"How yet resolves the Governor of the town?
This is the latest parle we will admit.
If I begin the battery once again,
I will not leave the half achieved Harfleur,
Till in her ashes she lie buried."
_King Henry V._
And now was heard on the clear night air the shrill blast of a solitary
trumpet breathing defiance, and announcing to the besieged loyalists,
the presence of the insurgents before the walls of Jamestown. Exhausted
by their long march, and depressed by the still gloomy prospect before
them, the thinned ranks of the rebel army required all the encouraging
eloquence of their general, to urge them forward in their perilous duty.
Nor did they need it long. Drawing his wearied, but faithful followers
around him, the young and ardent enthusiast addressed them in language
like the following:
"SOLDIERS,"
"Animated by a desire to free your country from the incursions of a
savage foe, you have crowned your arms with victory and your lives
with honor. You have annihilated the Indian power in Virginia, and
in the waters of the brook which was the witness of your victory,
you have washed away the stains of its cruelty. The purple blood
which dyed that fatal stream, has even now passed away; Yet your
deeds shall survive in the name which you have given it. And future
generations, when they look upon its calm and unstained bosom, will
remember with grateful hearts, those brave men who have given
security to their homes, and will bless your patriot names when
they repeat the story of Bloody Run.
"For this you have been proclaimed traitors to your country and
rebels to your king. Traitors to a country within whose borders the
Indian war whoop has been hushed by your exertions! Rebels to your
king for preserving Virginia, the brightest jewel in his crown,
from inevitable ruin! But though you have accomplished much, much
yet remains undone. Then nerve your stout hearts and gird on your
armour once more for the contest. Though your enemies are not to be
despised, they are not to be feared. _They_ fight as mercenaries
uninspired by the cause which they have espoused. _You_ battle for
freedom, for honor and for life. Your freedom is threatened by the
oppressions of a relentless tyrant and a subservient Assembly. Your
honor is assailed, for you are publicly branded as traitors. Your
lives are proscribed by those who have basely charged your
patriotism as treason, and your defence of your country as
rebellion. Be not dismayed with the numbers of your foes. Think
only that it is yours to lessen them. Remember that Peace can never
come to you, though you woo it never so sweetly. You must go to it,
even though your way thither lay through a sea of blood. You will
find me ever where danger is thickest. I will share your peril now
and your reward hereafter."
Inspired with new ardour, by the words and still more by the example of
their leader, the soldiers proceeded to the task of constructing a
breastwork for their defence. Bacon himself at imminent risk to his
person, drew with his own hands the line for the entrenchment, while the
soldiers prepared for themselves a secure defence from attack by a
breastwork composed of felled trees, earth, and brushwood. It was a
noble sight, I ween, to see these hardy patriots of the olden time,
nearly sinking under fatigue, yet working cheerfully and ardently in the
cause of freedom--to hear their axes ringing merrily through the still
night air, and the tall forest trees falling with a heavy crash, as they
were preparing their rude fortifications; and to look up on the cold,
silent moon, as she watched them from her high path in heaven, and you
might almost think, smiled with cold disdain, to think that all their
hopes would be blasted, and their ardour checked by defeat, while she in
her pride of fulness would traverse that same high arch twelve hundred
times before the day-star of freedom dawned upon the land.
Meantime the besieged loyalists having heard with surprise and
consternation, the story of Mrs. Temple and Virginia, were completely
confounded. Fearing to fire a single gun, lest the ball intended for
their adversaries might pierce the heart of some innocent woman, they
were forced to await with impatience the completion of the works of the
insurgents. The latter had not the same reason for forbearance, and made
several successful sorties upon the palisades, which surrounded the
town, effecting several breaches, and killing some men, but without loss
to any their own party. Furious at the successful stratagems of the
rebels and fearing an accession to their number from the surrounding
country, Sir William Berkeley at length determined to make a sally from
the town, and test the strength and courage of his adversaries in an
open field. Bacon, meanwhile, having effected his object in securing a
sufficient fortification, with much courtesy dismissed the captive
ladies, who went, rejoicing at their liberation, to tell the story of
their wrongs to their loyal husbands.
The garrison of Jamestown consisting of about twenty cavalier loyalists,
and eight hundred raw, undisciplined recruits, picked up by Berkeley
during his stay in Accomac, were led on firmly towards the entrenchments
of the rebels, by Beverley and Ludwell, who stood high in the confidence
of the Governor, and in the esteem of the colony, as brave and
chivalrous men. Among the subordinate officers in the garrison was
Alfred Bernard, rejoicing in the commission of captain, but recently
conferred, and burning to distinguish himself in a contest against the
rebels. From their posts behind the entrenchment, the insurgents calmly
watched the approach of their foes. Undismayed by their numbers, nearly
four times as great as their own, they awaited patiently the signal of
their general to begin the attack. Bacon, on his part, with all the
ardour of his nature, possessed in an equal degree the coolness and
prudence of a great general, and was determined not to risk a fire,
until the enemy was sufficiently near to ensure heavy execution. When at
length the front line of the assailants advanced within sixty yards of
the entrenchment, he gave the word, which was obeyed with tremendous
effect, and then without leaving their posts, they prepared to renew
their fire. But it was not necessary. Despite the exhortations and
prayers of their gallant officers, the royal army, dismayed at the first
fire of the enemy, broke ranks and retreated, leaving their drum and
their dead upon the field. In vain did Ludwell exhort them, in the name
of the king, to return to the assault; in vain did the brave Beverley
implore them as Virginians and Englishmen not to desert their colors; in
vain did Alfred Bernard conjure them to retrieve the character of
soldiers and of men, and to avenge the cause of wronged and insulted
women upon the cowardly oppressors. Regardless alike of king, country or
the laws of gallantry, the soldiers ran like frightened sheep, from
their pursuers, nor stopped in their flight until once more safely
ensconced behind their batteries, and under the protection of the cannon
from the ships. The brave cavaliers looked aghast at this cowardly
defection, and stood for a moment irresolute, with the guns of the
insurgents bearing directly upon them. Bacon could easily have fired
upon them with certain effect, but with the magnanimity of a brave man,
he was struck with admiration for their dauntless courage, and with pity
for their helplessness. Nor was he by any means anxious to pursue them,
for he feared lest a victory so easily won, might be a stratagem of the
enemy, and that by venturing to pursue, he might fall into an ambuscade.
Contenting himself, therefore, with the advantage he had already gained,
he remained behind his entrenchment, determined to wait patiently for
the morrow, before he commenced another attack upon the town.