In international diplomatic terms, the “Jumonville Affair” and its aftermath at Fort Necessity had branded the British as aggressors and Washington as an assassin. The French mood of righteous indignation was bolstered by their possession of Washington’s own journal of events during the early summer of 1754, which had been lost amid the confused evacuation of Fort Necessity and picked up by the victors. As part of the ongoing propaganda war against Britain, this was eventually published in Paris in 1756, along with other documents intended to support the French version of events.30
Before then, the journal’s contents had already stirred the wrath of none other than New France’s governor general, the Marquis de Duquesne. On September 8, 1754, he could barely control his rage when he wrote of it to Captain Contrecoeur, commanding at the Forks of the Ohio. The marquis castigated Washington as “the most impertinent of men,” who had lied “a great deal in order to justify the assassination of Sieur de Jumonville, which has recoiled upon him, and which he was stupid enough to admit in his capitulation.” Duquesne concluded on a note of wishful thinking: “There is nothing more unworthy, lower, or even blacker than the opinions and the way of thinking of this Washington! It would have been a pleasure to read his outrageous journal to him right under his nose.”31
At Williamsburg, where Washington arrived on July 17, 1754, Governor Dinwiddie quickly tried to slough off responsibility for the consequences of his brisk young protégé’s latest actions. Just as he had sought to avoid personal blame for the killing of Jumonville, he now shifted culpability for the defeat at Fort Necessity; this setback had resulted from a failure to obey his own orders to halt any offensive until all the available forces had been concentrated, he argued.32 In an attempt to redress the situation, Dinwiddie and his council now aimed to do just that, ordering Washington to unite with Colonel James Innes, who would lead a fresh strike across the Allegheny Mountains. Thoroughly disillusioned by his recent experiences, Washington protested that Virginia’s forces were totally inadequate for the job required of them, not simply numerically, but in terms of supplies, equipment, and pay. Dinwiddie’s initiative promptly stalled, and the French remained unchallenged in the Ohio Valley, their position now anchored upon Fort Duquesne at the Forks.
Washington’s bloody scrimmages had broadcast what the politicians in London and Paris already knew only too well: that the next major military confrontation between the old enemies was merely a matter of time. In a reversal of the conventional pattern, where hostilities in Europe generated shock waves that eventually triggered colonial sideshows across the Atlantic, this time North American events ignited wider conflict. Accordingly, both powers soon took action to strengthen their forces on that continent, now set to become a significant theater of operations in its own right.
As a first step, Great Britain pledged more cash and arms for colonial defense. In addition, Maryland’s governor, Horatio Sharpe, received a royal commission as lieutenant colonel to command all troops recruited locally “to oppose the hostile attempts committed by the French in different parts of His Majesty’s Dominions.”33 This was just a stopgap measure. To the politicians back in London, Washington’s recent performance had simply reinforced the prejudice against “amateur” colonials. One British veteran, the royal governor of Virginia and ambassador in Paris, William Anne, Earl of Albemarle, acknowledged that, while Washington and many other colonials possessed “courage and resolution,” they lacked “knowledge or experience” of real soldiering; in consequence, there could be “no dependence on them.” If the job was to be done properly, it would be necessary to send professional soldiers from the Old Country, “to discipline the militia, and to lead them on.”34
In November, the British Army’s captain-general, William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, authorized the dispatch of two regiments of redcoats from Ireland, the 44th and the 48th Foot, and the raising of two more in the colonies themselves. These regulars were intended to provide the disciplined kernel of manpower around which an ambitious new strategy aimed at crushing French ambitions in North America, and “to secure, for the future, His Majesty’s subjects and allies in the just possession of their respective lands and territories,” could be based.35 The first step would be to drive the French from their posts on the Ohio and to secure that region for Britain with a strong fort. That done, it would be necessary to dislodge the enemy from Niagara and establish a post there that would make the British masters of Lake Ontario, so cutting communications between Canada on the St. Lawrence and Louisiana on the Mississippi. Secondary objectives were the French forts at Crown Point, at the southern end of Lake Champlain and menacing the colony of New York, and at Beauséjour, which posed a similar threat to Britain’s northernmost colony, Nova Scotia.
For Washington, the closing months of 1754 brought fresh disappointment. Rumors that the Virginia Regiment was to be placed on the British regular establishment (that is, officially adopted as a British Army unit)—raising the prospect that Washington might receive the coveted king’s commission as colonel—were cruelly dashed. Instead, the regiment was to be split up into independent companies: that meant there would be no officers ranking higher than captain, and they would of course be junior to regulars of the same rank. Accustomed to exercising command and unwilling to accept demotion from colonel, Washington promptly resigned his commission in indignation and rode home.
Governor Sharpe, along with his counterparts Dinwiddie and Arthur Dobbs in neighboring Virginia and North Carolina, now hoped to launch a winter assault against Fort Duquesne. Washington, whose experience and knowledge of the terrain was considered invaluable for such an operation, was urged to accept command of a company, an offer sweetened by assurances that he would not have to take orders from anyone he had previously commanded and would keep the honorary title of “colonel.”
Replying to Sharpe’s aide, William Fitzhugh, from Belvoir on November 15, Washington spurned this offer with contempt, drawing attention to the services he had already rendered, hazards for which he had received the official thanks of Virginia. The hollow honor of a colonel’s title left him especially irate: “If you think me capable of holding a commission that has neither rank or emolument annexed to it,” he wrote, “you must entertain a very contemptible opinion of my weakness, and believe me to be more empty than the commission itself.” For all that, Washington made it clear that a future military appointment was certainly not out of the question, stating unequivocally: “My inclinations are strongly bent to arms.”36
Momentarily putting his abiding martial ambitions to one side, Washington now turned to domestic matters. As his mother remained stubbornly ensconced at Ferry Farm, which he should by rights have inherited on his twenty-first birthday, Washington looked elsewhere for a home of his own. Mount Vernon was currently empty: Lawrence Washington’s daughter Sarah, who had been left the estate in his will, died in 1754; this made George himself heir to the estate in succession to Lawrence’s widow. As she had remarried soon after Lawrence’s death and moved away, George took her place. That December, he became squire of Mount Vernon, renting the estate, which included eighteen slaves, for an annual fee of 15,000 pounds of tobacco.
All thoughts of developing Mount Vernon were soon put on hold by the arrival of news that revived hopes of a military career under terms that even the touchy Washington was willing to consider. Although the proposed colonial expedition against Fort Duquesne had come to nothing, in February 1755, advance elements of the expected force of British regulars, commanded by Major General Edward Braddock, arrived in Virginia’s Hampton Roads. Aged sixty, Braddock had gained his first commission at fifteen. Despite this lengthy military career, his experience of combat was minimal. Braddock had been selected for the job as a faithful political adherent of Cumberland and for his abilities as an administrator and disciplinarian. Braddock’s orders from Cumberland were to assemble a substantial force of regulars and provincials and, as the first step in the ambitious strategy already agreed, to le
ad them against Fort Duquesne.
Quickly sensing a new opportunity, Washington lost no time in writing to congratulate the general on his arrival. This gambit had the desired effect: Washington’s readiness to serve, along with his established reputation and knowledge, swiftly drew an invitation to join Braddock’s “family” of personal staff. The letter came from the general’s senior aide-de-camp, Captain Robert Orme of the prestigious Coldstream Guards, who added a most flattering comment: “I shall think myself very happy to form an acquaintance with a person so universally esteemed.”37 The urbane, dashing, and sophisticated Orme, whose appearance when Washington knew him was captured in a splendid portrait by Joshua Reynolds, was exactly the kind of company that the young Virginian aspired to and epitomized his notions of martial glory. Washington emphasized his willingness to serve under Braddock as a volunteer, deploying a little flattery of his own: his zeal to join the expedition was only increased by what he knew of Braddock’s “great, good character,” and by his earnest desire to “attain a small degree of knowledge in the Military Art” under his command. Because Washington’s own business affairs required his attendance and would suffer in his absence, he asked the general’s further indulgence while he settled them and promised to call on him as soon as he reached Alexandria.38 They met there in late March 1755, and it was agreed that Washington should officially join the army at its base camp at Fort Cumberland, a new strongpoint built on the Maryland side of the Potomac near the old Ohio Company warehouse at Wills Creek.
Washington ensured that men of influence knew of his latest deed in Virginia’s defense. He broadcast his decision to serve—“without expectation of reward or prospect of attaining a command”—in letters to three of the colony’s key figures: John Robinson, the speaker of the House of Burgesses, which was frequently at loggerheads with Governor Dinwiddie; to Carter Burwell, the chairman of the Military Committee; and to the prominent landowner William Byrd III of Westover. As this selfless act would inevitably involve heavy expenses, Washington also wondered whether Virginia might see fit to give him another modest award of £50 in recompense for his personal losses during the previous campaign.39
It was not only Virginia’s power brokers whom Washington sought to impress by his return to military service in April 1755. At the end of the month, while en route to join Braddock’s army, and with the prospect of fresh dangers looming ever closer, Washington halted at his Bullskin plantation to write to Sally Fairfax. He expressed the fervent hope that she would help to ease the hardships of the campaign by corresponding with him. None of his friends, he added, were “able to convey more real delight” than Sally, to whom he stood “indebted for so many obligations.” It was only the first of several unavailing appeals he would send to Belvoir in coming months.40
On May 1, Washington caught up with Braddock and his staff at Frederick; the general had been there for more than a week, attempting to organize transport and supplies for his expedition. Two days later, when they arrived at the tiny township of Winchester, the general’s frustrations only intensified. Dinwiddie had promised that a powerful band of Cherokees and Catawbas from the Carolinas would be awaiting him there, but they were nowhere to be seen. Dinwiddie had sent a “proper person,” Christopher Gist’s Indian trader son, Nathaniel, to conduct the southern warriors to Virginia. Some 300 had actually started north, but, to Braddock’s mortification, after a few days’ march they were “diverted” by Gist’s estranged business partner Richard Pearis, who plied them with liquor and persuaded them to view Gist as an impostor without authority. Braddock was left wondering why Virginia, and not the governments of North and South Carolina—the “natural allies” of the Cherokees and Catawbas—had handled such an important affair in the first place.41
Increasingly disillusioned by the failure of the colonies to deliver the support and resources that he had expected, Braddock and his “family” of staff reached Wills Creek on May 10. That same day, Washington was formally appointed as Braddock’s third aide-de-camp, ranking after Orme and Captain Roger Morris of the 48th Foot.
During May, Braddock gradually concentrated his army of about 2,000 men, some three-quarters of them regulars from the 44th and 48th Regiments, and the independent companies of New York and South Carolina. The two redcoat battalions from Ireland had been brought up to strength by intensive recruiting within America, enjoying rich pickings among the Chesapeake’s under class of indentured servants; according to a soldier in the 48th Foot, they included unfortunates “that had been kidnapped in England and brought over here and sold to the planters.”42 The balance of Braddock’s army consisted of locally raised “provincials,” enlisted from volunteers. These were mostly recruited by Virginia, whose companies now wore coats of “blue turned up with red,” with small contingents from Maryland and North Carolina.43
In addition, Braddock’s force was accompanied by an impressive “train” of twenty-nine cannon, howitzers, and mortars manned by men of the Royal Artillery. This gleaming brass ordnance was very different from the crude iron swivel guns usually seen on the frontier, reflecting recent technological advances that would continue to characterize artillery throughout Washington’s career as a soldier and for long after. The twelve- and six-pounder guns (so designated by the weight of the shot they fired) and the eight-inch howitzers (classified from the diameter of their shells) were all mounted on field carriages fitted with limbers (detachable wheeled frames with attachment poles), to enable them to be drawn easily by teams of horses. The guns were equipped with the recently introduced elevating screw, which greatly improved accuracy. In skilled hands, such weapons were capable of surprisingly rapid fire: according to James Wood, a Royal Artillery volunteer during the War of the Austrian Succession, at a contest between the Austrian and British artillery in May 1747, he and his colleagues “fired a short 6-pounder ten times in a minute.” This seemingly incredible feat was made possible by the use of “quick-firing” ammunition, with the projectile and charge “fixed” together. Such speed came at the cost of safety, as it allowed no time for the gun barrel to be carefully sponged of any smoldering embers that might ignite the next round prematurely: at a review in the following year, Wood reported how “the gunner in ramming up the charge of one of the short sixes, it went off and blew off the arm that rammed home and the end of the ramrod struck a foot soldier in the head and killed him on the spot and wounded several others.” A more realistic rate of fire was two to three rounds a minute, keeping pace with the infantry’s musketry. Such guns could fire either solid shot or, for close-range work, canister: this was a tin case filled with musket balls that spread its contents on leaving the muzzle, like a giant shotgun. Designed to fire at higher elevation, the short-barreled howitzers were becoming increasingly popular: they could fire canister but more typically employed a hollow shell filled with gunpowder that exploded, scattering shards of metal once its fuse had burned down. Mounted on flat wooden beds, the stumpy cohorn mortars were simpler weapons, designed solely for lobbing shells during siege operations.44
Whether Braddock’s powerful artillery would ever see action remained a moot point that May, as the expedition showed no sign of leaving Fort Cumberland. Washington had been there for just five days when he received the general’s orders to ride back to Virginia’s Tidewater and collect £4,000 for the army’s use from the Crown agent John Hunter at Hampton Roads. Directing Hunter to forward a further £10,000 to Fort Cumberland inside two months, Washington was to return with the first consignment of bullion without delay.45 Braddock had entrusted his new aide with a heavy responsibility and an irksome journey across drought-hit countryside. From Winchester, Washington sent a special express messenger warning Hunter to meet him at Williamsburg with the cash. By May 22, Washington was at Claiborne’s Ferry on the Pamunkey River; there he encountered a courier from Governor Dinwiddie with the perplexing news that Hunter was away on business in the north. Thankfully, Hunter’s partner in Williamsburg was able to assemble virtually
all of the vital £4,000. Back at Winchester, where he arrived on May 27, Washington had expected to meet a troop of Virginian Light Horse to shepherd him and the gold safely to Fort Cumberland. Instead, he was obliged to make do with a less dashing escort of local militia.46
When he rejoined Braddock on May 30, Washington found the general more furious than ever at the colonies’ continued failure to deliver the promised wagons, horses, and supplies upon which his campaign depended. With the notable exception of the Pennsylvanian Benjamin Franklin, who had produced the expected vehicles, teams, and drivers, Braddock’s wrath encompassed virtually the entire colonial population, high and low, and not just the contractors actually responsible for the breaches of faith. This irked the proud Virginian Washington, who complained that Braddock looked “upon the country . . . as void of both honor and honesty.” He and the general had become embroiled in frequent disputes on the subject, “maintained with warmth on both sides.”47
Yet the relationship between the British general and his young American aide was clearly far more cordial than such wrangling suggests. Many years later, when himself an aging man, Washington gave a surprisingly balanced picture of the general: “His attachments were warm—his enmities were strong—and having no disguise about him, both appeared in full force. He was generous and disinterested—but plain and blunt in his manner even to rudeness,” Washington recalled.48
As the expedition’s acknowledged expert on North American frontier warfare, Washington was keen to impress Braddock with the need to adapt his European techniques to the irregular bushfighting he could expect to encounter at the hands of the “Canadian French and their Indians.” According to Washington’s recollection, the bluff general and his cronies were so predisposed toward “regularity and discipline” that they held their enemies in “absolute contempt.”49
This was too harsh. In fact, while still at Alexandria, Braddock had issued orders intended to relieve his men of all unnecessary equipment—their heavy buff leather shoulder and waist belts and their useless swords—and to swap their thick woolen waistcoats and breeches for lighter garments made from tough “Osnabrig” cloth. In addition, the regulation system of drill, by which a battalion of British infantry was split up to deliver its firepower in a complex sequence of numbered “platoons,” was simplified so that each of the ten companies could become a “firing” in its own right under the command of its own familiar officers. Perhaps most significantly, at a council of war at Fort Cumberland, Braddock gained his officers’ approval for proposals to secure the army while it was on the march and encamped. This would be achieved by sending out “small parties very well upon the flanks, in the front, and in the rear, to prevent any surprise which the nature of the country made them very liable to.”50
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