While Bacon and his partisans were deliberating in one of the upper
rooms of the Berkley Arms, and Beverly, Ludwell and their friends, still
kept up their potations in the Tap below, all of a sudden the bells
ceased to chime, and the cannons to roar, and the various other
demonstrations of noisy mirth that pervaded the city, were hushed into
silence. A corresponding stillness instantly prevailed throughout both
the assembled parties, for a moment, in order to ascertain if possible
the cause of this interruption to the public rejoicings. No one in
either being able to explain the matter, both parties at the same moment
rushed tumultuously into the street. They beheld men, women, and
children, thronging in the direction of the public square, and naturally
fell into the current, and were borne on its tide into the very centre
of attraction. Here they found several oxcarts standing in the street,
in the beds of which were stretched the dead bodies of eight
Indians--fearfully mangled, and one with his head entirely severed from
the body. Twenty voices at once were interrogating the gaping negroes
who bestrode the cattle, but no other satisfaction could be gained from
them than a mute reference to their master; a little busy important
man, who resided on the main land, and was now holding forth with great
energy and amplitude of expression, touching his various adventures of
the morning, to a crowd of eager loungers gathered around him, as if to
appropriate his wonderful disclosure entirely to themselves.
He stated that he had found the dead bodies upon the banks of the river,
where there were still many evidences of a desperate conflict of both
horse and foot. That the ground was covered with blood, and that one
party must have been driven into the river, and drowned, as he had been
enabled to trace them by their footmarks to the very edge of the water.
It will be readily imagined by the reader that Nathaniel Bacon was no
unmoved spectator of this scene, or of the various conjectural
explanations that were now given in his hearing, of a transaction in
which he had been such a principal actor, and of which he could have
given such an authentic history. He was rather rejoiced than otherwise,
that the little planter of the main seemed so much disposed to indulge
his imagination, as a discovery of his own part in the matter, and of
Virginia's delicate position on the occasion, was thereby rendered less
probable. But his self congratulations were too hasty; for scarcely had
he revolved these things in his mind, before a sudden rush of the crowd
towards some new object of surprise arrested his attention. This was no
other than Brian O'Reily, bearing into the crowd upon his back the dead
body of Jamie Jamieson, and followed by his wife, who to her bruises and
misfortunes had applied the comfort of whiskey in great profusion.
O'Reily, it seemed, had fully sympathised with the widowed lady, for his
motions were anything but accordant with the solemnity of the occasion.
Bacon could scarce suppress a smile as he caught a glimpse of this group
through the crowd. His first object; however, was to catch O'Reily's
eye, and make him understand, if possible by a look, that he was to
volunteer no evidence in the case. He had no sooner succeeded in gaining
the notice of his attendant, than the latter applied his finger slyly to
his lip, looking another way at the same time, and thus indicating that
he understood the policy to be pursued, and that he was not so much
intoxicated as he thought proper to seem. With this doubtful assurance
Bacon was compelled to rest satisfied, walking about the square all the
while in visible agitation.
The corpse of the fisherman being laid out in the market-place, the
officer, whose duty it was, proceeded to summon an inquest to inquire
into the manner and cause of his death. The first witness summoned
before this tribunal, was, of course, the wife of the deceased. She
testified that a party of savages had on the preceding night entered
their house, and after having cruelly murdered her husband, beaten
herself, and bound her limbs with cords, had carried away all their
fishing nets. That having placed these in a canoe, they laid her in it
also, and paddled across the river--where they were met by another party
of savages, about fifty in number, as she supposed, and while they were
busily engaged in dividing the spoil, a gigantic man, with a face
flaming like fire, and a sword as long as a fishing pole, had suddenly
fallen upon the murderers, and quickly put them to flight, or the sword.
That having thus conquered the whole horde, he had placed her in the
boat again, and brought her to her own house, where he left her, and
where she remained alone until morning, when she was found by Mr. Brian
O'Reily, who happened to be coming that way.
Improbable as some parts of this story were, it met with a ready
credence from nearly the whole of the multitude; no tale, having any
relation to the Recluse, being so marvellous that they would not readily
believe it. But in no one of the assembled listeners did it excite
greater surprise than in Bacon himself. It is true, that he readily
recognised in the whole invention the joint influence of whiskey, and
O'Reily's ingenuity, but even to these he had not supposed that he
should be indebted for such downright falsehoods in his behalf. Mrs.
Jamieson, too, seemed firmly to believe all that she had testified.
Under these circumstances he did not feel himself called upon to set the
matter right at the expense of Virginia's feelings, and the inevitable
defeat of the measures in which he was that very morning deeply
engaged. How the Irishman was to manage his part of the narrative when
called upon, as he certainly would be, and that so speedily that no time
would be allowed to exchange a word with his master, Bacon could not
divine. He knew right well that O'Reily was gifted with a strong
tendency to the most outrageous and even ridiculous exaggeration, and
that he would carry through whatever he should undertake to say, with
wonderful shrewdness and imperturbable confidence; but how he was to
make his story agree with that which he had put into the mouth of Mrs.
Jamieson, and at the same time explain the wound upon his own face, and
the contusion upon his head, without being guilty of some direct and
palpable falsehood, was more than his master could imagine. At length
Brian O'Reily was called to state what he knew touching the death of the
fisherman. The first question propounded by the officer was, "Well,
O'Reily, tell the jury how, and when you came to the house of the
deceased."
"Oh! thin, and I'm bothered to know whether I got there by land or
wather, and faix, I'm after b'leiven it was naither uv them."
"How then did you get there, if you went neither by land nor water?"
"An by the vestments, may be I wouldn't be far wrang, if I said it was
the crathur that took me there, seein I can't deny it iny way, your
haner."
"You saw no one strike or maltreat the deceased.".
"It would be but ill manners in me to be conthradictin your haner."
"You are sure you did not strike him yourself."
"As sure as two tin-pinnies--Divil burn the man that Brian O'Reily ever
ill used when he was down--much less when he was dead, your haner."
(crossing himself.)
"How then came that cut upon the corner of your mouth?"
"Oh! murther, and is it these your haner's axing after?" and he
ingeniously placed his finger upon a smaller wound made by his bottle on
the previous night. "Yes, O'Reily, we wish you to state how you came by
those wounds."
"Oh! but I'm bowld to show your haner, seein its you that axed me--sure
here's the wapon that kilt me all out!" and as he spoke, he pulled out
his broken necked bottle and handed it to his catechist.
"I see it has blood upon it, O'Reily, and this may explain the cut on
your mouth, but how came that contusion on your temple?"
"Be dad but I run aginst a good big shelaleigh, an it broke me head so
it did--sorra much head I had left at that same recknin, for the
crather."
"You ran against a club, O'Reily? Was it growing in the ground or was it
in the hands of an enemy?"
"It might be growin, your haner, or it might be in the hands of the
great inimy himself, for all that Brian O'Reily knows--sure your haner
isn't very particular in examinin the tixture of the timber that knocks
you down. It might be a door-post--or may be the gate of the foort--as
the thimber grows as thick here as paraties, and this gate was always
too small for me when I had a dhrap of the whiskey."
"You ran against the gate-post, or the facings of Jamieson's door,
then?"
"By the five crasses, an I've done that same many's the time--barrin
always that it would be ill manners in me to conthradict your haner if I
hadn't."
"You saw nothing then of the treacherous and thieving savages on the
night of Jamieson's murder?"
"Oh then but I'm puzzled now intirely. By the holy father, I saw a power
of sights on that same night. The whiskey was clane too strong for me. I
saw all sorts of yeller nagres and men widout shadows, and flamin
counthenances, and the fire sparklin from the very eyes of me, by the
same token. Divil a word of a lie's in that iny way."
"But you saw no person strike or maltreat this man who lies dead here?"
"Divil the one, your haner! Brian O'Reily's the boy that wouldn't see
foul-play to man nor baste. I never saw Jamie, till I saw him stretched
all out as you see him there."
"You do not know then but that you may have encountered the murderers in
your own drunken travels?"
"Faix and you may say that, your haner, widout a word of a lie in it; it
bothers me intirely to tell what I did see. And, by the five crasses, if
it wasn't for the wapon you've got in your hand--and poor Jamie that I
brought here on my back--and this thump upon my head, I should, say it
was all a dhrame clane out."
"Well, you may go, O'Reily. I believe you know little of what happened
to yourself or any one else last night."
"An that's thrue for you iny way; many thanks to your haner for your
kindness and civility," said O'Reily, as he left the crowd, slily
tipping a wink of triumph to his master.
Bacon certainly began to breathe more freely towards the conclusion, as
having edged in with the crowd, he heard O'Reily's ingenious parries of
the official's thrusts. But his trials were not yet over, for scarcely
had he followed his attendant with his eye out of the crowd, before Mr.
Fairfax stepped up to the officer and whispered something in his ear. In
a few moments after a deputy was seen leading Wyanokee into the
market-place--a look of the most profound dejection, still visible
through her fright, at being brought into the presence of such a
multitude.
She testified, that two of the Indians slain were her nearest kinsmen.
That the one with his head severed from the body, was old King Fisher;
and, upon examination, the blue feathers of his patronymic bird were
found still sticking in the matted tuft of hair upon his crown. She
farther stated that he was her father's only brother, and that another
of the slain was his son--the only two remaining male relatives she had
in the world. That all these savages were of the Chickahominy tribe; and
that there were not more than two hundred warriors, left of all that,
brave and powerful nation which had once thronged the banks of the
Chickahominy river. And here the little Indian maiden seemed almost
suffocated with overpowering emotions, as the memory of former days came
gushing over her heart. No tear relieved her swelling emotions, but ever
and anon she cast her eyes over the mangled bodies of her kinsmen, and
once or twice turned with looks more rapid and of darker meaning towards
Bacon. The general expression of her countenance; however, was one of
profound and overwhelming sadness. Her soul seemed fully capable of
realizing the melancholy destiny which awaited all the nations of the
aborigines then inhabiting the country, from the sea board to the blue
mountains,[2] and whose fiat was fast bearing her race from the loved
places which had known them so long. It was doubtless in her mind a poor
compensation for the destruction of her native tribe and their
contemporaries, that she herself had been reclaimed from the happy
ignorance of savage, to the more painful knowledge of civilized life.
[Footnote 2: The Indians possessed no knowledge of any of the tribes
beyond.]
She was asked if she knew of the visit of these unfortunate men on the
preceding night. Her eye furtively ran over the eager faces gathered
around, until it fell upon that of Bacon, when a momentary flash of some
internal impulse illumined her countenance. It might be vengeance, or
the hatred of unrequited passion--but let the cause be what it might, it
glimmered with a demoniacal fire but for an instant, and then, like the
expiring taper in the socket after its last flash, sunk for ever. The
sadness of past and coming years seemed concentrated in the despair of
are moment. She waived her hand and shook her head in silence, thus
indicating, that she could say no more--that human endurance had been
stretched to its utmost verge. Walking deliberately out of the crowd
until she came to the trunkless head of the last of the Chickahominy
chiefs, she bent over the mutilated remains for a moment in unutterable
sorrow, and then throwing her eyes to heaven, dark in despair, she
stooped to pluck one of the blue feathers from the scalp, and then with
sad and lingering steps, proceeded to her home.
All were impressed with involuntary respect for the bereaved maiden, and
even the hardened officer suffered her to depart without having finished
his examination. Sufficient, however, had been gleaned for the jury to
bring in a verdict of murder by the hands of some of the Chickahominy
tribe of savages. This tribe of Indians inhabited a small town called
Orapacks, on the banks of the river which gave its name to the nation.
They formed a part of the grand confederation which had first been
united under Powhatan, and afterwards his successor, Opechancanough; the
latter of whom so unfortunately fell, while a prisoner at Jamestown, by
the hands of a dastardly soldier, who took his life in revenge for some
petty wrong, real or imaginary. The depredation related in the foregoing
pages, and the unfortunate result to so many of its perpetrators, was
the first interruption to the general peace which Sir William Berkley
had been enabled to secure for the colony, after various sanguinary
massacres and conflicts, with the numerous tribes composing the empire
of Virginia, as it was sometimes called, and reaching from the Peninsula
to the present seat of Richmond.
It may be well, perhaps, to state that a process had been despatched,
for form's sake, to summon the Recluse, but it was returned as similar
messages had always been before--he was _non est inventus_.
The dead bodies were now removed,--that of Jamieson to the more
consecrated ground around the church, and those of the Indians to a sort
of Potter's-field or general burying ground, such as every city has
possessed from the time of Judas Iscariot to the present day.
The necessary and justifiable sacrifice of some half a dozen savages
was, at that time, too common a circumstance in Jamestown, long to
affect the gayeties-of-the day. Accordingly the afternoon found the
daughters and wives of the hardy citizens gayly tripping it over the
green common, to which we have already introduced the reader, inspired
by the music of two sable musicians, who rattled and scraped defiance to
all untoward interruptions whatsoever. The town was full of strangers
from the neighbouring plantations, together with many members of the
House of Burgesses from surrounding counties, who had arrived in
preparation for the meeting of that body, summoned to be held on the
third succeeding day. Many of these dignified personages had collected
on the green, to witness the enjoyment of the humbler citizens and their
wives and daughters.
A merry set of joyful lads and lasses were whirling through the giddy
dance; when all at once a savage yell abruptly struck upon the ear; the
music ceased, the youths stood still in the circle, while some of the
maidens fled toward the public square, and others sought the protection
of their fathers, husbands, or lovers. Consternation was visible in the
boldest countenances. The transactions of the morning had unstrung the
nerves of the females, and urged the sterner sex to thoughts of war,
which had lain dormant since the general peace and the death of
Opechancanough. But soon a jingle of little bells was heard, and the
next moment the multitude burst into a loud laugh, and simultaneously
cast their eyes up to a tall tree which overhung the green, and upon
which was seen a painted savage, descending with great agility, he soon
leaped into the middle of the area, where the dance had been in
progress, and commenced shuffling away at a most indefatigable rate, the
fiddlers striking at the same moment into the humour of this strange
visiter, and he himself dexterously rattling a number of little bones
which he held between his fingers--the bells all the while continuing to
jingle, and producing the strangest effect upon the ear. His face was
painted in the ordinary warrior guise, his head shaved close to the
cranium, save a lock upon the crown, to which hung a tuft of scarlet
feathers--his person was grotesquely ornamented with beads, bells and
buttons in great profusion, interspersed with hundreds of red feathers,
from which he took his name. He was called Red Feather Jack, and was
remarkably fond of the music and all the ordinary diversions of the
whites. In this respect he was the most remarkable Indian of his
day--that race having been peculiar for the haughty and dignified
contempt with which they looked upon the amusements of their civilized
neighbours. He was known to be as desperate in battle as he was light
hearted and merry at the sports of the white man, and had never been
known guilty of any kind of treachery, and was a universal favourite at
Jamestown among all the young people of both sexes. It may be readily
imagined, therefore, that a shout of "Red Feather Jack," which was
instantly raised by the assembled throng, brought no slight accession to
their numbers. The amusement thus afforded was kept up, intermingled
with dances of their own, to which Jack beat time with his loudest
bells, until the hour had arrived for the commencement of the more
imposing and aristocratic ceremonies and amusements at the gubernatorial
mansion.
Red Feather Jack was believed by many to be an admirer of Wyanokee's,
though of a different tribe. He had once, on an occasion nearly similar
to the one just related, offered to lead her to the dance, but the more
refined maiden looked upon him with ineffable scorn and contempt,
produced as much, doubtless, by his undignified and unnational habits,
as by what she considered his inferior rank and understanding. After the
cessation of the various sports upon the green--in the warehouse, and
throughout the town, Jack was taken to the Berkley Arms, where his merry
performances were kept up until a late hour of the night, to the great
amusement of the loungers and the disappointed youths who had vainly
aspired to a participation in the celebration of the Cavaliers.
There was one peculiar circumstance attending this day's celebration
which became generally the subject of after remark. Not a sign of
festivity or rejoicing was visible at the Cross Keys. Its master sat a
solitary spectator in his own door, apparently regarding the passing
levities with sovereign contempt. This of course did not escape without
many comments from the more jovial landlord of "the Arms." It was
likewise remarkable that none of the Independents were visible on this
general holyday, and this was the more singular as many of the humbler
followers of the late Lord Protector had been sold into temporary
bondage, and of course might be supposed eager to enjoy one day's
cessation from labour, even if they did not care to join the humbler
citizens in their demonstrations of loyalty.