On the morning of the Anniversary of the Restoration, the sun was just
emerging above the eastern horizon, the sky was unclouded and serene,
the air balmy and elastic, and the volumes of misty drapery from the
river were fast rolling away over the hills, as the Recluse stood upon
one of the highest points of the river cliffs, with folded arms,
surveying the scene around him.
Far back as the eye could reach to the west, all was interminable
forest--the foreground exhibiting occasional specks of cleared land,
where some planter, more adventurous than his fellows, had boldly
trusted his fortunes to the mercy of the savage.
He looked upon the little city beneath, as the weary mariner on a long
voyage may be supposed to look upon a green island in the midst of a
desert of waters. His chest heaved as the swelling emotions of pent up
years burst from his over-loaded heart. Bacon, the manly and ingenuous
youth, whom the reader will remember as having been appointed to visit
him on this morning, had just sprung upon a mettled and pawing charger,
which was now throwing the fire and pebbles from his heels in thick
volleys, as his master with a fire and impetuosity scarcely inferior to
his own, bent over his uncurbed neck as he descended into the plain.
Several pieces of light artillery, together with volleys of musketry in
quick succession, thundered over the smooth waters of the Powhatan, and
reverberated in multiplied peals under the feet of the Recluse. There
was something connected with this day, and its celebration, which seemed
powerfully to have stirred up the still waters within him. Thick coming
fancies connected with by-gone days were rolling over his soul in an
uncontrolled torrent. But we must leave him for a time to his own
reflections, amidst the solitary grandeur of the scene, while we pursue
the road of the flying Cavalier towards the city.
The bells from the Church and State House were now also heard in the
intervals of the cannonade, and as we approach nearer to the scene, a
strange confusion of many sounds greet the ear. Drums and fifes, violins
and banjoes, and even jews-harps, all lent their aid to swell the burst
of joy and gratulation. Smiling and happy faces were grouped along the
streets, while gay damsels, in their holyday finery, adorned the doors
and windows of the busy citizens. A perfect Babel of commingled noises
issued from the spacious area of a tobacco warehouse, which, after the
usual fashion, consisted of an extensive roof, supported by colonnades
to every front. Here was congregated the rising generation--boisterous
and happy in the midst of their games and sports. No schoolmaster was
abroad on that day, to rush in upon the unwary urchins, and wreak upon
them the vengeance of Samson upon the Philistines.
Our forefathers suffered their children to follow very much their own
humours in the selection of those amusements suited to their age and
condition. We see not but the result was as happy as that of the systems
of our day, when every thing is regulated by system, even to the games
and amusements of our children. The time is certainly not far distant
when Geography will be taught by a game at cards; Chemistry by set
_conversations_ upon the constituents of our edibles, and Natural
Philosophy developed in nursery rhymes, that we may imbibe it with our
lullabies.
On the morning in question, as merry a set of boisterous lads kicked up
the dust in the old warehouse, as ever fought over a game of marbles, or
laughed through one of leap-frog. And while the merry urchins, whom we
have taken under our special protection, were thus enjoying a glorious
holyday, their elders and superiors were moved by the same impulses. The
mansion of the Governor itself was in visible commotion; servants
swelling with importance, aped the grandeur of their masters' looks,
while they ran from room to room on their various duties. A provincial
band of music was stationed under the windows, uniting their sweet
sounds to the Babel-like uproar, in the well known tune of "Over the
waters to Charley."
There was one little green spot upon the common inviting the
contemplative mind to pleasing reveries. Here a few of the humbler
maidens of the city were adorning the overhanging bushes with gay
garlands of flowers, preparatory to the evening dance, which they
contemplated celebrating in imitation of their superiors, who were to
move in more stately measures at the mansion of the Governor.
The household of Gideon Fairfax was likewise earlier than usual on the
alert, and he being one of the council of the Colony, came in also for a
share of the honours noised forth under the windows of the most
distinguished Cavaliers.
Breakfast had been some time waiting at the table, and the fondly
indulged daughter had been repeatedly summoned, but still she came not.
This excited the more surprise in the minds of her parents, as they
supposed, that on this eventful morning, of all others in the year, she
would be up with the lark. The truth was, that after retiring at such an
unusual hour of the night, or rather morning--her slumbers were
disturbed between sleeping and waking, by shadowy dreams of yelling
savages, chivalrous youths, and mighty giants.
At length, however, she appeared, but instead of bounding into the room
with gay and elastic steps, and more buoyant spirits, in happy
anticipation of the promised enjoyments of the day, her movements were
slow and heavy--her eyes red and swollen, and her whole appearance
indicative of languor and dejection. Her fond parents were instantly at
her side--each taking a hand as she walked into the room, and striving
to learn from the fancied invalid the nature of her sufferings. She
assured them that she had nothing to complain of but want of rest, and
with this they were the more readily satisfied, as towards morning there
had indeed been much firing of guns, and other demonstrations of
loyalty. Her parents being thus satisfied, that her account of the
matter was the true one, Virginia was suffered to assume her place at
the head of the table--a place she had for some time occupied on account
of the delicate state of her mother's health. Meanwhile the anxious
parents assumed their own places, and endeavoured to beguile their
daughter's languor by allusions to the merry sounds, and gay group
without, not forgetting the assembly at the Governor's; and it is more
than probable that they would have succeeded, as few spirited and
blooming beauties of sixteen can long listen unmoved to such details,
had not Virginia, raising her half cheerful face at that moment to a
large mirror which hung opposite, caught the reflection of a person in
whose welfare she took a lively interest, standing in one corner of the
room, and partly behind her chair, with a countenance and attitude which
expressed the deepest misery. This was no other that Wyanokee, her own
little Indian attendant, who officiated near the person of her
mistress, in a medium capacity between friend and servant; the mistress
only requiring the companion, and the maid spontaneously offering the
services due both from affection and gratitude.
The figure of Wyanokee was diminutive, but like most of the aboriginal
females, exquisitely proportioned, and graceful, after the fashion of
nature's finest schooling. Her face was oval and between a brown and
yellow colour, yet there was a vital tinge occasionally illuminating
this predominant dark ground, which bespoke the refined female, in
language intelligible to all, and far more eloquently than the tongue.
Her hair was jet black, and folded upon her small round head after the
fashion of the Europeans; and her brilliant teeth exhibited a striking
contrast to the dark shades of her skin, and darker sparkling eyes. The
delicately penciled brows, arched beautifully over a countenance
strikingly feminine and lady-like; and the general expression was that
calm sadness which has been remarked as characteristic of the
domesticated aborigines from that day to the present. Her dress was
essentially after the fashion of the whites of that day, just retaining
sufficient of the Indian costume, however, to set off her slight but
graceful figure to the best advantage. The exquisite proportions of her
finely shaped foot and ankle were displayed in a closely fitting deer
skin moccasin, studded around the eyelet holes, and wrought in curious,
but not unpleasing figures, with party-coloured beads and porcupine
quills. Around her neck, and falling upon her gently swelling bosom,
were many ingeniously wrought ornaments of wampum and silver--and around
her wrists, bracelets of the same materials. Wyanokee was of the
Chickahominy tribe, and had been taken prisoner after the murder of her
parents by one of the neighbouring tribes, who at the time were at war
with the Chickahominies. Nathaniel Bacon saw her in one of his hunting
excursions, and struck with her native beauty, and pleading countenance,
redeemed her from captivity at the expense of a string of blue beads.
From thence he brought her to Jamestown, to remain until some
opportunity should occur of restoring her to her tribe. Her parents
having been slain, however, as we have already said, and much time
necessarily having elapsed before such opportunity occurred, Virginia
took advantage of it, and by mild and affectionate treatment,
endeavoured to win her to herself. A mutual and peculiar attachment was
the consequence, so that when the opportunity actually occurred,
Wyanokee refused to return to the almost extinct tribe of her fathers.
Two years had now elapsed since her introduction into the Fairfax
family, during which time Virginia, an assiduous pupil herself, became
in her turn instructress to her little protegee. Already had she learned
many of the little feminine arts and accomplishments of civilized life,
and made considerable proficiency in the English language--which,
however, she never employed except in private to her instructress, or
on some urgent occasion. Half the young Cavaliers in Jamestown would
have been willing devotees at the shrine of Wyanokee's beauty, after the
corrupt fashions of the parent court and country. But such celebrity was
not suited to the taste or ambition of the Indian maiden. Whenever the
little errands of her patroness led her to the shops of the city,
instead of encouraging the forward and impudent gallantries of the young
profligates, she would trip along like a frightened partridge--always
turning a deaf ear to their flatteries, and keeping her eyes fixed upon
the earth, in the most modest, natural and simple guise. Notwithstanding
her habitual indifference to the flatteries of her many admirers, there
was one youth whose very step upon the door sill her practised ear could
detect. Not that her deliverer had ever taken advantage of her gratitude
to him--her ignorance of civilized refinements, or her dependent
situation, to poison her mind with the deceitful flatteries too common
with his comrades of that day. The passion was perhaps the growth of
time and reflection and the effect of gratitude, as the little Indian
maiden became capable of instituting comparisons between his conduct
towards herself and that of the young Cavaliers, whose assiduities have
been already mentioned. Certain it is, that if it had been from some
sudden impulse in their earlier intercourse, the customs of her race
would have fully borne her out in declaring her passion to its object
at once. At the time of which we write, however, this feeling was a
profound secret within her own bosom, as she hoped and believed; and the
more Virginia impressed upon her mind the necessity of reserve and
modesty in her intercourse with the other sex, the more jealous she
became in concealing the passion that possessed her heart. Nevertheless,
it influenced all her after life, and gave a touching interest to the
progress of her moral and intellectual development.
Some few of her Indian peculiarities were still retained by Wyanokee;
her gesticulation was far more powerful and expressive than her small
compass of language, and the ordinary indifference of her race to
passing and exciting themes, was yet preserved by her. Her gentle
mistress could indeed work upon her sensibilities through the medium of
her affection and gratitude, like a skilful musician upon a finely toned
instrument, but the master key was still wanting even to her. There was
one peculiarity of her race not quite so agreeable or inoffensive as
those already mentioned--namely, the silence and celerity of her
movements; sometimes she would appear to Virginia in the middle of the
night with the imagined abruptness of an unearthly spirit. Often would
the fair maiden awake from her slumbers and find her stooping over her
couch--with the saddest and most intense interest expressed in her
countenance--and again she would glide through the silent apartments of
the spacious mansion with a movement so shadowy and noiseless, that it
seemed almost impossible to be effected by a substantial being.
When Virginia raised her eyes from the breakfast-table, and beheld
Wyanokee's mute despair, as exhibited in the opposite mirror, her former
nervous alarm and agitation instantly returned.
She was entirely at a loss to account for the unusual feeling exhibited
by her attendant, except by connecting it in some way with her late
nocturnal adventures. And it was a fearful supposition which flashed
through her mind, that Wyanokee was acquainted with her last night's
undertaking; yet at the same time ignorant of her motives. Hurrying
mechanically through the meal, she rose, and taking the hand of the
young Indian, was about to retire; but at that moment Nathaniel Bacon
rode up to the door, his charger covered with dust and foam; leaping
from his back and throwing the rein to an attendant, he entered the room
at the very moment when the two maidens were about to make their exit.
Under the peculiar circumstances of the case perhaps no one could have
entered more mal-appropos. Mr. Fairfax himself and Bacon had parted, at
the termination of their last interview, with excited and unpleasant
feelings, both having lost command of temper. Virginia had last seen him
under circumstances also which in themselves were calculated to excite
no very pleasing reminiscences; but considering the precise attitude in
which she stood at that moment with regard to Wyanokee, the interview
promised to be still more embarrassing. Nor was the promise
falsified--the salutations of the gentlemen were cold, formal, and
embarrassing to both parties, while the two maidens stood on the eve of
departure, each labouring under her own peculiar difficulties. Virginia
felt as if all the adventures of the preceding night stood revealed to
her parents, without any of the justificatory motives which had
satisfied her own mind for embarking in them--while her attendant looked
to her as if she too was labouring under a weight of surreptitious
knowledge. Mrs. Fairfax was the only one of the party who preserved
self-possession enough to welcome their young friend, after so long an
absence, in intelligible language.
With the peculiar tact of the cultivated female mind she judiciously led
the conversation to such subjects of universal interest at the time, as
to induce her husband and the young Cavalier to forget their late
unpleasant difference, and Virginia to resume her seat at the table,
where she busied herself in helping the visiter to his breakfast. It was
singular enough too, as Virginia no doubt thought, that one of these
subjects should have direct reference to some personages who had so
lately and so intently occupied her own thoughts--namely the Roundheads
and Independents. Frank Beverly it seems had already blown abroad the
meeting of these persons in secret conclave, as mentioned in the first
chapter. The meal being concluded, Bacon again sprang upon his horse and
hurried forward to the portico of the Berkley Arms, in which were now
displayed no very equivocal evidences of loyalty, from the master of the
house and his numerous guests, who thronged its area upon his approach.
All the _elite_ of the Cavalier youth were there in a perfect throng.
No sooner had Bacon alighted and made his way into the throng, than the
tumultuous discussion of the youths was hushed into silence. This was
not so much owing to any sternness in the dignity of the youth as to the
peculiar nature of the discussion which was going on between Dudley and
Beverly, and their several partizans, at the very moment of his
entrance. The tumblers of julip were held in suspense, while heavy bets
were offered, and about to be taken, upon the disputed question whether
the very person who so suddenly appeared among them would be present at
the celebration. No sooner had he set foot on the premises, however,
than the fat landlord came waddling up, grasping the hand of our hero in
one of his own, while in the other he presented him with a goblet of the
national beverage.
"A pledge! a pledge!" now resounded from several quarters of the well
filled Tap. It may well be supposed that the suspected one had no very
great relish for julip after breakfast, but knowing the importance of
such trifles on an occasion like the present, and under all the peculiar
circumstances in which he was placed he took the cup, and elevating it,
said--"Here's to the merry king Charles, who shall be king but Charley."
"Bravely done," shouted the host--and "huzzah for Bacon," shouted his
own immediate partisans, many of whom belonged to a volunteer military
company of which he was the commander, and whom to see was the very
object of his visit to the Arms. Taking Dudley therefore by the arm, and
calling to others of the corps, he invited them to a private interview
in another apartment. As Bacon passed Frank Beverly a mutual but cold
salutation was exchanged--dignified and polite on the part of the
former, and cold, haughty and sneering on that of the latter--the
ungracious feeling not at all lessened, it is probable, by the pointed
exclusion of Beverly and his partisans from the private meeting just
alluded to.
Although this was Bacon's first appearance in public, since his abrupt
departure from the house of his friend and patron, it was not the first
visit he had paid to the hotel, where he and his partisans now held
their meeting. He had privately visited the landlord on the preceding
evening, previous to the adventures related in the last chapter, for
some purposes connected with the present meeting of his friends, but
which he was by no means willing should be generally known. At that
visit he was informed by the landlord of the mischievous plot laid by
his rival to deprive him of the pleasure of Virginia's hand during the
approaching festivities at the Mansion of the Governor, and his first
intention was to counteract their machinations. But so intensely had his
mind been engaged with the adventures of the preceding evening, that all
minor interests escaped his recollection. It was the object of his visit
on this morning, to remedy that oversight; but so cold and formal was
his reception by Mr. Fairfax, and so embarrassed was that of his
daughter, that he gave up the scheme for the present, leaving the house
with any thing but pleasant emotions. Indeed, from the various
combinations of parties and factions, he saw his own position becoming
hourly more embarrassing and difficult, and still more so from the
neutral position in which he was thrown--partly from the mystery
connected with his origin, and partly from his connexion with the
Recluse. But let the Independents on the one hand, and the Cavaliers on
the other, plot and counterplot as they might, his course was clearly
taken in his own mind. None of the doubts as to what cause he should
espouse, which had been hinted at by some of the personages of our
narrative, really existed in his mind. His course was plain, manly,
upright, and straight forward. Nevertheless, as has been seen, he had
not thus far entirely escaped suspicion. But trusting to the uprightness
of his intentions, he took his measures on this eventful morning with a
single eye to the public peace and the cause of truth, justice and
humanity. It was to promote these great ends, that he now assembled the
members of the military company of which he was the commander. Upon what
service they were to be engaged, will appear in the succeeding
chapters.