seems to have been liis habit now and then, of getting over very rough and hilly roads. Any soldier, with a spark of manly spirit under his sword-belt, would have made a resolute stand at a place of so much importance, and held it to the death, rather than left the defenceless inhabitants exposed to the horrors of a border war. Col. Dunbar was not, by any means, the true soldier just liinted at ; and consequently did no such thing. Seeing that the sick and wounded were but so many clogs to rapid and easy motion, he resolved to leave them behind under the care of the slender garrison he had placed in the fort, who were expected to defend it against an enemy that he, with a force of fifteen hundred strong, had not the courage to face. Thus rid of liis hinderahces to the last degree of lightsomeness, he pushed on by forced marches, as if a legion of painted savages were yelling at his heels ; and never slackened speed until he found himself safe within the friendly walls of Philadelphia, where he went into comfortable win- ter-quarters wliile yet the dog-days were at their hottest. Thus basely deserted by these doughty regidars, who had been sent over so many thousand miles of WOEK m EARNEST. 213 salt water for their protection, the colonists saw with dismay the whole line of their vast frontier, from Lake Ontario to the Carolinas, open to the inroads of ■the French and their Indian alHes. In the lonof-run, however (as you shall see hereafter), two luckier mishaps than Braddock's defeat and Dunbar's retreat, that seemed at the time so fraught with evil, could not have befallen them. They were thereby taught two wholesome lessons, which they might othenvise have been a long time in learning, and without which they never could have gained their independence and made themselves a nation. The first, by proving that Brit- ish regulars were not, by any means, the never-to- be-daunted, the never-to-be-beaten, and the never- to-be-made-to-skedaddle warriors that they boasted themselves to be, and that one-half of the Americans were foolish enough to believe them to be. Thus, when the War of Independence broke out, our Revolu- tionary fathers remembered this, and were not afraid to meet the English even on such unequal terms. The second, by opening their eyes to the fact, that, as they (the colonists) could no longer look to the mother-country for protection, they must hencefor- ward rely upon their own strength and resources for their defence and safety. The people of Virginia, seeing the forlorn condition of things, were at last aAvakened to a full sense of the danger that threatened, not only their back settle- ments, but even the heart of the Old Dominion itself. 214 THE FAKVIER BOY. They therefore began to bestir themselves in right good earnest to put the province in a better pos- ture of defence ; and, to this end, resolved to send more troops into the field, raise more money, procure new arms and fresh supplies of military stores, and erect a chain of twenty block-houses, or small forts, stretching along the whole line of their frontier, from Pennsylvania to North Carolina, — a distarjce of three hundred and sixty miles. Washington's career as a* soldier had not, up to this time, been marked by any of those daring and brilliant exploits that charm and dazzle vulgar minds ; but had, on the contrary, been one unbroken train of misfortunes and disasters. Not- withstanding this, however, the confidence his coun- trymen had placed in his prudence, coin-age, ability, and patriotism, so far from having been diminished thereby, had gone on steadily gaining strength from the very beginning. They well knew, that, had the headstrong and unlucky Braddock given heed to his prudent and timely counsel, the late campaign could never have ended in the disgraceful and disastrous manner that it had. As the most flattering proof of then esteem and confidence, they now turned to him in their hour of peril, and, although he was not yet twenty-four years of age, called upon him, as wtth one voice, to take the chief command of all the forces of the province. After some deliberation, being per- suaded that it was really their earnest desire, he modestly accepted the appointment, on condition that WORK m EARNEST. 215 certain changes should be made in the mihtary, and that he should be allowed to choose liis field-officers. This was readily agreed to by the 'Virginia House of Burgesses ; who, in addition, voted him fifteen hun- dred dollars by way of compensating him for the many losses he had suffered, in horses, baggage, and money, since the beginning of the war. Accordingly, early in the autumn, he took up his headquarters at the frontier town of Winchester, beyond the Blue Ridge, in the beautifid Valley of the Shenandoah. As four great highways met here from .. as many different quarters of the country, it was a post of much importance ; and he resolved, by strongly fortifying it, to make it the rallj^ing-point of all the border. His men were all raw recruits, just taken from the plough or forge or carpenter's bench, as the case might be ; and, to render them fit for the peculiar service in which they were to be employed, it became his duty, besides training them in the regu- lar military exercises, to instruct them in the arts and stratagems of Indian warfare, or bush-fighting, as it is more aptly called. Long, however, before he was ready to take the field, the French and Indians, made daring and audacious by their great victory on the Monongahela, had crossed the mountains at several different points in great numbers, and had already begun their bloody work. The terrified and defence- less inhabitants dwelling in the distant parts of the wilderness now came flocking to the Shenandoah 216 - THE FARIVIER BOY. Valley for protection from the merciless enemy, some of them never stopping till they had passed on over to the eastern slopes of the Blue Ridge. One morning, a rumor found Its way to Winches- ter, that a large party of Indians were within twelve miles of that place, pillaging, burning, and murder- ing at a frightful rate. Straightway a great fear fell upon the inhabitants. Little children ran, and hid their faces in their mothers' aprons, crying piteously ; women ran hither and thither, screaming, and wring- ing their hands ; and broad-shouldered, double-fisted men stood stock-still, and shook in their moccasins. Washington tried to prevail upon some of his soldiers to sally out with him, and drive the enemy back from the valley ; but, being strangers to military obe- dience, not a leather-shirt of all the rabble could he get to venture beyond the ditches. When he put them in mind of what was expected of them as men and soldiers, they only answered, that, if they must die, they would rather stay there, and die with their wives and families. Having a lurking suspicion, that, after all, there might be more smoke than fire in these flying rumors, he sent out a scout to bring him some more certain tidings of the matter. In a won- derfully short time, the scout came back, pale and affrighted, with the dismal intelligence that he had, with his own ears, heard the guns and yells of the Indians not four miles distant, and that Winchester would be beset by the savages in less than an hour. WOllK IN EAENEST. 217 Whereupon Washington made another appeal to the courage and manhood of his men ; which proved so far successful, that a forlorn hope of forty finally screwed up pluck enough to follow him to the scene of danger. Moving with great caution and circum- spection, and keeping all their ears and eyes about them, the party came at length to the spot mentioned by the scout ; where, sure enough, they heard a some- w^hat scattering discharge of fire-arms, and divers outlandish noises, that bore, however, but a very slight resemblance to the terrific yells and whoops of Indian warriors. Advancing a few paces farther, a sudden turn of the road brought them in sight of two drunken soldiers, who were cursing and swearing and hallooing in a manner quite outrageous and immoral ; and now and then, by way of adding a little spice to this part of their entertainment, firing ofi" their pistols into the tree-tops. And this it was that had given rise to those wild rumors that had thrown the whole country into such a terrible panic. To this impru- dent waste of breath and ammunition, the latter of which they had but little enough to spare, Washing- ton put a rather sudden stop by ordering the lively young blades to be seized, and carried as prisoners to Winchester, where he kept them in severe confine- ment for more than a week after they had regained their sober senses. All this was ludicrous enough ; and you may be sure that Washington, although grave and dignified beyond his years, had a hearty 10 218 THE FARRIER BOY. laugh over it the first time he found himself alone with one or two of his brother-officers. In addition to his other cares, the duties of his office required him to visit, from time to time, the several forts along the frontier, to see that those al- ready finished were kept in fighting order, and give directions for the proper construction of those still under way. Now, the little garrison of forty men, that Col. Dunbar had left to hold and defend Fort Cumberland against the combined armies of the French and Indians, was commanded by a certain Dagworthy, who, pluming himself upon the king's commission as captain, refused to own the authority and render obedience to the orders of Washington, who held only a governor's commission as colonel. It will be remembered, that Washington had a similar misunderstanding with Capt. Mackay, eigh- teen months before, at the Great Meadows, touching this same question of rank between royal and provin- cial officers, which had caused him great trouble and annoyance. Matters had now come to such a pass, that a little upstart captain of forty men could set at naught the authority of the commander-in-chief of the forces of a whole province, merely because he could boast a bit of paper embellished with the king's name. This was a degradation too grievous to be longer borne by a manly, independent spirit. Though sorely vexed and annoyed, Washington had too much self- respect and prudence to make a noise about the mat- WORK IN EARNEST. 219 ter ; but he inwardly resolved, that, as soon as the coming-on of winter would oblige the Indians to re- cross the mountains to the shelter of their homes beyond, he would take advantage of the breathing spell thus allowed him to make a journey to Boston, there to submit the question for final settlement to Gen. Shirley, who had succeeded Braddock to the chief command of all the British forces in America. Accordingly, when the departure of the Indians brought the distressed inhabitants of the border the prospect of a few months' peace and quiet, he de- parted for Boston, in company with two of his brother-officers, Capts. Stewart and Mercer. Now, in those days, a journey from the Old l)ominion to the Bay City, a distance of but five hundred miles, in the depth of winter, when the roads were either deep and stiff with mire, or rough and knobby with frost, was really a greater undertaking than a voyage in a steamship from Boston to Con- stantinople would now be considered. Our young men travelled on horseback, as was the fashion of the day ; and took with them their negro servants, who, riding behind with their masters' saddle-bags and portmanteaus, and dressed in fine livery, with gold lace on their fur hats, and blue cloaks, gave quite an air of style and consequence to the Httle caval- cade. Washington's fame had long since gone before him, as was proved by the marked distinction and respect 220 THE FARMEE BOY. with which he was treated at Philadelphia, New York, and other places along the route. All were eager to behold with their own eyes the youthful hero, whose gallant conduct and wonderful escape at the defeat of Braddock had been so noised throufrhout o the Colonies ; and when we add to this his tall and commanding form, the manly beauty of his face, his dignified bearing, his rich and handsome dress, and the unequalled skill with which he managed his large and noble horse, we cannot wonder at the interest and admiration liis appearance awakened in the minds of all who saw him. r When he got to Boston, where he likewise met with a flattering reception, he lost no time in making known to Gen. Sliirley the business that had taken him thither. The justness and reasonableness of his complaints were promptly acknowledged by this offi- cer, who, to place the vexed question beyond dispute, declared, that henceforward Capt. Dagworthy and all inferior officers, holding king's commissions, should own the authority and render obedience to the orders of all provincial officers of superior rank. This, the main object of his journey, thus happily disposed of. Col. Washington set out on his return to Virginia : but, knowing that the Indian war- whoop was not likely soon to be heard in the Shenan- doah Valley, he indulged himself so far as to tarry two whole weeks at New- York City ; and for the best of reasons, as I will tell you. WORK IN EARNEST. 221 On his way to Boston, he had met here with the beautiful and accomplished Miss Phillipps, with whom he was vastly pleased ; and it .was for the nearer study of this young lady's charms, and further cultivation of her acquaintance, that our young Vir- ginia colonel was now tempted for once in his life thus to linger on his way. Nothing came of it, however, that anybody now can tell ; although the lady, you may stake your heads upon it, must and ought to have been highly flattered at being thus singled out by the young hero whose name and praise were in everybody's mouth. Perhaps his admiration never ripened into love ; and, if it did, his modesty, as in the case of the Lowland Beauty, must have hindered him from making known his par- tiality. Whatever it may have been, it is, at this late day, of little consequence ; for long before that year had passed away, with all its anxious cares, its perils and privations, and with all its train of ghastly Indian horrors, these tender sentiments had become to him nothing more than pleasant memories. XIX. DARK DAYS. IT were long to tell you, my dear clilldren, all that happened to Washington, and all that he did for the next two or three years of his life. I shall, therefore, in as brief and clear u manner as may be, present to your minds a picture simply of those scenes in which he figured as the chief actor ; although there were, it must be remembered, others who played a far more important part in this old Trench War than our young Virginia colonel. The French and Indians, early in the spring of these years, were wont to cross the mountains at different points, and for months together follow their usual programme of fire, plunder, and massacre, till the approach of winter, when, loaded with booty and scalps, they would go as they had come, only to return on the opening of the following spring. With these cruel savages, and their scarcely less cruel white allies , neither age nor sex found mercy ; old men, tender women, and helpless children, alike falling victims to their murderous tomahawks and scalping-knives. Farms were laid waste, crops de- [222] DAEK DAYS. 223 stroyed, cattle butchered ; and often, for days and nights together, the smoke could be seen in many directions at once, as it rose from burning barns and dwellings, and hung like a pall over the ill-fated land. At last, so great became the audacity of these pestilent savages, that they carried their depredations within cannon range of the very walls of Winchester ; and, under their destroying hand, the rich and beau- tiful Valley of the Shenandoah seemed likely soon again to become a waste and desert place. It was a boast of theirs, that they could take any fort that could be fired ; and round these places of refuge they would skulk and lurk with the greatest patience for a week at a time, quite content could they but get a single shot at such of the garrison as dared to show themselves beyond shelter of the walls. Some- times, suddenly darting from their hiding-place, they would pounce upon little children playing in the w^oods, and, in fidl view of the fort, bear them away captives, never more to be seen by their bereaved parents, who could only listen in helpless anguish to the piteous cries of their little innocents, that grew fainter and fainter as their savage raptors hurried them farther and farther into the gloomy depths of the wilderness. Often, in their excursions along the frontier, "Washington and his men would come upon the still smoking ruins of a happy home, or the hacked and mangled body of an unfortunate traveller who had 224 THE FARMER BOY. been waylaid and murdered by the Indians in some lonely mountain glen. In after-life, the recollection of these harrowino; scenes was to Washino^ton so painful, that he could but seldom be brought to speak of them. Now and then, however, he would relate to a few friends some of these dark expe- riences ; among which is the following, given in his own words, as a fair example of all the rest : — " One day," said he, " as we were traversing a part of the frontier, we came upon a small log-house, standing in the centre of a little clearing, surrounded by woods on all sides. As we approached, we heard the report of a gun, — ■ the usual signal of coming horror. Our party crept cautiously through the underwood, until we had approached near enough to see what we had already foreboded. A smoke was slowly making its way through the roof of the house ; when, at the same time, a party of Indians came forth, laden with plunder, — consisting of clothes, house- hold furniture, domestic utensils, and dripping scalps. We fired, and killed all but one, who tried to get away, but was soon overtaken and shot down. Upon entering the hut, there met us a sight, which, though we were familiar with scenes of blood and massacre, struck us — at least myself — with feehngs more mournful than I had ever experienced before. On a bed, in one corner of the room, lay the body of a young woman, swimming in blood, with a gash in the forehead that almost separated the head into two parts. On her breast lay two little babes, less than a twelvemonth old, also with their heads cut open ; their innocent blood, that had once flowed in one common vein, now minjrlino: in ^ DO DARK DAYS. 225 the same current again. I was inured to scenes of blood- shed and misery ; but tliis cut me to the heart ; and never in my after-life did I raise my arm against a savage, with- out calling to mind the mother and her little twins with their heads cleft asunder. On examining the tracks of the Indians to see what other murders they might have com- mitted, we found a little boy, and, a few steps forward, his father, both scalped, and both stone-dead. From the prints of the boy's feet, it seemed that he had been follow- ing the plough with his father, whom he had probably seen shot down ; and, in attempting to escape, had been pursued, overtaken, and murdered. The ruin was complete : not one of the family had been spared. Such was the character of this miserable warfare. The wretched people of the frontier never went to rest without bidding each other fare- well ; for the chances were they might never wake again, or wake only to find their last sleep. When leaving one spot for the purpose of giving protection to another point of exposure, the scene was often such as I shall never forget. The women and children would cling around our knees, and mothers would hold up their little babes before our eyes, begging us to stay and protect them, and, for God's sake, not leave them to be butchered by the savages. A hundred times, I declare to Heaven, I would have laid down my life with pleasure under the tomahawk and scalping-knife, could I, by the sacrifice, have insured the safety of these suffering people." The little folks can vrell imagine how scenes like these must have pained and wrung a heart like Wash- ino^ton's. But what could he do? His whole force 10* 226 THE FARMER BOY. did not exceed one thousand fighting men ; with which he had to man more than twenty forts, and guard a frontier of nearly four hundred miles' extent. In addition to this, his men had been so scattered all the while at these different points, as to have placed it altogether beyond liis power to give that attention to their military training which he had had so near at heart when he first entered upon his command. It naturally followed, then, that there was among the greater number an almost total want of order and discipline. They came and went when and where it suited their humor best ; were impatient of control ; wasted their ammunition, of which there was a great scarcity, in target-shooting ; were far more ready to trouble their officers with good advice than aid them by prompt obedience to orders ; and, if their sagacious counsels went unheeded, they would, without more ado, shoulder their rifles in high dudgeon, and tramp home. And, withal, so tender were they of what they were pleased to call their hmior, that they would take it as quite an insult to be put on soldiers' rations ; and were too proud or lazy — which with them was the same thing — to carry their own provisions while on the march ; choosing, rather, to risk what chance might bring them, in the shape of bullocks, sheep, or pigs, which they would knock down, without a "By your leave " to the owner, and, after eating as much as satisfied their present hunger, would throw the rest away. Thus, between their wasteful defenders DAEK DAYS. . 227 and their wasting invaders, the poor distressed in- habitants were brought to the verge of starvation. The forts were too far apart to prevent the Indians from passing between ; and the garrisons were too weak to lend each other aid when any of them chanced to be in hard, besetting need. This plan of giving defence to the border had been strongly- opposed by Washington, who foresaw the disad- vantages just hinted at, and had urged the exact contrary. This was, instead of having so many small forts, with but a handful of men in each, to fortify Winchester in the completest manner possible, with a view of making it the only stronghold and rallylng- point of all the border, and to be manned by the main body of the troops, who were to give support to the smaller parties in their excursions against the enemy. Long before the war was ended, it was clearly to be seen, that, had this plan been adopted, much useless expenditure of money and shedding of blood would have been avoided. As it was, the cunning and watchful foe, whose motions were swift as the birds, and secret as death, could pass between these forts, not only unopposed, but even unobserved, and, without let or hinderance, lay waste the country for the protection of which they had been built. Under this most melancholy state of things, all the region west of the Blue Ridge was fast becoming the dreary and silent wilderness it had been In days gone by. Scarcely a shadow of its former population was 228 . THE FARMER BOY. left : some had fled to the forts for reftige ; some had resettled in the eastern parts of the province ; some had been carried away into cruel captivity ; and many, very many, had met with a horrible death at the hands of the merciless invaders. As if all this we have just related were not enough to try the patience and fortitude of young Washington, evil reports, injurious to his character, and charging him with being the author of all these failures and calamities, were set agoing by secret enemies at home. Foremost among these, you will be surprised and sorry to learn, was Gov. Dinwiddie, who had for some time past regarded with a jealous and envious eye this rising hope of the land, and was now seeking, by a variety of imderhand means, to have him disgraced from the service, that Col. Innez, a particular chum of his, might be advanced to the chief command of the Virginia troops instead. The lower offices of the army he was zealous to bestow upon a knot of needy adventurers, who, being Scotchmen like himself, were in high favor with him, and scrupled not to make liis likes and dislikes their own, if, by so doing, they coidd further their own private advantage. Perhaps Gov. Dinwiddie him- self may not have been the direct author of these reports ; but it is quite certain that his hungry hangers-on would never have dared whisper them had they not been fully aware of the ill-will he bore the person by whose injury they hoped to profit, and DAEK DAYS. 229 that they had but to do the thing, when their patron would not only wink at it, but even give it his secret approval. When these malicious whisperings came to the ears of Washington, he was stung to the quick by such unfair and unmerited treatment. Feeling assured in his own conscience that he had done liis whole duty as far as in him lay, all his strong and manly nature was roused to indignant anger, that his fair name should thus become the target of these arrows flying in the dark, without an opportunity being allowed him of a fair and open hearing in his own defence. He would have left the service at once, — the very end his enemies had been plotting so hard to bring about, — had not the frontier settle- ments, just at that moment, been thi'eatened with more than usual peril ; and to have deserted his post at such a time would have given his accusers real grounds for the charges, which heretofore had been but a mere pretence. Before the immediate danger was past that kept him at his post, many of his warmest and most influential friends, residing in dif- ferent parts of the province, had written to him, \ earnestly entreating him not to think of resigning his command ; assuring him, at the same time, that the base slanders of those evil-minded men had found no place whatever in the minds of his feUow-countrymen. On the contrary, beholding the courage, patience, and humanity with which he was discharging the 230 , THE FAEMER BOY. high and sacred duties tliey had intrusted to him, they felt their love for him, and confidence in him, increasing every day. With this gratifying assurance that his conduct and motives were rightly understood by those whose approbation he was most desirous of winninof, Washino^ton now held on his course with renewed hope and spirit. Thenceforward, Gov. Dinwiddie, as if to revenge himself for this failure of his base and selfish design, never let an opportunity slip of thwarting or annoy- ing the man whose high public character his petty malice could not reach, and whose private worth his mean envy could not tarnish. His letters to Wash- ington, the tone of which heretofore had been uncivil enough, now became harsh and insolent, full of fault- finding, and bristling all over with biting reproofs and unmanly insinuations. Although wretchedly ignorant of military matters, and at a distance from the seat of active operations , yet he must needs take upon himself the full control of all the troops of the province, without seeming to trouble his mind as to what might be the wishes and opinions of him who was in fact their true leader. Whether from a spite- ful desire to perplex the object of his dislike, or natural fickleness of character, every letter from him brought with it some new plan. To-day, he ordered this ; to-morrow, he ordered that ; and, the next day, upset the other two by something quite diiferent from either : so that Wasliington was often left com- DARK DAYS. 231 pletely In the dark as to what the uncertain meddler's wishes or plans really were. At last, from being thus harassed in mind by these petty annoyances, and worn In body by the hardships of such rough service, his health failed him ; and he was advised to repair to Mount Vernon, and there remain until his disease should take a more favorable turn. Here he lay for four long, weary months, before he could rejoin his regiment ; during much of which time, his friends, who nursed and watched him, really regarded his recovery as doubtful. This Is another instance of what so often seems to us a matter of wonder, — thepower of a narrow-minded, mean-spirited, Ill-tempered, false-hearted man to inflict pain on a noble and lofty nature. A short time before the close of the war. It becoming quite certain that he had been putting public money. Intrusted to his keeping, to private or dishonorable uses. Gov. Dinwiddle was recalled, and another sent over to fill his place. Being the man here described, and a petty tyrant withal, nobody was sorry to see him go, except the needy toadies who had hung about him, and who, seeing that nothing was likely to turn up for them in the New World, packed off to Scotland with their patron, as hungry and empty-handed as they came. By the by, I must not forget to tell you of the heroic conduct of old Lord Fairfax. Greenway Court, as you no doubt remember, was In the She- 232 THE FARMER BOY. nandoali Yalley, not many miles from Winchester ; and, situated on the very edge of a vast forest, was quite open to the inroads of the Indians, any one of whom would have risked limb or life to get his bloody clutches on the gray scalp of so renowned a Long Knife. To meet this danger, as well as do his part towards the general defence, he mustered his hunters and negro servants, to the number of a hundred or thereabouts, and formed them at his own expense into a company of horse, with which the keen old fox-hunter, now as daring a trooper, scoured the country from time to time, and did good service.' XX. A NEW ENTERPRISE. AM) thus these melancholy years came and went, with all their dark and painful experiences. A firm and self-reliant spirit like Washington's, how- ever, could not be long cast down by even severer trials than those by which we have just seen his strength and manliood tested : so, from that time forward, come what might, he resolved to hold right on, nor bate a jot of heart or hope or zeal or pa- tience, till the coming-on of better days, when, God willing, he might render a good and faithful account of this, his country's trust. But the little folks must not suppose that Col. Washington and Gov. Dinwiddie were by any means the only persons of consequence who figured in this Old French War. On the contrary, there were others of far more importance at the time than they, not so much from any pecidiar merit of their own, as from the part they played in those events ; and upon whom, as such, I must needs bestow some passing notice, were it but to give to our story [233] ^'M Tin: r.vKMKK lun'. i^rontor (,'lonrnoss :uul complotonoss. A\ li:it coiu'crns viMi to know ot" tluMU nt |irosont 1 will briiMlv sum up in a tow wonls, nuil uiako it as plain to vou as :i taMo ot" siniplo adilitiou. As (\)uuuauilor-in-i'hiot' oi' all tho Urilisli tbrocs in AnuM'ica, Hrai](K>ok, as I havo told you olsowhoiv, >vas suihhhhUhI In (Jon. 8hirlov ; who, pn>\ in*:,- liini- solt* unilt tor the ]>1:uh\ was soon iwalKnl, anil Lt>nl lj(nuli>un sont i>vor tVoni Knglaud instoail : who, JMHH ini;" hinisolt' 0([uallv untit, was iloalt with in tho sanio niannor, and (ion. Ahoronnnhio sent over in- stead : who alsi>, j>rovinii" hintsolt' inoonipotont, was also iwallod, and (Jen. Amherst sent over; who, jiroviui:; a wiser ehoiee, there tolloweil happier re- 8idts ; and it tell to him, and to the hrave yoimg ovueral, AN'olte, his next in rank, to bring this loui; and Irksome war, in due eourse ot" tiuu\ to a glo- rii>us end. Aitei' the tailure ot' Hraddoek's desii:;ns aii'ainst Fort Ihupuv^ne, the eiunpu\> baek the pesti- lent savjiges and their pestilent white allies troni his long line ot'troutier in the South and West, some of these leaders with their red allies, and some ot' the Freneh leailers with their red allies, were, with vari- ous tort lines and uiistbrtunes on either side, earrvini;* A NEW F.NTKIilMIISR. 2.'^5 on the war along tlic })or(lers of the great Lake Onta- rio, the little Laken Chani[)]aln and George, and up and down the mighty St. Lawrence. Of these English leaders, I will mention Lord Londoun merely, as being the only one with whom AVnsliington had any special dealings. Had this nohknnan come up to the hopes and expectations which many of tlie colonists were at first wild enough to,