Dorothy_, the _Rebecca_, commanded by Captain Larrimore, and another
_Rebecca_, commanded by Captain Eveling. On August 1 Giles Bland and
William Carver, the latter "an able mariner and soldier," rowed out to
Larrimore's ship, and though fired on, captured her. They then drew
her up at Jamestown and mounted several guns on her from the fort. In
the meanwhile Bacon, thinking Berkeley might be aboard Eveling's
vessel, demanded permission to search her. But Eveling refused,
calling him a rebel and naming him "Oliver Bacon", and before
Larrimore's vessel could attack him, weighed anchor, slipped down the
river, and headed for England.
Though disappointed at Eveling's escape Bland and Carver, with the
_Rebecca_, a small bark, and a sloop, carrying a force of two hundred
and fifty men, stationed themselves at the mouth of the James, ready
to seize and to press into service any incoming vessels. But they made
the mistake of moving across the bay and anchoring off Accomac to
treat with the governor. Carver, with 160 men, came ashore in a
pinnace. Berkeley tried to persuade him to desert Bacon, but he
replied that "if he served the devil he would be true to his trust."
Berkeley ordered him to be gone within eight hours, but contrary winds
sprang up so that he had to delay. This Berkeley thought Carver was
glad of, since it gave him an opportunity to wean his soldiers away
from him. But it proved a godsend for Berkeley. At about midnight a
message came to him from Captain Larrimore, explaining that he and his
crew served under duress, that there were only forty soldiers left on
board the _Rebecca_, and that if he could send thirty or forty
gentlemen to the ship, he was sure they, with the help of the sailors,
could retake her.
So Philip Ludwell with two boats went out under cover of darkness. As
they approached the ship the soldiers on deck hesitated to fire on
them, thinking they were coming at Carver's invitation. So they drew
up alongside and clambered in through the gunroom ports. As they
rushed up on deck they were joined by the sailors with handspikes, and
together they soon forced the soldiers to surrender. In the meanwhile
Carver too was approaching, and hearing the shouts, tried to veer
away. But Larrimore trained his guns on him and captured him and all
his men. Coming on board he "stormed, tore his hair off and cursed,"
as well he might for he knew that he would soon be on the way to the
gallows. This was a major victory, for it gave the governor control of
the water. From now on he was safe from any attempt to invade the
Eastern Shore. On the other hand, he could at will strike at any point
up the great Virginia rivers.
While these events were taking place Bacon was leading an army through
the woods and swamps of upper Gloucester and Middlesex. He had good
reason to believe that it was the Pamunkeys who had made some recent
incursions, and he was determined to ferret them out. But it proved a
difficult task. His men, tired of wandering here and there, soaked by
drenching rains, and half-starved, began to waver. But their dauntless
young leader, after permitting many to return, resumed the search with
the rest.
They had gone but a few miles when they came upon an Indian village,
protected on three sides by swamps, and on the other by thickets and
bushes. As the English charged the terrified Indians fled. Many were
shot down, many others captured. The queen of the Pamunkeys escaped,
and wandered through the woods for days, half starved. Bacon led his
men back in triumph, bringing forty-five prisoners, and stores of
wampum, skins, furs, and English goods.
But having broken the power of the Pamunkeys, Bacon had now to meet
forces raised by the governor. Soon after the capture of the _Rebecca_
Captain Gardiner joined the little fleet with the _Adam and Eve_. So
Berkeley, embarking 200 men on the ships and on six or seven sloops,
crossed over to the Western Shore where another hundred joined them.
Then they sailed up the James to Jamestown. Bacon's garrison, perhaps
fearing the guns on the ships and thinking themselves outnumbered,
fled in the night without firing a shot.
Bacon received this news calmly, though Berkeley declared that "he
swore one thousand of his usual execrable oaths." At the time he had
but one hundred and thirty-six tired and hungry men with him. But he
was determined to lead them to the attack. "Gentlemen and fellow
soldiers, how am I transported with gladness to find you thus
unanimous, bold and daring, brave and gallant!" he said. "You have the
victory before you fight, the conquest before the battle.... I know
you have the prayers and well-wishes of all the people of Virginia,
while the others are loaded with their curses."
Of this they had abundant evidence, for as they trudged along the
people brought out "fruits and victuals," shouted encouragement, and
denounced the governor. There was a brief stop in New Kent while
recruits came in, before they set off for James City County. There the
youthful leader delivered another address to his men: "If ever you
have fought well and bravely, you must do so now.... They call us
rebels and traitors, but we will see whether their courage is as great
as their pretended loyalty. Come on, my hearts of gold, he who dies in
the field of battle dies in the bed of honor."
When Bacon arrived before Jamestown the place seemed impregnable. The
narrow isthmus which was the only approach to the town was defended by
three heavy guns, the ships in the river were ready to give support,
the Back Creek and a series of marshes protected the north shore. But
Bacon was not discouraged. All night long his men labored to throw up
a makeshift fortress of "trees, bush and earth" facing the isthmus, as
a protection should Berkeley's force sally out. When the governor saw
what was going on he ordered the ships and shallops to move up to fire
on the crude structure, while his soldiers let loose with repeated
volleys. Thereupon Bacon sent out parties of horse through the
adjacent plantations to bring in the wives of some of the governor's
supporters, Elizabeth Page, Angelica Bray, Anna Ballard, Frances
Thorpe and even Elizabeth Bacon, wife of his cousin, Nathaniel Bacon,
Senior. The terrified ladies were placed upon the ramparts, where they
would be in great peril should the firing be resumed, and kept there
until Bacon had completed the work and mounted his guns.
It was on September 15, that Berkeley's troops sallied out, formed in
front of Bacon's fort, and rushed forward, horse and foot "pressing
very close upon one another's shoulders." They made an excellent
target, so that when the rebels opened on them, those in front threw
down their arms and fled. Had Bacon pressed close on their heels he
might have taken the place, and with it Berkeley, and all his men. But
he held back and the opportunity was lost.
The governor was furious, and reviled his officers in "passionate
terms." But it should have been obvious to him that he could not trust
men who fought under compulsion, many of them in sympathy with Bacon.
"The common soldiers mutinied, and the officers did not do their whole
duty to suppress them," he wrote afterwards. The officers urged on him
the necessity of abandoning the town. "One night having rode from
guard to guard and from quarter to quarter all day long to encourage
the men, I went to bed," Berkeley said. "I was no sooner lain down but
there came three or four of the chief officers and told me I must
presently rise and go to the ships for the soldiers were all mutinying
... and that 200 or 300 men were landed at the back of us." But when
he put on his clothes, mounted his horse, and rode to the spot they
had indicated, he found the report false.
The next day the officers again urged the evacuation of the place. But
the governor demurred, "desiring them with all passionate earnestness
to keep the town ... I told them I could neither answer this to the
King nor to any man that ever was a soldier, unless they gave under
their hands the necessity of my dishonorable quitting the place." This
they immediately did and then hurried him away to the fleet. That
night guns were spiked, arms and stores were taken on board the
vessels, and the soldiers were embarked. Then silently the little
fleet slipped down the river.
The next morning Bacon's men occupied the town. But now he was
uncertain as to what he should do with it. News had come that Giles
Brent, a former supporter of Bacon who had gone over to the governor,
had raised an army in the northern counties and was marching south to
attack him. Brent, who was half Indian, was a sacrilegious man who was
said to have drunk the devil's health, at the same time firing his
pistol "to give the devil a gun." His advance put Bacon in a
quandary. If he remained in Jamestown, he would be trapped between
Brent on land and Berkeley's fleet by water. If he deserted the town,
Berkeley would return and occupy it. In the end, he, Lawrence,
Drummond, and the others decided to burn the town.
A few minutes later the village was a mass of flames. Lawrence applied
the torch to his own house, Drummond to his, and Bacon to the church.
They "burnt five houses of mine," reported Berkeley, "and twenty of
other gentlemen." It was a desperate deed of determined men, a deed
which foreshadowed the burning of Norfolk by patriots in the American
Revolution a century later to prevent the British from using it as a
base of operations.
Turning his back on the ruins of Jamestown, Bacon led his men first to
Green Spring, then to the site of Yorktown, and crossing the York
River made his headquarters at the residence of Colonel Augustine
Warner, in Gloucester. But when word came that Brent's forces were
approaching, he wheeled his veterans into line, the "drums thundered
out the march," and away they went to meet him. But there was no
battle. Brent's men, many of them probably indentured workers who had
been forced into service, had no wish to risk their lives for the
governor. So, when they heard that Bacon's force was on the march,
they refused to fight, deserted their officers, and returned home.
Now that once more Bacon was in possession of all Virginia except the
Eastern Shore, his chief concern was the redcoats, whose arrival was
reported to be close at hand. Would the people support him in opposing
them? So he summoned the Gloucester trained bands and asked them to
take an oath to stand by him, fight the English troops, and if they
found that they could not defend themselves, their lives, and
liberties, to desert the colony.
At this the Gloucester men balked. To fight the King's troops was to
defy the might of England. So they asked to be permitted to remain
neutral. Deeply disappointed, Bacon reproved them as the worst of
sinners who were willing to be saved by others but would not do their
part. Then he dismissed them. When he was told that the Reverend James
Wadding had tried to dissuade the people from subscribing, he had him
arrested. "It is your place to preach in church, not in camps," he
said.
Persuasion having failed, Bacon took sterner measures. Setting up a
court-martial, he put some of his opponents on trial. But though
Berkeley scorned his proposal that they be exchanged for Carver and
Bland, none was executed save one deserter. But the trials served
their purpose, for when he summoned the militia again they all
subscribed to his oath.
Bacon now turned his attention to the Eastern Shore. He realized that
so long as Berkeley had there a base of operations, from which he
could launch sudden attacks, his position was insecure. So he sent
Captain George Farloe, "one of Cromwell's men," with forty soldiers
across the bay to surprise and capture Berkeley. But it was not easy
to cross so large a body of water in small boats, and Farloe was taken
and hanged. Equally futile was a manifesto to the people of the
Eastern Shore urging them to rise against the governor.
Bacon gave orders that the estates of the governor and his friends be
ransacked for the use of his army, and Green Spring, King's Creek,
Warner Hall, and other places, were denuded of their cattle, sheep,
hogs, Indian corn, and even blankets and clothing. But when the rough
soldiers began to plunder friend and foe alike Bacon called a halt.
And instead of hanging every enemy who fell into his hands in
retaliation for Berkeley's executions, he released some without
bringing them to trial and pardoned others who had been condemned.
To see that his orders were carried out he now planned, probably on
the advice of Lawrence and Drummond, to appoint three committees, one
"for settling the south side of James River," another to accompany the
army "to inquire into the cause of all seizures," and the third to
manage the Indian war. To prevent raids by the enemy from the Eastern
Shore Bacon ordered the banks of the great rivers "to be guarded all
along, to observe their motion, and as they moved to follow them and
prevent them from landing or having any provisions sent on board
them."
But for the daring young commander the end was at hand. "Before he
could arrive at the perfection of his plans providence did that which
no other hand durst do." While at his headquarters in the house of
Major Thomas Pate, in Gloucester, a few miles east of West Point, he
became ill of dysentery. Bacon's enemies accused him of being an
atheist, but in his last hours he called in Mr. Wadding to prepare his
mind for death. "He died much dissatisfied in mind," we are told,
"inquiring ever and anon after the arrival of the frigates and
soldiers from England, and asking if the guards were strong about the
house." He died October 26, 1676.
Bacon's enemies made much of the fact that he was so infected with
lice that his shirts had to be burned, and because of it spoke of his
death as infamous. But the lice probably had nothing to do with it,
since typhus seems to have been almost unknown in early America. On
the other hand, dysentery was fairly common. Bacon's body has never
been found. Thomas Mathews tells us that Berkeley wished to hang it on
a gibbet, but on exhuming his casket he found in it nothing but
stones. It was supposed that the faithful Lawrence, probably in the
dark of night, had buried the body in some secret place.
Berkeley gloated over his arch enemy's death. "His usual oath which he
swore at least a thousand times a day was 'God damn my blood,'" he
wrote, "and God so infected his blood that it bred lice in an
incredible number, so that for twenty days he never washed his shirts
but burned them. To this God added the bloody flux, and an honest
minister wrote this epitaph on him:
'Bacon is dead, I am sorry at my heart
That lice and flux should take the hangman's part'."
But while his enemies scoffed, Bacon's followers mourned. One of them
expressed their sorrow and despair in excellent verse:
"Death why so cruel! What, no other way
To manifest thy spleene, but thus to slay
Our hopes of safety, liberty, our all
Which, through thy tyranny, with him must fall
To its late chaos? Had thy rigid force
Been dealt by retail, and not thus in gross,
Grief had been silent: Now we must complain
Since thou, in him, hast more than thousand slain...."
What, we may ask, should be Bacon's place in history? Is he to be
looked upon only as a rash young man, whose ambition and insistence on
having his own way brought disaster to the colony and death to many
brave men? Or should he be regarded as a martyr to the cause of
liberty? That Bacon was precipitate, that his judgement was faulty at
times there can be no doubt. But that he fought to put an end to
Berkeley's "French despotism", to restore true representative
government in the colony, to break the power of the group of parasites
who surrounded the governor, to end unjust and excessive taxes, to
make local government more democratic, is obvious. He said so
repeatedly. When Bacon and his men said they had enough English blood
in their veins not to be murdered in their beds by the Indians, they
might have added that they had enough English blood not to remain
passive while a despotic old governor robbed them of their liberty.
When Bacon's enemies tried to cast opprobrium upon him by calling him
the Oliver Cromwell of Virginia, they did not realize that future
generations would consider this an unintentional tribute. Certainly he
must have been a man of great magnetism, power of persuasion, and
sincerity, a man who had a cause to plead, who could arouse the
devotion of so many thousands. But it was true, as one sorrowing
follower wrote, that
"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 praises to posterity."
[Illustration: SIR WILLIAM BERKELEY
From the Original Portrait by an Unknown Artist, now in the
possession of Maurice du Pont Lee, Greenwich. Connecticut.
Canvas measures 49-½ x 40-½ inches.
From Alexander W. Weddell, Virginia Historical Portraiture.
Courtesy Virginia State Chamber of Commerce]
[Illustration: Photo by Flournoy, Virginia State Chamber of
Commerce
Bacon's Castle]
Bacon's death left the rebels without a leader. Berkeley stated that
they would have made Bland their general had he not been his prisoner.
What was needed was a man with experience in both military and
governmental affairs. Had either Lawrence or Drummond been soldiers
one or the other might have been chosen, but apparently neither had
ever borne arms. So the army elected Joseph Ingram, who had been
second in command under Bacon. Colonel Nicholas Spencer called him "a
debauched young man, who this year came to Virginia, and said to be a
saddler in England."
Ingram never had the full confidence of his men. He seems to have had
some ability as a general, but he was unequal to the task of
maintaining order and uniting the distracted colony. Berkeley said
that he continued the other officers, but that they "soon disagreed
amongst themselves, mistrusting each other."
His task was difficult. If he divided his forces to protect every
exposed place along the river banks they might be overwhelmed one by
one. It might have been wise for him to carry out Bacon's plan for a
flying body of cavalry centered at West Point, within striking
distance of the south bank of the Rappahannock, both banks of the
York, and the north bank of the James. This would not have prevented
night raids by Berkeley's men, but it would have protected the heart
of the colony from serious invasion. But Ingram was faced with the
problem of feeding his men. The rivers had always been the chief means
of communication, but now barges or sloops bringing grain or meat
might be intercepted by the _Adam and Eve_, or the _Rebecca_, or the
newly arrived warship, the _Concord_. And there was a limit to what
could be had by plundering the neighboring plantations.
So Ingram adopted the plan of keeping his main force at the head of
the York, and establishing small garrisons at selected points. On the
south side of the James he posted a "considerable number" of resolute
men in the residence of Major Arthur Allen, known today as Bacon's
Castle. At the governor's residence at Green Spring he left about one
hundred men under Captain Drew, who guarded the north bank of the
James and made away with what was left of Berkeley's cattle, sheep,
and grain.
On the south side of the York Major Thomas Whaley, "a stout ignorant
fellow", was in command at King's Creek, the estate of Councillor
Bacon, while lower down Captain Thomas Hansford, a man of the highest
character, was stationed at the site of Yorktown. Across the river
another group fortified Mr. William Howard's house, while in
Westmoreland still another made their headquarters at the residence of
Colonel John Washington.
Hansford, Whaley, Gregory Wakelett, and other officers were men of
ability, who could be trusted to remain firm in the cause for which
they took up arms. But after Bacon's death the rank and file were
filled up partly with slaves and indentured workers, who had little
interest in either the Indian war or in curbing the governor's
despotism. The garrison at Colonel West's house, near West Point,
consisted of about 400 men, of whom eighty were Negroes, and many
others were servants. What they wanted was their freedom. But among
them there must have been some of Bacon's veterans, for they continued
to fight well.
But now the policy of dividing the army into isolated garrisons began
to bear bitter fruit. In November, Major Robert Beverley crossed the
bay with a strong force in a fleet of transports, entered the York
river, and surprised the men at the site of Yorktown. Hansford was
captured. A few days later Beverley returned to the York and after a
brief encounter captured Major Edmund Cheeseman and Captain Thomas
Wilford.
Berkeley now began a series of executions marked by a brutality
unsurpassed in American history. One may excuse the tortures inflicted
by the Indians because they were savages. There can be no excuse for
an Englishman of culture and gentle birth. Extremely avaricious, he
had seen the accumulation of a lifetime taken from him; proud of his
ability as a ruler, he had seen his government overthrown and had been
forced to take refuge in an inaccessible corner of the colony;
revering, almost idolizing, the King, he must now explain to him his
failures. So his vindictiveness against the men he held responsible
knew no bounds.
His first victim was Hansford. When he was condemned by Berkeley's
council of war, he pleaded that he might be shot like a soldier not
hanged like a dog. "But you are not condemned as a soldier, but as a
rebel taken in arms," he was told. As he stood on the scaffold he
spoke to the crowd, protesting "that he died a loyal subject and a
lover of his country."
When Major Cheeseman was brought in, Berkeley sternly asked him why he
had joined the rebels. But as he was about to reply his wife rushed in
and told the governor that it was she who had urged him to take up
arms, and pleaded that she might be hanged in his place. Though the
governor knew that what she said "was near the truth," he spurned her
with a vile insult. Yet he was cheated of his revenge, for Cheeseman
died in prison, and so escaped the ignominy of the gallows.
When Farloe was brought to trial he pointed out that he held a
commission to serve under Bacon signed by Berkeley himself. But this
did not save him. The court told him he had been authorized only to
fight the Indians, not to take up arms against the governor. "Be
silent, while sentence is pronounced on you." The executions of
Hansford, Carver, Farloe, Wilford, and John Johnson, "a stirrer up of
the people but no fighter," brought to an end the hangings on the
Eastern Shore.
Word now reached Berkeley that Major Lawrence Smith had raised the
loyal standard in Gloucester, and had assembled a force so large that
they could have "beaten all the rebels in the country only with their
axes and hoes." In nearby Middlesex another large force was ready to
cooperate with him. This seemed the opportunity to crush the
rebellion. So the governor embarked 100 men on four ships and several
sloops and entered the York river to close in on Ingram from the south
while the others attacked from the north and east. But the plan failed
miserably.
Ingram met the Middlesex threat by sending Gregory Wakelett out with a
body of horse. But when he arrived he found that the enemy had
dispersed. Nor were Smith's loyalists more resolute. As they faced
Ingram's force a certain Major Bristow stepped out of the ranks and
offered to try the justice of the governor's cause after the manner of
the Middle Ages by single combat. Ingram himself would have accepted
the challenge, but his men caught him by the arm and pulled him back.
As it turned out there was no battle, for the rank and file of the
so-called loyal forces tamely laid down their arms and went home.
A raid on the right bank of the York also ended in failure. Berkeley
decided to send Captain Hubert Farrill with a strong force to surprise
the garrison at King's Creek. It was planned to drive in the sentries
and to "enter pell mell with them into the house." But they were met
by such a deadly fire that they fell back under the shelter of the
outbuildings, and then fled to their boats. Farrill was left dead, his
commission "dropping wet with blood in his pocket."