, 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 little confidence. So, without waiting to know 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 disencumbered, 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 mentioned, 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 affectionate 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 deliverance 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
circumstantial 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 composed 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, 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 his 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 th