University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER XLIV

DINWIDDIE'S ADMINISTRATION—MEASURES
OF DEFENSE

After the great catastrophe on the Monongahela, an emotion
of profound discouragement swept over the spirits of
the people seated along the frontiers. It was even feared that
the entire face of the country lying west of the Blue Ridge
would have to be abandoned. A movement of population
across the southern boundary line of Virginia began, and this
impulse extended even to the plantations situated in the older
divisions of the Colony. Not only did hundreds of families
desert the exposed lands adjacent to the upper waters of the
Potomac, Staunton, and James Rivers, in order to take part
in this migration, but thousands of emigrants, who shared
in some degree the same apprehensions, poured out of the
foothills of Piedmont and set their faces resolutely towards
the same regions of the Carolinas. It was said, at the time,
that, during the autumn of 1750, five thousand persons passed
over the James River by the boats of one ferry in Goochland
County alone. "Scarcely do I know a neighborhood," a
witness of this great hegira has reported, "but what has lost
some families; not idlers, vagrants, and pests of society, but
men of worth and property, whom it was evil for any community
to lose."

All candidly declared that their reason for abandoning
their homes was the insufficiency of the bulwarks raised
against the murderous inroads of the allied French and
Indians. The argument was advanced by these panic-stricken
people that, if fifty savages, as had been so often noticed,
could, without resistance, drive off two thousand cattle and

horses, and destroy all buildings standing here and there
over a wide area of country, what devastation of life and
property could not one thousand accomplish!

Mr. Davies, the eloquent Presbyterian apostle, brought all
his powerful personal influence to bear to check this exhaustive
emigration. An address which he delivered in August, 1855,
before a company of independent volunteers, who had organized
for defense, after the defeat of Braddock, created a profound
impression in the Colony. "I cannot but hope," he
exclaimed, "that Providence has raised up the heroic youth,
Colonel Washington, whom hitherto Providence has preserved
in so signal a manner, for some important service to his
country." This brave officer, whose reputation had been
increased by the reports of his gallant services in the battle
on the Monongahela, now occupied the post of commander-in-chief
of the sixteen companies which made up the Virginian
forces at this time; and under him, by his own appointment,
were serving Colonel Adam Stephens and Major Andrew
Lewis.

The General Assembly, justly alarmed by the menace to
the safety of the people which the failure of the expedition
against Fort Duquesne had created, was now in the mood to
make all the preparations required for equipping, arming, and
provisioning these troops. Winchester was the only post
situated on the western side of the Blue Ridge which had not
been entirely abandoned. Hardly a family remained of all
that had been settled beyond the North Mountains, the first
wall of the Alleghanies.

In October, 1755, Washington reached the fort and took
command of the troops which had been slowly gathering there
during several weeks. He was so much irritated by the
absence of discipline among the raw volunteers, and by his
inability, from the lax rules, to suppress the prevailing spirit
of insubordination, that he sent word to the Assembly that
he would throw up his commission unless that body empowered
him to adopt and put in force at once the strictest military

regulations. This protest was quickly effective, and he soon
breathed, by sternly repressive measures, an entirely different
spirit into the large encampment. He exhibited his thorough
knowledge of the warfare which the soldiers would have to

Old Stove in Capitol
Made by Guzaglo in England in 1770

confront by training them to the Indian method of fighting
behind trees and of laying an ambuscade. But before the
troops had completed this aboriginal drill, or could prove
their ability to carry it out in actual battle, the Indians had
retired to the Ohio River, followed by pack-horses loaded
down with plunder, and by great herds of cattle swept from
the frontier pastures.

It was of vital importance for the success of the English
cause that the friendship of the Cherokees and Catawbas
should be secured; and an embassy, composed of William Byrd
and Peter Randolph, was sent to their towns, with gifts of
various kinds to win their goodwill—at least, so far as to
induce them to join in opposing the army of the French and
their savage allies, should the valley of Virginia be invaded.
About four hundred Cherokees, Catawbas, Tuscaroras, and
Nottoways, were persuaded to march to Winchester, but, on
their way, they were guilty of as many outrages as if they
had been enemies. Only one hundred and eighty Cherokees
could be argued into remaining there; the rest soon went
back to their towns; and, in the course of this return journey
over the same ground, repeated the acts of lawlessness previously
committed. The whites, aroused to white heat by
these acts, retaliated by killing twelve or fourteen of the party;
and in resentment, the Cherokees raised the war cry along the
southern frontiers.

Washington expressed a conviction—which was universally
held by the settlers at this time—that five hundred warriors
on the warpath could inflict more damage on the inhabitants
of the country than one thousand regular soldiers. The successive
Indian raids had left a poignant feeling in his breast.
"The supplicating tears of the women and moving petitions
of the men," he declared, "melt me into such deadly sorrow
that I solemnly declare, if I know my own mind, I would
offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butchering enemy, provided
that this would contribute to the people's ease."

Early in 1756, the hope arose that an expedition despatched
against the Shawnee towns on the Ohio River would, by
striking in the rear of the predatory Indians, put a stop to
their irruptions into the frontier regions of the Colony.
Andrew Lewis took command of the troops, three hundred
and forty in number, all of whom were seasoned soldiers

from the outlying settlements of Virginia, with the exception
of the principal scouts, who had been enlisted from the Cherokee
tribe. The expedition set out from Fort Frederick situated
on New River, and passing the Holston, directed their
steps toward the head of Sandy Creek, a stream flowing
through a mountainous wilderness. For some time, they were
able to obtain an easy subsistence by killing deer and buffalo,
which were to be seen in large numbers roaming forest and
meadow; but, by March, the provisions had fallen off to such
a degree in quantity that each soldier was reduced to a ration
of half a pound of flour. Even this resource ultimately failed,
and actual starvation was only kept at arm's length by the
consumption of the meat of butchered horses. The troops at
one stage were alone prevented from turning around in their
tracks by the opportune slaughter of a few elk and buffaloes
that happened to wander across the path.

The company now divided—one hundred and thirty men
pushed on horseback down the valley of the creek, while the
remainder, under Lewis's own eye, stopped to build canoes
for the transportation of themselves and their baggage on the
waters of the stream itself. But the prospect of success
appeared now so remote, and the hardships were so rapidly
increasing in poignancy, that a mutinous spirit arose, even
in Lewis's presence. Some of the men openly deserted with
their guns in their hands, while others, who had been deprived
of them, secretly left camp without any means of securing food
as they tramped back to the nearest settlement through the
wild forests. Their commander stormed and expostulated,
but without diverting the purpose of his sullen listeners.
Finally, he stepped back from the crowed, and drawing a line
on the ground, called upon all who were willing to accompany
him further, to cross it. All the officers promptly complied,
but not more than thirty of the privates. The Cherokees, however,
remained loyal to him to a man.

This small picked body, turning their backs on their
balking comrades, started off to join the horsemen who had

proceeded some days before, ahead, and they did not halt
until the banks of the Ohio were almost in sight. Here, after
a careful consultation, it was agreed that the further penetration
of the country would be inadvisable, and the original
object of the expedition was abandoned as impracticable. In
two weeks, the entire force that had got this far had arrived
safely at their homes in the Colony. The band of deserters,
on the other hand, had passed through such a pinch of famine
that they had been reduced to the necessity of eating buffalo
thongs after softening them in the hot water of a boiling
spring which they found on the way. They were forced, by
the pangs of starvation, to consume the strings of their
moccasins, the belts of their hunting shirts, and the pouches
reserved for their shot.

The Valley of Virginia was not so thickly inhabited at this
time that, in the emergency of an Indian and French invasion
from the west, it would be able to furnish all the men who
would be needed for its successful defense. Washington had
been long convinced that the strongest barrier that could be
raised against such attacks would be a cordon of forts, situated
about fifteen miles apart, and extending all the way from
the Potomac on the north to the border of Carolina on the
south. Dinwiddie was very favorably impressed with this
plan and warmly recommended it to the Board of Trade for
adoption. By an act of Assembly in 1756, the cordon—which
had, no doubt, in the interval received the Board's approval
—was ordered to be erected, beginning on the Capon River
at the spot where it emptied into the Potomac, and running
down, like the links of a chain, to Mayo's River in the modern
Halifax County. The forts, fourteen in number, were finished
by September, for, during that month, they were inspected
by Washington in person. The structures were, respectively,
sixty feet square, with two bastions to each fort. Their garrisons
ranged from fifty men to seventy; and in no instance
did the distance from post to post exceed twenty-five miles
or fall below twelve.

In the course of the same year, Fort Loudoun was built
on the Tennessee River by Virginians, and two hundred soldiers
were stationed there to hold it, and also to overawe the
Indians occupying the surrounding region. The fort that
had been constructed at Winchester under Washington's
supervision bore the same name. This latter stronghold
contained four bastions, and also barracks for the accomodation
of a garrison of four hundred and twenty men.