First Settlers of the Valley—Sandy Creek Expedition—Indian Irruption—Measures of Defence—Habits of Virginians—Washington and Dinwiddie—Congress of Governors—Dinwiddie succeeded by Blair—Davies' Patriotic Discourse.
The inhabitants of tramontane Virginia are very imperfectly acquainted with its history. This remark applies particularly to that section commonly called the Valley of Virginia, which, lying along the Blue Ridge, stretches from the Potomac to the Alleghany Mountains. Of this many of the inhabitants know little more than what they see. They see a country possessing salubrity and fertility, yielding plentifully, in great variety, most of the necessaries of life, a country which has advantages, conveniences, and blessings, in abundance, in profusion, it may almost be said in superfluity. But they know not how it came into the hands of the present occupants; they know not who were the first settlers, whence they came, at what time, in what numbers, nor what difficulties they had to encounter, nor what was the progress of population. One who would become acquainted with these matters must travel back a century or more; he must witness the early adventurers leaving the abodes of civilization, and singly, or in families, or in groups composed of several families, like pioneers on a forlorn hope, entering the dark, dreary, trackless forest, which had been for ages the nursery of wild beasts and the pathway of the Indian. After traversing this inhospitable solitude for days or weeks, and having become weary of their pilgrimage, they determined to separate, and each family taking its own course in quest of a place where they may rest, they find a spot such as choice, chance, or necessity points out; here they sit down; this they call their home—a cheerless, houseless home. If they have a tent, they stretch it, and in it they all nestle; otherwise the umbrage of a wide-spreading oak, or mayhap the canopy of heaven, is their only covering. In this newfound home, while they are not exempt from the common frailties and ills of humanity, many peculiar to their present condition thicken around them. Here they must endure excessive labor, fatigue, and exposure to inclement seasons; here innumerable perils and privations await them; here they are exposed to alarms from wild beasts and from Indians. Sometimes driven from home, they take shelter in the breaks and recesses of the mountains, where they continue for a time in a state of anxious suspense; venturing at length to reconnoitre their home, they perhaps find it a heap of ruins, the whole of their little peculium destroyed. This frequently happened. The inhabitants of the country being few, and in most cases widely separated from each other, each group, fully occupied with its own difficulties and distresses, seldom could have the consolation of hoping for the advice, assistance, or even sympathy of each other. Many of them, worn out by the hardships inseparable from their new condition, found premature graves; many hundreds, probably thousands, were massacred by the hands of the Indians; and peace and tranquillity, if they came at all, came at a late day to the few survivors.
"Tantæ erat molis—condere gentem."
Here have been stated a few items of the first cost of this country, but the half has not been told, nor can we calculate in money the worth of the sufferings of these people, especially we cannot estimate in dollars and cents the value of the lives that were lost.[489:A]
In the year 1756 took place the "Sandy Creek Expedition" against the Shawnees on the Ohio River. With the exception of a few Cherokees, it consisted exclusively of Virginia troops, under the conduct of Major Andrew Lewis.[489:B] Although this expedition proved in the event abortive, yet its incidents, as far as known, are interesting. Nor are such abortive enterprises without their useful effects: they are the schools of discipline, the rehearsals of future success. The rendezvous from which the expedition started was Fort Frederick, on New River, in what was then Augusta County. Under Major Andrew Lewis were Captains William Preston, Peter Hogg, John Smith, Archibald Alexander, father of Rev. Dr. Archibald Alexander, Breckenridge, Woodson, and Overton. Their companies appear to have been already guarding the frontier when called upon for this new service. There were also the volunteer companies of Captains Montgomery and Dunlap, and a party of Cherokees under Captain Paris. A party of this tribe had come to the assistance of the Virginians in the latter part of 1755, and they were ordered by Governor Dinwiddie to join the Sandy Creek Expedition; but whether they all actually joined it is not known. The war leaders of these savages were old Outacité, the Round O, and the Yellow Bird. Captain David Stewart,[490:A] of Augusta, seems to have acted as commissary to the expedition. The whole force that marched from Fort Frederick amounted to three hundred and forty. While waiting to procure horses and pack-saddles, the soldiers were preached to by the pioneer Presbyterian clergymen of the valley, Craig and Brown. Major Lewis marched on the eighteenth of February, and passing by the Holston River and the head of the Clinch, they reached the head of Sandy Creek on the twenty-eighth. This stream was found exceedingly tortuous; on the twenty-ninth, they crossed it sixty-six times in the distance of fifteen miles. Although some bears, deer, and buffaloes were killed, yet their provisions began to run low early in March, when they were reduced to half a pound of flour per man, and no meat except what they could kill, which was very little. There being no provender for the horses, they strayed away. The march was fatiguing, the men having frequently to wade laboriously across the deepening water of the river; they suffered with hunger, and starvation began to stare them in the face. The Cherokees undertook to make bark canoes to convey themselves down the creek, and Lewis ordered a large canoe to be made to transport the ammunition and the remaining flour. The men murmured, and many threatened to return home. Lewis ordered a cask of butter to be divided among them. An advance party of one hundred and thirty, with nearly all of the horses, proceeded down the creek, Lewis with the rest remaining to complete the canoes. No game was met with by the party proceeding down the stream, and the mountains were found difficult to cross. Hunger and want increased, and the men became almost mutinous. Captain Preston proposed to kill the horses for food, but this offer was rejected. About this time some elks and buffaloes were killed, and this relief rescued some of the men from the jaws of starvation. The advance party had now, as they supposed, reached the distance of fifteen miles below the forks of the Sandy. Captain Preston, who commanded it, was greatly perplexed at the discontents which prevailed, and which threatened the ruin of the expedition. The men laid no little blame on the commissaries, who had furnished only fifteen days' provision for what they supposed to be a march of three hundred miles. Major Lewis preserved his equanimity, and remarked that "he had often seen the like mutiny among soldiers." On the eleventh of March ten men deserted; others preparing to follow them, were disarmed and forcibly detained, but some of them soon escaped. They were pursued and brought back. When Major Lewis rejoined the advance party, one of his men brought in a little bear, which he took to Captain Preston's tent, where the major lodged that night, "by which," says Preston, "I had a good supper and breakfast—a rarity." Major Lewis addressed the men, encouraging them to believe that they would soon reach the hunting-ground and find game, and reminded them that the horses would support them for some time. The men, nevertheless, appeared obstinately bent upon returning home, for they said that if they went forward they must either perish or eat horses—neither of which they were willing to do. The major then, stepping off a few yards, called upon all those who would serve their country and share his fate, to go with him. All the officers and some twenty or thirty privates joined him; the rest marched off. In this conjuncture, when deserted by his own people, Lewis found old Outacité, the Cherokee chief, willing to stand by him. Outacité remarked, that "the white men could not bear hunger like Indians." The expedition was now, of necessity, abandoned when they had arrived near the Ohio River, and all made the best of their way home.
It appears to have required two weeks for them to reach the nearest settlements, and during this interval they endured great sufferings from cold and hunger, and some who separated from the main body, and undertook to support themselves on the way back by hunting, perished. When the main body reached the Burning Spring, in what is now Logan County, they cut some buffalo hides, which they had left there on the way down, into tuggs or long thongs, and ate them, after exposing them to the flame of the Burning Spring. Hence Tugg River, separating Virginia from Kentucky, derives its name. During the last two or three days, it is said that they ate the strings of their moccasins, belts of their hunting-shirts, and shot-pouch flaps. The art of extracting nutriment from such articles is now lost.
"The Sandy Creek Voyage," as it was sometimes styled, appears to have been directed against the Shawnee town near the junction of the Kanawha and the Ohio, and perhaps to erect a fort there. The conduct of the expedition was left almost entirely to the discretion of Major Lewis.[492:A] Washington predicted the failure of the expedition, on account of the length of the march, and even if it reached the Ohio, "as we are told that those Indians are removed up the river into the neighborhood of Fort Du Quesne."[492:B]
Old Outacité, or the Man-killer, was in distinction among the Cherokee chiefs, second only to Attacullaculla, or the Little Carpenter. Outacité attained a venerable age, and continued to be a steadfast friend of the whites. At the massacre committed near Fort Loudoun, by his interposition he rescued many from destruction.
Early in April, 1756, another Indian irruption, led on by the French, spread consternation in the tramontane country, and threatened to exterminate the inhabitants. Washington, now aged twenty-four, gave it as his opinion that "five hundred Indians have it more in their power to annoy the inhabitants than ten times their number of regulars." While the unhappy people were flying from the barbarous foe, Washington, in view of the inadequate means of protection, wrote to Governor Dinwiddie: "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." In this sentence we find the key to his whole character and history.
The governor immediately gave orders for a re-enforcement of militia to assist him. The "Virginia Gazette," however, cast discredit and blame on Washington and the force under his command. Virginia continued to be too parsimonious and too indifferent to the sufferings of her people beyond the mountains. The woods appeared to be alive with French and Indians; each day brought fresh disasters and alarms. Washington found no language expressive enough to portray the miseries of the country. Affording all the succor in his power, he called upon the governor for arms, ammunition, and provisions, and gave it as his opinion that a re-enforcement of Indian allies was indispensable, as Indians alone could be effectually opposed to Indians. Winchester, incorporated in 1752, was now almost the only settlement west of the Blue Ridge that was not almost entirely deserted, the few families that remained being sheltered in forts. West of the North Mountain the country was depopulated, save a few families on the South Branch of the Potomac and on the Cacapehon. About the close of April the French and Indians returned to Fort Du Quesne laden with plunder, prisoners, and scalps.