George Washington Read online

  The militia adjutancy was nonetheless prestigious and offered a useful financial return for a minimum of effort. Learning in the spring of 1752 that the office was to be split up into districts, George asked Virginia’s lieutenant governor, Robert Dinwiddie, to consider him for the adjutancy of the familiar Northern Neck. Instead, on December 13, he was commissioned adjutant for Southern Virginia, an office that carried the honorary rank of major, and yielded a handsome annual salary of £100. Allied to his Fairfax connections and accumulating landholdings, this enhanced status gave another sign that, as he entered his twenties, George Washington was a young man of ambition, keen to make a name for himself. His chance to do so came soon enough.

  At the very time that George was lobbying Robert Dinwiddie for his militia adjutancy, the governor was becoming increasingly concerned about growing French interest in the Ohio Valley, a region that Britain and France both claimed as their own. Tensions there arose from mutual concerns: the French feared that an English presence on the Ohio, or, as they styled it, “La Belle Rivière,” would hammer a wedge between New France’s two distinct and far-flung territories, Canada and Louisiana, so they determined to safeguard communications between them by constructing a cordon of forts. For their part, the English worried that the French thereby sought to hem them behind the daunting natural barrier of the Appalachians and exclude them from the valuable fur trade with the Ohio’s Indian inhabitants. While courting them as economic partners, both European powers underplayed the fact that these same tribes regarded the contested area as their own homeland and had no intention of budging.

  The Ohio’s native peoples—Shawnees, Delawares, and also Iroquois migrants known as “Mingos”—were fiercely independent. During the previous half century these Indians had been attracted to the depopulated Ohio both by its abundant game and because it offered a refuge from imperialism—not simply the imported European variety, but also that espoused by the Iroquois Confederacy. Spanning what is now Upstate New York, the Six Nations of the Iroquois regarded the Ohio region as a fiefdom, seeking to control its inhabitants through intimidation and the presence of their own envoys. By the early 1750s, however, Iroquois influence was waning, while the Ohio villagers increasingly exploited their strategically important location to trade with the French and British colonists alike.34

  Given the ongoing rivalry between Britain and France, which had already generated three major wars between 1689 and 1748, a further clash was viewed as inevitable. The likelihood that friction in the Ohio Valley would spark the next conflict was increased in 1752, when the arrival of a new governor-general of Canada, Ange de Menneville, Marquis de Duquesne, heralded the onset of a more deliberate and aggressive policy of French expansion into the contested region.35

  In the spring of 1753, Duquesne dispatched a force of 2,000 men, under Pierre de La Malgue, sieur de Marin, to build a chain of forts linking Lake Erie with the Forks of the Ohio, where the Monongahela and Allegheny Rivers join that waterway, and where modern Pittsburgh stands. By May, a first fort had been constructed at the Presque Isle portage, while a road was pushed south to another strongpoint at Fort Le Boeuf, on a branch of French Creek. With a fortified trading post already established farther south, at Venango, it required only a fort at the Forks themselves to complete the system.

  Monitoring this encroachment upon what was ostensibly Virginian territory, Governor Dinwiddie reported his concerns to the Board of Trade, the body officially responsible for colonial affairs in London. Besides his position as a British official obliged to resist French expansionism, Dinwiddie had other, more selfish reasons for seeking action: in his late fifties and with decades of experience as a British imperial administrator, he was a leading member of a group of land speculators, the Ohio Company, that aimed to erect a fort of their own at the Forks of the Ohio as a hub for trade and settlement.

  The Crown’s response, received by Dinwiddie on October 22, 1753, outlined the stance to be adopted for the future: if any person, Indian or white, erected a fort within the province of Virginia, Dinwiddie should require them to depart in peace; if that approach failed and such “unlawful and unjustifiable designs” continued, the interlopers must be driven off “by force of arms.” On no account should Dinwiddie become “the aggressor” by using troops outside “the undoubted limits of His Majesty’s province.”36

  Learning that Dinwiddie intended to warn the French, Major Washington rode to Williamsburg and volunteered to carry the letter. Dinwiddie lost no time in accepting his offer. It was the beginning of a relationship that would prove crucial for propelling George Washington on his chosen path as a soldier. The tall young Virginian and the stubby, aging Scot made an odd pair, yet they shared a determination to resist French encroachments at all costs. On October 30, Dinwiddie commissioned Washington to place himself in the midst of the escalating imperial rivalry and deliver a summons “to the commandant of the French forces on the Ohio.” Besides handing over Dinwiddie’s letter, Washington would also be responsible for calling together those local Indian leaders who were believed to be sympathetic toward Britain and securing their help. Not least, he was to gather intelligence regarding the French dispositions and intentions.37

  All this would involve a grueling round-trip across punishing terrain in the depths of winter, roaming for hundreds of miles within territory claimed by King George’s inveterate enemies. Although lacking any diplomatic or military experience, the twenty-one-year-old Washington was physically well suited to the challenges ahead. No description of his appearance in 1753 survives, but he cannot have looked very different six years later when a letter attributed to his close friend George Mercer described him as “being straight as an Indian” and “measuring 6 feet 2 inches in his stockings,” which meant that he was literally head and shoulders above most of his male contemporaries. His impressive height was balanced by a rangy and powerful physique, “padded with well developed muscles.” Broad shouldered and “neat waisted,” Washington had large hands and long legs, his strong thighs well fitted for gripping horseflesh; indeed, he was “a splendid horseman.”38 The Ohio trip would draw upon all his reserves of strength and stamina.

  Washington left Williamsburg on October 31, the very day he received Dinwiddie’s orders.39 On his way west he recruited a small, motley escort. At Fredericksburg on November 1, he was joined by a Dutchman, Jacob Van Braam, a former soldier who had recently advertised himself as a teacher of French and would serve as Washington’s interpreter in that language. After gathering supplies and horses, another fortnight’s travel by a newly constructed road brought the pair to the Ohio Company’s trading post at Wills Creek, on the boundary of Virginia and Maryland, where the Potomac nudged the foothills of the Alleghenies. There they picked up the renowned frontiersman and explorer Christopher Gist. Aged about forty-seven, the tough and resourceful Gist was the party’s essential guide and expert on Indian affairs. Another four experienced woodsmen were hired as “servitors.”

  Washington’s band set out the next day, November 15, but their progress into the wilderness was hindered by the “excessive rains and vast quantity of snow that had fallen.” It took them a week to reach the cabin of the Scottish gunsmith and Indian trader John Fraser at Turtle Creek, some ten miles from the Forks of the Ohio. Washington soon viewed the Forks themselves with his surveyor’s eye, considering the site “extremely well situated for a fort,” enjoying “absolute command” of both the Monongahela and Allegheny Rivers. In Washington’s opinion, it was certainly a far better location than that already earmarked by the Ohio Company, two miles below the Forks. There they called upon Shingas, a pro-British chief of the Delawares, inviting him to attend a council to be held at Logstown, a key Indian trading village of the Ohio Valley, situated fourteen miles farther off.

  When they reached Logstown on November 24, Washington discovered that the “Half-King,” one of the most important of the Indians that Dinwiddie had instructed him to meet, was away at his hunting cabin. The H
alf-King was Tanaghrisson, an adopted Seneca who had been appointed by the Iroquois League to uphold its dwindling authority on the Ohio. As his title made clear, Tanaghrisson’s personal authority was limited. As soon as he arrived the next evening, Washington invited him and the locally based interpreter John Davison to his tent. Washington was keen to hear the Half-King’s own account of his journey to the French fort at Presque Isle in September 1753 and his dealings with the commandant there, the sieur de Marin.

  Along with other representatives of the Ohio tribes, on that occasion Tanaghrisson had delivered a forceful warning against French expansion. In the version reported to Washington, he had not minced his words, articulating concerns common to many Indian tribes:

  Fathers, both you and the English are white. We live in a country between, therefore the land does not belong either to one or the other; but the Great Being above allowed it to be a place of residence for us; so Fathers, I desire you to withdraw, as I have done our brothers the English, for I will keep you at arm’s length.

  The Indians would “stand by” whoever paid most heed to their words. But, as the Half-King recalled, the hard-bitten Marin had rejected his claims and threats with contempt, making a threat of his own: “If people will be ruled by me they may expect kindness but not else.”

  The next day, November 26, 1753, the great council that Washington had convened was held in the Long House at Logstown. On behalf of Governor Dinwiddie, their “brother,” he called upon the “Sachems of the Six Nations,” Virginia’s esteemed “friends and allies,” to inform them of his mission and to seek their help in fulfilling it: he needed “young men to provide provisions for us on our way, and to be a safeguard against those French Indians, that have taken up the hatchet against us.” After considering Washington’s words, Tanaghrisson rose and, speaking for all, voiced his feelings of brotherhood. Washington would get his escort, but he must wait while the proper preparations were made: the ceremonial “speech belts” of prized wampum beads previously given by the French must be collected, so that they could be returned to them, while it was also imperative that Washington’s escort should include representatives of all the key nations of the region—Mingos, Shawnees, and Delawares.

  Washington was impatient to push on but, as Tanaghrisson was insistent, “found it impossible to get off without insulting them in the most egregious manner” and so reluctantly agreed to stay. Although a novice in wilderness diplomacy, Washington already knew enough to appreciate that the “returning of wampum, was the abolishing of agreements; and giving this up was shaking off all dependence upon the French.” It was now, or in following weeks, as Washington later recalled, that he was “named by the Half-King . . . and the tribes of nations with whom he treated—Caunotaucarious (in English) the Town taker.” As already seen, this was the name reportedly given to his great-grandfather, John Washington, by the Susquehannocks some seventy-five years earlier. Like the Senecas, by whom Tanaghrisson had been adopted, the Susquehannocks were an Iroquoian people, so it’s certainly not impossible that the title could have been remembered and transmitted orally down the generations. Another possibility is that Washington drew upon his family’s traditions and deliberately resurrected the name himself in a bid to impress the Half-King, and the other Indians he met that winter, with his own warrior heritage.40

  On November 28, Tanaghrisson returned as promised, now accompanied by Monacatoocha, a pro-English Oneida also known as “Scarouady”; another representative of the Six Nations in the Ohio Country, his warrior status was delineated by tattoos—a tomahawk on his chest and a bow and arrow on each cheek.41 Along with two other sachems, the Half-King and Monacatoocha now wanted to know exactly what business they were to be going upon. It was a question Washington had long anticipated, and his carefully rehearsed answers “allayed their curiosity a little.”

  Monacatoocha also conveyed fresh and alarming intelligence of French designs on the Ohio. He had recently heard that the French had summoned all the Mingos and Delawares to Venango, explaining that they had intended to be down the river that autumn and only the onset of winter had stopped them; they would move in the spring, and in still greater numbers. The Indians should not meddle, unless they wished that great force to fall upon them. According to Monacatoocha’s informant, the French were prepared to fight the English for three years. If the end of that time brought stalemate, the Europeans would join forces to “cut off” the Indians and carve up their lands among themselves. This menacing speech had been delivered by Captain Philippe Thomas de Joncaire, the French commandant at Venango—Washington’s next destination.

  Chafing at all the frustrating delays but acknowledging the need for them, Washington resumed his journey only on November 30. An Indian assembly the night before had resolved that just three of the chiefs, along with one of their best hunters, would escort his party onward: a greater number would rouse French suspicions, bringing the risk of bad treatment, they reasoned. When Washington’s little band left Logstown, it was accompanied by the Half-King Tanaghrisson, the Cayuga Jeskakake, an Iroquois chief named White Thunder, and a Seneca called Guyasuta, or “Hunter.”

  They reached Venango on December 4, after a trip of more than seventy miles, meeting nothing remarkable on the way save for more hard weather. Seeing the white flag of the Bourbons flying from a house, Washington approached without hesitation to find the commandant. Captain Joncaire advised Washington that, as there was a general officer at the next post up the line, Fort Le Boeuf, he would need to journey there for an answer to Dinwiddie’s letter. Meanwhile, Joncaire and his fellow officers treated Washington with the courtesy that the age expected from one gentleman to another, but with blunt frankness: yes, they intended nothing less than to take full possession of the Ohio, and, by God, they would do so. As the wine flowed more freely, they boasted that, while it was true that the English could raise two men for every one of theirs, Washington’s countrymen were too lethargic to thwart French plans.

  A veteran soldier of New France, and vastly experienced in Indian affairs, Captain Joncaire was old enough to be Washington’s father; yet he clearly warmed to the self-confident and vigorous young Virginian: by his very presence at Venango, Washington had shown he was a kindred spirit, ready to risk the hazards of the wilderness and not to be confused with those who railed against French plans from the safety of the council chambers and taverns of Williamsburg and Philadelphia.

  On December 5, heavy rain prevented Washington’s party from moving onward. The wily Joncaire exploited this hiatus to summon Tanaghrisson, whom Washington had been keen to keep out of his company. When the Indians came into his presence, Joncaire deployed all his charm, wondering that they could be so near without coming to visit him. Gifts were offered, and alcohol disappeared so fast that, as Washington noted, “they were soon rendered incapable of the business they came about.”

  The next morning, and none the worse for wear, the Half-King asked Washington to stay and hear what he had to say to the French. True to his pledge, when he met Joncaire, Tanaghrisson formally handed over the French speech belt, but the captain refused to receive it: like Dinwiddie’s summons, it must be delivered to the senior commander at the next fort.

  When Washington’s party continued north on December 7, it was accompanied by “Monsieur La Force,” the commissary of stores, whose mastery of Indian languages gave him immense influence among the tribes, and three other soldiers. This stage of their journey, covering about sixty miles, took four days: they were delayed by driving rain and snow and the swamps they were obliged to negotiate because French Creek was swollen so high and rapid that it was “impassable either by fording or rafting.” Even under these trying circumstances Washington viewed the ground with an eye to its future exploitation: “We passed over much good land since we left Venango, and through several extensive and very rich meadows, one of which was near 4 miles in length, and considerably wide in some places,” he noted.

  They reached Fort Le Boeuf on
the December 11 and once again received a cordial reception. Washington presented his credentials and Dinwiddie’s letter to the commandant, Captain Jacques Legardeur, sieur de Saint-Pierre. Washington was clearly impressed: a Knight of the Military Order of St. Louis, Saint-Pierre was “an elderly gentleman” with “much the air of a soldier.” Washington’s assessment was accurate: Saint-Pierre came from an old, established Canadian military dynasty, and his own active service went back to 1732. A noted explorer of the west, he had fought against the formidable Chickasaws of the Mississippi Valley from 1737 to 1740, and the no less fearsome Mohawk allies of the English on the New York frontier during the War of the Austrian Succession.42 Saint-Pierre postponed consideration of Dinwiddie’s letter until the commandant at Fort Presque Isle, Louis Le Gardeur de Repentigny, could be summoned to look over it with him. When they had done so, Washington and his interpreter Van Braam were called in to check their translation.

  On December 13, Saint-Pierre held a council of war, and its deliberations gave Washington a chance to stroll around the fort and make a remarkably detailed report of its dimensions and armament: there were four projecting bastions, each mounting two six-pounder cannon; another four-pounder was set before the gate, ready to repulse any break-in. According to the best estimate he could obtain, the garrison consisted of about 100 men, plus officers. Washington also ordered his followers to make a careful tally of the canoes intended to ferry the French to the Forks with the spring. There were “50 of birch bark, and 170 of pine,” not to mention many others roughly “blocked out” ready for finishing.

  It was not until the evening of December 14 that Washington finally received Saint-Pierre’s answer to Dinwiddie’s summons: that was a matter for the governor of Canada, the commandant said, who would be better able “to set forth the evidence and the reality of the rights of the King, my master, to the lands situated along the Belle Rivière, and to contest the pretensions of the King of Great Britain thereto.” Dinwiddie’s letter would therefore be forwarded to him, with Saint-Pierre guided by the marquis’s response. Meanwhile, he assured Dinwiddie that he had no intention of withdrawing. He wrote: “I am here by the orders of my General, and I entreat you, Sir, not to doubt for a moment that I have a firm resolution to follow them with all the exactness and determination which can be expected of the best officer.” He added: “I have made it a particular duty to receive Mr. Washington with the distinction owing to your dignity, his position, and his own great merit.”43