“If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutlidge, of South Carolina, is by far the greatest orator. But if you speak of solid information, and sound judgment, Colonel Washington is unquestionably the greatest man on that floor.” Washington returned to Mount Vernon. Clouds of sorrow darkened his dwelling, Mrs. Washington was lonely and grief-stricken. Her beautiful, amiable, only daughter, was in the grave. Her only son was absent. Her noble husband had embarked in a cause which menaced him with the scaffold. Their much loved neighbor, George William Fairfax, whose friendship and intimacy had been one of their chief social joys, had left his estate at Belvoir, under the care of an overseer, and had returned to England, to enter upon the possession of large estates which had devolved upon him there. Washington, overwhelmed with immense national solicitudes, found his home enveloped in an atmosphere of loneliness and sadness. Such is human life. Such it has been from the days of the patriarchs: “A path it is of joys and griefs, of many hopes and fears, Gladdened at times by sunny smiles, but oftener dimmed by tears.” In March, 1774, Washington attended another Virginia Convention, at Richmond. Not one word of conciliation came from the British cabinet; but only insults and defiance, accompanied by acts of increasing outrage. “It is useless,” exclaimed Patrick Henry, “to address further petitions to the British government; or to await the effect of those already addressed to the throne. We must fight. I repeat it, we must fight. An appeal to arms, and to the God of Hosts, is all that is left to us.” Washington expressed full sympathy in these sentiments. He wrote to his brother Augustine, offering to take command of a company he was raising and disciplining. He added, “It is my full intention to devote my life and fortune to the cause.”[79] There were four thousand British troops in Boston. The province had a supply of military stores at Concord, distant about eighteen miles. On the night of the 18th of April, 1775, General Gage sent a detachment of about nine hundred men to capture and destroy the stores. The expedition was organized with the utmost secrecy. Boats, from the men-of-war anchored in the harbor, took the troops, from the foot of the Common, about ten o’clock at night, and carried them across the bay to Lechmere Point in Cambridge. Officers were stationed at all important points to prevent any intelligence of the expedition from being communicated to the people. But eagle eyes were watching the movement, and couriers, on fleet horses were soon rushing, through the gloom of night, from farm-house to farm-house, with the alarming tidings. The bells in the village steeples sent forth their cry. And, through the night air, the booming of cannon was heard, proclaiming to the startled people that the detested foe was on the war-path.