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Yellow Creek Stories

Robert W. SCHILLING

Chapter XV

Pride Goes Before A Fall

After the energetic pioneer Dutchman, Balzor KOLB, moved his family from Randolph County, Virginia, to Somerset County, Pennsylvania, in the last decade of the Eighteenth Century, this restless rolling stone certainly gathered no moss, for his next move was to the howling wilderness country north of the Ohio River. This forest land on which he finally settled was then christened as "Territorial Knox Township," in the "Eastern Division of the Territory Northwest of the Ohio River and North of the Kentucky River"—and now known to all as SectionXVI, Knox Township, in the proud Buckeye state of Ohio. This final move of Kolb’s was in the early spring of 1800, three years before the state was born and named.

Since there was no "land office" in the newly opened territory until July first of 1800, he took his land by "tomahawk claim," and from the fact that all previous marks, trails and witness tree insignia, made by the surveyors of the Seven Ranges in 1787, had been erased by the lush growth of this truly primeval forest, he made a slight mistake in locating his farm. This came about because, in accordance to the Ordinance of 1787, this same section of six hundred and forty acres on which this pioneer located was later found to be Section XVI—land that was never to be sold, but its rental and other income was to be used forever for public school purposes only.

This was the predicament in which we find this sturdy old trail blazer, who we will now know by his Anglicized name of Balzor CULP. His land was the triangular area of hill land bounded on two sides by Hollow Rock Run, and Carters Run. He built his round log cabin near the hilltop, nearby a lusty spring of water, as was the prevailing custom of that age. This cabin was erected when all the families in the present Knox township could easily have been counted on the fingers of his two hands. There were no trails, roads or bridges; sometimes the nearest neighbor, several miles distant, would be discovered by the sheerest accident, and the chances were equal that on account of language differences, one could not understand the other. It was not until September 12, 1803, that all the German speaking people in a radius of ten miles consisted of eleven families, and they organized Good Hope Church at Bowling Green, under the leadership of Johanus STOUCH who always looked after the interests of these German speaking people.

It was sometimes during the first decade following this first Lutheran deacon, Balzor Culp’s settling this firm atop of the Hollow Rock hills, that it was frequently rumored about the cabin firesides, that General Edward BRADDOCK met his death July 13, 1755, by a shot fired by Culp’s brother during the Battle of Monongahela—otherwise known as Braddock’s Defeat. There was more or less haze about the actual statement, but according to the rumor it was "Mein Bruder had den General Braddock götöted."

No matter who fired the shot, it had the silent blessing of the majority of native born loyal Americans, who knew in their hearts that had this act been done sooner, that hundreds of lives would have been saved, and probably the battle itself won. This Braddock episode was a fireside controversial subject for many years following this terrible disaster. In its discussion many otherwise solitary hours were utilized, but a question never approached with the idea of censure—only a knotty, tangle of ideas with no solution fully arrived at. Such was the story of Braddock’s humiliating defeat explained in the early days of 1800. Did the story have in it any of the golden grain of veracity, or was it all the chaff of some one’s garbled translation of this statement made in the Culp cabin? Can a logical explanation be given at this late day, as to who "finished off" the British General, from a rumor started nearly a century and a half ago? Now to the story.

The English General Edward Braddock was a completely self-willed and bountifully egotistic individual sent to America by His Royal British Government, "to move his army to the Forks of the Ohio" where Fort Duquesne had been newly erected and held by the French, and their allies the Indians, in 1750. Braddock’s full title was "Major General and Commander in Chief of all British and Colonial Forces in North America," and his order demanded him to allow no native born American officer above a Captain to command any of the troops at any time, nor seek their advice, nor follow their recommendations. George Washington was so completely ignored that he returned to his home, but Braddock feeling he might have need for him, made Washington and Aide-De-Camp, and persuaded him to go along.

Braddock seemingly always had a chip on his shoulder, was irritable, pompous, high strung, and overbearing. He had harsh words with all the leading colonial officials both state and military—even to kindly Robert MORRIS, the Pennsylvania governor, who freely supplied all his wants as needed, and as quickly as was possible in his time.

The little group of native born soldiers swallowed their pride while the great general strutted before his English Regiment, with blazing uniforms colored to outshine a peacock. The general could swear like an expert, but could he fight—thought these home spun natural born Indian fighters at whom the general would contemptuously turn up his nose when he passed them. Their valuation placed on Braddock as a general, was many times less than his contempt for them as back wood Indian widow-and-orphan makers.

As soon as Washington saw how Braddock was arranging his troops for the long march, he suggested that his Virginians would feel at home if allowed to go out in front of the army, and beat up the enemy from his hiding place, and subdue him before he could attack the army.

Braddock started his one hundred and twenty mile march westward on May 27, 1755. He first sent a large contingent of 600 axemen ahead of the army to cut a road (still known to this day by his name) and build a strong stockade fort twenty miles distance at a place called Little Meadows. He followed some days later with his three to five miles long army. This invincible army, as he thought, consisted of the 44th and 48th, Regiments of British troops he had brought with him from England, amounting to one thousand men; also thirty British sailors to help get the artillery up the mountain sides; twelve hundred provincials; a train of artillery all pieces pulled by six and eight horses each; several hundred trusted Indians with their chiefs as leaders, besides one hundred and fifty well loaded wagons, 2,000 horses and a great herd of cattle. Surely his army was colorful, his supplies bountiful, but the wise provincials saw at once that the great general had stated off on the wrong foot, and headed for disaster.

These Indians were taken along for scouts, guides and interpreters—but were never used as such, for they were snubbed and insulted so frequently, that they left Braddock and returned to their tribes in disgust.

Seven days after Braddock left his starting place at Fort Cumberland, he reached the newly built fort at Little Meadows, a place where Washington had camped the year before. Here, Braddock held a council of war, by him giving his own views and listening to none from others.

The army left Little Meadows on June 19, 1755, with a very select body of 1,400 troops. George Washington was left here, for he was suffering one of his old attacks of malaria.

Now the general instead of pushing forward rapidly as he should have done until he reached Fort Duquesne, again used his own judgment—and in the words of one of his own soldiers,

"He stopped and levelled every mole hill, halted to throw bridges across every brook, so that he made only nineteen miles in four days."

Washington rejoined Braddock’s army July 9, and it was on this day he tried to show Braddock that this was the wrong tactics—a thought never before known to the general—but Braddock would not see it, except in his own stubborn way and no other, and followed his own course of action.

He was now advised by the Secretary of Pennsylvania to keep his Indian scouts employed on the front as rangers, and especially on the flanks—a suggestion that Braddock resented with a derisive sneer.

"That your greatest danger is ambuscade, and for this you should be prepared and always on the look out."

when Braddock replied sarcastically,

"These savages may, indeed be a formidable enemy to your raw American militia; but upon the Kings Regular and disciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they should make any impression."

Even at this late date in his campaign, July 9, 1751, to show his utter contempt, when all his men knew a battle would occur any instant, if there was to be one, instead of slipping up on his enemy by stealth, he ordered the flags hoisted, the fifers and drums to blare forth their liveliest tunes—when his front ranks were met with a volley of whizzing bullets. His men immediately fell back like a torrent, while close to their heels like wolves made furious by the taste of blood came the yelling and howling enemy. The shock was complete—Braddock’s men crazed by fear. Then suddenly the yelling ceased, but their deadly work was tremendously effective. Braddock’s men stood like helpless sheep. They saw nothing to shoot at—even the officers saw no enemy.

Braddock, his bravery never questioned—rode among his troops first cursing these "frog eating French" and then the "dog eating Indians." Each time his horse was shot from beneath him Braddock’s curses proved hotter, so that by the time the fourth horse had been killed he was frantic with anger. Braddock ordered his artillery into action—eight cannon pulled by seven and nine horses each. The men manning the artillery saw nothing to fire at, but saw all their horses killed. When fresh British troops were forced into action, the relieved troops were so flustered and without judgment, that most of these new troops were killed by the old troops, in fact an eye witness in that engagement reported that two-thirds of all killed on the British side were killed by themselves.

Braddock compelled his men to remain in solid ranks, and to take no refuge behind any shelter. If he saw one of his men taking shelter he cursed him soundly and slashed him with his sword. He killed many by his own hand—many a man he killed in front of the eyes of a relative, which was furiously resented.

Braddock was losing the battle, and even the poorest soldier engaged could see the reason. George Washington at last could stand the sight no longer, for he quickly sensed the cause of Braddock’s failure. He besought Braddock on his knees to allow him to bring up his Virginia troops, and change the tide of bloody battle to victory.

Washington’s offer was met with a volley of oaths and anger from Braddock, during which the latter threatened to plunge his sword through Washington’s body.

Later, stubborn Braddock, seeing all lost, relented and allowed Washington to bring up his Virginians, when the frenzied troops of Braddock began firing on them and killed many—the British troops had lost all sense of reason.

The battle continued on into the late afternoon while the French and Indians picked off by deliberate aim so many of the British officers and men, that the carnage up to this time had never been paralleled in the history of warfare. More than half the men were killed or wounded in the three hours of utter confusion and slaughter.

About the time the sun was setting on the Western mountain tops, Braddock received a mortal wound through the chest and leg, ending in his death four days later.

It was from this moment on, that the Virginia troops had a chance to wade into the fray with vigor. The ending of Braddock, was the making of George Washington.

Washington saw that it would be annihilation unless he could hold the French and Indians back until he could organize an orderly retreat. This latter was impossible, but Washington and his provincials acted as a rear guard to cover the retreat of an army which acted like a crazed mob. The frightened troops cut the horses loose from the supply wagons and artillery, and fled the field. Had not Washington’s rear guard been active, not a single wounded man would have been saved in the mad flight.

It was with much difficulty that wounded Braddock was carried from the field. Officers still alive were offered sixty guineas to help to carry him to safety, but they only rushed past, looking for their own safety. The task of carrying Braddock from the field fell to Washington and an aid by the name of John ORMSBY…they carried him several miles before they could obtain any help. Braddock begged to be left alone to die, and seeing his request repeatedly ignored, he grabbed for a pistol from the nearest soldier’s holster—intending to shoot himself—but the soldier sensing his object, evaded his efforts.

Washington and his Virginians acted as rear guards to cover the retreat until the disorganized army had reached Col. DUNBAR.;’s camp at the top of Laurel Hill. With the first frightened soldier’s approach at Dunbar’s camp, his soldiers all fled, and did not stop until they reached Philadelphia. It was on top of Laurel Hill that Washington halted the stampede for a brief time until he had collected the wounded and stragglers; it was during this brief halt that half dead—but still stubborn Braddock ordered the destruction of all surplus ammunition, equipment and wagons and demanded that the whole outfit retreat to Fort Cumberland.

General Edward Braddock died at 8 p.m. on Sunday, July 13, 1755. He was buried near Great Meadows at night in the middle of the road, a road he had built, and still bears his name. Before he died he gave his faithful Negro slave, Billy BROWN, to Washington in memory of his kindness to him. Braddock survived his injury for four days, and on the last day he uttered his final words, "We shall know better how to deal with them another time."

With his defeat 714 men met death. Nearly fifty years after this grim episode, in 1804, roadworkers working under the supervision of Abraham Stewart plowed up the bones of General Braddock, and identified him completely by his metal military insignia.

Such is the sorrowful story of the invincible General Braddock of whom a later historian truly said, "was a general with a cast iron temper and a pipe clay brain. A man too wise to learn, until it was too late."

On October 10, 1781 Col. James BURD was moving his family to western Pennsylvania, and by chance stopped at the tavern of James FAUSETT for the night. James Fausett with his brothers Fausett, Thomas and oseph were in this fateful battle July 9, 1755. Joseph was in a very dangerous spot in this engagement, and to save his life he took refuge behind a tree. Braddock seeing this act, and being nearby, struck him to his death with his sword and soundly cursed him for his cowardice. Tom Fausett saw this frightful act close to him, and it so roused his temper that he instinctively drew his gun, took aim and shot Braddock through the chest.

"I did kill Braddock to stop this battle," said Tom Fausett twenty-six years afterwards. Was Balzor Culp’s first wife Tom Fausetts sister? In the answer lies the solution.
"Mein Bruder hat den General Braddock getöted."


 

 

Janice Garlock Donley
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