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                              The Story
                        of Bacon's Rebellion.




                              The Story
                                  of
                          Bacon's Rebellion


                        By MARY NEWTON STANARD


                       New York and Washington
                     THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY
                                1907.




                          _Copyright, 1907,
                  By The Neale Publishing Company._




     TO MY HUSBAND

     WILLIAM GLOVER STANARD,

     MY COMPANION AND GUIDE

     IN ALL MY PILGRIMAGES

     INTO THAT CHARMED REGION,

     VIRGINIA'S PAST.




CONTENTS.


     CHAPTER.                                         PAGE.

        I. Sir William Berkeley                          13

       II. The People's Grievances                       18

      III. The Reign of Terror                           29

       IV. Enter, Mr. Bacon                              40

        V. The Indian War-Path                           50

       VI. The June Assembly                             58

      VII. The Commission                                74

     VIII. Civil War                                     86

       IX. The Indian War-Path Again                     96

        X. Governor Berkeley in Accomac                 109

       XI. Bacon Returns to Jamestown                   114

      XII. Jamestown Besieged and Burned                122

     XIII. "The Prosperous Rebel"                       132

      XIV. Death of Bacon and End of the Rebellion      142

       XV. Peace Restored                               156

      XVI. Conclusion                                   162

           Appendix                                     171




PREFACE.


After the thrilling scenes through which the Colony of Virginia passed
during its earliest days, the most portentous, the most dramatic, the
most picturesque event of its seventeenth century history was the
insurrection known as "Bacon's Rebellion." All writers upon the history
of Virginia refer to it, and a few have treated it at some length, but
it is only in quite late years that facts unearthed in the English
public records have enabled students to reach a proper understanding of
the causes and the results of this famous uprising, and given them
accurate and detailed information concerning it. The subject has long
been one of popular interest, in spite of the imperfect knowledge
touching it, and it is believed that a clear and simple presentation of
the information now available will be welcomed by those whose attention
has been attracted to a man of most striking personality and to a
stirring period of Colonial history.

During the year 1907 thousands of persons from all parts of the world
will visit the scenes of Nathaniel Bacon's brief career, will see--while
passing on James River--the site of his home at "Curles Neck," will
visit Richmond, where "Bacon's Quarter" is still a name, will linger in
the historic city of Williamsburg, once the "Middle Plantation," will
stand within the ancient tower of the church which the rebels burned at
Jamestown, and from, possibly, the very spot where Bacon and Sir William
Berkeley had their famous quarrel, will see the foundations of the old
State House--but lately excavated--before which the antagonists stood.

While the writer of this monograph has made a careful and thorough study
of all records of the period, remaining in England or America, and has
earnestly endeavored to give an exact and unbiased account, and while
she has made no statement not based upon original sources, her story is
addressed especially to the general reader. She has therefore not
burdened her pages with references to the authorities she has used, a
list of which will be found in the appendix.




THE STORY OF BACON'S REBELLION--VIRGINIA, 1676.




I.

SIR WILLIAM BERKELEY.


The year 1676 dawned upon troublous scenes in Virginia. Being a time
when men were wont to see in every unusual manifestation of Nature the
warning shadow cast ahead by some coming event, the colonists darkly
reminded each other how the year past had been marked by three
"Prodigies." The first of these was "a large comet every evening for a
week or more, at southwest, thirty-five degrees high, streaming like a
horse's tail westwards, until it reached (almost) the horizon, and
setting towards the northwest." The second consisted of "flights of
pigeons, in breadth nigh a quarter of the mid-hemisphere, and of their
length was no visible end, whose weight break down the limbs of large
trees whereon they rested at nights, of which the fowlers shot abundance
and ate 'em," and the third, of "swarms of flies about an inch long, and
big as the top of a man's little finger, rising out of spigot holes in
the earth, which ate the new sprouted leaves from the tops of the trees,
without other harm, and in a month left us."

Looking backward from the practical point of view of our day, and
beholding that memorable year under the cold light of fact, it does not
seem that any evil omen should have been needed to make clear that a
veritable witch's caldron of dangers was brewing in Colonial Virginia,
and that some radical change in the administration of the government
alone could have prevented it from reaching boiling point.

Sir William Berkeley had served two long terms as Governor, during which
his attractive personality and intellectual gifts had brought him wide
popularity, and his home, "Green Spring," some four miles from
Jamestown, had become famous for its atmosphere of refinement and good
cheer, and as a resort for wandering Cavaliers. He was now--grown old in
years and sadly changed in character--serving a third term; reigning,
one might almost say. Stern and selfish as he had become, bending his
will only to the wishes of the young wife of whom he was childishly fond
and who was, by many, blamed for the change in him, he makes an
unlovely, but withal a pathetic figure in the history of Virginia.

Every inch a gallant soldier, every inch a gentleman, yet haughty,
unsympathetic and unlovable; narrow in mind and in heart; clinging
desperately to Old World traditions in a new country eager to form
traditions of its own; struggling blindly to train the people under him
to a habit of unquestioning obedience and submission to the powers that
be, however arbitrary and oppressive those powers might become--a habit
which, however deep-rooted it might have been in its native soil, could
hardly be expected to bear transplanting to a land so wide and free as
America, and so far distant from its parent stem.

To Sir William Berkeley his sovereign was literally "his most sacred
Majesty." Whatever that sovereign's human frailties might be, the kingly
purple covered them all. His slightest whim was holy; to question his
motives or the rightness and wisdom of his commands was little short of
blasphemy. Furthermore, as the King's agent and representative in
Virginia, Governor Berkeley expected like homage toward himself. In
short, he was a bigoted royalist and egotist, believing first in the
King and second in himself, or rather, perhaps, first in himself, and
then in the King, and the confession of faith which he lived up to with
unswerving consistency was the aggrandizement of those already great and
the keeping in subjection of those already lowly.

Yet, high-spirited old Cavalier though he was, knowing nothing of
personal cowardice nor fearing to match his good sword against any in
the land, The People, whom his aristocratic soul despised, inspired him
with continual dread.

It most naturally follows that to such a mind the unpardonable sin was
rebellion. No matter what the provocation to rebellion might be, the
crime of presuming to resist the King's government was one that could
not be justified, and the chief policy of Sir William's administration
was to keep the people where they were as little as possible likely to
commit it. Recognizing that ideas might become dangerous weapons in
their possession, he took pains lest they should develop them, and
thanked God that there were no public schools or printing-presses in
Virginia. He even discouraged the parsons from preaching for fear that
the masses might gain too much of the poison of knowledge through
sermons. He declared that "learning had brought disobedience into the
world," and his every act showed that he was determined to give it no
chance to bring disobedience to the English government or to himself
into Virginia.




II.

THE PEOPLE'S GRIEVANCES.


Around the Governor had gathered a ring of favorites, called by the
people "grandees," who formed an inner circle which grew daily richer
and more important as those outside of its magic bounds sunk into
greater obscurity and wretchedness. The result was, under an outward
show of unity, two distinct parties, deeply antagonistic in feeling, the
one made up of the Governor and the Governor's friends--small in numbers
but powerful in wealth and influence--and the other of the people,
strong only in numbers and in hatred of their oppressors. The one party
making merry upon the fat of that goodly land, the other feeding upon
the husks and smarting under a scourge each several lash of which was an
intolerable "grievance."

It would be impossible to gain a faithful picture of the time without a
knowledge of the nature of some of these grievances. Most of them were
summed up in the melancholy and inharmonious cry of "hard times," which
made itself heard throughout the broad land--a cry which in whatsoever
country or time it be raised invariably gives rise to discontent with
the existing government, and, in extreme cases, brings with it a
readiness on the part of the distressed ones to catch at any measure,
try any experiment that seems to hold out promise of relief. One cause
of the poverty of the people of Virginia in 1676 was to be found in the
low price of tobacco--the sole money product of the colony--through a
long series of years. For this and the consequent suffering the
government was, of course, not responsible. Indeed, it sought to find a
remedy by attempting to bring about, for a time, a general cessation of
tobacco culture in the colonies. A scheme to better the condition of the
people by introducing diversified industries was also started, and with
this end in view tanneries were established in each county, and an
effort was made to build new towns in several places, but it soon became
plain that they could not be maintained. These unhappy attempts became,
by increasing the taxes, merely fresh causes of discontent. Yet, while
they were blunders, they were well meant, and in accordance with the
spirit of the times.

Giving the government all honor due for taking even these misguided
steps in behalf of the people, it must be confessed that there were
other troubles greatly to its discredit.

The heaviest of these were the long continued Assembly,--while the
people clamored, justly, for a new election,--the oppressive taxes, and
the Indian troubles.

As early as 1624 the Virginia Assembly had declared that the Governor
(for all he was his Majesty's representative) could not levy taxes
against the will of the Burgesses, which, since the Burgesses were
supposed to represent the people, was as much as to say against the will
of the people. Governor Berkeley's Burgesses, however, did not
represent the people. The Assembly chosen in 1862, and composed almost
entirely of sympathizers with the Governor, was so much to the old man's
mind that, saying that "men were more valuable in any calling, in
proportion to their experience," he refused to permit a new election,
and the consequence was that in the thirteen years before our story
opens, during which this Assembly sat under Sir William's influence, he
had brought it up to his hand, as it were, and it had ceased to
represent anything but its own and the Governor's interests.

With such a legislature to support him, Sir William could bid defiance
to the restrictions upon the Governor's power to lay taxes, and the poor
"tithable polls" (all males above sixteen years of age) were called upon
to pay the expenses of any measures which were deemed proper in carrying
on the government; for the unrighteous taxes were imposed always _per
capita_--never upon property, though by act passed in 1670 only
landholders could vote.

It was by this system of poll-tax that the ample salaries of the
Burgesses were paid and also that the sundry perquisites attached to the
office of a Burgess were provided--such as the maintenance of a
manservant and two horses apiece, and fees for clerks to serve
committees, and liquors for the committees to drink their own and each
other's good health. Doubtless many stately compliments were exchanged
when the Burgesses, in an outburst of generosity, were pleased to
present the Governor and others of high degree with "great gifts," but
the grace and charm of the act were not perceptible to the eyes of the
people who, enjoying neither the gifts nor the applause of presenting
them, were taxed to pay the piper.

The "poorer sort" complained that they were "in the hardest
condition--who having nothing but their labor to maintain themselves,
wives and children, pay as deeply to the public as he that hath 20,000
acres." Their complaints were just, but not likely to find a hearing,
for the spirit of the age demanded that, in order that the wealthy
might keep up the appearance of wealth and maintain the dignity of their
position, those who had no wealth to be retained and no dignity to be
maintained must keep the wolf from the door as best they might while the
fruits of their daily toil were "engrossed" by their so-called
representatives. In the mean time, these representatives, their pockets
thus swelled, found public life too comfortable to feel any desire to
return to agricultural pursuits, or to be content with the uncertain
income afforded by the capricious crop.

But this was not the worst.

While Charles II was yet in exile, some of his courtiers who, for all
their boasted sympathy in the sorrows of their "dear sovereign," were
not unmindful of their own interests, prayed of his Majesty a grant of
the Northern Neck of Virginia, and Charles, forgetful of the loyalty of
the little colony beyond the seas which had been faithful to him through
all of his troubles, and utterly ignoring the right and title of those
then in possession of the coveted lands, yielded them their wish. After
the Restoration this grant was renewed, and in 1672 his Majesty went
further still and was pleased to grant away the whole colony, with very
few restrictions, to Lords Arlington and Culpeper. Not only were their
Lordships to be enriched by the royal quit-rents and escheats, and to
enjoy the sole right of granting lands, but through the privilege
likewise given them of appointment of sheriffs, surveyors, and other
officers, the power of executing the laws and collecting the taxes, and
of dividing the colony into counties and parishes and setting boundary
lines was to be practically in their hands.

Thus upon the fair bosom of Virginia, already torn and fretted by a host
of distresses, was it purposed that these two "Lords Proprietors" should
be let loose--their greed for gain to be held in check only by the
limitations of the colony's resources--through a dreary waste of
thirty-one years.

The colonists, foreseeing that all manner of dishonesty and corruption
in public affairs would be the certain and swift result of such large
powers, cast about for a remedy, and at length determined to send a
commission to England to raise a voice against the ruinous grant and to
bribe the hawks away from their prey. So far so good; but to meet the
expenses of the commission the poll-tax was greatly increased, so that
while the landholders were to be relieved by having their rights
restored, the "poorer sort" were made poorer than ever by being required
to pay sixty pounds of tobacco per head for that relief. This unjust tax
was a crowning point to all that the people had suffered, and a
suppressed groan, like the threatenings of a distant but surely and
steadily approaching storm, arose, not in one settlement, not in one
county, but from one end of Virginia to another, even to the remotest
borders of the colony.

While this black enough tempest was brewing about the path of the
Governor and the "grandees," another and a still darker cloud suddenly
arose in an unexpected quarter and burst with frightful fury upon the
heads of the unhappy people, the chiefest among whose "grievances" now
became their daily and hourly terror of the Indians, made worse by the
fact that their Governor was deaf to all their cries for protection.

Indeed, the savages, not the colonists, were the protected ones, for the
gain from the Indian beaver and otter fur trade, which the Governor and
his friends monopolized, was believed to be a stronger argument with Sir
William Berkeley for keeping in league with the red men than the
massacre of the King's subjects was for making war upon them. The
helpless people could only shake their heads despairingly and whisper
under their breath, "Bullets cannot pierce beaver skins."

In a "Complaint from Heaven, with a Huy and Crye and a Petition out of
Virginia and Maryland. To Owr great Gratious Kinge and souveraigne
Charles ye ii King of Engel'd etc. with his parliament," it is charged
that "Old Governr. Barkly, altered by marrying a young Wyff, from his
wonted publicq good, to a covetous Fole-age, relished Indians presents
with some that hath a like feelinge, so wel, that many Christians Blood
is Pokketed up wth other mischievs, in so mutch that his lady tould,
that it would bee the overthrow of ye Country."

The most ghastly accounts of the sly and savage incursions of the
Indians, and of the way in which they served their victims, such as
flaying them alive, knocking out their teeth with clubs and tearing out
their finger-nails and toe-nails, flew from lip to lip. The
terror-stricken planters upon the frontiers and more exposed places
deserted their homes, left the crops upon which they depended for
existence to waste and ruin, and huddled together in the more sheltered
places, still not knowing "upon whom the storm would light."

Truly was the colony under the "greatest distractions" it had known
since the frightful Indian massacre of the year 1622.

In such a state of horror and demoralization, and remembering all that
those of earlier times had suffered, no wonder the colonists did not
question whether the natives had any rights to be considered, and came
to scarcely regard them as human beings, or that the sentiment "the only
good Indian is a dead Indian" should have prevailed. Indeed, the one
chance for the divine law of the survival of the fittest to be carried
out in Virginia seemed to be in the prompt and total extermination of
the red race.




III.

THE REIGN OF TERROR.


The beginning of serious war with the Indians happened in this wise. One
Sunday morning in the summer of 1675, as some of the settlers of
Stafford County took their way peacefully to church, with no thought of
immediate danger in their minds, they were greeted, as they passed the
house of one Robert Hen, a herdsman, by the ghastly spectacle of the
bloodstained bodies of Hen himself, and an Indian, lying across Hen's
doorstep. Though scarred with the gashes of the deadly tomahawk, life
was not quite gone out of the body of the white man, and with his last
breath he gasped, "Doegs--Doegs," the name of a most hostile tribe of
Indians.

At once the alarm was given and the neighborhood was in an uproar.
Experience had taught the Virginians that such a deed as had been
committed was but a beginning of horrors and that there was no telling
who the next victim might be. Colonel Giles Brent, commander of the
horse, and Colonel George Mason, commander of the foot soldiers of
Stafford County,--both of them living about six or eight miles from the
scene of the tragedy,--with all speed gathered a force of some thirty
men and gave chase to the murderers. They followed them for twenty miles
up the Potomac River and then across into Maryland (which colony was
then at peace with the Indians), firing upon all the red men they saw
without taking time to find out whether or not they were of the
offending tribe. In Maryland, Colonels Brent and Mason divided the men
under them into two parties and continued their chase, taking different
directions. Soon each party came upon, and surrounded, an Indian cabin.
Colonel Brent shot the king of the Doegs who was in the cabin found by
him, and took his son, a boy eight years old, prisoner. The Indians
fired a few shots from within the cabin and were fired upon by the white
men without. Finally the Indians rushed from the doors and fled. The
noise of the guns aroused the Indians in the cabin--a short distance
away--surrounded by Colonel Mason's men, and they fled with Mason's men
following and firing upon them, until one of them turning back rushed up
to Mason and shaking him by both hands said, "Susquehannocks--friends!"
and turned and fled. Whereupon Colonel Mason ran among his men, crying
out,

"For the Lord's sake, shoot no more! These are our friends the
Susquehannocks!"

The Susquehannocks were an exceedingly fierce tribe of Indians but were,
just then, at peace with the English settlers.

Colonels Mason and Brent returned to Virginia, taking with them the
little son of the chief of the Doegs; but as murders continued to be
committed upon both sides of the Potomac, Maryland (which was now drawn
into the embroglio) and Virginia soon afterward raised between them a
thousand men in the hope of putting a stop to the trouble. The
Virginians were commanded by Col. John Washington (great-grandfather of
General Washington) and Col. Isaac Allerton. These troops laid siege to
a stronghold of the Susquehannocks, in Maryland. The siege lasted seven
weeks. During it the besiegers brought down upon themselves bitter
hatred by putting to death five out of six of the Susquehannocks' "great
men" who were sent out to treat of peace. They alleged, by way of
excuse, that they recognized in the "great men" some of the murderers of
their fellow-countrymen. At the end of the seven weeks, during which
fifty of the besiegers were killed, the Susquehannocks silently escaped
from their fort in the middle of the night, "knocking on the head" ten
of their sleeping foes, by way of a characteristic leave-taking, as they
passed them upon the way out. Leaving the rest to guard the cage in
blissful ignorance that the birds were flown, the Indians crossed over
into Virginia as far as the head of James River. Instead of the notched
trees that were wont to serve as landmarks in the pioneer days, these
infuriated Indians left behind them a pathway marked by gaping wounds
upon the bodies of white men, women, and children. They swore to have
still further revenge for the loss of their "great men," each of whose
lives, they said, was worth the lives of ten of the Englishmen, who were
of inferior rank, while their ambassadors were "men of quality."

Sir William Berkeley afterward rebuked the besiegers before the Grand
Assembly for their breach of faith, saying,

"If they had killed my grandfather and grandmother, my father and mother
and all of my friends, yet if they had come to treat of peace they ought
to have gone in peace."

The English held that the savages were utterly treacherous, their
treaties of peace were dishonored by themselves and were therefore
unworthy of being kept by others.

An investigation made by Governor Berkeley showed that neither of the
Virginia officers was responsible for the shabby piece of work.

However faithless the Indians may have been in most matters, they were
as good as their word touching their vengeance for the loss of their
"men of quality." About the first of the new year a party of them made a
sudden raid upon the upper plantations of the Potomac and Rappahannock
rivers, massacred thirty-six persons, and fled to the woods. News of
this disaster was quickly carried to the Governor, who for once seemed
to respond to the need of his people. He called a court and placed a
competent force to march against the Indians under command of Sir Henry
Chicheley and some other gentlemen of Rappahannock County, giving them
full power, by commission, to make peace or war. When all things had
been made ready for the party to set out, however, Governor Berkeley,
with exasperating fickleness, changed his mind, withdrew the commission,
and ordered the men to be disbanded, and so no steps were taken for the
defense of the colony against the daily and hourly dangers that lurked
in the forests, threatened the homes and haunted the steps of the
planters--robbing life in Virginia of the freedom and peace which had
been its chief charm.

The poor Virginians were not "under continual and deadly fears and
terrors of their lives" without reason. As a result of their Governor's
unpardonable tardiness in giving them protection, the number of
plantations in the neighborhood of the massacre was in about a
fortnight's brief space reduced from seventy-one to eleven. Some of the
settlers had deserted their firesides and taken refuge in the heart of
the country, and others had been destroyed by the savages.

Not until March did the Assembly meet to take steps for the safety and
defense of the colonists, three hundred of whom had by that time been
cut off, and then, under Governor Berkeley's influence, the only action
taken was the establishment of forts at the heads of the rivers and on
the frontiers, and of course heavy taxes were laid upon the people to
build and maintain them. These fortifications afforded no real defense,
as the garrisons within them were prohibited from firing upon Indians
without special permission from the Governor, and were only a new burden
upon the people. The building of the forts may have been an honest
(though unwise and insufficient) attempt at protection of the colony,
but the people would not believe it. They saw in them only expensive
"mousetraps," for whose bait they were to pay, while they were sure that
the shrewd Indians would continue their outrages without coming
dangerously near such easily avoided snares. They declared that,
scattered about as the forts were, they gave no more protection than so
many extra plantations with men in them; that their erection was "a
great grievance, juggle and cheat," and only "a design of the grandees
to engross all of the tobacco into their own hands." In their
indignation the planters vowed that rather than pay taxes to support the
forts they would plant no more tobacco.

So often had the Governor of Virginia mocked them with fair but
unfulfilled promises, so often temporized and parried words with them
while their lives were in jeopardy and the terror-stricken cries of
their wives and children were sounding "grievous and intolerable" in
their ears, that those whom he was in honor bound to protect had lost
all faith in him and all hope of obtaining any relief from him or his
Assembly. Finally, as Sir William Berkeley would not send his forces
against the murderers, the suffering planters resolved to take matters
into their own hands and to raise forces amongst themselves, only they
first humbly craved of him the sanction of his commission for any
commanders whom he should choose to lead them in defense of their "lives
and estates, which without speedy prevention, lie liable to the injury
of such insulting enemies." The petitioners assured Sir William that
they had no desire to "make any disturbance or put the country to any
charge," but with characteristic lack of sympathy he bluntly refused to
grant their request and forbade a repetition of it, "under great
penalty."

The people's fears and discontent steadily increased. It seemed more
and more evident that Governor Berkeley was protecting their murderous
enemies for his own gain, for (they charged) after having prohibited all
traffic with the Indians, he had, privately, given commission to some of
his friends to truck with them, and these favorites had supplied them
with the very arms and ammunition that were intended for the protection
of the colonists against their savagery. The red men were thus better
provided with arms than his Majesty's subjects, who had "no other
ingredients" from which to manufacture munitions of war but "prayers and
misspent intreaties, which having vented to no purpose, and finding
their condition every whit as bad, if not worse, than before the forts
were made," they resolved to cease looking to the Governor for aid and
to take the steps that seemed to them necessary for defense and
preservation of themselves and those dear to them. In other words, since
their petition for a commission to march against the Indians was denied
them, they would march without a commission, thus venturing not only
their lives, but the tyrannical old Governor's displeasure for the sake
of their firesides.

With this end in view, the dwellers in the neighborhood of Merchant's
Hope Plantation, in Charles City County, on James River, began to "beat
up drums for Volunteers to go out against the Indians, and soe continued
Sundry dayes drawing into Armes." The magistrates, either for fear or
favor, made no attempt to prevent "soe dangerous a beginning & going
on," and a commander and head seemed all that was needed to perfect the
design and lead it on to success.

Such, then, was the condition of the little colony which had struggled
and hoped and hoped and struggled again, until now hope seemed to have
withdrawn her light altogether, and a despairing struggle to be all that
was left.




IV.

ENTER, MR. BACON.


Throughout all history of all lands, at the supreme moment when any
country whatsoever has seemed to stand in suspense debating whether to
give itself over to despair or to gather its energies for one last blow
at oppression, the mysterious star of destiny has seemed to plant
itself--a fixed star--above the head of some one man who has been (it
may be) raised up for the time and the need, and who has appeared, under
that star's light, to have more of the divine in him than his brother
mortals. To him other men turn as to a savior, vowing to follow his
guidance to the death; upon his head women call down Heaven's blessings,
while in their hearts they enshrine him as something akin to a god.
Oftentimes such men fall far short of their aims, yet their failures
are like to be more glorious than common victories. The star that led
them on in life does not desert them in death--it casts a tender glow
upon their memory, and through the tears of those who would have laid
down their lives for them it takes on the softened radiance of the
martyr's crown.

Other times and other countries have had their leaders, their heroes,
their martyrs--Virginia, in 1676, had her Nathaniel Bacon.

This young man was said to be a "gentleman of no obscure family." He
was, indeed, a cousin of Nathaniel Bacon, Sr., the highly esteemed
president of the Virginia Council of State, who remained loyal to the
government during the rebellion against Sir William Berkeley's rule, and
is said to have offered to make his belligerent relative his heir if he
would remain loyal, too. The first of the family of whom anything is
known was Robert Bacon, of Drinkstone, who married Isabella Cage and had
two sons, one of whom was Sir Nicholas Bacon, Lord Keeper, and father of
the great Lord Bacon; and the other James Bacon, Alderman of London,
who died in 1573. Alderman Bacon's son, Sir James Bacon, of Friston
Hall, married his cousin Elizabeth, daughter and heiress of Francis
Bacon, of Hessett, and had two sons, James Bacon, Rector of Burgate
(father of President Nathaniel, of Virginia), and Nathaniel Bacon, of
Friston Hall, who married Anne, daughter of Sir Thomas De Grasse, of
Norfolk, England, and died in 1644. Nathaniel and Elizabeth Bacon were
the parents of Thomas Bacon, of Friston, who married Elizabeth, daughter
of Sir Robert Brooke, of Yexford. Nathaniel Bacon, Jr., styled "the
Rebel," was their son.

This Nathaniel Bacon was born on January 2, 1647, at Friston Hall, and
was educated at Cambridge University--entering St. Catherine's College
there in his fourteenth year and taking his A.M. degree in his
twenty-first. In the mean time he had seen "many Forraigne Parts,"
having set out with Ray, the naturalist; Skipton, and a party of
gentlemen, in April, 1663, upon "a journey made through part of the Low
Countries, Germany, Italy, France." A quaint account of all they saw,
written by Skippon, may be found in "Churchill's Voyages." In 1664 young
Bacon entered Grey's Inn. In 1674 he was married to Mistress Elizabeth
Duke, daughter of Sir Edward Duke, and in that year his history becomes
a subject of interest to Virginians, for in the autumn or winter he set
sail with his bride, in a ship bound for Jamestown, to make or mar his
fortune in a new world. The young couple soon made a home for themselves
at "Curles Neck," some twenty miles below the site afterward chosen by
Colonel William Byrd for the city of Richmond, and about forty miles
above Jamestown. This plantation afterward became famous in Virginia as
one of the seats of the Randolph family. Bacon had a second plantation,
which he called "Bacon's Quarter," within the present limits of
Richmond, but his residence was at "Curles."

The newcomer's high connections, natural talents--improved as they had
been by cultivation and travel--and magnetic personality evidently
brought him speedy distinction in Virginia, for he at once began to
take a prominent part in public affairs, was made a member of his
Majesty's Council, and soon enjoyed the reputation of being the "most
accomplished man in the colony."

Ere long, too, it became apparent that the heart of this marked man was
with the people. Encouraged by his sympathy they poured their
lamentations into his ears, and along with his pity for their helpless
and hopeless condition a mighty wrath against Governor Berkeley took
possession of his impetuous soul. "If the redskins meddle with me, damn
my blood," he cried--with what Governor Berkeley called his "usual"
oath--"but I'll harry them, commission or no commission!" Soon enough
the "redskins" did "meddle" with him, murdering his overseer, to whom he
was warmly attached, at "Bacon's Quarter," and, as will be seen, he
proved himself to be a man as good as his word.

And so it happened that upon this newcomer the whole country, ripe for
rebellion, casting about for a leading spirit to give the signal for
the uprising, set its hope and its love. In him choice had fallen upon
one who had the courage to plan and the ability to put into execution,
and who, for want of a commission from the Governor to lead a campaign
against the Indians accepted one "from the people's affections, signed
by the emergencies of affairs and the country's danger."

Though only twenty-nine years of age when he was called, of a sudden, to
take so large a part in the history of Virginia, Nathaniel Bacon looked
to be "about four or five and thirty." No friendly brush or pen has left
us a portrait of him, but the Royal Commissioners, sent over after the
Rebellion to "enquire into the affairs of the colony," give us the
impression which they gathered from all they heard of him. In their
words he was "Indifferent tall but slender, black-haired, and of an
ominous, pensive, melancholy aspect, of a pestilent and prevalent
logical discourse tending to atheism in most companies, not given to
much talk, or to make sudden replies; of a most imperious and dangerous
hidden pride of heart, despising the wisest of his neighbors for their
ignorance and very ambitious and arrogant."

Verily, a lively and interesting picture, for even an enemy to paint.

His temperament and personality were as striking as his appearance and
manner. He was nervous and full of energy; determined, self-reliant and
fearless; quick and clear of thought and prompt to act. In speaking, he
was enthusiastic and impassioned, and full of eloquence and spirit, and
if he had been born a hundred years or so later would doubtless have
been dubbed a "silver-tongued orator." He was a man born to sway the
hearts of his fellows, which he understood and drew after him with
magnetic power, and upon which he could play with the sureness of a
master of music touching the keys of a delicate musical instrument.

Such was the man toward whom in the hour of despair the hopes of the
Virginians turned--such the man who declared his willingness to "stand
in the gap" between the commonalty and the "grandees," and with true
Patrick Henry-like devotion, to risk home, fortune, life itself, in the
cause of freedom from tyranny.

One day a group of four prominent Virginia planters were talking
together and, naturally, made the "sadness of the times and the fear
they all lived in" the subject of their conversation. These gentlemen
were Captain James Crews, of "Turkey Island,"[47:A] Henrico County;
Henry Isham, Colonel William Byrd (first of the name), and Nathaniel
Bacon. They were all near neighbors, and lived in the region most
exposed and subject to the Indian horrors--Squire Bacon's overseer
having been among the latest victims. Their talk also turned upon the
little army of volunteers that was collecting in Charles City County, on
the other side of the river, to march against the Indians. Captain Crews
told them that he had suggested Bacon to lead the campaign, and the two
other gentlemen at once joined him in urging Squire Bacon to go over
and see the troops, and finally persuaded him to do so. No sooner did
the soldiers see him approaching than from every throat arose a great
shout of, "A Bacon! A Bacon! A Bacon!"

The young man's companions urged him to accept the proffered leadership
and promised to serve under him; his own ambition and enthusiasm caught
fire from the warmth of such an ardent greeting, and without more ado he
became "General Bacon, by consent of the people."

In a letter to England, describing the state of affairs in the colony,
and his connection with them, he wrote how, "Finding that the country
was basely, for a small, sordid gain, betrayed, and the lives of the
poor inhabitants wretchedly sacrificed," he "resolved to stand in this
ruinous gap" and to expose his "life and fortune to all hazards." His
quick and sympathetic response to their call "greatly cheered and
animated the populace," who saw in him the "only patron of the country
and preserver of their lives and fortunes, so that their whole hearts
and hopes were set upon him."

To a man like Nathaniel Bacon it would have been impossible to do
anything by halves. Having once for all committed himself to the
people's cause, he threw his whole heart and soul into the work before
him, and recognizing the danger of delay and the importance of letting
stroke follow stroke while the iron of enthusiasm was still aglow, he
began at once to gather his forces and to plan the Indian campaign.

The excited volunteers crowded around him and he "listed" them as fast
as they offered themselves, "upon a large paper, writing their names
circular-wise, that their ring leaders might not be found out." Having
"conjured them into this circle," he "gave them brandy to wind up the
charm," and drink success to the undertaking, and had them to take an
oath to "stick fast" to each other and to him, and then went on to New
Kent County to enlist the people thereabouts.


FOOTNOTES:

[47:A] Afterward the seat of William Randolph, first of the Randolph
family in Virginia.




V.

THE INDIAN WAR-PATH.


It was about the end of April, when the glad sight of the countryside
bursting into life and blossom and throbbing with the fair promise of
spring doubtless added buoyancy to hearts already cheered by the hope of
brighter days, that Nathaniel Bacon at the head of three hundred
men-in-arms, set out upon the Indian warpath. Sir William Berkeley, in a
rage at their daring to take steps for their own defense without a
commission from him, but powerless to put a stop to such unheard-of
proceedings, promptly proclaimed leader and followers "rebels and
mutineers," and getting a troop of soldiers together, set out toward the
falls of James River, in hot pursuit, resolved either to overtake and
capture "General" Bacon, or to seize him on his return. This proved to
be a wild-goose chase, however, for the little army of "rebels" had
already crossed to the south side of James River and was marching
"through boush, through briar," toward the haunts of the savages,
whither the Governor's train-bands had little appetite to follow.

The enraged Berkeley, finding his will thwarted, waited patiently for
the return of the doughty three hundred, taking what grim satisfaction
he could find in telling young Mistress Elizabeth Bacon that her husband
would hang as soon as he came back, in issuing, upon May 10, another
proclamation against the "young, inexperienced, rash and inconsiderate,"
general and his "rude, dissolute and tumultuous" followers, and in
deposing Bacon from his seat in the "honorable Council" and from his
office as a magistrate.

Meanwhile, Nathaniel Bacon and his men, regardless of the anxiety with
which Governor Berkeley watched for their return, were pressing on
through the wilderness. When they had marched "a great way to the
south"--had crossed into Carolina, indeed--and their supplies were
nearly spent, they came upon a little island (probably in Roanoke River)
seated by the Ockinagee Indians, one of the tribes said to have been
protected by Berkeley for sake of the fur trade, and doubtless the same
as the Mangoaks, rumors of whose great trade with the Indians of the
northwest, for copper, had been brought to Sir Walter Raleigh's colony.
These Ockinagees, who were very likely a branch of the great Dakota
family of Indians, were evidently a most enterprising people, and their
isle was a veritable center of commerce among the red-skin inhabitants
of that region. It was described as "commodious for trade, and the mart
for all the Indians for at least five hundred miles" around. Its
residents had at that time on hand no less than a thousand beaver skins
of which Sir William Berkeley and his partners would in due time,
doubtless, have become possessed, and it was supposed to have been
through trade with these Islanders that arms and ammunition were passed
on to the fierce Susquehannock braves.

When Bacon reached the island he saw at once that it would be nothing
short of madness to pit his handful of foot-sore and half-starved men
against the combined strength of the Ockinagees and the Susquehannocks,
so, adopting a policy patterned after the savages' own crafty methods of
warfare, he made friends with one tribe and persuaded them to fall upon
the other. The result was a furious battle between the two tribes in
which thirty Susquehannock warriors and all of their women and children
were killed. By this time Bacon's men were in a sorry plight for the
want of provisions. They offered to buy food from their new-made
friends, the Ockinagees, who promised them relief on the morrow, but
when the next day came put them off again with talk of still another
"morrow." In the mean time, they were evidently making preparations for
battle. They had reinforced their three forts upon the island, and were
seen to grow more and more warlike in their attitude as the pale faces
grew weaker in numbers and in physical strength. To add to the
desperate situation, there came a report that the Indians had received
private messages from Governor Berkeley.

Bacon's men had, in their eagerness to procure food, "waded shoulder
deep through the river," to one of the island forts, "still entreating
and tendering pay for the victuals," but all to no avail. While the
half-starved creatures stood in the water, with hands stretched out,
still begging for bread, one of them was struck by a shot fired from the
mainland, by an Indian. The luckless shot proved to be the signal for a
hideous battle. Bacon, knowing full well that retreat meant starvation
for himself and his devoted little band of followers, believing that the
savages within the fort had sent for others to cut them off in their
rear, but not losing the presence of mind that armed him for every
emergency, quickly drew his men close against the fort where their
enemies could get no range upon them, and ordering them to poke their
guns between the stakes of the palisades, fired without
discrimination--without mercy. All through the night and until late
into the next day the wilderness echoed with the yells of the wounded
and dying savages and with the gun-shots of the hunger-crazed palefaces.

Let us not forget that this battle was the last resort of an army which
championed the cause of the people of Virginia, and upon whose steps the
horrors of murder, torture, and starvation waited momently. Let us also
not forget that the time was the seventeenth century, the place a
wilderness, the provocation an attempt not merely to shut the
Anglo-Saxon race from the shores of the New World, but to wipe out with
hatchet and torch the Anglo-Saxon homes which were already planted
there.

When at last, after a loss of eleven of their own hardy comrades, the
exhausted Baconians withdrew from the fray, the island fort had been
entirely demolished and vast numbers of the Indians slain.

While Sir William Berkeley possessed his soul in as much patience as he
could command at the Falls of the James, lying in wait for Bacon's
return, the inhabitants farther down toward Jamestown began to "draw
into arms," and to proclaim against the useless and costly forts. Open
war with the Indians was the one thing that would content them, and war
they were bent upon having. They vowed that they would make war upon all
Indians who would not "come in with their arms" and give hostages for
their fidelity and pledge themselves to join with the English against
all others. "If we must be hanged for rebels for killing those that will
destroy us," said they, "let them hang us; we will venture that rather
than lie at the mercy of a barbarous enemy and be murdered as we are."

In a "Manifesto," defending the rights of the people, issued soon after
his return, Bacon made a scornful and spirited reply to Governor
Berkeley's charges of rebellion and treason. "If virtue be a sin," said
he, "if piety be 'gainst all the principles of morality, goodness and
justice be perverted, we must confess that those who are now called
rebels may be in danger of those high imputations, those loud and
several bulls would affright innocents and render the defence of our
brethren and the inquiry into our sad and heavy oppressions treason. But
if here be, as sure is, a just God to appeal to, if religion and justice
be a sanctuary here, if to plead the cause of the oppressed, if
sincerely to aim at his Majesty's honor and the public good without any
reservation or by-interest, if to stand in the gap after so much blood
of our dear brethren bought and sold, if after the loss of a great part
of his Majesty's colony, deserted and dispeopled, freely with our lives
and estates to endeavor to save the remainders, be treason, Lord
Almighty judge and let the guilty die." Can it be that these words were
in the mind of Patrick Henry, when, nearly a hundred years later, he
cried, "If this be treason, make the most of it"?




VI.

THE JUNE ASSEMBLY.


Governor Berkeley, finding the wrath of the people past his control,
gave up for the time the chase after Bacon, returned home, and to
appease the people, not only had the offensive forts dismantled, but
even, upon the 18th of May, dissolved the legislature that had
established them, and for the first time for fourteen years gave orders
for the election of a new free Assembly. This Assembly, whose immediate
work, the Governor declared, should be to settle the "distracted"
condition of Virginia, was "new" in more senses than one, for, departing
from the usual custom of electing only freeholders to represent them,
some of the counties chose men "that had but lately crept out of the
condition of servants," for their Burgesses. Thus showing the strong
democratic feeling that had arisen, to the exasperation of the
aristocratic Berkeley.

Bacon had by this time returned from his march into the wilderness and
the countryside was ringing with glowing reports of his success against
the Indians. The people welcomed him with wild enthusiasm, for they not
only regarded him as their champion against the brutalities of savages,
but attributed to him the calling of the new Assembly, to which they
looked for relief from the "hard times." Their hopes, as will be seen,
were not doomed to disappointment.

A short time before the meeting of this "June Assembly," as it was
commonly called, Bacon made his friend and neighbor, Captain Crews, the
bearer of a letter from him to Sir William Berkeley, in which he said:

"Sir: Loyalty to our King and obedience to your Honor as his Majesty's
servant or chief commander here, under him, this was generally the
preface in all my proceedings to all men, declaring that I abhorred
rebellion or the opposing of laws or government, and if that your Honor
were in person to lead or command, I would follow and obey, and that if
nobody were present, though I had no order, I would still adventure to
go in defence of the country against all Indians in general, for that
they were all our enemies; this I have always said and do maintain, but
as to the injury or violation of your power, interest, or personal
safety, I always accounted magistracy sacred and the justness of your
authority a sanctuary; I have never otherwise said, nor ever will have
any other thoughts."

Continuing, he says that he does not believe the rumors of the
Governor's threats against his (Bacon's) life, which are "daily and
hourly brought to my ears," and wishes that "his Honor" were as willing
to distrust the various reports of him. He says his conscience is too
clear to fear and his resolution too well grounded to let him
discontinue his course, and closes his letter with these words:

"I dare be as brave as I am innocent, who am, in spite of all your high
resentment, unfeignedly, your Honor's humble and obedient servant."

Madam Byrd, who had been driven from her home by fear of the Indians,
said in a letter to a friend in England that neither Mr. Bacon nor any
with him had injured any Englishman in their persons or estates, that
the country was well pleased with what he had done, and she believed the
council was too, "so far as they durst show it." "Most of those with Mr.
Bacon," she wrote, "were substantial householders who bore their own
charges in this war against the Indians." She added that she had heard
that Bacon had told his men that he "would punish any man severely that
should dare to speak a word against the Governor or government."

Henrico County chose Nathaniel Bacon to represent it in the new House of
Burgesses, and Captain Crewes was also sent from that county. Although
the voters were resolved to give their darling a voice in the Assembly,
however, they were loth to trust his person in the midst of so many
dangers as they knew lurked about Jamestown for him. Madam Elizabeth
Bacon, proudly writing of her young husband, to her sister in England,
under date June 29, says, "The country does so really love him that they
would not leave him alone anywhere."

And so, accompanied by a body-guard of forty armed men, the newly
elected Burgess of Henrico set sail in a sloop for Jamestown. When he
had passed Swan's Point, a mile or two above the town, he dropped anchor
and sent a messenger ashore to inquire of the Governor whether or not he
might land in safety and take his seat as a member of the Assembly.
Governor Berkeley's only answer was delivered promptly, and with no
uncertain sound, from the savage mouths of the "great guns" on the
ramparts of the town fort--whereupon Bacon moved his sloop higher up the
river. After nightfall, accompanied by a party of his men, he ventured
on shore and went to "Mr. Lawrence's house" in the town, where he had an
interview with his good friends Mr. Lawrence and Mr. Drummond, and then
returned to the sloop without having been seen. These two friends of
Bacon's were gentlemen of prominence and wealth in the colony. Their
houses were the best built and the best furnished in Jamestown, and
Richard Lawrence was a scholar as well as a "gentleman and a man of
property," for he was a graduate of Oxford, and was known to his
contemporaries as "thoughtful Mr. Lawrence." His accomplishments, added
to a genial and gracious temper, made him a favorite with both the
humble and the great, and he had the honor to represent Jamestown in the
House of Burgesses. He had married a rich widow who kept a fashionable
inn at Jamestown, and their house was a rendezvous for persons of the
best quality. Mr. Lawrence was cordially hated by Governor Berkeley and
his friends, one of whom dubbed him "that atheistical and scandalous
person."

Mr. Drummond, "a sober Scotch Gentleman of good repute," had at one time
been Governor of North Carolina. He was noted for wisdom and honesty,
and an admirer said of him, "His dimensions are not to be taken by the
line of an ordinary capacity"; but the Governor's caustic friend,
already quoted, has placed him on record as "that perfidious Scot."

We shall hear more of these two gentlemen hereafter.

At length, finding no hope of meeting with a more hospitable greeting
from the Governor of Virginia than that which he had already received,
the "Rebel" set his sails homeward; but, in obedience to Governor
Berkeley's orders, Captain Gardner, master of the ship _Adam and Eve_,
which lay a little way up the river, headed him off, and "commanded his
sloop in" by firing upon him from aboard ship, arrested him and his
guard, and delivered them up to the Governor, in Jamestown. Within the
State House there a bit of drama was then acted in the presence of the
amazed Assembly--Governor Berkeley and Mr. Bacon playing the principal
parts. In this scene the fair-spoken Governor's feigned clemency was
well-matched by the prisoner's feigned repentance, for Berkeley found it
prudent to be careful of the person of a man in whose defense the
excited people were ready to lay down their lives, and Bacon found it
equally prudent to seem to believe in the friendship of one who he knew
hated him with all the venom of his bitter heart, and doubtless also
realized that to accept the proffered clemency, however insincere he
might know it to be, was the likeliest way of obtaining the coveted
commission to continue his Indian campaign, and to gain admission to his
seat in the Assembly, by which he hoped to raise his voice in behalf of
the oppressed commonalty of Virginia.

The Governor, looking at Bacon, but addressing himself to the Assembly,
said:

"Now I behold the greatest rebel that ever was in Virginia." Then,
addressing himself to the prisoner, he questioned, "Sir, do you continue
to be a gentleman, and may I take your word? If so you are at liberty
upon your own parole."

Upon which Mr. Bacon expressed deep gratitude for so much favor.

On the next day the Governor stood up during the session of the Council,
sitting as upper house of the Assembly, and said:

"If there be joy in the presence of angels over one sinner that
repenteth, there is joy now, for we have a penitent come before us. Call
Mr. Bacon."

Mr. Bacon came forward, and dropping upon his knee, in mock humility,
presented his Honor with a paper which he had drawn up, pleading guilty
of the crime of rebellion and disobedience and throwing himself upon the
mercy of the court.

Governor Berkeley forthwith declared him restored to favor, saying three
times over, "God forgive you, I forgive you!"

Colonel Cole, of the Council, put in, "And all that were with him."

"Yea," quoth Sir William Berkeley, "and all that were with him"--meaning
the Rebel's body-guard who had been captured in the sloop with him, and
were then lying in irons.

Governor Berkeley furthermore extended his clemency to the culprit by
restoring him to his former place in the Council of State,--"his
Majesty's Council," as the Virginians loved to call it,--made him a
positive promise of the much-desired commission to march against the
Indians, and even suffered Captain Gardner, of the ship _Adam and Eve_,
to be fined the sum of seventy pounds damage and in default of payment
to be thrown into jail, for seizing Bacon and his sloop, according to
his own express orders.

Bacon's friends had been thrown into an uproar at the news of his
arrest, and some of them made "dreadful threatenings to double revenge
all wrongs" to their champion and his guard; but all were now so pleased
at the happy turn of affairs that "every man with great gladness
returned to his own home."

And so it happened that Mr. Nathaniel Bacon, so lately dubbed a "rebel"
and a "mutineer," took his seat, not merely in the House of Burgesses,
but in the more distinguished body, "his Majesty's Council." The Council
chamber was upon the first floor of the State House, that occupied by
the Burgesses' upon the second. The Burgesses, as they filed upstairs to
take their places, that afternoon, saw, through the open door of the
Council chamber, a surprising sight,--"Mr. Bacon on his quondam
seat,"--and to at least one of them it seemed "a marvelous indulgence"
after all that had happened.

The session was distinctly one of reform. Nathaniel Bacon was determined
to make the best of his hard-earned advantage while he had it, and he at
once made his influence felt in the Assembly. He was now strong with
both Burgesses and Council, who were won, in spite of any prejudices
they may have had, to acknowledge the personal charm and the executive
genius of the daring youth. He promptly set about revising and improving
the laws. Universal suffrage was restored, a general inspection of
public expenses and auditing of public accounts was ordered, and laws
were enacted requiring frequent election of vestries by the people, and
prohibiting all trade with the Indians, long terms of office, excessive
fees, and the sale of spirituous liquors. Some of the most unpopular
leaders of the Governor's party were debarred from holding any public
office.

The wisdom of the Rebel's legislation was to be later set forth by the
fact that after his death, when the fascination of a personality which
had bent men's wills to its own was no longer felt, and when his name
was held in contempt by many who failed to understand him or his
motives, the people of Virginia clamored for the reestablishment of
"Bacon's Laws," which upon his downfall had been repealed; and in
February, 1676-7, many of them were actually re-enacted--with only their
titles changed.

Governor Berkeley, finding it beyond his power to stem the tide of
reformation which tossed the old man about like a leaf whose little
summer is past,--a tide by which his former glory seemed to be utterly
submerged and blotted out,--pleaded sickness as an excuse to get away
from it all, and take refuge within his own home, but in vain. Not until
he had placed his signature to each one of the acts passed for the
relief of the people and correction of the existing abuses would Bacon
permit him to stir a step.

But the Assembly was not wholly taken up with revising the laws. It
devoted much attention to planning the Indian campaign to be carried on
under "General Bacon," for which 1,000 men and provisions were provided.
For this little army we are told that some volunteered to enlist and
others were talked into doing so by members of the Council--Councillor
Ballard being especially zealous in the work. It was also decided to
enlist the aid of the Pamunkey Indians, who were descendants of
Powhatan's braves, and had been allies of the English against other
tribes. Accordingly, the "Queen of Pamunkey" was invited to appear
before the House of Burgesses and say what she would do. The "Queen" at
this time commanded a hundred and fifty warriors. She was the widow of
the "mighty Totapotamoy" who had led a hundred warriors, in aid of the
English, at the battle of "Bloody Run," and was slain with most of his
men. The Association for the Preservation of Virginia Antiquities
possesses an interesting relic in what is known as the "Indian
Crown,"--a silver frontlet presented to the "Queen of Pamunkey" by the
English Government, as a testimonial of friendship.

This forest queen is said to have "entered the chamber with a
comportment graceful to admiration, bringing on her right hand an
Englishman interpreter, and on her left her son, a stripling twenty
years of age, she having round her head a plait of black and white
wampumpeag, three inches broad, in imitation of a crown, and was clothed
in a mantle of dressed deerskins with the hair outwards and the edge cut
round six inches deep, which made strings resembling twisted fringe from
the shoulders to the feet; thus with grave courtlike gestures and a
majestic air in her face, she walked up our long room to the lower end
of the table, where after a few entreaties, she sat down; the
interpreter and her son standing by her on either side, as they had
walked up."

When the chairman of the House addressed her she refused to answer
except through the interpreter, though it was believed that she
understood all that was said. Finally, when the interpreter had made
known to her that the House desired to know how many men she would lend
her English friends for guides in the wilderness against her own and
their "enemy Indians," she uttered, "with an earnest, passionate
countenance, as if tears were ready to gush out," and a "high, shrill
voice," a "harangue," in which the only intelligible words were,
"Totapotamoy dead! Totapotamoy dead!" Colonel Edward Hill, whose father
had commanded the English at the battle of "Bloody Run," and who was
present, it is written, "shook his head."

In spite of this tragic "harangue," the House pressed her to say how
many Indians she would spare for the campaign. She "sat mute till that
same question being pressed a third time, she, not returning her face to
the board, answered, with a low, slighting voice, in her own language,
_Six_. But being further importuned, she, sitting a little while sullen,
without uttering a word between, said _Twelve_. . . . and so rose up and
walked gravely away, as not pleased with her treatment."

While Bacon was dictating laws in Virginia, making ready for the march
against the Indians and at the same time preparing a defense of himself
for the King, his father, Thomas Bacon, of Friston Hall, England, was on
bended knee before his Majesty pleading with him to withhold judgment
against the rash young man until he could obtain a full account of his
part in the troubles in the colony, concerning which startling tales had
already been carried across the water.




VII.

THE COMMISSION.


At last the Grand Assembly's work was done and everything but one was
ready for the march against the Indians--the commission which Sir
William Berkeley had publicly promised Bacon, and for which alone Bacon
and his army tarried at Jamestown, was not yet forthcoming. The
perfidious old man, crazed with jealousy of his prosperous young rival
in the affections of the people, postponed granting it from day to day,
while he secretly plotted Bacon's ruin. His plots were discovered,
however, by some of the friends of Bacon, who was "whispered to," not a
moment too soon, and informed that the Governor had given orders for him
to be arrested again, and that road and river were beset with men lying
in wait to assassinate him if he attempted to leave Jamestown. Thus
warned, he took horse and made his escape through the dark streets and
past the scattered homes of the sleeping town before the sun was up to
show which course he had taken. In the morning the party sent out to
capture him made a diligent search throughout the town, actually
thrusting their swords through the beds in the house of his "thoughtful"
friend, Mr. Lawrence, to make sure that he was not hidden in them.

No sooner had the fugitive Bacon reached the "up country" than the
inhabitants crowded around him, clamoring for news of the Assembly and
eager to know the fate of his request for a commission to fight the
Indians. When they learned the truth they "began to set up their throats
in one common cry of oaths and curses." Toward evening of the same day a
rumor reached Jamestown that Bacon was coming back at the head of a
"raging tumult," who threatened to pull down the town if the Governor's
promises to their leader were not kept. Governor Berkeley immediately
ordered four "great guns" to be set up at Sandy Beach--the only
approach, by land, to Jamestown--to welcome the invaders, and all the
men who could be mustered--only thirty in all--were called out and other
preparations made to defend the town.

Next morning the little capital rang with the call to arms, but the
despised Governor, finding it impossible to get together enough soldiers
to resist the people's favorite, resorted to the stratagem of seeking to
disarm the foe by the appearance of peace. The unfriendly cannon were
taken from their carriages, the small arms put out of sight, and the
whole town was made to present a picture of harmlessness and serenity.

The Assembly was calmly sitting on that June day when, without meeting
with the slightest attempt at resistance, Nathaniel Bacon marched into
Jamestown at the head of four hundred foot soldiers and a hundred and
twenty horse. He at once stationed guards at all the "principal places
and avenues," so that "no place could be more securely guarded," and
then drew his men up in front of the State House where the Councillors
and Burgesses were in session, and defiantly demanded the promised
commission. Some parleying through a committee sent out by the Council
followed, but nothing was effected. Throughout the town panic reigned.
The white head of the aged and almost friendless Governor alone kept
cool. At length, his Cavalier blood at boiling point, he arose from the
executive chair, and stalking out to where Bacon stood, while the
gentlemen of the Council followed in a body, denounced him to his face
as a "rebel" and a "traitor." Then, baring his bosom, he shouted, "Here!
Shoot me! 'Fore God, a fair mark, shoot!" repeating the words several
times. Drawing his sword, he next proposed to settle the matter with
Bacon, then and there, in single combat.

"Sir," said Bacon, "I came not, nor intend, to hurt a hair of your
Honor's head, and as for your sword, your Honor may please to put it up;
it shall rust in the scabbard before ever I shall desire you to draw it.
I come for a commission against the heathen who daily inhumanly murder
us and spill our brethren's blood, and no care is taken to prevent it,"
adding, "God damn my blood, I came for a commission, and a commission I
will have before I go!"

During this dramatic interview, Bacon, his dark eyes burning, his black
locks tossing, strode back and forth betwixt his two lines of
men-at-arms, resting his left hand upon his hip, and flinging his right
from his hat to his sword-hilt, and back again, while the Burgesses
looked on breathless from the second-story windows of the State House.

At length the baffled Governor wheeled about and, with haughty mien,
walked toward his private apartment at the other end of the State House,
the gentlemen of the Council still close following him, while Bacon, in
turn, surrounded by his body-guard, followed them, continuing to
gesticulate in the wild fashion that has been described.

Finding Sir William deaf to every appeal, the determined young leader
swore another great oath, and exclaiming, "I'll kill Governor, Council,
Assembly and all, and then I'll sheathe my sword in my own heart's
blood!" he turned to his guard and ordered them to "Make ready, and
present!"

In a flash the loaded muskets of the "fusileers" pointed with steady aim
and true toward the white faces in the State House windows, while from
the throats of the little army below arose a chorus of "We _will_ have
it! We _will_ have it!" meaning the promised commission.

A quick-witted Burgess waved his handkerchief from the window, shouting,
as he did so, "You _shall_ have it! You _shall_ have it!" and the day
was saved. The tiny flag of truce worked a magic spell. The soldiers
withdrew their guns, uncocked the matchlocks, and quietly followed Bacon
back to the main body of his men. One witness says that Bacon's men also
shouted a chorus of, "No levies! No levies!"

After a long and heated argument with Council and Burgesses (though not
until the next day) Governor Berkeley grudgingly drew up a commission
and sent it out. Bacon, who was bent upon making the most of his
hard-won position, was not content with it, however, and scorning to
accept it, dictated one to his own mind and required the Governor to
sign it, as well as thirty blank ones for officers to serve under him,
to be filled with such names as he himself should see fit. Afterward,
finding need of still more officers, he sent to Berkeley for another
supply of blank commissions, but the beaten old man, deserted, for the
time, by his resources and his nerve, sent back the answer that he had
signed enough already, and bade General Bacon sign the rest for himself.

One more paper, however, the old man was made to sign--a letter to King
Charles explaining and excusing Bacon's course, and an act of indemnity
for Bacon and his followers.

Most of the commissions Bacon filled with the regular officers of the
militia, as the "most fit to bear commands," and likely to be the "most
satisfactory to both Governor and people."

The young General sat up all night long making his appointments and
preparing the commissions, keeping the Burgess from Stafford County,
Mr. Mathew, whom he had pressed into service as secretary, up with him.
This gentleman made bold to express the fear that as the people he
represented dwelt upon the most northern frontier of the colony, their
interests might not be so much regarded as those in General Bacon's own
neighborhood, on the far southern frontier; but his fears were set to
rest by Bacon's assurance that "the like care should be taken of the
remotest corners in the land as in his own dwelling house."

In the very midst of Nathaniel Bacon's little reign at Jamestown came
the news that the Indians, with a boldness exceeding any they had
hitherto shown, had swooped down upon two settlements on York River,
only twenty-three miles distant from the little capital, and more than
forty miles within the bounds of the frontier plantations, and had
massacred eight persons. This was upon the morning of the twenty-fifth
of June--a Sunday--when the pious Virginians were doubtless rejoicing in
a welcome rest from law-making, and, resplendent in apparel fashioned
after the latest mode in England at the time when the ships that
brought it over sailed thence, were offering thanks in the church for
the promise of brighter days which filled their hearts with good hope.

The town was again thrown into an uproar. Bacon ordered supplies to be
taken to the Falls of James River, and upon Monday morning, bright and
early, flags were unfurled, drums and trumpets sounded, and with the
authority of the cherished commission as "General of all the forces in
Virginia against the Indians," and the God-speed of men, women and
children, he marched away at the head of his thousand troops.

From the chorus of cheers and prayers for his safety and success that
followed him, however, one voice was missing. There was among those that
witnessed the departure one who was silver-haired and full of years, but
who had grown old ungracefully, for his brilliant and picturesque prime
had been eclipsed by a narrow and crabbed old age. While every heart but
his was stirred to its depths, every eye but his dimmed by the gentle
moisture of emotion, every tongue but his attuned to blessings, Sir
William Berkeley was possessed by wrathful silence, resolved to submit
as best he could to what he could not help, and to bide his time till
the aid from England, which he confidently expected, should arrive. He
was in the mean time upon the lookout for any straw that could be caught
at to stem the tide of his rival's popularity, and such a straw he soon
found.

The people of Gloucester County had been irritated by the rigorous
manner in which Bacon's officers impressed men and horses for the Indian
campaign. One account even states (most likely without truth) that Bacon
himself had been in Gloucester upon this business. Berkeley was informed
of the feeling in that county and told that the settlers there were
loyal to him and would support him against Bacon. The old man hastened
to Gloucester, where he was presented with a petition complaining
bitterly of the loss of men and horses impressed for the Indian war, and
especially of the rowdy methods of "one Matthew Gale, one of Mr.
Bacon's chief commanders," and begging for protection "against any more
of these outrages." Sir William answered that the petition would be
"most willingly granted," for that he "felt bound" to preserve his
Majesty's subjects from the "outrages and oppressions to which they have
lately too much submitted by the tyranny and usurpation of Nathaniel
Bacon, Jun., who never had any commission from me but what, with armed
men, he extracted from the Assembly, which in effect is no more than if
a thief should take my purse and make me own I gave it him freely, so
that in effect his commission, whatever it is, is void in law and
nature, and to be looked upon as no value."

Encouraged by the attitude of the people of Gloucester, Governor
Berkeley at once began raising troops, ostensibly to go himself to fight
the Indians, but really to attack Bacon.

In the mean time, Bacon, in blissful ignorance of the fresh trouble
brewing for him, was marching on toward the Falls. They were reached
ere long, and all was now ready for the plunge into the wilderness where
the red horror lurked. He gathered his men about him and made them a
speech. He assured them of his loyalty to England and that his only
design was to serve his King and his country. Lest any should question
the means by which he had gotten his commission, he reminded them of the
urgency of the time and the "cries of his brethren's blood that alarmed
and wakened him to his public revenge." When he had finished speaking he
took the oath of "allegiance and supremacy," in the presence of all his
soldiers, had them to take it, and then gave them an oath of fidelity to
himself. By this oath they bound themselves to make known to him any
plot against the persons of himself or any of his men, of which they
might happen to hear; also, to have no communication with the Indians,
to send no news out of camp, and to discover all councils, plots, and
conspiracies of the Indians against the army.




VIII.

CIVIL WAR.


The cheers of assent which answered the commander's words died upon the
air, and the order to march was about to be given, when a messenger
posted into camp with the news that Governor Berkeley was in Gloucester
County raising forces to surprise Bacon and take his commission from him
by force. The doughty young General, unfailing of resources, and nothing
daunted even by this "amusing" message, promptly decided what he should
do. In obedience to his command, trumpet and drum again called his men
together that he might inform them that ere they could further pursue
the chase after their "dearest foe" they must turn backward again once
more to meet the even greater horrors of civil warfare--how instead of
leading them as he had supposed, only against the hated redskins, he
must now command that the sword of friend should be turned against
friend, brother against brother.

"Gentlemen and Fellow Soldiers," he said, "the news just now brought me
may not a little startle you as well as myself. But seeing it is not
altogether unexpected, we may the better hear it and provide our
remedies. The Governor is now in Gloucester County endeavoring to raise
forces against us, having declared us rebels and traitors; if true,
crimes indeed too great for pardon. Our consciences herein are best
witnesses, and theirs so conscious as like cowards therefore they will
not have the courage to face us. It is revenge that hurries them on
without regard to the people's safety, and had rather we should be
murdered and our ghosts sent to our slaughtered countrymen by their
actings than we live to hinder them of their interest[87:A] with the
heathen, and preserve the remaining part of our fellow-subjects from
their cruelties. Now then, we must be forced to turn our swords to our
own defence, or expose ourselves to their mercies, or fortune of the
woods, whilst his Majesty's country lies here in blood and wasting (like
a candle) at both ends. How incapable we may be made (if we should
proceed) through sickness, want of provisions, slaughter, wounds, less
or more, none of us is void of the sense hereof.

"Therefore, while we are sound at heart, unwearied, and not receiving
damage by the fate of war, let us descend to know the reasons why such
proceedings are used against us. That those whom they have raised for
their defense, to preserve them against the fury of the heathen, they
should thus seek to destroy, and to betray our lives whom they raised to
preserve theirs. If ever such treachery was heard of, such wickedness
and inhumanity (and call all the ages to witness) and if any, that they
suffered it in like manner as we are like by the sword and ruins of war.

"But they are all damned cowards, and you shall see they will not dare
to meet us in the field to try the justness of our cause, and so we
will down to them."

As the ringing notes of their commander's voice died away, a great shout
arose from the soldiers. "Amen! Amen!" they cried. "We are all ready to
die in the field rather than be hanged like rogues, or perish in the
woods exposed to the favors of the merciless Indians!" And without more
ado, they wheeled about and marched, a thousand strong, to meet their
pursuers.

There was, however, to be no battle that day. It is true, as has been
shown, that the Governor had raised forces under the pretense of going
himself to aid in the Indian warfare, but really for the purpose of
pursuing and surprising Bacon and (in true Indian-gift fashion) taking
the commission away from him. But as soon as the Governor's army
discovered for what service they were called out they bluntly, and with
one accord, refused to obey marching orders, and setting up a cheer of
"Bacon, Bacon, Bacon!" walked off the field--still (it is written)
muttering in time to their step, "Bacon, Bacon, Bacon!"

The poor old Governor, finding himself thus abandoned, his friends so
few, his cause so weak, his authority despised and his will thwarted at
every turn, "for very grief and sadness of spirit," fainted away in his
saddle. Soon enough he heard that Bacon was on the march toward
Gloucester to meet him, and finding himself utterly unprepared for the
encounter, he fled, in desperation, to Accomac County, upon the Eastern
Shore of Virginia, which, cut off as it is by the broad waters of the
Chesapeake, had not suffered from the Indian horrors that had fallen
upon the rest of the colony, and had remained loyal to the government.
Here Sir William found a welcome shelter, though, even while giving him
the balm of a hospitable greeting and according him the honor they
conceived to be due him as the King's representative, the people of
Accomac did not forbear to complain to him of the public abuses from
which they had suffered in common with the folk across the Bay.

As unsuccessful as was Berkeley's attempt to muster an army to oppose
Bacon, its consequences were dire. The "Royal Commissioners" appointed
to investigate and report upon the merits of Bacon's Rebellion condemned
it, declaring that nothing could have called back Bacon, "then the hopes
of the people," from his march against the Indians, or "turned the sword
of a civil war into the heart and bowels of the country, but so
ill-timed a project as this proved."

"Now in vain," say the Commissioners, "the Governor attempts raising a
force against Bacon, and although the industry and endeavors he used was
great, yet at this juncture it was impossible, for Bacon at this time
was so much the hopes and darling of the people that the Governor's
interest proved but weak." And so he "was fain to fly" to Accomac.

When at length Bacon reached Gloucester he found "the Governor fled and
the field his own," so he marched boldly, and without resistance, to the
"Middle Plantation," the very "heart and center" of the colony, and soon
to be chosen as the site for its new capital--storied Williamsburg.
Here the young "rebel" found himself lord of all he surveyed--the
Governor gone, and all Virginia, save the two counties on the Eastern
Shore, in his power. After quartering his soldiers he issued a
proclamation inviting all the gentlemen of Virginia to meet him at the
"Middle Plantation," and "consult with him for the present settlement of
that, his Majesty's distressed Colony, to preserve its future peace, and
advance the effectual prosecution of the Indian war."

In response to the summons a great company of people gathered, on the
third day of August, at the house of Mr. Otho Thorpe. From this
convention the real Rebellion is dated. An oath was drawn up, by Bacon,
to be taken by the people of Virginia, "of what quality soever,
excepting servants." By it the people were bound to aid their General
with their lives and estates in the Indian war; to oppose and hinder the
Governor's designs, "if he had any," and to resist any forces that might
be sent over from England to suppress Bacon until time was allowed to
acquaint his Majesty with the "grievances" of the colony, and to
receive a reply.

The oath was put into due form and read to the convention by the clerk
of the Assembly. A stormy debate, which lasted from midday until
midnight, followed. Some feared the oath (especially the clause
regarding resistance of the King's soldiers) to be a dangerous one.
Bacon, supported by many others, protested its innocency.

"The tenor of the oath" was declared in the report of the "Royal
Commissioners" to be as follows:

"1. You are to oppose what forces shall be sent out of England by his
Majesty against me, till such time I have acquainted the King with the
state of this country, and have had an answer.

"2. You shall swear that what the Governor and Council have acted is
illegal and destructive to the country, and what I have done is
according to the laws of England.

"3. You shall swear from your hearts that my commission is legal and
lawfully obtained.

"4. You shall swear to divulge what you have heard at any time spoken
against me.

"5. You shall keep my secrets and not discover them to any person."

The men foremost in urging the oath were Colonel Swann, Colonel Beale,
Colonel Ballard, and Squire Bray, of the Council, and Colonel Jordan,
Colonel Smith, Colonel Scarsbrook, Colonel Milner, Mr. Lawrence, and Mr.
Drummond--all of them gentlemen of standing in the colony.

Bacon himself pleaded hotly for the oath, and at last vowed that unless
it were taken he would surrender up his commission to the Assembly, and
"let them find other servants to do the country's work."

This threat decided the question. The oath was agreed to and was
administered by the regular magistrates in almost all of the counties,
"none or very few" dodging it.

Bacon's position, already so secure, was now made all the stronger by
the arrival of the "gunner of York fort," breathless with the tidings
that this, the "most considerablest fortress in the country," was in
danger of being surprised and attacked by the Indians, and imploring
help to prevent it. The savages had made a bold raid into Gloucester,
massacring some of the settlers of the Carter's Creek neighborhood, and
a number of the terror-stricken county folk had fled to York for refuge.
The fort could offer them little protection, however, for Governor
Berkeley had robbed it of its arms and ammunition, which he had stowed
away in his own vessel and sailed away with them in his flight to the
Eastern Shore.


FOOTNOTES:

[87:A] The fur trade.




IX.

THE INDIAN WAR-PATH AGAIN.


Bacon at once began making ready to continue his oft-interrupted Indian
campaign, but first, to be sure of leaving the country safe from
Berkeley's ire,--for he feared lest "while he went abroad to destroy the
wolves, the foxes, in the mean time, should come and devour the
sheep,"--he seized Captain Larrimore's ship, then lying in the James,
and manned her with two hundred men and guns. This ship he sent under
command of Captain Carver, "a person acquainted with navigation," and
Squire Bland, "a gentleman of an active and stirring disposition, and no
great admirer of Sir William's goodness," to arrest Sir William Berkeley
for the purpose of sending him--as those of earlier times had sent
Governor Harvey--home to England, to stand trial for his "demerits
toward his Majesty's subjects of Virginia," and for the "likely loss of
that colony," for lack of defence against the "native savages."

Before leaving "Middle Plantation" the Rebel issued a summons, in the
name of the King, and signed by four members of his Majesty's Council,
for a meeting of the Grand Assembly, to be held upon September 4, to
manage the affairs of the colony in his absence.

Jamestown he left under the command of Colonel Hansford, whom he
commissioned to raise forces for the safety of the country, if any
should be needed. He then set out, with a mind at rest, upon his Indian
warfare. The few who had had the hardihood to openly oppose his plans he
left behind him safe within prison bars; others, who were at first
unfriendly to him, he had won over to his way of thinking by argument;
while any that he suspected might raise any party against him in his
absence, he took along with him.

For the third time, then, he marched to the "Falls of James River,"
where it is written that he "bestirred himself lustily," to speedily
make up for lost time in carrying on the war against the Ockinagees and
Susquehannocks; but seems to have been unsuccessful in his search for
these tribes, which had probably fled far into the depths of the
wilderness to escape Bacon's fury, for he soon abandoned the chase after
them and marched over to the "freshes of York," in pursuit of the
Pamunkeys, whose "propinquity and neighborhood to the English, and
courses among them" was said to "render the rebels suspicious of them,
as being acquainted and knowing both the manners, customs and nature of
our people, and the strength, situation and advantages of the country,
and so, capable of doing hurt and damage to the English."

The "Royal Commissioners" condemn the pursuit of the Pamunkeys, saying
that "it was well known that the Queen of Pamunkey and her people had
ne'er at any time betrayed or injured the English," and adding, "but
among the vulgar it matters not whether they be friends or foes, so
they be Indians."

It is indeed evident that the war with the Indians was intended to be a
war of extermination, for by such war only did the Virginians believe
they would ever secure safety for themselves, their homes, and their
families.

Governor Berkeley himself had no faith in the friendship of the Indians,
however. While Bacon was gone upon his expedition against the
Ockinagees, the Governor sent forces under Colonel Claiborne and others
to the headwaters of Pamunkey River. They found there the Pamunkey
Indians established in a fort in the Dragon Swamp--probably somewhere
between the present Essex and King and Queen Counties. The red men said
that they had fled to this stronghold for fear of Bacon, but their
explanation did not satisfy the Governor, who declared that as soon as
his difficulty with Bacon was settled he would advance upon the fort
himself. The Queen of Pamunkey herself was in the fort, and when
requested by Berkeley to return to her usual place of residence said
"she most willingly would return to be under the Governor's protection,
but that she did understand the Governor and those gentlemen could not
protect themselves from Mr. Bacon's violence."

At the "freshes of York" Bacon was met and joined by "all the northern
forces from Potomac, Rappahannock, and those parts," under the command
of Colonel Giles Brent, and the two armies marched together to the
plantations farthest up York River, where they were brought to an
enforced rest by rainy weather, which continued for several days. Even
this dismal interruption could not chill Bacon's ardor, but it filled
him with anxiety lest the delay should cause his provisions to run
short.

Calling his men together he told them frankly of his fears, and gave all
leave to return to their homes whose regard for food was stronger than
their courage and resolution to put down the savages, and revenge the
blood of their friends and neighbors shed by them. He bade them (if
there were any such) with all speed begone, for, said he, he knew he
would find them the "worst of cowards, serving for number and not for
service," starving his best men, who were willing to "bear the brunt of
it all," and disheartening others of "half mettle."

In response to this speech, only three of the soldiers withdrew, and
these were disarmed and sent home.

The sullen clouds at length lifted, and the army tramped joyfully
onward. Ere long they struck into an Indian trail, leading to a wider
one, and supposed from this that they must be near the main camp of some
tribe. Some scouts were sent out, but reported only a continuation of
the wide path through the woods. The army broke ranks and, to save time,
and make the rough march under the sultry August sun as little
uncomfortable as possible, followed the trail at random. They soon came
in sight of a settlement of the Pamunkey tribe, standing upon a point of
high land, surrounded upon three sides by a swamp.

Some ten Indian scouts who served Bacon's army were sent ahead to
reconnoiter. The Pamunkeys, seeing the scouts, suffered them to come
within range of their guns, and then opened fire upon them. The report
of the guns gave the alarm to Bacon and his troops, who were about half
a mile distant, and who marched in great haste and confusion to the
settlement. The Indians took refuge in the edge of the swamp, which was
so miry that their pursuers could not follow, and the only result of the
chase, to the Englishmen, was the not over-glorious feat of killing a
woman and capturing a child.

It so happened that the "good Queen of Pamunkey," as the "Royal
Commissioners" styled her, with some of her chiefs and friends, was in
the neighborhood of the settlement. Being warned that Bacon and his men
were coming, she took fright and fled, leaving behind her provisions and
Indian wares, as a peace offering, and charging her subjects that if
they saw any "pale faces" coming they must "neither fire a gun nor draw
an arrow upon them." The "pale faces," in their chase, overtook an aged
squaw who had been the "good queen's" nurse, and took her prisoner,
hoping to make her their guide to the hiding-places of the Indians. She
led them in quite the opposite way, through the rest of that day and the
greater part of the next, however, until, in a rage at finding
themselves fooled, they brutally knocked her upon the head and left her
dead in the wilderness. They soon afterward came upon another trail
which led to a large swamp, where several tribes of Indians were
encamped, and made an attack upon them, but with small fruits, as the
red men took to their heels, and most of them made good their escape.

Bacon now found himself at the head of an army wearied by the rough
march through swamp and forest, weak for want of food, and out of heart
at the contemplation of their thus far bootless errand.

Moreover, the time appointed for the meeting of the Assembly was drawing
nigh, and he knew that the people at home were looking anxiously for the
return of their champion, and expecting glorious tidings of his
campaign. In this strait he gave the troops commanded by Colonel Brent
provisions sufficient for two days, and sent them, with any others who
were pleased to accompany them, home ahead of him, to make report of the
expedition and to carry the news that he would follow soon.

With the four hundred of his own soldiers that were left the
indefatigable Bacon now continued to diligently hunt the swamps for the
savages, for he was determined not to show his face in Jamestown again
without a story to tell of battles won and foes put to confusion. At
length he struck a trail on hard ground, which he followed for a great
distance without finding the "Indian enemy." What he did find was that
his provisions were almost entirely spent, which melancholy discovery
forced him to reduce rations to "quarter allowances." His pluck did not
desert him, however. In the depths of the wilderness, miles away from
white man's habitation, hungry and worn, and with four hundred wearied
and half-starved men looking entirely to him, his fortitude was still
unbroken, his faith in his mission undimmed, his heart stout.

Finally, he saw that the only hope of escape from death by starvation
was to reduce his numbers by still another division of his army. Drawing
the forlorn little band up before him he made the dark forest ring with
the eloquence that had never failed to quicken the hearts of his
followers and which made them eager to endure hardship under his
leadership.

"Gentlemen," he said, "the indefatigable pains which hitherto we have
taken doth require abundantly better success than as yet we have met
with. But there is nothing so hard but by labor and industry it may be
overcome, which makes me not without hope of obtaining my desires
against the heathen, in meeting with them to quit scores for all their
barbarous cruelties done us.

"I had rather my carcass should lie rotting in the woods, and never see
Englishman's face in Virginia, than miss of doing that service the
country expects of me, and I vowed to perform against these heathen,
which should I not return successful in some manner to damnify and
affright them, we should have them as much animated as the English
discouraged, and my adversaries to insult and reflect on me, that my
defense of the country is but pretended and not real, and (as they
already say) I have other designs, and make this but my pretense and
cloak. But that all shall see how devoted I am to it, considering the
great charge the country is at in fitting me forth, and the hopes and
expectation they have in me, all you gentlemen that intend to abide with
me must resolve to undergo all the hardships this wild can afford,
dangers and successes, and if need be to eat chinquapins and horseflesh
before he returns. Which resolve I have taken, therefore desire none but
those which will so freely adventure; the other to return in, and for
the better knowledge of them, I will separate my camp some distance from
them bound home."

Next morning, as the sun arose above the tree-tops it looked down upon
the divided forces--one body moving with heavy step, but doubtless
lightened hearts, toward Jamestown, the other pressing deeper into the
wilds.

A few hours after the parting Bacon's remnant fell upon a party of the
Pamunkey tribe, whom they found encamped--after the wonted Indian
fashion--upon a piece of wooded land bounded by swamps. The savages made
little show of resistance, but fled, the English giving close chase.
Forty-five Indian captives were taken, besides three horse-loads of
plunder, consisting of mats, baskets, shell-money, furs, and pieces of
English linen and cloth.

A trumpet blast was the signal for the prisoners to be brought together
and delivered up to Bacon, by whom some of them were afterward sold for
slaves while the rest were disposed of by Sir William Berkeley, saving
five of them, whom Ingram, Bacon's successor, presented to the Queen of
Pamunkey.

As for the poor queen, the story goes that she fled during the skirmish
between Bacon's men and her subjects, and, with only a little Indian boy
to bear her company, was lost in the woods for fourteen days, during
which she was kept alive by gnawing upon the "leg of a terrapin," which
the little boy found for her when she was "ready to die for want of
food."




X.

GOVERNOR BERKELEY IN ACCOMAC.


While Bacon was scouring the wilderness in his pursuit of the Indians,
the colony, which he was pleased to think he had left safe from serious
harms, was in a state of wildest panic.

A plot had been formed by Governor Berkeley and Captain Larrimore to
recapture the ship which, it will be remembered, Bacon had sent to the
Eastern Shore after the Governor. When the ship cast anchor before
Accomac, Berkeley sent for her commander, Captain Carver, to come ashore
and hold a parley with him, promising him a safe return. Unfortunately
for himself, the Captain seems to have forgotten for the moment how
little Governor Berkeley's promises were worth. Leaving his ship in
charge of Bland, he went well armed, and accompanied by his most trusty
men, to obey the summons. While Sir William was closeted with Captain
Carver, trying to persuade him to desert the rebel party, Captain
Larrimore, who had a boat in readiness for the purpose, rowed a party of
men, under command of Colonel Philip Ludwell, of the Council, out to the
ship. The Baconians, supposing that the approaching boat came in peace,
were taken entirely by surprise, and all on board were made prisoners.
Soon afterward, Captain Carver, his conference with Sir William over,
set out for the ship, in blissful ignorance of what had happened in his
absence until he came within gun-shot, when he, too, fell an easy prey
into the trap, and soon found himself in irons with Bland and the
others.

A few days later Sir William Berkeley rewarded the unfortunate Captain
Carver for his thus thwarted designs against the liberty of his
Majesty's representative, with the ungracious "gift of the halter."

Governor Berkeley was now having his turn in sweeping things before him.
At the time of the seizure by Carver and Bland of Captain Larrimore's
ship, another ship, lying hard by, in the James, commanded by Captain
Christopher Evelyn, eluded the efforts of the Baconians to seize her
also, and some days later slipped away to England, carrying aboard her a
paper setting forth the Governor's own story of the doings of Nathaniel
Bacon, Jr., in Virginia.

It was upon the first day of August that the Baconians had seized
Captain Larrimore's ship and made her ready to go to Accomac after
Berkeley. Upon the seventh of September Berkeley set sail for Jamestown,
not as a prisoner, but with a fleet consisting of the recaptured ship
and some sixteen or seventeen sloops manned by six hundred sturdy
denizens of Accomac, whom he is said to have bribed to his service with
promises of plunder of all who had taken Bacon's oath,--"catch that
catch could,"--twenty-one years' exemption from all taxes except church
dues, and regular pay of twelvepence per day so long as they should
serve under his colors. He was, moreover, said to have offered like
benefits, and their freedom besides, to all servants of Bacon's
adherents who would take up arms against the Rebel.

The direful news of Sir William's approach, and of the strength with
which he came, "outstripping the canvas wings," reached Jamestown before
any signs of his fleet were spied from the landing. The handful of
Baconians who had been left on guard there to "see the King's peace kept
by resisting the King's vice-gerent," as their enemies sarcastically put
it, were filled with dismay, for they realized themselves to be "a
people utterly undone, being equally exposed to the Governor's
displeasure and the Indians' bloody cruelties."

To prove the too great truth of the report, the Governor's ships were
before long seen sailing up the river, and the Governor's messenger soon
afterward landed, bearing commands for the immediate surrender of the
town, with promise of pardon to all who would desert to the Governor's
cause, excepting only Bacon's two strongest friends, Mr. Drummond and
"thoughtful Mr. Lawrence."

The Baconians had caught too much of the spirit of their leader to
consider such terms as were offered them, and scornfully spurned them;
but seeing that it would be madness to attempt to hold the town against
such numbers, made their escape, leaving abundant reward in the way of
plunder for the Governor and his six hundred men of Accomac. Mr.
Lawrence, whose leave-taking was perhaps the more speedy by reason of
the compliment Sir William had paid him in making him one of the
honorable exceptions in his offer of mercy, left "all his wealth and a
fair cupboard of plate entire standing, which fell into the Governor's
hands the next morning."

About noonday, on September 8, the day following the evacuation, Sir
William entered the little capital. He immediately fortified it as
strongly as possible, and then once more proclaimed Nathaniel Bacon and
his followers rebels and traitors, threatening them with the utmost
extremity of the law.




XI.

BACON RETURNS TO JAMESTOWN.


Let us now return to the venturesome young man who was voluntarily
placing himself under this oft-repeated and portentous ban. We will find
him and his ragged and foot-sore remnant on their way back to Jamestown,
for after the successful meeting with the Pamunkeys he withdrew his
forces from the wilderness and turned his face homewards to gather
strength for the next march. He had already been met by the news of the
reception that awaited him at Jamestown from Sir William. His army
consisted now of only one hundred and thirty-six tired-out, soiled,
tattered and hungry men--not a very formidable array with which to
attack the fortified town, held by his wrathful enemy and the six
hundred fresh men-at-arms from Accomac. Pathetic a show as the little
band presented, however, the gallant young General called them about
him, and with the frankness with which he always opened the eyes of his
soldiers to every possible danger to which they might be exposed in his
service, laid before them Governor Berkeley's schemes for their undoing.
Verily must this impetuous youth have had magic in his tongue. Perhaps
it was because he was able to throw into his tones his passion for the
people's cause and earnest belief in the righteousness of the Rebellion,
that his voice had ever the effect of martial music upon the spirits of
his followers. Their hearts were never so faint but the sound of it
could make them stout, their bodies never so weary but they were ready
to greet a word from him with a hurrah.

Nothing daunted by the appalling news he told them, the brave men
shouted that they would stand by their General to the end. Deeply
touched by their faithfulness, Bacon was quick to express his
appreciation.

"Gentlemen and Fellow Soldiers," he cried: "How am I transported with
gladness to find you thus unanimous, bold and daring, brave and gallant.
You have the victory before you fight, the conquest before battle. I
know you can and dare fight, while they will lie in their place of
refuge and dare not so much as appear in the field before you. Your
hardiness shall invite all the country along, as we march, to come in
and second you.

"The Indians we bear along with us shall be as so many motives to cause
relief from every hand to be brought to you. The ignominy of their
actions cannot but so reflect upon their spirits as they will have no
courage left to fight you. I know you have the prayers and well wishes
of all the people of Virginia, while the others are loaded with their
curses."

As if "animated with new courage," the bit of an army marched onward
toward Jamestown, with speed "out-stripping the swift wings of fame,"
for love and faith lightened their steps. The only stop was in New Kent
County, where, halting long enough to gain some new troops, their
number was increased to three hundred. Weak and weary, ragged and soiled
as was the little army, the home-coming was a veritable triumphal
progress. The dwellers along the way came out of their houses praying
aloud for the happiness of the people's champion, and railing against
the Governor and his party. Seeing the Indian captives whom Bacon's men
led along, they shouted their thanks for his care and his pains for
their preservation, and brought forth fruits and bread for the
refreshment of himself and his soldiers. Women cried out that if need be
they would come and serve under him. His young wife proudly wrote a
friend in England: "You never knew any better beloved than he is. I do
verily believe that rather than he should come to any hurt by the
Governor or anybody else, they would most of them lose their lives."

Rumors of the Governor's warlike preparations for his coming were
received by Bacon with a coolness bound to inspire those under him with
confidence in his and their own strength. Hearing that Sir William had
with him in Jamestown a thousand men, "well armed and resolute," he
nonchalantly made answer that he would soon see how resolute they were,
for he was going to try them. When told that the Governor had sent out a
party of sixty mounted scouts to watch his movements, he said, with a
smile, that they were welcome to come near enough to say "How d'ye," for
he feared them not.

Toward evening upon September 13, after a march of between thirty and
forty miles since daybreak, the army reached "Green Spring," Sir William
Berkeley's own fair estate near Jamestown--the home which had been the
centre of so much that was distinguished and charming in the social life
of the colony during the Cavalier days. In a green field here Bacon
again gathered his men around him for a final word to them before
marching upon the capital. In a ringing appeal he told them that if they
would ever fight they would do so now, against all the odds that
confronted them--the enemy having every advantage of position, places of
retreat, and men fresh and unwearied, while they were "so few, weak,
and tired."

"But I speak not this to discourage you," he added, "but to acquaint you
with what advantages they will neglect and lose." He assured them that
their enemies had not the courage to maintain the charges so boldly made
that they were rebels and traitors.

"Come on, my hearts of gold!" he cried. "He that dies in the field, lies
in the bed of honor!"

With these words the Rebel once more moved onward, and drew up his
"small tired body of men" in an old Indian field just outside of
Jamestown. He promptly announced his presence there in the dramatic and
picturesque fashion that belonged to the time. Riding forward upon the
"Sandy Beach"--a narrow neck of land which then connected the town with
the mainland, but has since been washed away, making Jamestown an
island--he commanded a trumpet-blast to be sounded, and fired off his
carbine. From out the stillness of the night the salute was heard, and
immediately, and with all due ceremony, answered by a trumpeter within
the town. These martial greetings exchanged, Bacon dismounted from his
horse, surveyed the situation and ordered an earthwork to be cast up
across the neck of land, thus cutting off all communication between the
capital and the rest of the colony except by water. Two axes and two
spades were all the tools at the Rebel's command, but all night long his
faithful men worked like beavers beneath the bright September moon.
Trees came crashing down, bushes were cut and earth heaped up, and
before daybreak the fortification was complete and the besiegers were
ready for battle.

When Sir William Berkeley looked abroad next morning and found the
gateway between town and country so hostilely barred he did not suffer
his complacency to forsake him for a moment, for he at once resolved to
try his old trick, in which he had perfect confidence, of seeking to
disarm the enemy by an affectation of friendship. He could not believe
that Bacon would have the hardihood to open war with such a pitiful
force against his Majesty's representative, and pretending to desire a
reconciliation with the Rebel on account of his service against the
Indians, he ordered his men not to make attack.




XII.

JAMESTOWN BESIEGED AND BURNED.


But Sir William Berkeley had played his favorite trick at least twice
too often. Moreover, he little knew of what stern stuff Bacon and his
handful of ragamuffins were made, though they were far too well
acquainted with the silver-haired old Cavalier's ways and wiles to pin
any faith to the fair words that could so glibly slip off of his tongue
and out of his memory.

Early that morning the beginning of the siege was formally announced by
six of Bacon's soldiers, who ran up to the palisades of the town fort,
"fired briskly upon the guard," and retreated safely within their own
earthwork. The fight now began in earnest. Upon a signal from within the
town the Governor's fleet in the river shot off their "great guns,"
while at the same time the guard in the palisades let fly their small
shot. Though thus assailed from two sides at once, the rebels lying
under their earthwork were entirely protected from both, and safe in
their little fortress, returned the fire as fast as it was given. Even
under fire, Bacon, the resourceful, strengthened and enlarged his fort
by having a party of his soldiers to bind fagots into bundles, which
they held before themselves for protection while they made them fast
along the top and at the ends of the earthwork.

A sentinel from the top of a chimney upon Colonel Moryson's plantation,
hard by Jamestown, watched Berkeley's maneuvers all day, and constantly
reported to Bacon how the men in town "posted and reposted, drew on and
off, what number they were and how they moved."

For three days the cross-firing continued, during which the besiegers
were so well shielded that they do not seem to have lost a single man.

Upon the third day the Governor decided to make a sally upon the rebels.
It is written that when he gave the order for the attack some of his
officers made such "crabbed faces" that the "gunner of York Fort," who,
it seems, was humorously inclined, offered too buy a colonel's or a
captain's commission for whomsoever would have one for "a chunk of a
pipe."

It is also written that the Governor's Accomac soldiers "went out with
heavy hearts, but returned with light heels," for the Baconians received
them so warmly that they retired in great disorder, throwing down their
arms and leaving them and their drum on the field behind them, with the
dead bodies of two of their comrades, which the rebels took into their
trenches and buried with their arms.

This taste of success made the besiegers so bold and daring that Bacon
could hardly keep them from attempting to storm and capture Jamestown
forthwith; but he warned them against being over rash, saying that he
expected to take the town without loss of a man, in due season, and that
one of their lives was worth more to him than the whole world.

Upon the day after the sally some of Bacon's Indian captives were
exhibited on top of the earthworks, and this primitive bit of bravado
served as an object-lesson to quicken the enthusiasm of the neighborhood
folk, who were coming over to the Rebel in great numbers.

News was brought that "great multitudes" were also declaring for the
popular cause in Nansemond and Isle of Wight Counties, "as also all the
south side of the river."

Bacon sent a letter from camp to two of his sea-faring friends, Captain
William Cookson and Captain Edward Skewon, describing the progress of
the siege and urging them to protect the "Upper parts of the country"
against pirates, and to bid his friends in those parts "be courageous,
for that all the country is bravely resolute."

In the midst of the siege Bacon resorted to one measure which for pure
originality has not been surpassed in the history of military tactics,
and which, though up to the present writing no other general
sufficiently picturesque in his methods to imitate it has arisen, has
furnished much "copy" for writers of historical romances.

The Rebel had the good fortune to capture two pieces of artillery, but a
dilemma arose as to how he should mount them without endangering the
lives of some of his men. His ingenious brain was quick to solve the
riddle. Dispatching some of his officers to the plantations near
Jamestown, he had them to bring into his camp Madam Bacon (the wife of
his cousin Nathaniel Bacon, Sr., President of the Council), Madam Bray,
Madam Page, Madam Ballard, and other ladies of the households of members
of his Majesty's Council who had remained loyal to the Governor. He then
sent one of these fair ones, under escort, into Jamestown, to let her
husband and the husbands of her companions know with what delicate and
precious material their audacious foe was strengthening his fort, and to
give them fair warning not to shoot. The remaining ladies (alas for the
age of chivalry!) he stationed in front of his breastworks and kept them
there until the captured "great guns" had been duly mounted; after
which he sent them all safely home.

Most truly was it said that Bacon "knit more knots by his own head in
one day than all the hands in town were able to untie in a whole week!"

So effectual a fortification did the glimmer of a few fluttering white
aprons upon his breastworks prove to be, that, as though confronted by a
line of warriors from Ghostland, the Governor's soldiers stood aghast,
and powerless to level a gun, while to add still further to their
discomfiture they had to bear with what grace they could command having
their ladies dubbed the "guardian angels" of the rebel camp.

The cannon mounted under such gentle protection were never given a
chance to prove their service.

Jamestown stood upon low ground, full of marshes and swamps. The
climate, at all times malarious and unhealthy, was at this season made
more so than usual by the hot September suns. There were no fresh water
springs, and the water from the wells was brackish and unwholesome,
making the place especially "improper for the commencement of a siege."
While the Governor had the advantage of numbers, and his men were fresh
and unwearied, Bacon had the greater advantage of motive. Sir William
Berkeley's soldiers were bent upon plunder, and when they found that the
Rebel's determined "hearts of gold" meant to keep them blocked up in
such comfortless quarters, and that the prospects were that there was
nothing to be gained in Sir William's service, they began to fall away
from him in such numbers that, upon the day after the placing of Bacon's
great guns, the old man found that there was nothing left for him but a
second flight. That night he, with the gentlemen who remained true to
him--about twenty in all--stole out of their stronghold in great
secrecy, and taking to the ships, "fell silently down the river." The
fleet came to anchor a few miles away, perhaps that those on board might
reoccupy the town again as soon as the siege should be raised, perhaps
that they might, in turn, block up the rebels in it if they should
quarter there.

Bacon found a way to thwart either design.

The first rays of morning light brought knowledge to the rebels that the
Governor had fled, and that they were free to take possession of the
deserted capital. That night, as Berkeley and his friends rocked on the
river below, doubtless straining eyes and ears toward Jamestown, and
eagerly awaiting news of Bacon's doings there, the sickening sight of
jets of flame leaping skyward through the darkness told them in signals
all too plain that the hospitable little city would shelter them
nevermore.

Filled with horror, they weighed anchor and sailed with as great speed
as the winds would vouchsafe to bear them out of James River and across
the Chesapeake's broad waters, where Governor Berkeley found, for a
second time, a haven of refuge upon the shores of Accomac County.

This great city of Jamestown, which though insignificant in number of
inhabitants and in the area it covered, was a truly great city, for its
achievements had been great, was thus laid low at the very height of
its modest magnificence and power. Though but little more than a half
century old, it was already historic Jamestown, for with its foundations
had been laid, in the virgin soil of a new world, the foundations of the
Anglo-Saxon home, the Anglo-Saxon religion, and Anglo-Saxon law. This
town, so small in size, so great in import, could proudly boast of a
brick church, "faire and large," twelve new brick houses and half a
dozen frame ones, with brick chimneys. There was also a brick state
house the foundations of which have lately been discovered.

The inhabitants are facetiously described by a writer of the time as for
the most part "getting their livings by keeping ordinaries at
_extra_-ordinary rates."

"Thoughtful Mr. Lawrence"--devoted Mr. Lawrence (whose silver plate the
Governor had not forgotten to carry off with him, for all his
leave-taking was so abrupt)--and Mr. Drummond heroically began the work
of ruin by setting the torch to their own substantial dwellings. The
soldiers were quick to follow this example, and soon all that remained
of Jamestown was a memory, a heap of ashes, and a smoke-stained church
tower, which still reaches heavenward and tells the wayfarer how the
most enduring pile the builders of that first little capital of Virginia
had heaped up was a Christian temple.

Mr. Drummond (to his honor be it said) rushed into the burning State
House and rescued the official records of the colony.

In a letter written the following February Sir William Berkeley said
that Bacon entered Jamestown and "burned five houses of mine and twenty
of other gentlemen's, and a very commodious church. They say he set to
with his own sacrilegious hand."




XIII.

"THE PROSPEROUS REBEL."


The firebrand's uncanny work complete, Bacon marched his men back to
"Green Spring" and quartered them there. That commodious plantation,
noted among other things for its variety of fruits and its delightful
spring water, must have been a welcome change from the trenches before
Jamestown, haunted by malaria and mosquitoes.

Comfortably established in Sir William Berkeley's own house, the Rebel's
next step was to draw up an oath of fidelity to the people's cause,
denouncing Sir William as a traitor and an enemy to the public good, and
again binding his followers to resist any forces that might be sent from
England until such time as his Majesty should "fully understand the
miserable case of the country, and the justice of our proceedings," and
if they should find themselves no longer strong enough to defend their
"lives and liberties," to quit the colony rather than submit to "any
such miserable a slavery" as they had been undergoing.

Though the "prosperous rebel," as the Royal Commissioners call Bacon,
had now everything his own way, his hour of triumph was marked by
dignity and moderation. Even those who opposed him bore witness that he
"was not bloodily inclined in the whole progress of this rebellion." He
had only one man--a deserter--executed, and even in that case he
declared that he would spare the victim if any single one of his
soldiers would speak a word to save him. The Royal Commissioners, who
had made a careful study of Bacon's character, expressed the belief that
he at last had the poor fellow's life taken, not from cruelty, but as a
wholesome object-lesson for his army.

He suggested an exchange of prisoners of war to Berkeley--offering the
Reverend John Clough (minister at Jamestown), Captain Thomas Hawkins,
and Major John West, in return for Captain Carver (of whose execution,
it seems, he had not heard), Bland, and Farloe. Governor Berkeley
scorned to consider the proposition, and instead of releasing the
gentlemen asked for, afterward sent the remaining two after the luckless
Captain Carver, although Bacon spared the lives of all those he had
offered in exchange, and though Mr. Bland's friends in England had
procured the King's pardon for him, which he pleaded at his trial was
even then in the Governor's pocket.

Though Bacon himself was never accused of putting any one to death in
cold blood, or of plundering any house, he found that the people began
to complain bitterly of the depredations, rudeness, and disorder of his
men. He therefore set a strict discipline over his army and became more
moderate than ever himself.

After a few days' rest at "Green Spring" the Rebel marched on to
Tindall's Point, Gloucester County, where he made the home of Colonel
Augustine Warner, Speaker of the House of Burgesses, his headquarters.
From there he sent out a notice to all the people of the county to meet
him at the court-house for the purpose of taking his oath.

His plans were now suddenly interrupted by a report from Rappahannock
County that Colonel Brent, who, it seems, had gone over to the
Governor's side, was advancing upon him at the head of eleven hundred
militia. No sooner had he heard this news than he ordered the drums to
beat up his soldiers, under their colors, and told them of the strength
of the approaching army, and of Brent's "resolution" to fight him, and
"demanded theirs."

With their wonted heartiness, his men made answer in "shouts and
acclamations, while the drums thunder a march to meet the promised
conflict."

Thus encouraged, Bacon set out without delay to give the enemy even an
earlier chance to unload his guns than he had bargained for. He had been
on the march for several days when, instead of meeting a hostile army,
he was greeted with the cheerful tidings that Brent's followers, who
were described as "men, not soldiers," had left their commander to
"shift for himself." They had heard how the Rebel had beat the Governor
out of town, and lest he should "beat them out of their lives," some of
them determined to keep a safe distance from him, while most of them
unblushingly deserted to him, deeming it the part of wisdom "with the
Persians, to go and worship the rising sun."

Bacon now hastened back to Gloucester Court House to meet the county
folk there, in accordance with his appointment. The cautious denizens of
Gloucester, reckoning that in such uncertain times there might be danger
in declaring too warmly for either the one side or the other, petitioned
through Councillor Cole, who acted as spokesman, that they might be
excused from taking the oath of fidelity, and "indulged in the benefit
of neutrality." Lukewarmness in his service was a thing wholly new to
Bacon, and utterly contemptible in his eyes. He haughtily refused to
grant so unworthy a request, telling those who made it that they put
him in mind of the worst of sinners, who desired to be saved with the
righteous, "yet would do nothing whereby they might obtain their
salvation."

He was about to leave the place in disgust when one of the neutrals
stopped him and told him that he had only spoken "to the horse"--meaning
the troopers--and had said nothing to the "foot."

Bacon cuttingly made answer that he had "spoken to the men, and not to
the horse, having left that service for him to do, because one beast
would best understand the meaning of another."

Mr. Wading, a parson, not only refused to take the oath himself, but
tried to persuade others against it, whereupon Bacon had him arrested,
telling him that "it was his place to preach in the church--not in the
camp," and that in the one place he might say what he pleased, in the
other only what Bacon pleased, "unless he could fight better than he
could preach."

It was clearly the clause regarding resistance of the English forces
that made the people suspicious and afraid of the oath. John Goode, a
Virginia planter, and a near neighbor of Bacon's, had been one of the
first among the volunteers to enlist under him, but afterward went over
to Governor Berkeley. He wrote the Governor a letter reporting a
conversation between himself and Bacon which he said they had had upon
the second of September. This must have been during Bacon's last Indian
march, and about ten days before the siege of Jamestown.

According to Goode, Bacon had spoken to him of a rumor that the King had
sent two thousand "red-coats" to put down the insurgents, saying that if
it were true he believed that the Virginians could beat them--having the
advantages of knowing the country, understanding how to make ambuscades,
etc., and being accustomed to the climate--which last would doubtless
play havoc in the King's army.

Goode writes that he discouraged resistance of the "red-coats," and
charged Bacon with designing a total overthrow of the Mother Country's
government in Virginia--to which Bacon coolly made answer, "Have not
many princes lost their dominions in like manner?" and frankly expressed
the opinion that not only Virginia, but Maryland and Carolina would cast
off his Majesty's yoke as soon as they should become strong enough.

The writer adds that Bacon furthermore suggested that if the people
could not obtain redress for their grievances from the Crown, and have
the privilege of electing their own governors, they might "retire to
Roanoke," and that he then "fell into a discourse of seating a
plantation in a great island in the river as a fit place to retire to
for a refuge."

Goode describes his horror at such a daring suggestion, and says he
assured Bacon that he would get no aid from him in carrying it out, and
that the Rebel replied that he was glad to know his mind, but charged
that "this dread of putting his hand to the promoting" of such a design
was prompted by cowardice, and that Goode's attitude would seem to hint
that a gentleman engaged as he (Bacon) was, must either "fly or hang
for it."

The writer says that he suggested to the Rebel that "a seasonable
submission to authority and acknowledgment of errors past" would be the
wisest course for one in his ticklish position, and, after giving this
prudent advice, Mr. Goode, fearing that alliance with Bacon was growing
to be a risky business, asked leave to go home for a few days, which was
granted, and he never saw the Rebel again--for which, he piously adds,
he was very thankful.

Gloucester folk, who evidently did not realize as fully as Mr. Goode
that discretion is the better part of valor, finally came to terms, and
took the dangerous oath. Six hundred men are said to have subscribed to
it in one place, besides others in other parts of the county.

Bacon next turned his attention to making plans for the regulation of
affairs in the colony. One of his schemes was to visit all "the northern
parts of Virginia," and inquire personally into their needs, so as to
meet them as seemed most fit. He appointed a committee to look after
the south side of James River, and inquire into the plundering reported
to have been done there by his army; another committee was to be always
with the army, with authority to restrain rudeness, disorder, and
depredations, while still another was to have the management of the
Indian war.




XIV.

DEATH OF BACON AND END OF THE REBELLION.


Full many "knots" the busy brain of Bacon was "knitting" indeed, among
them a design to go over to the Eastern Shore, where Sir William
Berkeley was still in retreat, and return the "kind-hearted visit" which
Sir William and his Accomac eight hundred had made Hansford and the
other Baconians at Jamestown, during his absence, and that the
Accomackians might be ready to give him a warm reception, he had his
coming heralded with meet ceremony.

The "prosperous Rebel" was never to see the fulfilment of his hopes and
purposes, however. The week of exposure to the damps and vapors of the
Jamestown swamps, during the siege, added to the physical and mental
strain he had been under since the beginning of the Rebellion, had done
its deadly work. The dauntless and brilliant young General met an
unexpected and, for the first time during his career, an unprepared-for
enemy in the deadly fever, against which he had no weapon of defense.

It is written that he was "besieged by sickness" at the house of Mr.
Pate, in Gloucester. He made the brave struggle that was to be expected
from one of his fibre, but at length, upon the first day of October, he
who had seemed invincible to human foes "surrendered up that fort he was
no longer able to keep into the hands of that grim and all-conquering
captain, Death."

He died much dissatisfied in mind at leaving his work unfinished, and
"inquiring ever and anon after the arrival of the frigates and forces
from England."

Sir William Berkeley, writing of his enemy's illness and death in a tone
of great satisfaction, says that Bacon swore his "usual oath"--"God damn
my blood!"--at least "a thousand times a day," and that "God so
infected his blood" that it bred vermin in "an incredible number," to
which "God added" his sickness. Sir William adds that "an honest
minister"--evidently one of the Governor's own adherents--wrote an
epitaph upon Bacon declaring that he was "sorry" at his "heart" that
vermin and disease "should act the hangman's part."

Was this "honest minister" the Reverend Mr. Wading--the same whom Bacon
had arrested and debarred from "preaching in camp"? Perhaps, but the
deponent saith not.

Those who had loved the Rebel in life were faithful to him in death, and
tenderly laid his body away beyond the reach of the insults of his
enemies. So closely guarded was the secret of the place and manner of
his burial that it is unto this day a mystery; but tradition has it that
stones were placed in his coffin and he was put to bed beneath the deep
waters of the majestic York River, whose waves chant him a perpetual
"_requiescat in pace_."

A feeble attempt was made by Bacon's followers, under Ingram as
commander-in-chief, to carry on the rebellion, but in their leader the
people of Virginia had not only lost their "hope and darling" but the
organizer, the inspiration of their party. Their "arms, though ne'er so
strong," wanted the "aid of his commanding tongue." Without Bacon the
movement was as a ship without captain, pilot, or even guiding star. As
soon as the news of his death was carried across the Chesapeake, to
Berkeley, the Governor sent a party of men, under command of Maj. Robert
Beverley, in a sloop over to York to reconnoiter. These "snapped up,"
young Colonel Hansford and about twenty soldiers who kept guard under
his command at Colonel Reade's house, and sailed away with them to
Accomac. Upon his arrival there Hansford was accorded the unenviable
"honor to be the first Virginian that ever was hanged" (which probably
means the first Englishman born in Virginia), while the soldiers under
him were cast into prison. The young officer met his death, heroically,
asking of men no other favor than that he might be "shot, like a
soldier, and not hanged, like a dog" (which was heartlessly denied him),
and praying Heaven to forgive his sins.

With his last breath Colonel Hansford protested that he "died a loyal
subject and a lover of his country, and that he had never taken up arms
but for the destruction of the Indians, who had murdered so many
Christians."

Major Cheesman and Captain Wilford, who was the son of a knight, and was
but "a little man, yet had a great heart, and was known to be no
coward," were taken by the same party that captured Hansford, and
Wilford was hanged, while Cheesman only escaped a like fate by dying in
prison, of hard usage.

When Major Cheesman was brought into the Governor's presence and asked
why he had taken up arms with Bacon, his devoted and heroic wife stepped
forward and declared that she had persuaded him to do so, and upon her
knees pleaded that she might be executed in his stead.

Berkeley answered her with insult, and ordered that her husband be taken
to prison.

Encouraged by Major Beverley's "nimble and timely service" in ridding
him of so many Baconians, Berkeley, with an armed force, took ship and
sailed in person to York River. A party of his soldiers under one
Farrill, and accompanied by Colonel Nathaniel Bacon, President of the
Council, and Colonel Ludwell, who went along to see the thing well done,
made an unsuccessful attack upon a garrison of Baconians under Major
Whaly, at President Bacon's own house. During the fray Farrill was
killed and some of his men were taken prisoners.

Another party of the Governor's troops which, under command of Maj.
Lawrence Smith, had taken possession of Mr. Pate's house, where the
Rebel died, was besieged by the Baconians, under Ingram. Although Major
Smith was said to have been "a gentleman that in his time had hewed out
many a knotty piece of work," and so the better knew how to handle such
rugged fellows as the Baconians were famed to be, "he only saved
himself by leaving his men in the lurch."

The whole party tamely surrendered to Ingram, who dismissed them all to
their homes, unharmed.

In spite of these little victories, however, the Rebellion was doomed.
Only a few days after his raid upon Pate's house, Ingram decided to give
up the struggle, and made terms with Captain Grantham, of Governor
Berkeley's following.

The Governor's own home, "Green Spring," which Bacon had left in charge
of about a hundred men and boys, under command of Captain Drew, now
stood ready to throw open its doors once more to its master.

It was said that the "main service that was done for the reducing the
rebels to their obedience, was done by the seamen and commanders of
ships then riding in the rivers." In the lower part of Surry County,
upon the banks of James River, stands an ancient brick mansion, still
known as "Bacon's Castle," which tradition says was fortified by the
Rebel. This relic of the famous rebellion is mentioned in the records
as "Allen's Brick House," where Bacon had a guard under Major Rookins.
The place was captured by a force from the Governor's ship _Young
Prince_, Robert Morris, commander. Major Rookins, being "taken in open
rebellion," was one of those afterward sentenced to death by court
martial, at "Green Spring," but was so happy as to die in prison and
thus, like Major Cheesman, cheat the gallows.

Drummond and Lawrence alone remained inflexible, in command of a brick
house in New Kent County, on the opposite side of the river from where
Grantham and the Governor's forces were quartered. Seeing that they
could not long hold out against such odds, but determined not to
surrender to Berkeley, or to become his prisoners, they at length fled
from their stronghold.

Poor Mr. Drummond was overtaken by some of the Governor's soldiers in
Chickahominy Swamp, half starved. He had been from the very beginning
one of the staunchest adherents of Bacon and the people's party. A
friend had advised him to be cautious in his opposition to the
Governor, but the only answer he deigned to make was, "I am in over
shoes, I will be in over boots."

And he was as good as his word. When he was brought under arrest, before
Berkeley, Sir William greeted him with a low bow, saying, in mock
hospitality:

"Mr. Drummond, you are very welcome. I am more glad to see you than any
man in Virginia. Mr. Drummond, you shall be hanged in half an hour."

The sturdy Scotchman replied, with perfect equanimity, and like show of
courtesy:

"What your Honor pleases."

Sir William, too, was for once as good as his word, and the sentence was
executed without delay.

Governor Berkeley was evidently bent upon enjoying whatever satisfaction
was to be found in the humiliation and death of his enemies. Those who
shared Mr. Drummond's fate numbered no less than twenty, among them
Bacon's friend and neighbor, Captain James Crews.

The end of "thoughtful Mr. Lawrence" is not known. When last seen he, in
company with four other Baconians, mounted and armed, was making good
his escape through a snow ankle deep. They were supposed to have cast
themselves into some river rather than die by Sir William Berkeley's
rope.

Mr. Lawrence was thought by many to have been the chief instigator of
the Rebellion, and it was rumored that it was he that laid the stones in
Bacon's coffin.

By the middle of January of the new year the whole colony had been
reduced to submission, and upon January 22 Governor Berkeley went home
to "Green Spring," and issued a summons for an Assembly to meet at his
own house--for since the destruction of Jamestown the colony was without
a legislative hall.

Sir William sent a message to the Assembly directing that some mark of
distinction be set upon his loyal friends of Accomac, who had twice
given him shelter during the uprising. It fell to the lot of a Baconian,
Col. Augustine Warner, as Speaker of the House, to read the Governor's
message, but that fiery gentleman consoled himself by adding, upon his
own account, that he did not know what the "distinction" should be
unless to give them "earmarks or burnt marks"--which was the common
manner of branding criminals and hogs.

So many persons had been put to death by Governor Berkeley, "divers
whereof were persons of honest reputations and handsome estates," and
among them some of the members of the last Assembly, that the new
Assembly petitioned him to spill no more blood. A member from
Northumberland, Mr. William Presley by name, said that he "believed the
Governor would have hanged half the country if they had let him alone."

His Majesty King Charles II is said to have declared when accounts of
Berkeley's punishment of the rebels reached his ears, that the "old fool
had hanged more men in that naked country than he [Charles] had done for
the murder of his father."

With the completion of Sir William Berkeley's wholesale and pitiless
revenge fell the curtain upon the final act in the tragedy of Bacon's
Rebellion.

As soon as the country was quiet many suits were brought by members of
the Governor's party for damages to their property during the commotion.
These suits serve to show how widespread throughout the colony was the
uprising.

The records of Henrico County contain sundry charges of depredations
committed by Bacon's soldiers, showing that the people's cause was
strong in that section. Major John Lewis, of Middlesex, laid claim of
damages at the hands of "one Matt Bentley," with "forty or fifty
men-of-arms," in the "time of the late rebellion." Major Lewis's
inventory of his losses includes "400 meals" (which he declares were
eaten at his house by Bacon's men during their two days encampment on
his plantation), the killing of some of his stock, and carrying off of
meal "for the whole rebel army," at Major Pate's house.

The records of Westmoreland County show that the Baconians, under
"General" Thomas Goodrich, had control in the Northern Neck of Virginia
as late as November, 1676. Major Isaac Allerton, of Westmoreland,
brought suit for thirteen thousand pounds of tobacco for damages his
estate had suffered at the hands of a rebel garrison which had seized
and fortified the house of his neighbor, Colonel John Washington. The
jury gave him sixty-four hundred pounds.

Many illustrations of the unbroken spirit of Bacon's followers are
preserved in the old records.

When Stephen Mannering, the rebel officer who had given the order for
the seizure of Colonel Washington's house, inquired how many prisoners
had been taken there, and how they were armed, he was told fourteen,
with "guns loaden." Whereupon he exclaimed that if he had been there
with fourteen men, he would "uphold the house from five hundred men, or
else die at their feet."

Mannering furthermore expressed the opinion that "General Ingram was a
cowardly, treacherous dog for laying down his arms, or otherwise he
would die himself at the face of his enemies."

John Pygott, of Henrico, showed how far from recantation he was by
uttering a curse against all men who would not "pledge the juice and
quintessence of Bacon."




XV.

PEACE RESTORED.


About the time of meeting of the "Green Spring" Assembly, a small fleet
arrived from England, bringing the long-looked-for "red-coats" and also
three gentlemen--Sir John Berry, Colonel Herbert Jeffreys, and Colonel
Francis Moryson--commissioned by the King to inquire into and report
upon the state of affairs in the colony. His Majesty's "red-coats" found
that their services were not needed, but the conciliatory attitude of
the "Commissioners" doubtless aided in restoring peace, and their
official report makes interesting reading. In a tactful address to the
Assembly they expressed the hope that the "debates and consultations" of
that body might be for the "glory of God, the honor of his most sacred
Majesty, and the happy restoration, public good, and long lasting
welfare and resettlement of this so miserable, shattered, and lacerated
colony," and that the Assembly might gain for itself the "name and
memorable reputation of the _healing_ Assembly," and in order that it
might be the "more truly styled so," the Commissioners advised that it
would thoroughly "inspect and search into the depth and yet hidden root
and course of these late rebellious distempers that have broke out and
been so contagious and spreading over the whole country," that it might
thus decide "what apt and wholesome laws" might be "most properly
applied, not only to prevent the like evil consequences for the future
but also effectually to staunch and heal the fresh and bleeding wounds
these unnatural wars have caused among you, that there may as few and
small scars and marks remain, as you in your prudent care and tenderness
can possibly bring them to."

They "most heartily" assured the Assembly that in accordance with "his
Majesty's royal commission," granted to them, "under the great seal of
England," and his "instructions therewith given," they would "most
readily assist, promote and advise" it, and would be "happy" to bear
home to his Majesty the "burthens" which had disturbed "that peace and
tranquillity which his good subjects had so long enjoyed under his
Majesty's happy government," and which "by reason of the great and
remote distance" of Virginia from "the usual place of his royal
residence," could not be "so easily made known to him" as the troubles
of "other his subjects who live at a nearer distance." They promised
that the people's grievances, "be they few or many, great or less,"
should be received and "most sincerely reported" to the King, who, they
declared, "out of his royal favor and compassion" had been pleased to
promise a "speedy redress thereof, as to his royal wisdom shall seem
meet."

The Commissioners furthermore promised to aid in bringing about a "truly
good and just peace" with the Indians, and exhorted the Virginians to
keep peace among themselves, that the Indians might not again "look on"
while they were "murdering, burning, plundering and ruining one another,
without remorse or consideration." They recommended to the Assembly
various measures for the relief of the people's grievances--among them
reduction of salaries of the Burgesses to "such moderate rates as may
render them less grievous and burdensome to the country," a new election
of representatives every two years, cutting off the allowance for
"liquors drank by any members of committees," and other perquisites for
which the "tithable polls" had to pay so dearly.

The Commissioners refused to consider anonymous complaints, but
appointed Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays as days to receive and examine
"grievances" that were duly signed and sworn to.

The Commissioners' address to the Assembly is dated, "Swann's Point,
Feb. 27th, 1676-7," and is signed, "Your friends to serve you, Herbert
Jeffreys, John Berry, Francis Moryson."

In a proclamation dated "Whitehall, October 27, 1676," the King declared
that every man engaged in the Rebellion who would submit to the
government and take the oath of obedience within twenty days after the
royal proclamation should be published, would be "pardoned and forgiven
the rebellion and treason by him committed," and "be free from all
punishments for or by reason of the same."

Upon February 10 of the following year Sir William Berkeley published at
"Green Spring" a proclamation, similar to that of his Majesty, save that
it announced the "exception and expulsion of divers and sundry persons"
from the offer of pardon.

Upon May 15 still another proclamation was issued from Whitehall,
wherein his Majesty condemned Governor Berkeley's proclamation as "so
different from ours and so derogatory to our princely clemency toward
all our subjects," that it was declared to be of "no validity," and his
Majesty's own directions were ordered to be "punctually obeyed in all
points."

When the fleet of the Royal Commissioners sailed again for England, Sir
William Berkeley sailed with it to plead his own side of the question
before King Charles. Happily for himself, perhaps, he died not long
after he reached his native land, and without having seen the King. In a
letter written "on board Sir John Berry's ship," however (which has
already been quoted), he expressed some very energetic opinions
concerning Bacon and the Rebellion, which still live to bear witness to
the bitter old man's views.

In an address to the Assembly in June, 1680, Governor Berkeley's
successor, Governor Jeffreys--the same Jeffreys that had been a Royal
Commissioner--reminded the Virginians how the King had pardoned "all
persons whatever" that had engaged in the uprising, "except Bacon that
died and Lawrence that fled away," and added, "as his Majesty hath
forgot it himself, he doth expect this to be the last time of your
remembering the late Rebellion, and shall look upon them to be ill men
that rub the sore by using any future reproaches or terms of distinction
whatever."




XVI.

CONCLUSION.


And was Bacon's Rebellion, then, a failure? Far from it. Judged by its
results, it was indeed a signal success, for though the gallant leader
himself was cut down by disease at a moment when he himself felt that he
had but begun his work, though many of the bravest of his men paid for
their allegiance to the popular cause upon the scaffold, that cause was
won--not lost. Most of the people's grievances were relieved by the
reforms in the administration of the government, and the re-enactment of
Bacon's Laws made the relief permanent. The worst of all the
grievances--the Indian atrocities--was removed once and forever, for
Bacon had inspired the savages with a wholesome fear of the pale faces,
so that many of them removed their settlements to a safe distance from
their English neighbors, and a general treaty of peace, which seems to
have been faithfully kept, was effected with the others. And so the
colonists never had any more trouble with the red men until they began
to make settlements beyond the Blue Ridge.

According to a deposition made by "Great Peter, the great man of the
Nansemond Indians," the Weyanoke tribe, "when Bacon disturbed the
Indians," fled to their former settlements upon Roanoke River, in North
Carolina. In 1711 some "old men of the Nottaway Indians" upon being
asked if they knew anything of the return of the Weyanokes to Carolina
replied, "They did go thither for they were afraid of Squire Bacon, and
therefore were resolved to go to their own land."

Lovely woman flits in and out through the whole story of Bacon's
Rebellion, touching up the narrative here and there with the interest
her presence always creates. First there is the fair and fascinating
young wife of Sir William Berkeley, said to have turned his head in his
old age. A beautiful portrait of her remains to make excuses for the
bewitched husband's weakness. She seems to have been capable of
excessive irony upon occasion. The Royal Commissioners indignantly
complained that when they went ashore and called upon Lady Frances
Berkeley she received them courteously and sent them back to the wharf,
in state, in the Governor's coach, but they afterward found that the
coachman she chose to drive them was the "common hangman."

Then there is the brave-hearted young bride of the Rebel, trembling with
fears for his safety, no doubt, but exulting in his popularity, and
writing home to tell about it.

We have a series of characteristic pictures in the dusky "Queen of
Pamunkey" upbraiding the Virginians for the death of her consort, the
"mighty Totapotamoy"; the house-wives running out of their homes to see
the victorious Rebel pass and heap him with blessings and gifts of food;
the white-aproned ladies guarding the Rebel fort from the guns of their
own husbands, and, at the end of all, the wife of Major Cheesman upon
her knees before the Governor, praying to be hanged in her husband's
place. Madam Sarah Drummond seems to have been as ardent an admirer of
Bacon as her husband. When others were hesitating for fear of what his
Majesty's "red-coats" might do, she picked up a stick and broke it in
two, saying, "I fear the power of England no more than a broken straw."

The only child left by Nathaniel Bacon was a daughter, Mary, born a
short time before or after his death, and through her many can claim
descent from the Rebel, though none of them bear his name. She grew, in
due time, to womanhood, and married, in England, Hugh Chamberlain, a
famous doctor of medicine and physician to Queen Anne, and became the
mother of three daughters. The eldest of these, Mary, died a spinster,
the second, Anna Maria, became the wife of the Right Honorable Edward
Hopkins, who was a Member of Parliament for Coventry in the time of
William III and Anne, and Secretary of State for Ireland. The third
daughter, Charlotte, married Richard Luther, Esq., of Essex, England.

Young Madam Bacon, so early and tragically widowed, was married twice
afterward--first becoming Madam Jarvis and later Madam Mole. Devoid of
romance as this record sounds, her first love affair and marriage had
not been without a strong flavor of that captivating element. The young
woman's father, Sir Edward Duke, for reasons unknown, opposed the match
with "Nat" Bacon and provided in his will that his bequest to her of
L2,000 should be forfeited if she should persist in marrying "one
Bacon." That Mistress Elizabeth gave up her fortune for him, is but
another proof of the Rebel's charm.

Later, as Madam Jarvis, she and her husband brought suit for a share in
her father's estate, but the Lord Chancellor decided against her, and
gave as his opinion that her father had been right--"such an example of
presumptuous disobedience highly meriting such punishment; she being
only prohibited to marry with one man by name, and nothing in the whole
fair garden of Eden would serve her but this forbidden fruit."

Had Nathaniel Bacon's life been spared, who can say what its
possibilities might or might not have been? His brief career was that of
a meteor--springing in the twinkling of an eye into a dazzling being,
dashing headlong upon its brilliant way, then going out in mystery,
leaving only the memory of an existence that was all fire and motion. If
he had lived a hundred years later the number of heroes of the American
Revolution would doubtless have been increased by one--and his name
would have been at the top of the list, or near it.

For about two hundred years after the episode of Bacon's Rebellion, in
the history of Virginia, there was no light by which to view it other
than such as was afforded by a few meagre accounts of persons opposed to
it. It is only by the most painstaking and judicious sifting of these
contemporary and sometimes vexingly conflicting statements, diligent
study of the period, and research into official colonial records, of
late years unearthed, that the truth of the matter can be arrived at.

Unveiled by such investigation, the character of Bacon seems to have
been (while of course he had his faults like other mortals)
self-sacrificing to a heroic degree, sincere, unmercenary, and
high-minded. If otherwise, it nowhere is revealed, even by the
chronicles of his enemies, who while they frown upon his course cannot
hide their admiration of the man. Such of his followers as lived to tell
the story of the struggle from their own point of view doubtless dared
not commit it to paper. If his intrepid and accomplished friends,
Drummond and Lawrence, had lived, they might have left some testimony
which would have prevented the world from misjudging him as it did
through so many generations, though, after all, no musty document could
speak so clearly in his behalf as does the fact that they like so many
others, were ready to give their lives for him. A fire-brand! Perhaps
so; for some sores caustic is a necessary remedy. Profane? That he
undoubtedly was, but plain speech was a part of the time he lived in,
and a people settled in a wilderness and driven to desperation by hard
times and the constant fear of violent death would hardly have chosen
for their leader in a movement to redress their wrongs a man of mincing
manners or methods. The only memorial of him left by a friendly hand,
now remaining, is a bit of rhyme entitled, "Bacon's Epitaph made by his
man," which truly prophesied,

     "None shall dare his obsequies to sing
     In deserv'd measures, until time shall bring
     Truth crown'd with freedom, and from danger free
     To sound his praise to all posterity."




_APPENDIX._

_Original Sources of Information for "The Story of Bacon's Rebellion."_


Most of the official records and other contemporary manuscript
documents--including private letters--which supply material for a
history of Bacon's Rebellion have been printed and copies of them may be
found in collections of _Virginiana_ owned by historical societies and
libraries.

No one of these documents, however, sheds more than an imperfect
side-light upon this interesting subject. To understand the man Bacon,
and the merits of the rebellion led by him, familiarity with all
contemporary evidences, and a painstaking sifting of them, is necessary.

From the aforesaid evidences the author of this modest work has made a
sincere attempt to draw the real facts, bit by bit, and to patch them
together into a true story.

The items of the list which here follows have not been arranged in
chronological order--indeed, a number of the most important papers bear
no date. The collections where the original manuscripts may be or once
could have been found are indicated by italics. In some instances it has
been impossible to locate the original.

The British Public Record Office is referred to as P. R. O. and Colonial
Papers and Colonial Entry Books mentioned are classes of records in that
great depository.

The list does not include the abstracts in the English Calendar of State
Papers, and the acts in Hening's Statutes at Large of Virginia. All the
papers referred to are full copies.


_THE LIST._

The Beginning, Progress and Conclusion of Bacon's Rebellion in Virginia
in the year 1675 and 1676. Known as "T. M's" account--printed in the
_Richmond (Va.) Enquirer_, Sept., 1804, from the original, formerly in
the _Harleian Collection_, subsequently included in _Force's Tracts_.

An account of our late troubles in Virginia written in 1676 by Mrs. An.
Cotton of Q. Creeke. Published from the original manuscript in the
_Richmond Enquirer, Sept. 1804, and afterward in Force's Tracts_.

A Narrative of the Indian and Civil Wars in Virginia in the year 1675
and 1676. A manuscript found among the papers of Captain Nathaniel
Burwell of King William County, Virginia, first printed in Vol. 1, 2nd
Series, _Massachusetts Historical Society Collection_.

A List of those that have been Executed for the Late Rebellion in
Virginia by Sir William Berkeley, Governor of that Colony. Printed in
_Force's Tracts_ from the original manuscript in the _British Museum_
(_Harleian Collection_, Codex 6845, page 54) copied by _Robert Greenhow,
Esq., of Virginia_.

Strange Newse from Virginia, &c. (Printed) London, 1677.

Nathaniel Bacon's acknowledgement of offences, and request for pardon,
June 9, 1676. _General Court "Deeds and Wills, 1670-1677."_ _Hening's
Statutes at Large of Virginia_, II, 543.

A True Narrative of the Rise, Progress and Cessation of the Late
Rebellion in Virginia. * * * By His Majesty's Commissioners. _P. R. O.
Col. Papers_, XLI, 79. Va. Mag. Hist. & Biog., IV., 117-154.

Defence of Colonel Edward Hill. _P. R. O._ Va. Mag. Hist. & Biog., III,
239-252, 341-349; IV, 1-15.

Charles City County Grievances, May 10, 1677. _P. R. O._ Va. Mag. Hist.
& Biog., III, 132-160.

William Byrd's Relation of Bacon's Rebellion. Century Magazine (Edward
Eggleston), Va. Mag. Hist. & Biog., V, 220.

Council and General Court Records. _Robinson Notes._ Va. Mag., VIII,
411, 412; IX, 47, 306.

Bacon's Rebellion in Surry, County Court proceedings, July 4, 1677.
_Surry Records._ Wm. & Mary Quarterly, 125-126.

Bacon's Rebellion in Westmoreland County, depositions, &c., in regard
to, Oct. 21, Nov. 25, 1676, &c. _Westmoreland Records._ Wm. & Mary
Quarterly, II, 43-49.

Extracts from the records of Lower Norfolk County in regard to Capt.
William Carver, June 15, 1675, Jan. 15, 1676. _Lower Norfolk Records._
Wm. & Mary Quarterly, III, 163-164.

Bacon's Rebellion in Isle of Wight County, entries in county records
relating to, May 22, and July 14, 1677. _Isle of Wight Records._ Wm. &
Mary Quarterly, IV, 111-115.

Indian War, Orders of Northumberland County Court in regard to, July 4th
and 19th, and Sept. 20, 1676. _Northumberland Records._ Wm. & Mary
Quarterly, VIII, 24-27.

Grievances of Cittenborne Parish, Rappahannock County, March, 1677. _P.
R. O. Col. Papers_, Vol. XXIX, Nos. 62-63, also _Col. Entry Book_,
LXXXI, pp. 300-302. Va. Mag., III, 35-42.

Isle of Wight County Grievances, March, 1677. _P. R. O. Col. Papers_,
Vol. XXIX, Nos. 82-83, and _Col. Entry Bk._, Vol. LXXXI, pp. 316-319.
Va. Mag., II, 390-392.

Gloucester County Grievances, March, 1677. _P. R. O. Col. Pap._, Vol.
XXIX, No. 94, and _Col. Entry Bk._ No. 81, pp. 325-327. Va. Mag. II,
166-169.

Lower Norfolk County Grievances, March, 1677. _P. R. O. Col. Pap._, Vol.
XXIX, No. 95, and _Col. Entry Bk._ No. 81, pp. 327-328. Va. Mag., II,
169-170.

Surry County Grievances, March, 1677. _P. R. O. Col. Pap._, Vol. XXIX,
Nos. 69-70, and _Col. Entry Bk._, Vol. 81, pp. 304-307. Va. Mag., II,
170-173.

Northampton County Grievances, March, 1677. _P. R. O. Col. Pap._, Vol.
XXIX, No. 74, 75, and _Col. Entry Bk._, Vol. 81, pp. 309-312. Va. Mag.
289-292.

A Description of the fight between the English and the Indians in May,
1676. _Egerton MSS._, 2395. Wm. & Mary Quarterly, IX, 1-4.

Letter, Philip Ludwell, Va., June 28, 1676, to Sir Joseph Williamson.
_P. R. O. Col. Pap._, Vol. XXXVII, No. 16. Va. Mag. I, 174-186.

Letters, William Sherwood, James City, June 1 and 28, 1676, to Sir
Joseph Williamson. _P. R. O. Col. Papers_, Vol. XXXVII, No. 1 and No.
17. Va. Mag. I, 167-174.

Letter, Virginia, June 29, 1676, from the wife of Nathaniel Bacon to her
sister. _Egerton MSS._, 2325. Va. Mag., V, 219-220. Wm. & Mary
Quarterly, IX, 4-5.

Mr. Bacon's Account of the Troubles in Virginia, June 18, 1676. _Egerton
MSS._, 2395. Wm & Mary Quarterly, IX, 6-10.

Charter of Virginia, dated Oct. 10, 1676 (but never granted). _Bland
MSS., Library of Congress and contemporary copy, Va. Historical
Society._ Hening II, 532, 533; Burk's Virginia, II, lxii.

Proclamation by Charles II, Westminster, Oct. 10, 1676, granting pardon
to the Governor and Assembly and other subjects in Virginia. _Pat. Roll,
28 Car._ II, No. 11. Hening II, 423-424.

Letter, Governor Berkeley, Nov. 29, 1676, to Major Robert Beverley,
_Beverley MSS._ Hening III, 568.

General Court Proceedings, Sept. 28, 1677 (in regard to the Rebellion).
_General Court Records._ Hening II, 557.

General Court Proceedings, Oct. 26, 1677. _General Court Records._
Hening II, 557-558.

Bacon's Rebellion, Depositions, Nov. 15, 1677, in regard to Col. Thomas
Swann's Conduct in. _Surry Records._ Wm. & Mary Quarterly, XI, 80-81.

Mrs. Bird's Relation, who lived Nigh Mr. Bacon in Virginia * * *
_Egerton MSS._, 2395. Wm. & Mary Quarterly, IX, 10.

Proposals of Thos. Ludwell and Robert Smith, to the king, for reducing
the rebels in Virginia [1676]. _P. R. O._ Va. Mag. I, 432-435.

Petition of Thomas Bacon (father of Nathaniel) to the King, June (?)
1676. _P. R. O. Col. Pap._, Vol. XXXVII, No. 15. Va. Mag., I, 430-431.

Proceedings of Court Martial on board ship in York River, Jan. 11,
1676-77. _General Court Records._ Hening II, 545-546.

Proceedings of Court Martial on board ship in York River, Jan. 12,
1676-77. _General Court Records._ Hening II, 546.

Proceedings of Court Martial at Green Spring, Jan. 24, 1676-77. _General
Court Records._ Hening II, 547-548.

Proceedings of Court Martial at Bray's House, Jan. 20, 1676-77. _General
Court Records._ Hening II, 546-547.

A True and faithful account in what condition we found your Majesty's
Colony of Virginia, of our transactions, &c., signed by the
Commissioners Berry and Moryson. _P. R. O. Col. Pap._, Vol. XXXVII, No.
51. 427. Burk's Virginia II, 253-259.

Proceedings of Court Martial at Green Spring, Jan. 24, 1676-77. _General
Court Records._ Hening II, 547-548.

Proceedings of General Court at Green Spring, March 1, 1676-77. _General
Court Records._ Hening II, 548.

Proceedings of General Court at Green Spring, March 8, 1676-77. _General
Court Records._ Hening II, 549-550.

Proceedings of General Court at Green Spring, March 9, 10, 15, 16, 17,
22, 1676-77. _General Court Records._ Hening II, 550-556.

Nathaniel Bacon's Manifesto Concerning the present troubles in Virginia
(_n. d._) _P. R. O. Col. Pap._, Vol. XXXVII, No. 51. Va. Mag. I, 55-58.

The Declaration of the People, By Bacon. Aug. 3, 1676. _P. R. O._, Vol.
XXXVII, No. 41. Va. Mag., I, 59-61. Mass. Hist. Soc. Collections, 4th
Series, Vol. IX, 184-186.

Bacon's Appeal to the People of Accomac (_n. d._). _P. R. O. Col. Entry
Bk._, Vol. 81, pp. 254-263. Va. Mag., I, 61-63.

Orders of the General Assembly at Session begun Feb. 26, 1676-77.
_Northumberland Co. MS._ Hening II, 401-406.

Additional instructions from the King to Governor Berkeley, Whitehall,
Nov. 13, 1676. _P. R. O. Col. Entry Bk._, Vol. 80, pp. 111-114. (In the
English Cal. Col. State Papers, these instructions are dated Oct. 13; in
Hening, Nov. 13.) Hening II, 424-426.

Surry County, submission of Bacon's followers in, Feb. 6, 1677. _Surry
Records._ Wm. & Mary Quarterly, XI, 79-80.

Testimony of Governor Berkeley in regard to Robert Beverley's services
during the Rebellion, Northampton Co., Nov. 13, 1676. _Beverley MS._
Hening III, 567.

Letter, Governor Berkeley, Jan. 18, 1676 (7), to Robert Beverley.
_Beverley MS._ Hening III, 569.

Letter, Governor Berkeley, Jan. 21, 1676-77, to Robert Beverley.
_Beverley MS._ Hening III, 569.

The Petition of the County of Gloucester, July, 1676, to Sir William
Berkeley, and his answer. _Chalmers (Aspinwall) Papers._ Mass. Hist.
Col., 4th Series, Vol. IX, 181-184.

The Declaration and Remonstrance of Sir William Berkeley, May 29, 1676.
_Chalmers (Aspinwall) Papers._ Mass. Hist. Col., 4th Series, Vol. IX,
178-181.

The Opinion of Council of Virginia Concerning Mr. Bacon's Proceedings,
May 29, 1676. _Chalmers (Aspinwall) Papers._ Mass. Hist. Col., 4th
Series, Vol. IX, pp. 177-178.

Virginia's Deploured Condition. Or an Impartial Narrative of the Murders
Committed by the Indians there, and the sufferings * * * under the
Rebellious outrages of Mr. Nath. Bacon, Jr. * * * to the tenth day of
August, 1676. _Chalmers (Aspinwall) Papers._ Mass. Hist. Col., 4th
Series, Vol. IX, 162-176.

A dialogue between the Rebel Bacon and one Goode as it was presented to
* * * Sir William Berkeley, Governor of Virginia. _P. R. O. Col. Entry
Bk._, lxxi. pp. 232-240. Goode's "Our Virginia Cousins."

A Review, Breviarie and Conclusion, being a Summarie account of the late
rebellion in Virginia. _P. R. O. Col. Entry Bk._, Vol. 81, pp. 411-419.
Burk's Virginia, II, 250-253.

Letter, Giles Bland, James Town, April 20, 1676, to Charles Berne
(England). Burk's Virginia II, 245-249.

Letter, Francis Moryson, London, Nov. 28, 1677, to Thomas Ludwell.
Burk's Virginia II, 265-270.

Letter, Charles II, Oct. 22, 1677, to Governor Jeffreys. Burk's Virginia
II, 264-265.

Vindications of Sir William Berkeley (1676). _Randolph MS._, Va. Hist.
Soc. Va. Mag. VI, 139-144. Burk's Virginia, II, 259-264.

List of persons who suffered in Bacon's Rebellion, report by the
Commissioners, Oct. 15, 1677. _P. R. O. Col. Entry Bk._, Vol. 81, pp.
353-357. Va. Mag. Hist. & Biog. V, 64-70.




TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES


On page 42, the name "Skipton" is used while page 43 has "Skippon". If
this is the same person, the name on page 42 is spelled incorrectly.
Skippon is listed as the name of the author of an article in
"Churchill's Voyages".

The following corrections have been made to the text:

     Page 21: Assembly chosen in 1662[original has 1862]

     Page 109: GOVERNOR BERKELEY[original has BERKELY] IN ACCOMAC.

     Page 120: neck of land, thus cutting[original has cuting] off
     all communication

     Page 133: triumph was marked by dignity[original has diginity]

     Page 146: upon her knees pleaded[original has plead] that she

     Page 159: grievous and burdensome to the country,"[quotation
     mark missing in the original]

     Page 171: _Original Sources of Information for "The Story of
     Bacon's Rebellion._"[quotation mark missing in original]

     Page 176: _Egerton MSS._, 2395. Wm.[period missing in
     original] & Mary Quarterly, IX, 1-4.

     Page 177: _Egerton MSS._, 2395. Wm. & Mary Quarterly,[comma
     missing in original] IX, 10.

     Page 179: Vol. 81, pp.[period missing in original] 254-263





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of Bacon's Rebellion, by
Mary Newton Stanard

*** 