WHILE HE WAS on the road, riding to join Braddock at Frederick, Washington's mind ran on Sally Fairfax. Pausing at his Bullskin plantation, he wrote a letter to her, urging that she lighten the campaign by corresponding with him. "None of my friends," he wrote, "are able to convey more real delight than you can, to whom I stand indebted for so many obligations." 1
In his early conversations with Braddock, Washington had warned that the army could not move across the mountains as quickly as had been planned. Now, he found the General willing to admit him a good prophet. Braddock had been promised 200 wagons, 2500 horses, and copious supplies, but rarely did anything appear. He was in a rage.
"The General," the young volunteer wrote of his commander, "by frequent breaches of contract, has lost all degree of patience, and for want of that consideration and moderation which should be used by a man of sense upon these occasions, will, I fear, represent us in a light we little deserve; for, instead of blaming the individuals as he ought, he charges all his disappointments to a public supineness, and looks upon the country, I believe, as void of both honor and honesty. We have frequent disputes on this head, which are maintained with warmth on