disappearing at intervals in the woods and returning with pheasant, wild
turkey, or mayhap a fat deer, to add to the woodland feast. At night
they would hobble their horses and leave them to graze, would eat
heartily of their own food with the grass for table-cloth and a fresh
appetite for sauce, then, wrapping their cloaks around them, would sleep
as soundly as if in their own beds at home. The story of the ride has
been written by one of the party, and it goes in much the way here
described.
The mountains were reached at length, and up their rugged sides the
party rode, seeking the easiest paths they could find. No one knows just
where this was, but it is thought that it was near Rockfish Gap, through
which the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad now passes. There are some who
say that they crossed the valley beyond the Blue Ridge and rode over the
Alleghany Mountains also, but this is not at all likely.
When they reached the summit of the range and looked out to the west,
they saw before them a wild but lovely landscape, a broad valley through
whose midst ran a beautiful river, the Shenandoah, an Indian name that
means "daughter of the stars." To the right and left the mountain-range
extended as far as the eye could reach, the hill summits and sides
covered everywhere with verdant forest-trees. In front, far off across
the valley, rose the long blue line of the Alleghanies, concealing new
mysteries beyond.
The party gazed around in delight, and carved their names on the rocks
to mark the spot. A peak near at hand they named Mount George, in honor
of George I., who had just been made king, and a second one Mount
Alexander, in honor of the governor, and they drank the health of both.
Then they rode down the western slope into the lovely valley they had
gazed upon. Here they had no warlike or romantic adventures, fights with
Indians or wild beasts, but they had a very enjoyable time. After a
delightful ride through the valley they recrossed the mountains, and
rode joyously homeward to tell the people of the plain the story of what
they had seen.
We have said nothing yet of the Golden Horseshoe. That was a fanciful
idea of Governor Spotswood. He thought the excursion and the fine valley
it had explored were worthy to be remembered by making them the basis of
an order of knighthood. He was somewhat puzzled to think of a good name
for it, but at length he remembered the shoeing of the horses at
Williamsburg, so he decided to call it the Order of the Golden
Horseshoe, and sent to England for a number of small golden horseshoes,
one of which he gave to each of his late companions. There was a Latin
inscription on them signifying, "Thus we swear to cross the mountains."
When the king heard of the expedition, he made the governor a knight,
under the title of Sir Alexander Spotswood, but we think a better title
for him was that he won for himself,--Sir Knight of the Golden
Horseshoe.
_HOW OGLETHORPE SAVED GEORGIA FROM SPAIN._
On the 5th day of July, in the year 1742, unwonted signs of activity
might have been seen in the usually deserted St. Simon's harbor, on the
coast of Georgia. Into that sequestered bay there sailed a powerful
squadron of fifty-six well-armed war-vessels, one of them carrying
twenty-four guns and two of them twenty guns each, while there was a
large following of smaller vessels. A host of men in uniform crowded the
decks of these vessels, and the gleam of arms gave lustre to the scene.
It was a strong Spanish fleet, sent to wrest the province of Georgia
from English hands, and mayhap to punish these intruders in the
murderous way that the Spaniards had punished the French Huguenots two
centuries before.
In all the time that had elapsed since the discovery of America, Spain
had made only one settlement on the Atlantic coast of the United States,
that of St. Augustine in Florida. But slow as they were in taking
possession, they were not slow in making claims, for they looked on
Florida as extending to the Arctic zone. More than once had they tried
to drive the English out of Charleston, and now they were about to make
a similar effort in Georgia. That colony had been settled, only ten
years before, on land which Spain claimed as her own, and the English
were not there long before hostilities began. In 1739 General
Oglethorpe, the proprietor of Georgia, invaded Florida and laid siege to
St. Augustine. He failed in this undertaking, and in 1742 the Spaniards
prepared to take revenge, sending the strong fleet mentioned against
their foes. It looked as if Georgia would be lost to England, for on
these vessels were five thousand men, a force greater than all Georgia
could raise.
Oglethorpe knew that the Spaniards were coming, and made hasty
preparations to meet them. Troops of rangers were raised, the planters
were armed, fortifications built, and a ship of twenty-two guns
equipped. But with all his efforts his force was pitifully small as
compared with the great Spanish equipment. Besides the ship named, there
were some small armed vessels and a shore battery, with which the
English for four hours kept up a weak contest with their foes. Then the
fleet sailed past the defences and up the river before a strong breeze,
and Oglethorpe was obliged to spike the guns and destroy the
war-material at Fort St. Simon's and withdraw to the stronger post of
Frederica, where he proposed to make his stand. Not long afterward the
Spaniards landed their five thousand men four miles below Frederica.
These marched down the island and occupied the deserted fort.
There may not seem to our readers much of interest in all this, but when
it is learned that against the fifty-six ships and more than five
thousand men of the Spaniards the utmost force that General Oglethorpe
could muster consisted of two ships and six hundred and fifty-two men,
including militia and Indians, and that with this handful of men he
completely baffled his assailants, the case grows more interesting. It
was largely an example of tactics against numbers, as will be seen on
reading the story of how the Spaniards were put to the right about and
forced to flee in utter dismay.
On the 7th of July some of the Georgia rangers discovered a small body
of Spanish troops within a mile of Frederica. On learning of their
approach, Oglethorpe did not wait for them to attack him in his not very
powerful stronghold, but at once advanced with a party of Indians and
rangers, and a company of Highlanders who were on parade. Ordering the
regiment to follow, he hurried forward with this small detachment,
proposing to attack the invaders while in the forest defiles and before
they could deploy in the open plain near the fort.
So furious was his charge and so utter the surprise of the Spaniards
that nearly their entire party, consisting of one hundred and
twenty-five of their best woodsmen and forty-five Indians, were either
killed, wounded, or made prisoners. The few fugitives were pursued for
several miles through the forest to an open meadow or savannah. Here the
general posted three platoons of the regiment and a company of Highland
foot under cover of the wood, so that any Spaniards advancing through
the meadow would have to pass under their fire. Then he hastened back
to Frederica and mustered the remainder of his force.
[Illustration: OLD SPANISH FORT, ST. AUGUSTINE.]
Just as they were ready to march, severe firing was heard in the
direction of the ambushed troops. Oglethorpe made all haste towards them
and met two of the platoons in full retreat. They had been driven from
their post by Don Antonia Barba at the head of three hundred grenadiers
and infantry, who had pushed through the meadow under a drifting rain
and charged into the wood with wild huzzas and rolling drums.
The affair looked very bad for the English. Forced back by a small
advance-guard of the invaders, what would be their fate when the total
Spanish army came upon them? Oglethorpe was told that the whole force
had been routed, but on looking over the men before him he saw that one
platoon and a company of rangers were missing. At the same time the
sound of firing came from the woods at a distance, and he ordered the
officers to rally their men and follow him.
Let us trace the doings of the missing men. Instead of following their
retreating comrades, they had, under their officers, Lieutenants
Sutherland and MacKay, made a skilful detour in the woods to the rear of
the enemy, reaching a point where the road passed from the forest to the
open marsh across a small semicircular cove. Here they formed an
ambuscade in a thick grove of palmettos which nearly surrounded the
narrow pass.
They had not been there long when the Spaniards returned in high glee
from their pursuit. Reaching this open spot, well protected from assault
as it appeared by the open morass on one side and the crescent-shaped
hedge of palmettos and underwood on the other, they deemed themselves
perfectly secure, stacking their arms and throwing themselves on the
ground to rest after their late exertions.
The ambushed force had keenly watched their movements from their
hiding-place, preserving utter silence as the foe entered the trap. At
length Sutherland and MacKay raised the signal of attack, a Highland cap
upon a sword, and in an instant a deadly fire was poured upon the
unsuspecting enemy. Volley after volley succeeded, strewing the ground
with the dead and dying. The Spaniards sprang to their feet in confusion
and panic. Some of their officers attempted to reform their broken
ranks, but in vain; all discipline was gone, orders were unheard, safety
alone was sought. In a minute more, with a Highland shout, the platoon
burst upon them with levelled bayonet and gleaming claymore, and they
fled like panic-stricken deer; some to the marsh, where they mired and
were captured; some along the defile, where they were cut down; some to
the thicket, where they became entangled and lost. Their defeat was
complete, only a few of them escaping to their camp. Barba, their
leader, was mortally wounded; other officers and one hundred and sixty
privates were killed; the prisoners numbered twenty. The feat of arms
was as brilliant as it was successful, and Oglethorpe, who did not
reach the scene of action till the victory was gained, promoted the two
young officers on the spot as a reward for their valor and military
skill. The scene of the action has ever since been known as the "Bloody
Marsh."
The enterprise of the Spaniards had so far been attended by misfortune,
a fact which caused dissention among their leaders. Learning of this,
Oglethorpe resolved to surprise them by a night attack. On the 12th he
marched with five hundred men until within a mile of the Spanish
quarters, and after nightfall went forward with a small party to
reconnoitre. His purpose was to attack them, if all appeared favorable,
but he was foiled by the treachery of a Frenchman in his ranks, who
fired his musket and deserted to the enemy under cover of the darkness.
Disconcerted by this unlucky circumstance, the general withdrew his
reconnoitering party; reaching his men, he distributed the drummers
about the wood to represent a large force, and ordered them to beat the
grenadier's march. This they did for half an hour; then, all being
still, they retreated to Frederica.
The defection of the Frenchman threw the general into a state of alarm.
The fellow would undoubtedly tell the Spaniards how small a force
opposed them, and advise them that, with their superior land and naval
forces, they could easily surround and destroy the English. In this
dilemma it occurred to him to try the effect of stratagem, and seek to
discredit the traitor's story.
He wrote a letter in French, as if from a friend of the deserter,
telling him that he had received the money, and advising him to make
every effort to convince the Spanish commander that the English were
very weak. He suggested to him to offer to pilot up their boats and
galleys, and to bring them under the woods where he knew the hidden
batteries were. If he succeeded in this, his pay would be doubled. If he
could not do this, he was to use all his influence to keep them three
days more at Fort St. Simon's. By that time the English would be
reinforced by two thousand infantry and six men-of-war which had already
sailed from Charleston. In a postscript he was cautioned on no account
to mention that Admiral Vernon was about to make an attack on St.
Augustine.
This letter was given to a Spanish prisoner, who was paid a sum of money
on his promise that he would carry the letter privately and deliver it
to the French deserter. The prisoner was then secretly set free, and
made his way back to the Spanish camp. After being detained and
questioned at the outposts he was taken before the general, Don Manuel
de Mantiano. So far all had gone as Oglethorpe hoped. The fugitive was
asked how he escaped and if he had any letters. When he denied having
any he was searched and the decoy letter found on his person. It was not
addressed to any one, but on promise of pardon he confessed that he had
received money to deliver it to the Frenchman.
As it proved, the deserter had joined the English as a spy for the
Spaniards. He earnestly protested that he was not false to his
agreement; that he knew nothing of any hidden battery or of the other
contents of the letter, and that he had received no money or had any
correspondence with Oglethorpe. Some of the general's council believed
him, and looked on the letter as an English trick. But the most of them
believed him to be a double spy, and advised an immediate retreat. While
the council was warmly debating on this subject word was brought them
that three vessels had been seen off the bar. This settled the question
in their minds. The fleet from Charleston was at hand; if they stayed
longer they might be hemmed in by sea and land; they resolved to fly
while the path to safety was still open. Their resolution was hastened
by an advance of Oglethorpe's small naval force down the stream, and a
successful attack on their fleet. Setting fire to the fort, they
embarked so hastily that a part of their military stores were abandoned,
and fled as if from an overwhelming force, Oglethorpe hastening their
flight by pursuit with his few vessels.
Thus ended this affair, one of the most remarkable in its outcome of any
in the military history of the United States. For fifteen days General
Oglethorpe, with little over six hundred men and two armed vessels, had
baffled the Spanish general with fifty-six ships and five thousand men,
defeating him in every encounter in the field, and at length, by an
ingenious stratagem, compelling him to retreat with the loss of several
ships and much of his provisions, munitions, and artillery. In all our
colonial history there is nothing to match this repulse of such a
formidable force by a mere handful of men. It had the effect of saving
Georgia, and perhaps Carolina, from falling into the hands of the
Spanish. From that time forward Spain made no effort to invade the
English colonies. The sole hostile action of the Spaniards of Florida
was to inspire the Indians of that peninsula to make raids in Georgia,
and this annoyance led in the end to the loss of Florida by Spain.
_A BOY'S WORKING HOLIDAY IN THE WILDWOOD._
We wish to say something here about a curious old man who lived in
Virginia when George Washington was a boy, and who was wise enough to
see that young Washington was anything but a common boy. This man was an
English nobleman named Lord Fairfax. As the nobles of England were not
in the habit of coming to the colonies, except as governors, we must
tell what brought this one across the sea.
It happened in this way. His grandfather, Lord Culpeper, had at one time
been governor of Virginia, and, like some other governors, had taken
care to feather his nest. Seeing how rich the land was between the
Potomac and Rappahannock Rivers, when he went home he asked the king to
give him all this land, and the king, Charles II., in his good easy way
of giving away what did not belong to him, readily consented, without
troubling himself about the rights of the people who lived on the land.
A great and valuable estate it was. Not many dwelt on it, and Lord
Culpeper promised to have it settled and cultivated, but we cannot say
that he troubled himself much about doing so.
When old Culpeper died the Virginia land went to his daughter, and from
her it descended to her son, Lord Fairfax, who sent out his cousin,
William Fairfax, to look after his great estate, which covered a whole
broad county in the wilderness, and counties in those days were often
very large. Lord Fairfax was not much concerned about the American
wildwood. He was one of the fashionable young men in London society, and
something of an author, too, for he helped the famous Addison by writing
some papers for the "Spectator."
But noblemen, like common men, are liable to fall in love, and this Lord
Fairfax did. He became engaged to be married to a handsome young lady;
but she proved to be less faithful than pretty, and when a nobleman of
higher rank asked her to marry him, she threw her first lover aside and
gave herself to the richer one.
This was a bitter blow to Lord Fairfax. He went to his country home and
dwelt there in deep distress, vowing that all women were false-hearted
and that he would never marry any of them. And he never did. Even his
country home was not solitary enough for the broken-hearted lover, so he
resolved to cross the ocean and seek a new home in his wilderness land
in America. It was this that brought him to Virginia, where he went to
live at his cousin's fine mansion called Belvoir, a place not far away
from the Washington estate of Mount Vernon.
Lord Fairfax was a middle-aged man at that time, a tall, gaunt,
near-sighted personage, who spent much of his time in hunting, of which
he was very fond. And his favorite companion in these hunting
excursions was young George Washington, then a fine, fresh, active boy
of fourteen, who dearly loved outdoor life. There was a strong contrast
between the old lord and the youthful Virginian, but they soon became
close friends, riding out fox-hunting together and growing intimate in
other ways.
Laurence Washington, George's elder brother, who lived at Mount Vernon,
had married a daughter of William Fairfax, and that brought the Mount
Vernon and Belvoir families much together, so that when young George was
visiting his brother he was often at Belvoir. Lord Fairfax grew to like
him so much that he resolved to give him some important work to do. He
saw that the boy was strong, manly, and quick-witted, and anxious to be
doing something for himself, and as George had made some study of
surveying, he decided to employ him at this.
Lord Fairfax's Virginia estate, as we have said, was very large. The
best-known part of it lay east, but it also crossed the Blue Ridge
Mountains, and ran over into the beautiful valley beyond, which the
Knights of the Golden Horseshoe had visited more than thirty years
before. This splendid valley was still largely in a wild state, with few
inhabitants besides the savage Indians and wild beasts. Before it could
be fairly opened to settlers it must be measured by the surveyor's chain
and mapped out so that it would be easy to tell where any tract was
located. It was this that Lord Fairfax asked young Washington to do, and
which the active boy gladly consented to undertake, for he liked
nothing better than wild life and adventure in the wilderness, and here
was the chance to have a delightful time in a new and beautiful country,
an opportunity that would warm the heart of any live and healthy boy.
This is a long introduction to the story of Washington's wildwood
outing, but no doubt you will like to know what brought it about. It was
in the early spring of 1748 that the youthful surveyor set out on his
ride, the blood bounding warmly in his veins as he thought of the new
sensations and stirring adventures which lay before him. He was not
alone. George William Fairfax, a son of the master of Belvoir, went with
him, a young man of twenty-two. Washington was then just sixteen, young
enough to be in high spirits at the prospect before him. He brought his
surveyors' instruments, and they both bore guns as well, for they looked
for some fine sport in the woods.
The valley beyond the mountains was not the land of mystery which it had
been thirty-four years before, when Governor Spotswood and his gay troop
looked down on it from the green mountain summit. There were now some
scattered settlers in it, and Lord Fairfax had built himself a lodge in
the wilderness, which he named "Greenway Court," and where now and then
he went for a hunting excursion.
Crossing the Blue Ridge at Ashby's Gap and fording the bright
Shenandoah, the young surveyors made their way towards this wildwood
lodge. It was a house with broad stone gables, its sloping roof coming
down over a long porch in front. The locality was not altogether a safe
one. There were still some Indians in that country, and something might
stir them up against the whites. In two belfries on the roof hung
alarm-bells, to be rung to collect the neighboring settlers if report of
an Indian rising should be brought.
[Illustration: HOME OF MARY WASHINGTON, FREDERICKSBURG, VA.
Purchased by George Washington for his mother.]
On the forest road leading to Greenway Court a white post was planted,
with an arm pointing towards the house, as a direction to visitors. As
the post decayed or was thrown down by any cause another was erected,
and on this spot to-day such a post stands, with the village of White
Post built around it. But when young Washington and Fairfax passed the
spot only forest trees stood round the post, and they rode on to the
Court, where they rested awhile under the hospitable care of Lord
Fairfax's manager.
It was a charming region in which the young surveyors found themselves
after their brief term of rest, a land of lofty forests and broad grassy
openings, with the silvery river sparkling through their midst. The buds
were just bursting on the trees, the earliest spring flowers were
opening, and to right and left extended long blue mountain-ranges, the
giant guardians of the charming valley of the Shenandoah. In those days
there were none of the yellow grain-fields, the old mansions surrounded
by groves, the bustling villages and towns which now mark the scene,
but nature had done her best to make it picturesque and beautiful, and
the youthful visitors enjoyed it as only those of young blood can.
Up the banks of the Shenandoah went the surveyors, measuring and marking
the land and mapping down its leading features. It was no easy work, but
they enjoyed it to the full. At night they would stop at the rude house
of some settler, if one was to be found; if not, they would build a fire
in the woods, cook the game their guns had brought down, wrap their
cloaks around them, and sleep heartily under the broad blanket of the
open air.
Thus they journeyed on up the Shenandoah until they reached the point
where its waters flow into the Potomac. Then up this stream they made
their way, crossing the mountains and finally reaching the place which
is now called Berkeley Springs. It was then in the depth of the
wilderness, but in time a town grew up around it, and many years
afterward Washington and his family often went there in the summer to
drink and bathe in its wholesome mineral waters.
The surveyors had their adventures, and no doubt often made the woodland
echoes ring with the report of their guns as they brought down partridge
or pheasant, or tracked a deer through the brushwood. Nothing of special
note happened to them, the thing which interested them most being the
sight of a band of Indians, the first they had ever seen. The red men
had long since disappeared from the part of Virginia in which they
lived.