CHAPTER XVII
A NEW CAMPAIGN
As already told, affairs in the colonies looked blue indeed, and some hardy pioneers who had risked their all in making their homes in this new country were afraid that ere long they would be forced to either give in to the Indians or come under French rule. Three campaigns had been fought, and still the French were masters, and held Louisburg, Crown Point, Ticonderoga, Frontenac, and the long chain of posts from Niagara to the Ohio and thence to the Mississippi. The English fort at Oswego had been destroyed and the French had compelled the Six Nations, the most powerful Indian organization ever known, either to remain neutral or else give them aid.
To add to English alarm, the war in Europe also took a turn in favor of the French. This brought a storm of protests upon the English ministry, and George II. was compelled to make a change. As a consequence William Pitt was placed in entire control of foreign and colonial affairs.
Pitt was a man of both wisdom and action, and his plans for a new campaign in America aroused the colonies as they had not been aroused before. An army of fifty thousand men, English regulars and colonial militia, was gathered, and it was resolved that a three-headed campaign should be instituted at once, one against Louisburg, another against Ticonderoga and a third against Fort Duquesne.
The first blow was struck early in June, 1758, when the English appeared before Louisburg with thirty-eight ships of war and an army of fourteen thousand men. There was a vigorous attack, and something of a siege, and late in July the place capitulated, and this fall also included the capture of the islands of Prince Edward and Cape Breton.
The advance upon Ticonderoga was not so successful, although a portion of the troops under gallant Israel Putnam, afterwards so famous in the Revolution, dispersed some of the French and captured a hundred and forty-eight prisoners. Following this, an attack was made upon Fort Frontenac, located where the city of Kingston, Canada, is now situated, and here the English laid the fort in ruins and captured nine vessels carrying guns and supplies.
The people of Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania were anxious that the attack on Fort Duquesne be made at once, but as we already know, the armies, especially such as had to march through the wilderness, moved very slowly. The command of this expedition was placed in the hands of General Forbes, a gallant officer but one who was far from being in proper health for such an undertaking. This general left Philadelphia early in July with the main portion of his command, and after a hard march reached Raytown, ninety miles eastward of Fort Duquesne, and now known as Bedford.
While General Forbes was thus moving westward Colonel Washington, who had been ordered to join the main command, gathered together all his available troops and moved northward from Winchester to Fort Cumberland, called in these pages by its, then, common name of Will's Creek.
The spring had passed slowly to those of the Morris family located at Winchester. Strange to say although Joseph Morris' wound healed it seemed next to impossible for the pioneer to get back his strength, and the most he could do was to walk around the rooms of the Gibson home, or around the dooryard, supported by his wife or others.
"My legs won't support me," he said. "They feel as if they'd let me down in a heap at any mnute."
"It is the effects of the fever," said Mrs. Morris. "The doctor says you will have to take it easy for several months."
Rodney, too, had suffered from the march through the forest and from the fighting and was confined more or less to the house.
"It's a shame—and just after I thought I was getting so strong," sighed the cripple. "Somehow, we seem to be an ill-fated family."
During all those dreary months no direct word had come to them concerning little Nell, but through White Buffalo had come a report that a certain tribe of Indians known as the Little Waters had several white girls in their keeping and that one old Indian chief had taken one of the captives as his daughter, he being childless.
"If they take 'em in as their children they'll treat 'em putty civil-like," said Sam Barringford. "But I reckon you don't want to lose little Nell even so."
"No! no!" said Mrs. Morris. "Oh, we must get her back somehow!"
After this news was brought in, Barringford and Dave's father went north-westward once more, in the hope of opening negotiations with the Indians. How this trip would turn out was still a question, although White Buffalo declared that little could be done so long as the war hatchet remained unburied between the English and the French Indians.
As soon as the new call came for additional troops to the colonial militia, Dave signified his intention of once more entering the service under his old commander, Colonel Washington. About this he did not hesitate to see Washington personally.
"I'll be glad to have you with us," said Washington, after the youth had explained matters. "I remember how you acted in our other campaign against Fort Duquesne, and I haven't forgotten, Master David, how we shot the bear,"—this with a twinkle in his eye. " Yes, join us by all means if you care to do so." And Dave signed the muster roll that day, as a colonial militiaman, at a salary of tenpence a day,—twopence to be deducted for clothing and other necessaries! This was the regular rate of pay, and for those days was considered quite fair.
It must be confessed that the troops under Colonel Washington formed a motley collection. Many of the best of the pioneers and frontiersmen had grown tired of the delays in the past and now refused to re-enlist, fearful that they would be called on to do nothing but wait around the fort, while the summer harvests at home demanded their attention. Drumming up recruits proved the hardest kind of work, and the companies were made up in some cases of men who knew not the meaning of home life—hardy trappers and traders, some industrious enough, but others given to drink and brawling, and not a few who lived almost as the Indians did, using the redmen's style of dress and occasionally painting their faces, "jes' fer the sport on't," as they expressed it. When it came to fighting these men were like human tigers, but in camp and on the march it was next to impossible to bring them under military discipline. Many refused to carry rations as the regular soldiers did, preferring to bring down game as they needed it, and if game was not handy they appropriated a pig or a cow belonging to some settler—thus bringing additional trouble on the command.
"So you are going with the soldiers," said Henry, when Dave told him of what he had done. "Well, if you go I shall go too—that is, if mother will let me."
Henry put in the proviso with an anxious look on his face, for he knew how difficult would be his task of getting his parent's consent.
"No, no, Henry!" cried Mrs. Morris. "With your father and Rodney so ill, and with Nell gone, how can I spare you?"
"But, mother, somebody has got to fight the French," insisted the son. "If we don't fight them, and whip them, how shall we ever get back to our home? I don't want to give all that up, do you?"
A long argument followed, and at last Mrs. Morris said she would let her son know about it in the morning.
White Buffalo came in that night with news. "The Little Waters have gone to the setting sun, to the French," he said. "White Buffalo has been told they will remain there until winter comes again."
"To Fort Duquesne!" cried Dave. "I'm glad of it. Now if we take that fort perhaps we'll be able to rescue Nell and the Rose twins."
This news decided Mrs. Morris, and with tears standing in her eyes she told Henry he might go with Dave and Colonel Washington. "And may God grant that you return with Nell safe and sound," she added.
A few days later found the two young soldiers on the march. It was something of a gala day for Winchester, and the post was gay with flags and bunting. The long drums rolled and the fifes piped up cheerily as the command passed out of the town and on the trail running northward to Cumberland. Many were in the best of spirits, hoping that the downfall of Fort Duquesne would be speedily accomplished.
The town was scarcely left behind however, before the music came to an end, and the command moved on by the route step—that is, every soldier stepping out to suit himself. This was necessary, for the way was rough, having fallen into disuse since the beginning of the troubles with the Indians.
"I heard a report that we are not to use the old Braddock road to Fort Duquesne," said Henry, as he trudged alongside of Dave. "Colonel Washington advised using it, but General Forbes is going to cut a road of his own."
"If he does that we'll be all fall and winter getting to the fort," answered Dave. "How foolish not to use a road already made."
"It's queer they won't take Colonel's Washington's advice. He knows this territory better than anybody."
"There is a good deal of military jealousy afloat," was the answer. "English officers hate to see a colonial get ahead of them. They want to head the whole game."
The second night out the troops encamped near a large brook. It was hot and Dave and Henry were glad enough to take a swim in the stream as soon as they got the chance. They were soon in the water and diving and sporting to their heart's content. Then Henry caught a branch hanging over the water's edge and pulled himself up into the tree.
"See what a fine dive I can take from here," he called to his cousin.
"Don't you do it," cried Dave. "You may go too deep and strike your head on a rock."
"I'll be careful," was Henry's answer. "Here goes!"
With a quick movement he leaped from one limb to another. As the second limb gave a sudden swish Henry uttered a cry of alarm. Then he came tumbling into the water with a loud splash. After him tumbled a wildcat, snarling in rage at being thus unceremoniously disturbed. The wildcat struck close to where Dave was treading water and on the instant made a leap for the young soldier's shoulder.