ON THE FRONTIER.

Washington’s advice to Colonel Dunbar was: “Reorganize and march upon Duquesne. That fort can be captured by strategy.”

“I can do nothing with an army so demoralized as this,” replied Dunbar. “We may as well consider this campaign ended. Our force is now too much reduced to capture Duquesne.”

“Nevertheless I believe that this defeat may be turned into victory,” added Washington. “At any rate I am not in favor of utterly abandoning the attempt.”

“Better that than to make a second attempt and fail,” retorted Dunbar. “I do not propose to remain and see the remnant of my army annihilated.”

“What, then, will you do?”

“Strike my tents and repair to Philadelphia and go into winter quarters,” answered Dunbar.

“Go into winter quarters before dog-days have fairly set in!” exclaimed Washington, surprised by the suggestion. “What will the people of our country say to that?”

“They may say what they please,” said Dunbar. “The risk is too great for me to assume under the circumstances, and I decide to go into camp in Philadelphia.”

“Then there is no alternative for me but to return to Williamsburg,” added Washington, perfectly satisfied that Dunbar was too much of a coward to be intrusted with the command of an army.

Colonel Dunbar acted accordingly; struck his tents, and, under the impulse of his excessive fear, hurried his troops off to Philadelphia. Washington regretfully and sorrowfully marched the Virginia force back to Williamsburg. News of the disaster had reached that place before his arrival, causing great excitement and sorrow; but when the people looked upon his shattered and diminished force, their hearts were touched, and their fears greatly augmented. Nor did they attach blame to Washington; on the other hand, the sentiment was universal that, but for his bravery and skill, Braddock’s army would have been well nigh annihilated.

Governor Dinwiddie immediately called together the Assembly to consider what could be done in the crisis. In the meantime he conferred with Washington respecting the way of retrieving their loss.

“Raise a force of two or three thousand men,” said Washington, “and reduce Fort Duquesne as soon as possible. Under the flush of this victory the French will urge the Indians on to devastation and carnage throughout the frontier. A speedy, bold, successful attack upon the fort will prevent such a calamity.”

“I had not thought of that,” answered the governor, “but it is a sensible view of the matter to take. We must protect the country against Indian depredations if it be possible.”

“Or we are in a far worse condition than ever,” interjected Washington. “You know what the Indians are under the excitement of victory; savages in the worst sense of the word.”

“And there will be no mercy shown to the defenceless settlements and the scattered families of the frontier,” added the governor. “All the horrors of Indian massacre and outrage will be witnessed in our country.”

Governor Dinwiddie canvassed the whole subject with Washington, so that he was prepared to make definite suggestions to the Legislature when that body convened. He advised them to raise two thousand troops and make a liberal appropriation of money, “to carry the war into Africa,” on the ground that otherwise the enemy would be emboldened to prosecute an aggressive war.

When the Legislature assembled, leading members opposed aggressive warfare, and advised only defensive operations on the frontier. So they voted to raise a thousand troops only, and appropriated money accordingly, a very great disappointment to Washington and those who took the same view of the situation that he did. At the same time Washington was appointed commander-in-chief of the Virginia forces, with the unusual power of appointing his own field officers and aide-de-camp and secretary. This was on the 14th of August, 1755.

On a former page we said that expeditions against the French and Indians at Niagara and Crown Point were planned at the same time the expedition against Duquesne was determined upon. Both of these expeditions failed. They started from Albany, N.Y., the first under the command of Governor Shirley of Massachusetts; the other under William Johnson, an Irishman, who was on intimate terms of friendship with the most powerful chiefs of the Six Nations. When these two expeditions were fairly under way, news of the disastrous defeat of Braddock reached them, and completely demoralized the troops. The Indians, who were always inclined to join the winning side, deserted the ranks, and many white soldiers followed their cowardly example. The expedition under Johnson accomplished something in another direction; but both expeditions failed, so far as the proposed reduction of Niagara and Crown Point was concerned.

“A fatal mistake!” remarked Washington to Mr. Fairfax. “Such timid measures are just suited to encourage the enemy.”

“It cannot be otherwise,” answered Fairfax. “To provide just enough men to make a good target, and just enough money to pay for shooting them down, is very poor policy, in my judgment.”

“When it comes to actual service,” continued Washington, “there will not be over seven hundred reliable soldiers for fighting. To defend three hundred and sixty miles of frontier with this small force is next to impossible. To mass them in one locality will leave other localities exposed; and to divide them up into squads, and scatter them over the whole distance, is arranging them for the enemy to readily cut them off one after another.”

“A bloody work, that infuriated savages will enjoy,” remarked Mr. Fairfax. “The more I think of it, the more I shrink from the contemplation of the horrible butchery that will probably follow this serious mistake of the government.”

“Yet I accept my appointment, lest a refusal be misconstrued,” continued Washington. “But I have served so long with inadequate support by the government, followed by disasters, that I had hoped for the most liberal provisions now.”

“And they should have been freely granted,” added Mr. Fairfax.

“No one can be more sensible of my failures than I am,” Washington remarked with his usual modesty. “If an old proverb will apply to my case, I shall certainly close with a share of success, for surely no man ever made a worse beginning than I have. Still, I want a fair chance to redeem my fortunes if I can.”

In September Washington established his headquarters at Winchester, beyond the Blue Ridge, in the beautiful valley of the Shenandoah. It was a frontier town, one hundred and forty miles northwest of Richmond. He found the people of the town under great alarm in consequence of frequent reports of depredations by French and Indians. The town was crowded with men, women, and children, who had fled from their homes in the wilderness to this place for protection, on hearing that the Indians were on the war-path. Many of these reports were exaggerated, and others had no foundation in truth. For instance, one morning the report came that a party of Indians was within twelve miles of the town, pillaging, burning and murdering in the most terrible manner. The report filled the inhabitants with consternation, and women and children were half crazed with fear.

Washington ordered a company of soldiers to follow him in driving back the foe, but not one of them would respond. Their fears were greater than their patriotism. Suspecting that the report might be exaggerated, he sent out scouts to learn something more definite. The scouts returned in one hour with the startling intelligence, “The Indians are less than four miles away, destroying everything in their track.”

On being questioned by Washington as to the facts in the case, the scouts said, “We heard their yells and guns distinctly, and there is not a shadow of doubt but that they will fall upon Winchester within an hour.”

Washington appealed to the soldiers again, and supplemented his appeal by authority and threats.

About forty volunteered to accompany him to meet the savage foe. Moving with extreme caution and circumspection, they reached the spot where the scouts heard the yells of Indian warriors. Sure enough, they heard a kind of yell and the discharge of a musket, but nothing that indicated the presence of savages to Washington’s experienced ear. Pressing on a few rods farther, a turn of the road disclosed to Washington two drunken soldiers, cursing, yelling and carousing, and occasionally firing off a pistol into the air. He made prisoners of the two worthless fellows, who had proved the scouts to be cowards, conveyed them to Winchester, and locked them up.

This incident shows that there was little discipline among the soldiers, and little self-possession among the people. In his discouragement, Washington wrote to Governor Dinwiddie:

“In all things I meet with the greatest opposition. No orders are obeyed but such as a party of soldiers, or my own drawn sword, enforces. Without this, not a single horse, for the most earnest occasion, can be had, to such a pitch has the insolence of these people arrived by having every point hitherto submitted to them. However, I have given up none where his majesty’s service requires the contrary, and when my proceedings are justified by my instructions; nor will I, unless they execute what they threaten, that is, ’blow out our brains.’... I would again hint the necessity of putting the militia under a better regulation, had I not mentioned it twice before and a third time may seem impertinent. But I must once more beg leave to declare that, unless the Assembly will pass an act to enforce military law in all its parts, I must decline the honor that has been so generously intended me. I see the growing insolence of the soldiers, and the indolence and inactivity of the officers, who are all sensible how limited their punishments are, compared with what they ought to be. In fine, I can plainly see that under the present establishment we shall become a nuisance, an unsupportable charge to our country, and never answer any one expectation of the Assembly.... Why should it be expected from us, who are all young and inexperienced, to govern and keep up a proper spirit of discipline without laws, when the best and most experienced can scarcely do it with them? If we consult our interest, I am sure it loudly calls for them. I can confidently assert that recruiting, clothing, arming, maintaining, and subsisting soldiers who have since deserted have cost the country an immense sum, which might have been prevented were we under restraints that would terrify the soldiers from such practices.

Another trial which Washington experienced was the refusal of Captain Dagworthy, in command at Fort Cumberland, to obey his orders. Dagworthy had received his commission from the king, and he claimed that hence he was Washingtons superior, who received his commission from a provincial governor. This affair created much excitement in Washingtons command, and his officers drew up a memorial, praying him

“To appeal to General Shirley, who was commander-in-chief of all the British forces in North America, and whose headquarters are in Boston. His decision will settle the question forever.”

Washington applied to Governor Dinwiddie for permission to proceed to Boston at once for this purpose, and obtained it. Notwithstanding the deep snow and wintry weather, he started upon this mission on the 4th of February, 1756, accompanied by Captains Mercer and Stewart. They travelled on horseback the whole distance, and “took with them their negro servants, who, riding behind with their master’s saddle-bags and portmanteaus, and dressed in fine livery, with gold lace on their fur hats, and blue cloaks, gave quite an air of style and consequence to the little cavalcade.”

In New York City Washington was entertained by Beverly Robinson, a distinguished citizen, at whose house he met a very accomplished young lady, Miss Phillips, sister of Mrs. Robinson. Her many attractions captivated the young hero more than any lady friend had done since his experience with the “Lowland Beauty.” However, he did not capitulate, but bore his colors forward to Boston, whither his fame had gone before him.

He received a warm reception in Boston, such as was never accorded to so youthful an officer. His gallant conduct in saving Braddocks army from destruction, together with other deeds of heroism, known throughout the Colonies, had made him famous; and now, his tall and commanding form, the manly beauty of his face, his dignified bearing, his rich and handsome dress, and the unequalled skill with which he managed his large and noble horse, awakened admiration in the minds of all beholders.

Having procured an order from General Shirley, under which a commission from a provincial governor was as good as one from the king, Washington started upon his return journey, after remaining ten days in Boston. He stopped two weeks in New York City with Beverly Robinson, whose wife’s charming sister greatly pleased him. In her he beheld all that was beautiful in person, graceful in accomplishments, and excellent in character. There is no doubt that the young hero, who had withstood the assaults of French and Indians combined, had resolved to surrender to the bewitching charms of this damsel. But he found that a true and worthy friend of his had already captured the prize, and was exulting in the possession of her heart. Disappointed, but not cast down, he bade the charmer adieu, and hurried away.

He reached Williamsburg on the twenty-third day of March, after an absence of seven weeks. He had but just arrived when a messenger came dashing into town, the bearer of appalling news.

“The Indians are approaching Winchester in force, burning and plundering as they go!” he shouted.

“Have you any better evidence of their depredations than rumor?” inquired Washington, recalling some experiences of the past, “or do you announce what you know to be a fact?”

“The evidence of their approach and plunder is positive,” replied the messenger; “and the inhabitants are flocking into town from their pillaged and burning homes.

Washington was satisfied that the startling tidings was no false alarm, and, putting spurs to his charger, he dashed away to Winchester. His arrival reassured the terrified inhabitants and they bravely rallied to defend their homes. Everything was put upon a war basis as soon as possible. A few days passed, and Washington wrote to the governor as follows:

“However absurd it may appear, it is, nevertheless, certain that five hundred Indians have it more in their power to annoy the inhabitants than ten times their number of regulars. Besides the advantageous way they have of fighting in the woods, their cunning and craft, their activity and patient sufferings are not to be equalled. They prowl about like wolves, and, like them, do their mischief by stealth. They depend upon their dexterity in hunting, and upon the cattle of the inhabitants, for provisions.

In an interview with Mr. Fairfax, Washington remarked:

“You will recall my prophecy that our frontier will be ravaged until Fort Duquesne is captured and the French are driven from the Ohio.”

“I remember your prophecy distinctly,” replied Mr. Fairfax; “and now we reap as we sowed. We sowed to the wind, and now we are reaping the whirlwind.”

“Even now it is not too late to recover what has been lost, were the government so disposed,” continued Washington. “I do not despair only so far as those in authority fail to support military operations. The enemy has appealed to arms, and there is no alternative but to accept the challenge.”

The following extract from one of his letters to General Loudoun, who superseded General Shirley as commander-in-chief of the British forces in America, discloses the unhappy condition of affairs:

“I am too little acquainted, sir, with pathetic language, to attempt a description of the people’s distresses; but I have a generous soul, sensible of wrongs and swelling for redress. But what can I do? I see their situation, know their danger, and participate in their sufferings, without having it in my power to give them further relief than uncertain promises. In short, I see inevitable destruction in so clear a light, that unless vigorous measures are taken by the Assembly, and speedy assistance sent from below, the poor inhabitants that are now in forts must unavoidably fall, while the remainder are flying before a barbarous foe. In fine, the melancholy situation of the people, the little prospect of assistance, the gross and scandalous abuse cast upon the officers in general, which reflects upon me in particular, for suffering misconduct of such extraordinary kinds, and the distant prospect, if any, of gaining honor and reputation in the service, cause me to lament the hour that gave me a commission: and would induce me, at any other time than this of imminent danger, to resign, without one hesitating moment, a command from which I never expect to reap either honor or benefit; but, on the contrary, have almost an absolute certainty of incurring displeasure below, while the murder of helpless families may be laid to my account here. The supplicating tears of the women and moving petitions of the men melt me into such deadly sorrow that I solemnly declare, if I know my own mind, I could offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butchering enemy, provided that would contribute to the people’s ease.”

Two days afterwards, he addressed another letter to the governor, in which he said:

“Not an hour, nay, scarcely a minute, passes, that does not produce fresh alarms and melancholy accounts. Nor is it possible to give the people the necessary assistance for their defence, on account of the small number of men we have, or that are likely to be here for some time. The inhabitants are removing daily, and in a short time will leave this country as desolate as Hampshire, where scarce a family lives.

“Three families were murdered night before last, at the distance of less than twelve miles from this place; and every day we have accounts of such cruelties and barbarities as are shocking to human nature. It is not possible to conceive the situation and danger of this miserable country. Such numbers of French and Indians are all round that no road is safe; and here we know not the hour we may be attacked.”

For nearly two years Washington vainly attempted the defence of the frontier, the French and Indians all the while plundering and murdering the inhabitants in one locality while he was defending another, multiplying scenes of barbarity as only savages could. The following description of a single scene is by Washington himself:

“One day as we drew near, through the woods, to a dwelling, suddenly we heard the discharge of a gun. Whereupon, quickening our pace, and creeping up through the thick bushes to a fence, we saw what we had dreaded a party of Indians, loaded with plunder, coming out of a house, which, by the smoke, appeared as if it were just set on fire. In a moment we gave the savages a shower of rifle balls, which killed every man of them but one, who attempted to run off, but in vain; for some of our swift-footed hunters gave chase, and soon overtook and demolished him with their tomahawks. On rushing into the house and putting out the fire, we saw a mournful sight indeed: a young woman lying on the bed floated with blood, her forehead cleft with a hatchet, and on her breast two little children, apparently twins, and about nine months old, bathing her bosom with blood flowing from their deeply gashed heads! I had often beheld the mangled remains of my murdered countrymen, but never before felt what I did on this occasion. To see these poor innocents, these little, unoffending angels, just entered upon life, and, instead of fondest sympathy and tenderness, meeting their bloody deaths, and from hands of brothers, too, filled my soul with the deepest horror of sin!

“On tracing back into the corn-field the steps of the barbarians, we found a little boy, and beyond him his father, both weltering in blood. It appeared, from the print of his little feet in the furrows, that the child had been following his father’s plough; and, seeing him shot down, had set off with all his might to get to the house, to his mother, but was overtaken and destroyed.

“And, indeed, so great was the dread of the French and Indians throughout the settlements, that it was distressing to call even on those families who yet survived, but, from sickness or other causes, had not been able to get away. The poor creatures would run to meet us, like persons half distracted with joy, and then, with looks blank with terror, would tell that such or such a neighbor’s family, perhaps the very night before, was murdered, and that they heard their cries and saw the flames that devoured their house. And also, that they themselves, after saying their prayers at night, never lay down to sleep without first taking leave of one another, as if they never expected to meet again in this world. But when we came to take our leave of these wretched families, my God, what were our feelings! To see the deep, silent grief of the men, and the looks of the poor women and children, as, falling upon their knees, with piercing screams, and eyes wild with terror, they seized our hands or hung to our clothes, entreating us for God’s and mercy’s sake not to leave them to be murdered! These things so filled my heart with grief, that I solemnly declare to God, if I know myself, I would gladly offer my own life a sacrifice to the butchering enemy, if I could but thereby insure the safety of these my poor, distressed countrymen.”

Washington continued to say to the government that this terrible state of affairs would not cease until Fort Duquesne was captured; and he entreated, again and again, to be provided with an army large enough to reduce the fort. But all in vain.

Finally, near the close of the year 1757, his labors and anxieties threw him into a violent fever, and he was conveyed to Mount Vernon, where he lay for four months, sometimes so sick that his life was despaired of, all the time bearing upon his soul the responsibilities of his public position. His faithful servant Bishop, bequeathed to him by General Braddock, attended him night and day with singular devotion. It was not until April that he was able to resume his command.

When Washington returned to his headquarters at Winchester, he was unexpectedly cheered by some favorable changes. General Loudoun had been superceded by General Abercrombie, and Governor Dinwiddie had been recalled to England.