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Updated: June 25, 2025


"So we are not to stop here?" asked Peyronie, when the toast was drunk. "No," and Orme set down the glass. "The suggestion was made by Sir John St. Clair, and a council was held half an hour since to consider it. It was agreed without debate that we could not afford the delay, as the provision is running low, and so we shall press on at once." "'Tis the wiser course," said Waggoner.

At noon the preliminary observances were concluded, the assembly moved to the chapel, and the bishop of Nemours advanced to the altar to unite Raoul Boismonard du Guesclin and Thérèse Chiron de la Peyronie in the holy bonds of wedlock.

He was halted by the sentries while yet some distance off, and Colonel Washington sent for. He appeared in a moment. "Where is Lieutenant Peyronie?" he asked. "We will have need of him." "He is wounded, sir," I answered. "He was shot through the breast during the assault." Washington glanced about at the circle of faces. "Is there any other here who speaks French?" he asked.

There was Lieutenant William Poison, a Scot, who had been concerned in the rebellion of '45, and so found it imperative to come to Virginia to spend the remainder of his days, though at the first scent of battle he was in arms again. There was Ensign William, Chevalier de Peyronie, a French Protestant, driven from his home much as the Fontaine family, and who had settled in Virginia.

The operation was accordingly performed about five o'clock, and in five minutes, by La Peyronie, chief surgeon of the King, and successor to Marechal, who was present with Chirac and others of the most celebrated surgeons and doctors. The Cardinal cried and stormed strongly.

The tumbrel thundered on, over rocks and stumps of trees, over dead men, ay, and living ones, I fear, to the river-bank, where a few of the Virginia troops, held together by Waggoner and Peyronie, had drawn up. It did my heart good to see them standing there, so cool and self-possessed, while that mob of regulars poured past them, frenzied with fear.

At our council in our tent that evening, Peyronie, with invincible good humor, declared that no man could complain so long as the tobacco lasted, and in a cloud of blue-gray smoke, we gave our hastily constructed fort the suggestive name of "Fort Necessity." The morning of the third of July was spent by us in overhauling the firelocks and making the last dispositions of our men.

"Well," said Peyronie deliberately, "if it were left to me, the first thing I should do would be to cut down Spiltdorph's supply of tobacco and take away from him that great porcelain pipe, which must weigh two or three pounds." "I should like to see you do it," grunted Spiltdorph, and he took his pipe from his lips to look at it lovingly.

"What does he say?" asked Washington, seeing that Peyronie hesitated. "He says, sir," answered Peyronie, with evident reluctance, "that M. de Jumonville came in the character of an ambassador and has been assassinated." Washington flushed hotly and his eyes grew dark. "Ask M. Drouillon," he said, "why an ambassador thought it necessary to bring with him a guard of thirty men?"

Near and nearer crept the Indians, fifty or sixty of them at least, and perhaps many more, and we lay still with bursting pulses and waited. Now the foremost of them was scarce forty yards away, and suddenly, with a yell, they were all upon their feet and charging us. "Tirez, tirez!" shouted Peyronie, forgetting his English in his excitement, and we sent a volley full into them.

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