adian governor, Du Quesne. Up to this time no actual blow of
war had been struck. The troops representing the hostile nations were in
presence--the guns were loaded, but no one as yet had cried "Fire." It
was strange, that in a savage forest of Pennsylvania, a young Virginian
officer should fire a shot, and waken up a war which was to last for
sixty years, which was to cover his own country and pass into Europe, to
cost France her American colonies, to sever ours from us, and create the
great Western republic; to rage over the Old World when extinguished in
the New; and, of all the myriads engaged in the vast contest, to leave
the prize of the greatest fame with him who struck the first blow!

He little knew of the fate in store for him. A simple gentleman, anxious
to serve his king and do his duty, he volunteered for the first service,
and executed it with admirable fidelity. In the ensuing year he took the
command of the small body of provincial troops with which he marched to
repel the Frenchmen. He came up with their advanced guard and fired upon
them, killing their leader. After this he had himself to fall back
with his troops, and was compelled to capitulate to the superior French
force. On the 4th of July, 1754, the Colonel marched out with his troops
from the little fort where he had hastily entrenched himself (and which
they called Fort Necessity), gave up the place to the conqueror, and
took his way home.

His command was over: his regiment disbanded after the fruitless,
inglorious march and defeat. Saddened and humbled in spirit, the
young officer presented himself after a while to his old friends at
Castlewood. He was very young: before he set forth on his first campaign
he may have indulged in exaggerated hopes of success, and uttered them.
"I was angry when I parted from you," he said to George Warrington,
holding out his hand, which the other eagerly took. "You seemed to
scorn me and my regiment, George. I thought you laughed at us, and your
ridicule made me angry. I boasted too much of what we would do."

"Nay, you have done your best, George," says the other, who quite forgot
his previous jealousy in his old comrade's misfortune. "Everybody knows
that a hundred and fifty starving men, with scarce a round of ammunition
left, could not face five times their number perfectly armed, and
everybody who knows Mr. Washington knows that he would do his duty.
Harry and I saw the French in Canada last year. They