BURNING OF JAMESTOWN.
"At every turn, Morena's dusky height
Sustains aloft the battery's iron load,
And, far as mortal eye can compass sight,
The mountain-howitzer, the broken road,
The bristling palisade, the foss o'erflowed,
The stationed band, the never-vacant watch,
The magazine in rocky durance stand,
The holster'd steed beneath the shed of thatch,
The ball-piled pyramid, the ever-blazing match."
--BYRON.
Sir William Berkeley, with the motley crowd of sailors, longshoremen,
freed slaves, and such as he could collect, sailed for Jamestown and
reached it safely September 7th, 1676. The news of his approach reached
Jamestown long before he did, and Colonel Hansford, one of Bacon's
youngest and bravest officers, with eight hundred men prepared to
resist. A terrible conflict was anticipated, and Sir Albert, on the
morning of the expected fight, landed and took Mrs. Price, her daughter
and Ester Goffe on board his ship, and dropped down the river a mile or
two, to be out of harm's way. These were the first people who had been
aboard the wonderful ship _Despair_.
Rebecca was charmed and entranced at the display of wealth and splendor
on board the vessel. The elegance was marvellous.
"You must be very rich," she said to Sir Albert.
"This represents but a small part of my possessions."
"I would I were your heiress."
"You may be, sweet maid. I have no nearer relative to inherit the
millions which are burdensome to me."
"Have you no wife--no children?"
He shook his head, looked so sad, and turned away with such a deep drawn
sigh, that she could not bear to ask him more.
Berkeley appeared that evening before Jamestown and summoned the rebels
to surrender, promising amnesty to all but Lawrence and Drummond, who
were then in the town. Hansford refused; but, on the advice of his
friends, they all left the town that night. At noon next day Berkeley
landed on the island and, kneeling, thanked God for his safe arrival.
Only a very few people were found in the town, and Lawrence and Drummond
were gone. Mr. Lawrence fled so precipitately that he left his house
with all its effects to fall into the hands of the enemy.
Drummond and the thoughtful Mr. Lawrence hastened to find Bacon, who
was at West Point at the head of the York River.
Bacon acted with an energy and rapidity that would have done Napoleon or
Cromwell credit. With his faithful body guard, among whom were Robert
Stevens, Drummond, Cheeseman and Lawrence, he set out for Jamestown.
Carriers, sent in every direction, summoned the Baconites to join him,
so that his small band increased so rapidly, that when he reached
Jamestown he had a force of several hundred.
The governor prepared to receive the rebels. He threw up a strong
earth-work, and a palisade had been erected across the neck of the
island. Bacon, on reaching Jamestown, rode forward to reconnoitre it. He
then ordered his trumpeters to sound the battle cry, and a volley was
fired into the town; but no response came back.
Bacon made his headquarters at Greenspring, in Governor Berkeley's own
house, and while Sir William dined at the board of the thoughtful Mr.
Lawrence, the rebel fed at the table of the governor. Resolving on a
siege, Bacon threw up earth-works about the town in front of the
palisades. Berkeley's riflemen so annoyed the men at work, that Bacon
had recourse to a strange device to protect them. He sent a detachment
of horse into the surrounding country, captured and brought to camp the
wives of all the prominent gentlemen who fought with Berkeley. Perhaps
Mrs. Price only escaped by being on board the ship _Despair_. Madame
Bray, Madame Page, Madame Ballard and Madame Bacon, the wife of Bacon's
cousin, were among the number. These women were placed before the
workmen in the trenches to protect them from the bullets of Berkeley.
"Have no apprehensions from us, good-wives," said Bacon. "We shall not
harm a hair of your head. If your husbands shoot you we are not
to blame."
Bacon has been censured for this ungallant strategy; but it worked well
and saved his workmen from further annoyance. He sent one of the
good-wives into the town under a flag of truce to inform her own and the
others' husbands, that he meant to place them "in the forefront of his
workmen," during the construction of the earth-works, and if they fired
on them, the good-wives would suffer.
No attack was made on Bacon until the earth-works were completed, and
then the women were sent to their homes during the night. Next morning
at early dawn, Berkeley sounded his battle-cry, and his men mustered at
the roll of the drum. Bacon was on the alert. His eagle eye glanced
along his earth-works and the gallant men enrolled under him.
"They are coming! They are coming with their whole force!" he shouted,
as he stood on the ramparts, his sword in his hand and his eye flashing
with the glorious light of battle. Matches were burning, the cocks of
the fusees raised, and the Virginians stood cool and undaunted.
There came a puff of smoke from the palisades at Jamestown, a heavy
report of a cannon, and an iron ball struck the earth-work.
"Come down, general!" cried the thoughtful Mr. Lawrence. "You endanger
your life up there."
Bacon paid no heed to the warning. He was watching the manoeuvres of the
enemy, about eight hundred strong, who were about to assault him. Robert
Stevens sprang to his side, and both smiled at the lack of courage and
discipline which Berkeley's longshoremen displayed. Giles Peram, at the
head of the company, marched forth. He wore a tall hat with a feather in
it, and strutted about, until his eye caught sight of the enemy, when he
wheeled about as quickly as if he were on springs and bounded away
toward Jamestown, yelling loud enough to be heard in Bacon's camp:
"Oh, I will be killed! I will be killed!"
A shot was fired from Jamestown, and Giles, believing himself struck,
fell on the ground and rolled over and kicked, producing such a
ridiculous scene, that Robert and Bacon laughed outright. Berkeley,
himself, headed the army, with which he intended to storm the
earth-works, and, after some little difficulty, he got his forces
formed, and the advance began.
"Don't fire, until I give you the command," said Bacon, coolly. "We will
soon disperse this motley crowd, have no fear."
He and Robert were prevailed upon to descend from the ramparts, and all
awaited the arrival of the enemy. They came slowly, doing plenty of
yelling, and firing their fusees at random. The bullets either buried
themselves in the earth-works, or whistled harmlessly through the air.
Not one of Bacon's men was touched.
Nearer and nearer they came, until within easy pistol range, when Bacon
cried:
"Fire!"
Pistol, musket and cannon belched forth fire and death, while a cloud of
smoke rolled up above the fort. One volley had done the work. Alas! the
motley crowd from Accomac were no fit adversaries for those stern
backwoodsmen. Berkeley's recruits had come over to plunder, and, finding
lead and bullets instead of gold and treasure, they fled with light
heels to Jamestown, leaving a dozen of their number stretched on the
ground as the only proof that they had fought at all.
Bacon now opened a cannonade in earnest on the town. The first ball that
came screaming over the town to crash into the house which was the
governor's headquarters was answered by a wild yell of fear, and the
boastful Mr. Peram might have been seen flying as fast as his short legs
would carry him to another part of the fortification. Another boom, and
a shot struck the ground ten paces from him, and he wheeled about and
ran, until a third shot struck a house before him. Then he ran to the
church and crawled under it, where he lay until night.
Berkeley realized that he was in no condition to resist Bacon with such
a set of knaves as he had for soldiers.
"We cannot long hold out, Mr. Price," he said as the sun was setting.
"No, Sir William, we must evacuate the city this very night."
"I believe it. Where is that coward Giles Peram?"
"He hath taken refuge under the church."
"Drag him hence. Robert Stevens is among the rebels, and the fool will
fare hard if he falls into his hands."
A few moments later the wretched, trembling Giles was brought before
the governor. His scarlet coat, lace and ruffles were torn and
disordered. He was reprimanded for his cowardice, and the army at once
began to evacuate. When day dawned Berkeley was gone and Bacon entered
the town. Mr. Drummond, Mr. Lawrence and Mr. Cheeseman went to
their homes.
The ship _Despair_, which had been near enough to witness the scene, now
bore down nearer to the town. Boats were lowered and the three women set
on shore. Robert greeted his mother, his affianced and his sister with
the most ardent affection. He had suffered much uneasiness about them,
not knowing where they were, and he was overjoyed to see them.
That evening, while Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Drummond and Mr. Cheeseman were
holding a council at the house of the former, the door suddenly opened
and a tall white-haired stranger entered. Each started to his feet at
the appearance of this apparition and seized pistols and swords.
"Never fear, friends; I came not to harm you," said Sir Albert, in his
mild, gentle, but stern voice.
"You intrude--you disturb us!" cried Cheeseman. "We want no spy on our
deliberations."
"Verily, my good man, you speak truly. These are deliberations at which
there must be no spy. Let no whispering tongue breathe aught of
this meeting."
His words were so strange, that they stood amazed, gazing at him in
wonder. Drummond at last gasped:
"'Fore God, who are you?"
"A man like you," was the answer; "a man no older, yet whom sorrow hath
crushed and bowed with premature age; a man with a heart to feel and a
brain to think; a man who would willingly exchange places with you,
though you stand within the shadow of a scaffold; a man, whose heart--O
God!--must speak, or it will break; a friend who loves you, who never
wronged any one, but has been made the puppet of outrageous fortune; a
man who has more wealth than all Virginia, and yet is poorer than the
lowest beggar; a man born to misfortune; a child of sorrow and of tears;
one who never loved, but to see the object of his affections blighted or
stolen; a man to whom dungeons, chains, slavery, death, hell itself
would be heaven compared to what he hath endured; such a poor wretch, my
friends, is now before you."
He could say no more, but, sinking upon a chair, buried his face in his
hands and burst into tears. The three friends gazed at him for several
seconds in astonishment; then they looked at each other for some
solution to this mystery.
"What meaneth this?" Drummond asked when he regained his voice. "Surely
I have heard that voice before. It takes me back, back into the past,
many years ago, when we were all young."
Before any one could say a word, Sir Albert started up, laid aside his
cocked hat and, brushing back his long snow-white hair from his massive
brow, said:
"Drummond, Lawrence, Cheeseman, friends of my youth, look on this face
and, in God's name, tell me you recognize one familiar feature left by
the hand of misfortune."
The three looked,--started to their feet, and Drummond cried:
"God in heaven! hath the sea given up its dead? _It is John Stevens_!"
"It is John Stevens, alive and in the flesh," he quickly answered. At
first they could hardly believe him, until he briefly told them the
story of his shipwreck and wonderful adventures on the island, of the
treasures untold thrown into his hands, and finally of a ship, in search
of water, putting into his poor harbor. After no little trouble he got
his treasure aboard this vessel without the crew suspecting what it was
and sailed to Europe. His vast wealth had procured all else--ship,
faithful men, the king's favor and all needful to his plans.
"Then I sailed for Virginia to meet sorrow, good friends, and live a
living death," he concluded.
"Did you know of her marriage before your arrival?"
"Yes, I was told in London by a Virginian of whom I made some inquiry. I
could not believe it at first, for Dorothe always condemned second
marriages, and oft, when ailing, predicted that I would wed when she
died, and bring a second mother over her children."
Drummond struck his fist upon the table vehemently, answering:
"'Fore God, it is always thus with the howling wenches! That which they
most disclaim will they do. She hath not waited until her husband was
dead, but hath married--"
"Drummond, hold your peace; she is the mother of my children and was
true to me while my wife. Unless you would lose my friendship, speak not
against the woman whom I still love," and John Stevens buried his white
head in his hands and trembled as if in an ague fit.
"Forgive me, my friend; forgive me; I was hasty," said Drummond. "I have
naught to say against the woman who was and still is your wife. Verily,
she hath had her punishment,--and the poor children, how they have
suffered."
"I know all," John sobbed.
"What will you do?"
"Alas, I know not."
"Why not declare yourself to the world and claim your wife?"
"What! Illegalize the marriage and make an adulteress of my wife? No,
never! I pray you, my friends, pledge me on your oaths as gentlemen
never to reveal my identity, while she or I shall live."
Drummond, who was impetuous and hated Hugh Price, cried:
"And will you leave her to him?"
"Yes," was the low, meek answer.
"Will you not seek revenge?"
"'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.'"
Drummond was choking with fury and amazement. After a moment he regained
control over himself, and gasped:
"Heavens! can God permit such injustice? And you will surrender her to
him?"
"They believe themselves lawfully married. She hath committed no crime
in the sight of heaven."
"But wherefore not tear her from his arms and fly to some foreign land?"
"Nay, my friend, we have two children, a son and daughter, for whose
peace we must have a care. Dare I for their sakes declare who I am?"
Drummond was eager to put a bullet into the brain of Price; but John
Stevens was a man of peace and not of blood. His days were few on earth;
his race was almost run, and the prime and vigor of his manhood had been
wasted on a desert island. His only desire was to hover unknown about
those he loved, that they might not want or suffer while he lived, and
he had already arranged his fortune so it would descend to Robert and
Rebecca when he died.
"Yet I must live unknown, my friends. Swear to keep my secret."
They swore on their honor, and the miserable old man, whose fine apparel
was only a disguise, rose and left them. The three friends were sitting
looking at each other in speechless amazement, when the door again burst
open, and the impetuous Bacon, accompanied by Robert Stevens, entered.
"Why sit you here?" cried the general. "Have you not heard the news?"
"No; what is it?"
"Berkeley hath been reinforced, they say, by troops from England, and is
coming upon the town."
Drummond, Cheeseman and Lawrence were on their feet in a moment, their
faces evincing alarm. No one doubted the truth of the story, and they
began to hurriedly discuss the situation.
"Are we able to defend Jamestown against them?" asked the thoughtful Mr.
Lawrence.
"No," answered Bacon.
"Then we must abandon it."
[Illustration: RUINS OF JAMESTOWN]
"They shall not find the town when they come," cried Bacon. "D--n my
blood! I will burn Jamestown, and not a stone shall be left standing
upon another. Burn it, yes burn it, so that three centuries hence naught
but its ashes and ruins will mark where it stands to-day!"
What Bacon ordered in the heat of passion was indorsed by sober reason,
and it was resolved to burn the town.
"But your own house, Mr. Drummond, will have to be burned," cried
Robert.
"I will fire it with my own hand. It will be the first that burns,"
answered Drummond. Immediately the news spread that the town had been
doomed. The troops were assembled in the streets, and the people
summoned to vacate their houses. There were wailings and shrieks that
night. Robert ran to his home and told his mother, what was to be done.
She came weeping into the street and asked:
"What will become of us, my son? Whither shall we fly? We are three
helpless women without a roof to protect us."
"Until this storm hath blown away, let my ship be your home," said a
deep, sad voice at her side, and, turning about, she beheld Sir Albert
St. Croix, the man who had so strangely impressed her.
"Mother, go, take Ester and sister and go aboard the _Despair_," cried
Robert. Then, turning to the strange old man, he seized his hand and
continued, "Kind sir, you look the soul of honor. Will you care for them
until this hour has passed?"
Sir Albert's breast heaved a moment like the tumultuous storm; then he
answered:
"I will, I swear by the God we all worship!"
Robert hastily gathered up some personal effects and precious family
relics, and carried them aboard the ship with his mother, Ester and
Rebecca. On his return, he saw a bright flame dart up from the corner of
Drummond's house and heard that gentleman say:
"Farewell, dear home! Better perish thus than be a harbor for tyrants."
Drummond had fired his own house. Mr. Lawrence did the same. The street
was now filled with weeping and shrieking women and children and piles
of household goods. A moment later, and Robert saw the burning flames
leaping up about the home of his childhood--the house his father had
erected. They leaped and crackled angrily and licked the roof with their
hot, thirsty tongues, and he turned away his head. An hour later
Jamestown was no more. It has never been rebuilt, and only the ruins of
the old church mark the spot where once it stood.
Bacon and his army retreated up the country.