to support them, and the
two commands were mingled in hopeless confusion. The officers spurred
their horses into the mob, and tried in vain to form the men in some sort
of order. The colors were advanced in different directions, but there was
none to rally to them, for the men remained huddled together like
frightened sheep. And all around them swept that leaden storm, whose
source they could not see, mowing them down like grain. They fired volley
after volley into the forest, but the enemy remained concealed in the
ravines on either side, and the bullets flew harmless above their heads.

At the moment I joined my company, General Braddock rode up, cursing like
a madman, and spurred his horse among the men. I could see him giving an
order, when his horse was hit and he barely saved himself from falling
under it. Another horse was brought, and in a moment he was again raving
up and down the lines.

"What means this?" he screamed, coming upon us suddenly, where we were
sheltering ourselves behind the trees and replying to the enemy's fire as
best we could. "Are you all damned cowards?"

"Cowards, sir!" cried Waggoner, his face aflame. "What mean you by that?"

"Mean?" yelled Braddock. "Damn you, sir, I'll show you what I mean! Come
out from behind those trees and fight like men!"

"Ay, and be killed for our pains!" cried Waggoner.

"What, sir!" and the general's face turned purple. "You dare dispute my
order?" and he raised his sword to strike, but his arm was caught before
it had descended.

"These men know best, sir," cried Washington, reining in his horse beside
him. "This is the only way to fight the Indians."

The general wrenched his arm away and, fairly foaming at the mouth,
spurred his horse forward and beat the men from behind the trees with the
flat of his sword.

"Back into the road, poltroons!" he yelled. "Back into the road! I'll
have no cowards in my army!"

Washington and Waggoner watched him with set faces, while the men, too
astounded to speak, fell slowly back into the open. Not until that moment
did I comprehend the blind folly of this man, determined to sacrifice his
army to his pride.

We fell back with our men, and there in the road found Peyronie, with the
remnant of his company, his face purple and his mouth working with rage.
All about us huddled the white-faced regulars,--the pride of the army,
the heroes of a score of battles!--crazed by fright, firing into the air
or at each other