J*^ 4 o ^ ••• "oV 1^ c«V. ^o i^ vv y .>v^v -^Z /ji^'v %.♦* .»! the ocean, and of which any may be in fact that which is represented in the following lines in fancy. An extract from the poem, in four cantos, entitled "Jumonville," written by M. Thomas, a member of the French Academy, and published in 1759, is given in the Appendix to this volume, q. v. Upon a mountain's height, there is a spring. From which, in a continuous course and long, The waters, in a rill, no stronger than The little stream that issues from the heart, Flow on and on unto the sea, and thence Around about the great air-girdled globe, Until the world is washed in the pure flood, That rises, when its work is done on earth, To gleam an arch of glory in high heaven ! Upon this mountain's height, there is a heart, From which, in a continuous course and long. The red blood, in a rill, no stronger than The little stream that issues from the spring. Flows on and on unto the sea of war, And thence about the great air-girdled globe, Until the world is foul with human blood. That sinks beneath the slain into the earth To glare a red flame in the fires of hell ! 36 FORT NECESSITY — BRADDOCK's FIELD, Thus side by side, there are on every height Two streams that issue, as two equal rills. And flow unto the sea and thence around About the great air-girdled globe, until, Look where or when you will, and, Christ behold ! The arch of heaven is revealed alone In a reflection of the fires of hell ! — l75i— The next step in the progress of the war between France and England, was the surrender of Major Wash- ington, at Fort Necessity, July ord, 1754, to the brother of Jumonville, the fiery Conlon-Villiers, or, as he was known for his prowess, ie Grand VilUers. In the his- tory of Washington, this event is remarkable for two reasons: it was his fii'st and last surrender; and it taught him never to sign a paper of the signification of which he was ignorant, that he might not confess a sec- ond time to the " assassination " of Jumonville. The outlines of this fort may be traced at the present day, at the Great Meadows, in Fayette county. In Fort Necessity — well chosen word ! — The bravest of the brave gives up his sword : To yield again, but with his parting breath, In Fort Necessity once more, to Death. — 1755 — BRADDOCK'S FIELD. The next event in the history of Southwestern Penn- sylvania, to be referred to in this volume, is the expedi- tion, under the command of Major General Edward Braddock, in 1755, for the reduction of Fort Duquesne, and the ever memorable defeat of the English army on the 9th of July, at a fording of the Monongahela, nine miles from its destination. In the annals of America, this battle stands perhaps unparalleled for slaughter. The English army, with a loss in killed and wounded of more than two-thirds, and the i-emainder routed in a BRADDOCK S FIELD. wilf'erness, virtuallj' was annihilated. The expedition y>nd the battle, however, require a volume rather than a prologue to a poem for their presentation. The scene of this memorable conflict presents one of the most remarkable industrial expositions to be found on the continent. From the bluflf overlooking the val- ley, are to be seen in one view three several lines of rail - waj', with trestle-work, river bridge, and tunnel ; the IMonongahela river, with lock and dam, steamboats, coal-fleets, rafts, etc. ; on the hillsides, the mouths of the coal-pits, and, descending the steeps to the tipples at the waters edge, the railway inclines; in the vallej^ the magnificent plant of the Edgar Thomson Steel Works, and besides the varied works of the industrial town of Braddock near by — the only monument to the memo- ry of the ill-starred British general. Tlie observer of the scene cannot refrain from contrasting it with that of the 9th of July, 1755. Where the oak. with the weight and the weak- ness of ac^e, With a thunder-crash fell in its struggle with death, While the storm and the wild-fire lay crouching to rage, And the forest primeval in awe held its breath ; "^ There the apple-tree stands with a low bending bough. That the school bay on tiptoe may pluck the red fruit, To sit, with closed book, and eat, wondering how The red blood of Braddock has come from the root. Where the proud army waded the broad rip- pling river, At the mid-summer ford on the soft sandy bar, While the flattering flood, with its glitter and quiver, f Kedoubled their strength and the glories of war ; There the staunch steamboat flies in the dam- deepened pool, f 38 braddock's field. Overstepped by the stride of a great railroad bridge, Where the fisher-boy sits and calls Braddock a fool For keeping the river and leaving the ridge, t Where the jaded hacks || strained in the soft, yielding mud, And down the steep bank backward tumbled and rolled, While dragging the wagons of war from the flood — The cannon-balls, powder, provisions, and gold ;§ There the great iron-horse speeds by day and by night. In defiance of burden, resistance, and strain ; While the train-boy looks out, to reflect in his flight, What ! if Braddock had taken the cars to Duquesne ! Where the guns of the foe were revealed by a flash — A report — and the fall of the killed and the wounded, Till the woods were ablaze, and a deafening crash With the wail of the wounded and dying re- sounded ; There the ingot aglow is drawn out to a rail, While the coflee-mill crusher bombs, rattles, and groans, And the water-boy hurries along with his pail. Saying, Braddock be blowed ! he's a slouch to Bill Jones \^ Where the cannon of Braddock were wheeled in- to line. And swept through the forest with shot and with shell — But woe to the Briton ! in vain they combine braddock's field. 39 The thunder of heaven and the lightning of hell ! There the turning converter, while roaring with flame, Pours out cascades of comets and showers of stars. While the pulpit-boy, goggled, looks into the same — Thinking little of Braddock and nothing of Mars. Where the womb of the earth opened, teeming with life, When the Redmen, begrimed with their pow- der and paint, Their guns laid aside for the hatchet and knife, Victorious rushed on the dying and faint ! There the coal-cavern yawns on the sloping hill- side. And the miner begrimed with the coal-dust and soot. His barrow and pick and his lamp laid aside, Comes out of the pit his employer to shoot ! Where the whoop and the shout of the Redmen and French Resounded exultant and wild through the wood. From the gully which formed their invisible trench. To the great river turbid with mud and with blood ; There the " Gospel of Peace and Good Will to Mankind," Is preached in the pulpit and practiced — I While the valley resounds with "Umbrellas to Mend ! " "Potatoes ! " "Old Clo'es ! " "I am blind ! " "Milk! "and "Glass!" 40 braddock's field. Where the bears** with the flesh uf the Halkets were full, While the wolves in their wrangling rent Shir- ley in twain ; Where the crows pecked the eyes out of Spen- delow's skull, And the maggots waxed rounded in Hamil- ton's brain ; There the churchman partakes of the sanctified bread, And his son devours melons in spite of the cramp, While his daughter at ten takes her breakfast in bed, And his dog at the gate tries the leg of a tramp ! W^here the bones of the Britons from white turned to brown, As they lay in the shade of the forest for years, Unburied, unknown — till his sire to a son, By the gold in the tooth of a bared skull appears ! "j"!" There the bones of the dead — of the high and the low, In ground consecrated are buried in state — Crape, carriages, silver — a service — a show ! — Till the school-girl inters in a cheese-box her cat! Where the battle of Braddock was fought in the wood. Till the bullet of Fawcett jj revengefully sped. To dip in the proud, haughty general's blood, And number him first in the list of the dead ; There nothing remains to remind of the same, But an oxidized bullet dug up by a clown, . The oak where the Halkets fell — that and a Name To mock at the mu^e in the toil of a town ! BRADDOCK S FIELD. 41 Tu mock at the muse in the toil of a town ? Nay ; but for a moment, and then to inspire — To cleanse of the concrete, like time and renown, And brighten the abstract in poesie's fire ; Till the Battle of Braidock's the Battle of Life, And the conflict of yore is repeated to-day — Or continued the same in the spirit of strife, With alone the form changed of the battle array. Every Heart is a Braddock at war in a thicket. Beset with invisible Redmen and French, Awaiting the time when recalled is the picket And Error and Pride stumble into the trench ; Every Heart is a Halket — both father and son — In an army where Chance utters Braddock's command, Till the Fawcett of Fate comes behind with his gun, And a tooth in a skull tells alone of The End ! * A startling phenomenon of the forest is the falling, when the air is still, of a great oak that has withstood the storms of centuries. It is a token of the approach of a storm. As the air lightens, the impalpable but none the less potent props, by which the tree is sup- poi-ted, are removed, and the tree falls, accordingly, crushed by its own weight. t In after life, Washington was accustomed to ob- .serve that he had never seen elsewhere so beautiful a sight as was exhibited during this passage of the Mo- nongahela. Every man was attired in his best uniform ; the burnished arms shone bright as silver in the glis- tening rays of the noonday sun, as, with colors waving proudly above then* heads, and amid inspiring bursts of martial music, the steady files, with disciplined precis- ion, and glittering in scarlet and gold, advanced to their position. 1 This is the popular comment with respect to the course which Braddock pursued. Sargent writes, " The perils of the [river] route were self-evident ; there- fore abandoning all idea of pursuing it, he started on the morning of the 7th, and leaving the Indian track 42 BKADDOCK's. FIELD. which he had followerl so Ions, essayed to work his way across Turtle Creek some twelve miles above its conflu- ence witli the Monongahela r a step which, )iad it been carried out, would have ensured his success. He wouki then undoubtedly have sat down before the fort Mith little or no opposition on iiis way. But the fates were against him." !| "There was vile management here," Washington truly said, with respect to the hoi-ses with which the army of Braddock was supplied. To have mounted .Jack Falstaff 's men, they would have been in keeping, ? Among his munitions of war, Braddock is said to have had -£25. 000' in specie. The search for this treasure supposed to have been buried along the line of retreat, is continued to this day. See the following poem. *:. For why? God wot, Braddock never, at asingle jump on the level, cleared a distance of thirty-one feet, nine inches and an eighth, as this worthy carries a tape- line in his picket in proof that he did, on one occasion, when it becrame necessary, in the very building referred to, to prove an alibi beneath a falling roof! Besides,' Braddock was defeated and is dead; whiie Jones has never been w^hipped, and is the life of the country for miles around him; and long may he continue so ! •* " It is said that for some time after Braddock's de- feat, the bears having feasted on the slain, thought they had a right to eat every human being with whom they met.'"— Doddridge's Xotes,\:> 21. tt The skeleton of Sir Peter Halket, interlocked wnth that of a son, was identified by an artificial tooth. When the mournful discovery was made by Major Hal- ket a s.on and brother, he fainted in the arms of his comrades. The tree, pointed out as the one beneath which the Halkets fell, is entitled to little consi