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." Perhaps the vacillating Dinwiddie threw this letter down as too ardent a one for a military hand to pen; if so Edward Everett has raised it aloft to show his thrilled audiences "the whole man" Washington. "The inhabitants are removing daily," he again wrote—" . . in a short time will leave this country as desolate as Hampshire." To such a degree were the people terrified that secret meetings were held where leaders openly spoke of making terms with the French and Indians by renouncing all claims to the West—no less traitors to the best good of the colonies than those who celebrated over Braddock's defeat.[1]
The campaign of 1756, as conducted by Shirley, contained no hope of relief for Pennsylvania or Virginia; "so much am I kept in the dark," Washington exclaimed, "that I do not know whether to prepare for
- ↑ Pennsylvania Colonial Records, vol. vi, p. 503.
