“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 this 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 where my proceedings are justified by my instructions; nor will I, unless they execute what they threaten, and blow out our brains.”[45]
WASHINGTON’S HEAD-QUARTERS AT NEWBURGH.
Washington was at Winchester, gathering troops for the new expedition. The savages were ravaging the frontier, murdering travellers, burning farm-houses, butchering and scalping the inhabitants. They had even crossed the western ridge of the Alleghanies and penetrated the valley of the Shenandoah. Even the baronial home of Lord Fairfax was menaced by them. Greenway Court, as his stately mansion was called, was surrounded by the majestic forest, where the savages, in large numbers, could gather unseen. The scalp of his lordship would be considered by them an inestimable trophy. His friends urged that he should abandon the place and take refuge in some of the lower settlements. The British nobleman, with spirit characteristic of his race, replied to his nephew, Colonel Martin, who was urging this measure:
“I am an old man, and it is of but little importance whether I fall by the tomahawk or die of disease and old age. But you are young, and, it is to be hoped, have many years before you; therefore decide for us both. My only fear is that, if we retire, the whole district will break up and take to flight; and the fine country, which I have been at such cost and trouble to improve, will again become a wilderness.”
It was decided to remain, and convert Greenway Court into a sort of fortress, garrisoned by the slaves of Lord Fairfax, and his numerous other retainers. Aid could also be speedily summoned from Winchester. Washington, at Winchester, organized a band of Americans familiar with forest life, and explored the hiding places in the mountains and valleys in search of the prowling bands of savages.
The panic at Winchester was dreadful. Every hour brought its tale of horror. Only twenty miles from the town, in the Warm Spring Mountain, a scouting party of the English was attacked by the savages, all on horseback. The captain and several of the soldiers were shot down. The rest were put to flight by the victorious Indians. It was daily expected that the town would be attacked. All looked to Washington as their only protector. The consternation of the women was dreadful. They came to him, with their children in their arms, and implored him to save them from the savages. The heart of Washington was often wrung with anguish. He wrote to Governor Dinwiddie:
“I am too little acquainted with pathetic language to attempt a description of this people’s distress. But what can I do? I see their situation. I know their danger and participate their sufferings, without having it in my power to give them further relief than uncertain promises.
“The supplicating tears of the women, and 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.”
Washington himself was bitterly assailed. Every outrage inflicted by the Indians was charged to his neglect or incompetency. His sensitive nature was stung to the quick. His situation was indeed deplorable. He derived neither honor nor emolument from his command. He was shut up in a frontier town, surrounded by savage hordes, whose ravages his feeble band could by no means arrest. He declared that nothing but the imminent danger of the times prevented him from resigning his command. His friend Mr. Robinson, Speaker of the House of Burgesses, wrote to him: