Legends of the Skyline Drive and the Great Valley of Virginia

The Moore Massacre

One of the most beautiful sections in Southwestern Virginia is called Ab's Valley, in Tazewell County. It was first settled by Captain James Moore, one of the Scotch-Irish Presbyterians, who had moved from Rockingham County in 1775. There was no river running through the ten miles of fertile grounds, but several springs watered the tall grass which afforded fine grazing for stock and game. Captain Moore's brother-in-law, Mr. Robert Poage, came to live nearby, but they were the only settlers in that neighborhood. Their nearest neighbors and a fort were over twelve miles away.

In the Spring of 1782 the Indians came to Mr. Poage's house and burst through the heavy door without any warning. They did not expect to find any men there and when they saw there were three they did not attempt to enter the house. The next morning, a man named Richardson, who worked on the place, went out to look at some deer skins which he had soaking in a nearby pond. The Indians crept up and shot him, taking his scalp.

Two years passed before the Indians attacked the Moore family. James, a young boy of fourteen, was sent by Captain Moore to get some horses from a field about two miles from his home. He wanted James to go to the mill and for this he needed an extra horse.

James had gone only a short distance when three Indians sprang from behind a log and caught hold of the boy. He screamed and the Indian laid his hand over his mouth and in the Indian language told him to keep still.

Black Wolf was the name of the middle-aged Indian. His son was about eighteen years old. The other Indian seemed to be one of Black Wolf's men. James said he was not so very much frightened after he was told he belonged to Black Wolf, though he was one of the sternest looking men he had ever seen. Black Wolf gave James some salt and told him to catch some of his father's horses for him. James said he would, meaning he would catch two, and try to make his escape on one of them. But every time he caught a horse the Indians ran up and frightened it so it would get away. At last the Indians gathered up their blankets and pots where they were hidden in the grass and motioned for James to fall in line. The young Indian went first, then the Indian man, then James, followed by Black Wolf.

James tried to break off pieces of bushes so his father could tell which way he had gone. Black Wolf tapped his shoulder and shook his head. Then he tried to leave signs by digging his toes down into the soft earth. Again Black Wolf shook his head.

After they had gone a long way, about sundown Black Wolf gave a long war-whoop. He did the same the next morning at sunrise. The Indians did this to show they had a prisoner. They gave one cry for each prisoner taken. If they had taken scalps, the cry would have been a different kind.

Before they lay down in the thicket that night, Black Wolf searched James to see if he carried a knife. Then he took out a halter and tied it fast to James' neck and wrapped the other end around his hand.

The next morning Black Wolf left James with the other two Indians and went off to get a Dutch oven which he had taken on one of his other expeditions. He gave this to James to carry. He fastened it to James' back, but after it rubbed a sore place, James threw it down and refused to carry it further. Black Wolf then took off the huge bundle which he carried and told James to take it. But he could not even lift it from the ground. The Indian then pointed to the Dutch oven, and he found it was not so bad to carry after he padded it with leaves.

He found out how long the Indians could go without much food. For three whole days they had only water in which poplar bark had been steeped. On the fourth day they shot a buffalo. They took a small bit of the meat and made a clear broth which they drank but Black Wolf did not let them eat any of the meat until the next day, this being their custom after fasting.

James said he travelled the whole way barefooted. Of course his feet became sore from bruises. He saw many rattlesnakes, but he was not allowed to kill them as the Indians considered them to be their friends.

James knew that the Shawnees, of whom Black Wolf was a member, lived far to the West. He believed they must be nearing their town after he had travelled for twenty days. He told of how they made a raft of logs on which they crossed the Ohio and other streams. He learned how to twine the long grapevines around the logs to make the raft. He saw how the Indians made crude pictures in the banks of the streams to let other Indians know they had a prisoner. Black Wolf stopped and drew three Indians and a boy.

When the Indians came near their town they painted themselves black. They left him white as an omen of safety. Black Wolf traded James to his half-sister for a horse. James later found out why he was not taken into the town. It was a time of peace and if they had seen the new prisoner, they might have made him run the gauntlet. The old squaw was kind to him and sometimes left him alone in the wigwam for days at a time. He said he prayed to God to keep him safe. We cannot give all his experiences with the Indians, but he was finally sold to a French trader from Detroit. His name was Baptist Ariome and he liked James, for he looked like his own son. He gave the old squaw fifty dollars' worth of silver brooches, beads, and other trinkets in Indian money.

James met a man who was a trader from Kentucky, a Mr. Sherlock. This man promised to write to James' father and tell him of his capture, of his being sold and of his being taken to Detroit. After some time, as we shall see, he did get back to Virginia.

But in the meantime, many other things were happening to the Moore family. In July 1786, several of the hundred head of horses which belonged to Captain Moore came in to the salt block to get salt. Captain Moore went out to see them, about two hundred yards from the house. Nearby were two of his children, William and Rebecca, who were coming from the spring; not far away was another child, Alexander. All at once a stream of bullets began to fly. Thirty Indians had hidden themselves in the tall grass which almost surrounded the Moore home. William and Rebecca were killed instantly. Captain Moore ran to the fence which separated the lot from the house and as he climbed over, he was struck by several bullets. The Indians then ran up and scalped him.

Two men who lived with the Moores were not far away in a field, reaping wheat. When they heard the shooting they ran toward the house but when they saw it was surrounded by Indians they made their escape and went off to give the alarm to other settlers who were six miles away.

Mrs. Moore and Martha Evans, the girl in the house with her, quickly barred the door when they saw the tragedy. They took down the rifles which had been fired the night before and gave them to an old Englishman, John Simpson, who was ill, to load for them. But the old man could not help them, for he had been struck by a bullet as he lay sick.

Martha Evans soon decided to hide under a loose board in the floor of the cabin. Polly Moore, a little girl of eight, was holding her baby sister who was screaming with fear. Martha told Polly to get under the board too, but she decided to stay with the baby.

Then the Indians burst down the door and lunged in. They took Mrs. Moore prisoner and four children, John, Polly, Jane, and Peggy. They took everything they fancied, then set the house on fire.

Poor Mrs. Moore saw the Indians kill her son because he was sick and could not keep up with them. They killed the baby because it cried so pitiously. They had to have their hands tied, as had James, and they, too, fasted.

When at last they reached the Indian town, Mrs. Moore and Jane were killed by torture and death at the stake. Polly was treated more kindly and was finally sold to a man near Lake Erie, for a half gallon of rum!

Now fate seems to have taken a hand in bringing Polly and her brother James together in that far-away country. While on a hunting expedition James heard about the destruction of his family. He was told that his sister Polly had been bought by a Mr. Stogwell, a man of bad character. It was in the Winter, so James waited until Spring when Mr. Stogwell moved into the same section of the country where he was living.

When James went to see them he found Polly very miserable. Her clothing was only rags and she had almost lost hope of ever seeing any of her people again. James found that Mr. Stogwell was unkind, too, so he went with Simon Girty to Colonel McKee, Superintendent of Indians, to get her release. He had Mr. Stogwell brought to trial, but they did not have enough evidence and Polly could not leave him. However, after much trouble, James was able to get passage for Polly and himself on a trading boat and came down the Great Lakes. They landed in a Moravian town where they met some friends owning horses. They journeyed to Pittsburgh and stayed until Spring. Then they set off for Virginia, sad, of course, knowing how few there would be to welcome them. Yet they were delighted to find their brother Joseph was still safe. He had been visiting his grandfather in Rockbridge County at the time of the massacre.

Polly met and married the Reverend Samuel Brown, a Presbyterian preacher. They had seven sons, and five of them were ministers.

Washington's Boyhood Friend—Lord Fairfax

"The Proprietor of the Northern Neck," Lord Fairfax, lived at "Greenway Court" after first having a country seat at Belvoir near the Potomac River in what is now Fairfax County.

An interesting character this Fairfax must have been. Born with a title in England, he moved in intellectual circles there, was acquainted with men of letters such as Addison and actually contributed some articles to the Spectator. Either through boredom or a disappointment in not winning the lady of his choice he decided to leave his country and come to Virginia.

It may be of passing interest to learn that Lord Fairfax, although proprietor of thousands upon thousands of acres, lived in a comparatively simple way. His home was an unpretentious story and a half frame building, situated in a large grove of trees, and surrounded by smaller homes for servants and tenants. "Greenway Court," the name given the home, very probably lacked more indications of elegance and grace because of Fairfax's bachelor state.

A mile from the house he had erected a white-oak post which served as guide for those in search of his dwelling. At White Post, the village which derived its name from the signpost, one may see a replica of the original, located on the site of the first one placed there in 1760 by the proprietor.

His domain, called the "Northern Neck of Virginia," comprised the present counties of Lancaster, Northumberland, Richmond, Westmoreland, Stafford, King George, Prince William, Fairfax, Loudon, Fauquier, Culpeper, Clarke, Madison and Page in Virginia and numerous counties in West Virginia.

Lord Fairfax was exceptionally interested in fox hunting and reserved great tracts for this sport. Sometimes he spent weeks at a time hunting. He made a rule that whoever caught the fox should cut off its tail and hold it aloft and should have no part of the expense of the subsequent frolic. As soon as a fox was started all the young men would gallop off at a great rate, while Fairfax waited behind with a servant familiar with the hills and streams and who had a good ear; following the servant's directions he frequently stuck the fox's tail in his hat and rejoined the hunters!

Familiar to everyone is the fact that Lord Fairfax engaged Washington, a boy of about sixteen, to survey his vast lands beyond the Blue Ridge. Through this undertaking the latter gained a thorough knowledge of frontier life and a reputation for dependability and self-confidence. These attributes were to be needed later for participation in the French and Indian War. A warm and lasting friendship grew up between the proprietor and Washington.

Being British by birth and sympathy the course of the Revolution was watched with mingled hopes and anxieties by Fairfax. When news of the final capitulation at Yorktown arrived late in October 1781 the feeble, disappointed and tired old man called his servant and asked to be put to bed since he felt the time had come for him to die. In December of that same year the great proprietor of the Northern Neck of Virginia died.

Winchester—The Frontier Town of the Valley

The first inhabitants of Winchester were a large tribe of Shawnee Indians. Two houses occupied by white men are supposed to have been standing as early as 1738.

Known as Old Town and Fredericktown it was named Winchester in 1752 in honor of the English home of its founder, Colonel James Wood. The settlement grew so rapidly it was necessary several times to enlarge its boundaries. Colonel Wood and Lord Fairfax both donated additional lots in order to extend the corporate limits of the town.

During the French and Indian War Colonel George Washington was asked to go to Winchester to defend the Valley. He found refugees overrunning the place and determined to build a fort on the outskirts of the town which would afford protection in case of raids. He imported his own blacksmith to do the foundry work, so anxious was he to speed the construction of the fortifications. Fort Loudon was the name given, after Lord Loudon the commander of the colonial forces, and a successful defense was made against the French there. It may be of interest to learn that the fort's bastion still remains and the well which supplied water during the French and Indian War is still in use today.

No account of Winchester would be complete if the story of General Daniel Morgan were omitted. Of Scotch-Irish extraction he came with his parents from New Jersey to the new settlement. As a youngster he was considered something of a bully. The story goes that around "Battletown," an intersection in the roads where toughs used to fight for the joy of combat, young Morgan was in the habit of placing large stones at strategic points. In case he had to retreat he was able to draw on this supply of ammunition!

Tradition has it that on one occasion young Dan Morgan had just arrived in Winchester from the Western settlements on the South Branch—as a driver of a pack for the fur traders. George Washington was ready with his small party to go to the Ohio Country with a message to the French officials not to continue their fort building on English property.

Washington's journal gives the following notes: "On Ye 17th day of Ye month of Novemo,—the party consists of one guide and packer, one Indian interpreter, one French interpreter and four gentlemen." We know now that the celebrated Gist was his guide and Vanbraam his interpreter. It is said that Morgan offered his services too as a guide, and was accepted. It was on this perilous trip, perhaps, that each of these young men realized the fine traits of the other.

It was Daniel Morgan who, at the outbreak of the Revolution, marched a hundred men with one wagon of supplies to Boston to report to General Washington. He fought at Quebec and Saratoga and defeated Tarleton at Cowpens. He had charge of Hessian prisoners captured at Saratoga and there are evidences yet of his supervision of construction of stone walls and homes and the mill at Millwood built with prisoner labor.

"Saratoga" is the name he gave his home near Boyce; it was built mainly by the Hessian artisans. On his way to Gettysburg in 1863 General Lee used the fine old house as headquarters. This estate is on the road between Winchester and Boyce and is in full view of the highway.

There is a wealth of amusing tales told about the old city, some dating as far back as its conception; others have to do with the activities of later times.

The story is still heard in Winchester of the time when guests and village loafers were congregated in one of the taverns at the close of a day to discuss weighty topics over their glasses of ale. From a window they saw an old man get out of his gig, taking with him luggage for overnight accommodation. The gig was comparable to the famed One Horse Shay in its state of near collapse. Comments were passed among the group inside as to the man's shabby appearance, his business and ultimate destination. He was soon forgot in the midst of the ensuing conversation between several young lawyers, one of whom remarked that he had heard a sermon delivered which equalled the eloquence and fluency usually reserved to lawyers pleading their cases. This brought forth eventually a heated discussion of the merits of the Christian religion, argued pro and con by those present lasting from six in the evening till eleven.

Finally one young fellow turned to the quiet old traveller. The latter had sat with apparent interest and meekness throughout the five-hour debate and had not joined in. The question was asked, "Well, old gentleman, what's your opinion?"

The reply lasted almost an hour; he answered argument for argument in the exact order in which each had occurred and with the greatest simplicity and dignity. At the conclusion no one spoke for some time. At last inquiry was ventured as to his identity. He was Chief Justice John Marshall.

In his Virginia: A History of the People John Esten Cooke relates this story. An Irish laborer and his wife came in 1767 to the lower valley country and stopped at the home of a Mr. and Mrs. Strode, German landowner. For several years they lived with the German family and during the time a son was born. When they decided to push on farther south the Strode children followed, begging that they leave the little boy behind with them. They had become very much attached to the baby and were reluctant to see him go away. The parents naturally refused the request. While stopping for a short rest they placed the baby on the ground and the children would have run off with him if they could.

The family kept its southward course and at last reached the Waxhaws in North Carolina. Here the boy grew up and later his name was familiar to every one—Andrew Jackson, seventh President of the United States.

The legend may or may not be true, according to Mr. Cooke. But at least there was a clear, cool spring on the Strode farm called "Jackson's Spring."

A pamphlet compiled at Winchester on "What To See and How To See It" tells us that the town changed hands seventy-six times during the War Between the States. Other sources give a fraction of a smaller figure. The exact number of times the town was under first Federal then Confederate forces does not matter, but it is well to know that so much of the fighting took place around the neighborhood. More will be said about the Valley warfare later on.

Beginning in November 1861 and continuing until March of the following year General Jackson had his headquarters in Winchester. After finding suitable quarters he sent for his wife who had remained at their home in Lexington, Virginia. Colonel Henderson in his well-known book, Stonewall Jackson, quotes Mrs. Jackson as saying of her stay that Winter:

"The Winchester ladies were amongst the most famous of Virginia housekeepers, and lived in a good deal of old-fashioned elegance and profusion. The old border town had not then changed hands with the conflicting armies, as it was destined to do so many times during the war. Under the rose-colored light in which I viewed everything that winter, it seemed to me that no people could have been more cultivated, attractive, and noble-hearted. Winchester was rich in happy homes and pleasant people; and the extreme kindness and appreciation shown General Jackson by all bound us to them so closely and warmly that ever after that winter he called the place our 'war home'."

Winchester rightly claims that it is in the "heart of the apple industry," for thousands of acres are devoted to the growing of fine apples. Over a million barrels are harvested annually and at Winchester, we believe, is the largest cold storage apple plant in the world.

Celebrating its crop each year, the city stages an apple blossom festival during the latter part of April or the first of May when the orchards for miles around are filled with the delicately tinted pink blooms. This is a lavish sort of entertainment. A queen is selected to reign over the festivities, her maids are invited from surrounding sections of the country to participate in the parades and balls which are given during the days' programs. If you haven't been already, plan to attend an Apple Blossom Festival and see Virginia in one of her prettiest moods—with gay young ladies and bloom-filled orchards.

You know of the "Tom, Dick and Harry" trio of Winchester and its neighborhood, don't you? They are the world famous Byrd brothers, descendants of the founder of Richmond, Colonel William Byrd of Westover on the James. Tom Byrd is a successful planter and orchardist. Richard Byrd is noted for his polar expeditions; now he is devoting all his energies towards the perpetuation of peace for our country. Harry Byrd was at one time a progressive young Governor of the State and now serves as a Senator in the United States Congress.