Vic Socotra

27 September 2009

Believers

(The Great Bridge near the Dismal Swamp)

I became a believer in this Fall for real yesterday in the sprawling parking lot at College Park in the state that adjoins Virginia to the east.

Oh, the squirrels outside the balcony that look me eye-to-eye in the morning have been adherents for weeks, eating the seeds of the maple tree while they are still green and tasty in preparation for what may be a long tough winter..

I cannot tell you how comforting it is to have an experienced guide for a tailgate affair. There are many others in the lot who are True Believers; there are some who have developed full blown manias. Huge buses festooned with team colors and satellite dishes; portable tents and awnings, grills aplenty. One featured a flat-screen television with an extension cord long enough that it might have reached all the way back home.

Our part was small and sensible; mission focused. A handful of Colonels and Captains; our distinguished Leader; the finest analyst in the Business; spicy chicken wings, gigantic torpedo sandwich. Add icy cold beers and iced vodka and the air of burning bratwurst all around and life does not get a lot better.

At least until the rain that had been threatening all morning came down, light at first, and then soaking right through the disappointing game and into the post-game debriefing with beer under the back deck of the Outback.

I believe. And when I rose this morning, I knew that it was time to head south and do what the squirrels have been doing: get things ready for the change of season at Refuge Farm.

The feral cats would appreciate it, I know.

They spring from a long line of felines who have inhabited that neck of the woods for hundreds of years, since the first Englishmen wandered up from Tidewater onto Lord Fiarfax’s grant from King Charles.

I am about sick of the New Englanders hi-jacking our history, and pride of place in the American narrative, and I believe we ought to set the record straight. This is a bit complex for a Sunday morning, but here it is, in brief.

The Fairfax and grant encompassed nearly five million acres, though no one knew how big it was going to be at the time. In 1649, exiled King Charles II of Britain rewarded the two Culpeper brothers and five other loyal friends by issuing a grant for a "porcon of Virginia ... bounded by and within the heads of the Rivers Rappahannock and Patawomecke...."

That was the turning point. Of course the grant did not actually have the force of law until Charles was restored to the throne in 1660. The actual springs of the two rivers had not yet been found, so it was anyone’s guess as to how much land was encompassed by the grant. The seven original shares passed ultimately to Thomas, 2nd Baron Culpeper, and thence to his only daughter Catherine, who in turn married Thomas Fairfax, 5th Lord Fairfax of Cameron, unifying the grant in one family. It them became known as the "Fairfax Grant."

Frankly, the size of the grant was breathtaking. I have been living on Fairfax land since I came to Virginia a quarter century ago. Thomas, the Sixth Lord Fairfax, Baron of Cameron, was born on October 22, 1693 at Leeds Castle in Kent. By 1719, he was the master of the Fairfax Grant. Unlike most of the absentee landlords of England, Thomas Fairfax came to America in 1735 to manage his affairs himself.

He met a sixteen-year-old distant relative named later hired George Washington to survey his holdings (1749-1752). He did not live in Culpeper, choosing rather to establish his seat at Greenway Court in what is now Winchester in Clarke County.

He did not die until he was 88 years of age, and two months after the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown.

His lands were confiscated by the State, but there is no evidence that he was personally molested, but he definitely became a believer that things were changing.

We hear a lot about Concord and Lexington in our history books, so let me fill you in on where we are coming from in Culpeper County.

In the sultry month of July, 1775, the Minutemen of Fairfax (that was the original name of Culpeper City until the Yankees occupied it) met and swore an oath under the big oak tree on the Catalpa Estate just north of town.

Then they went back to hunting and farming their plots on Lord Fairfax’s land. In October, they were dispatched eastward to Hampton to respond to the imminent threat of a British landing.

The accuracy of their rifles enabled the Virginians to effectively shoot the men manning the ships cannons, and the fleet eventually sailed away in frustration.

Eight weeks later, the Culpeper militia participated in the Battle of Great Bridge near what is now Kempsville, in sprawling Virginia Beach. Then it was the port on the east branch of the Elizabeth River, and adjacent to the Dismal Swamp.

Lord Dunsmore, Royal Governor, was misinformed of the strength of the prospective opposition, and wanted to crush the rebellion in his Dominion. He sent a detachment of the regular army, sailors from HMS Otter at Norfolk, "plus some sixty townsmen" to conduct a surprise attack on Great Bridge in the morning of December 9th.

The Virginians had beaten reveille as Captain Fordyce, RA, led a force of 60 grenadiers and a corps of 120 regulars and militia across the bridge.

With two cannons that had been brought onto the island, Fordyce pushed toward the patriot redoubt. Continental Lieutenant Travis ordered his men to hold their fire until the British force was within fifty yards. Seeing no rebel response, Fordyce erroneously believed the log fort was abandoned.

"The day is our own!" he shouted, and directed a rush toward the redoubt As Fordyce and his troops drew close to the logs, the patriots rose up and delivered a devastating volley from the breastwork. Fordyce was struck by 14 bullets and killed instantly. The British fell back in disarray. In less than a half hour, Royal authority in the Virginia Colony was effectively at an end.

The Culpeper Minutemen disbanded in January 1776 under orders from the Committee of Safety, since their skills were better integrated into the Continental Army. Most became private soldiers under brawling, hard-drinking Colonel Daniel Morgan of the 11th Virginia.

He was later a Congressman and crushed the Whiskey Rebellion at the request of his friend George Washington.

So, I admire the hardly people of Massachusetts, and their contribution to the Revolution.

But as to the people of Culpeper, they simply marched down to the water and expelled the British.

It seemed more effective that way, and besides, why mess around?

Oh, the last house in Virginia that Lord Dunsmore stayed in, ashore, is still around. It is on a government reservation, though. I wrote a story about it one time, but the people who control the land told me I couldn’t tell you. It is a big secret, and they are big believers in that.

Oh well.

Close Window