Our hero reached Jamestown late on the very morning when the couriers
arrived in such rapid succession, with the startling intelligence of the
Indian massacres. All night he had wandered over the peninsula, vainly
endeavouring to discover his way; light after light shot up amidst the
surrounding gloom, and more than once he had been misled by these,
almost into the very clutches of the swarming savages. His heart sank
within him as he saw plantation after plantation, in their complete
possession; the illumination of their incendiary trophies lighting up
the whole surrounding country. It seemed indeed to his startled senses
as if the Indians had simultaneously risen upon and butchered the whole
white population of the colony. With the exception of a small remnant,
they had already once perpetrated the like horrible deed, and he again
saw in his imagination the dreadful scenes of that well remembered
night. Feeble old men, women and children indiscriminately
butchered--perhaps Virginia, whom he once again dared to think of, among
the number. True, Wyanokee had assured him otherwise, but might not the
grand council have determined upon the deed at the more appropriate
time of their nightly meeting?
As the dawning day unfolded to his view the relative bearings of the
country, these gloomy anticipations were partly realized. Every avenue
to the city, both by land and water, was crowded with people of all
sexes, colours and conditions, flying to the protection of the Fort.
Wagons, carts, negroes, and white bondsmen, were laden with furniture,
provisions, and valuables. Ever and anon a foaming charger flew swiftly
by, bearing some Cavalier to the city, doubly armed for retributive
vengeance. By these he was greeted and cheered upon his way, as well as
informed of the depredations committed in the neighbourhood whence they
had come. From one of these also he procured a horse, and joined a
cavalcade of his associates and friends, proceeding to the same centre
of attraction. To them also he unfolded so much of his recent adventures
as related to the general interests of the colony. Long, loud, and
vindicative were their denunciations, as well of the treacherous savages
as the stubborn old man at the head of affairs in the colony.
Although evident traces of his late bodily sufferings were perceptible
in Bacon's countenance, no vestige of his mental hallucinations on one
particular theme was perceived; his mind was intently occupied upon the
all absorbing topic of common safety. As they proceeded together to the
city, it was proposed to him to assume the command of a volunteer
regiment, which they undertook to raise as soon as they arrived in
Jamestown. His military talents and daring bravery were already well
known by most of his associates, but he doubted whether he was the most
proper person in the colony to assume so responsible a command. As to
his own personal feelings, never did fortune throw the chance of
honourable warfare more opportunely in the way of a desperate man. True,
it would have come still more seasonably twenty-four hours sooner, but
then he would only have been better qualified for some desperate deed of
personal daring, not for a command upon which hung the immediate fate of
all the colonists, and the ultimate supremacy of the whites in Virginia.
He promised, however, to accede to their proposal, provided, after the
regiment was raised, in which he must be considered a volunteer, the
majority cheerfully tendered him their suffrages. He stated the
hostility of the Governor to him personally, without enlightening them
as to its most recent cause; but they were now as resolute upon
disregarding the feelings and wishes of Sir William, as he had already
shown himself in disregarding their own. In short, they resolved at once
to assume that authority to protect their lives and property, which they
now felt, if they had never before known, was an inalienable right. Here
was sown the first germ of the American revolution. Men have read the
able arguments--the thrilling declamations, the logical defence of
natural and primitive rights, which the men of '76 put forth to the
world, with wonder at the seeming intuitive wisdom that burst so
suddenly upon the world at the very exigency which called it into
action. But in our humble opinion, the inception of these noble
sentiments was of much earlier date--their development not so miraculous
as we would like to flatter ourselves. Exactly one hundred years before
the American revolution, there was a Virginian revolution based upon
precisely similar principles. The struggle commenced between the
representatives of the people and the representatives of the king. The
former had petitioned for redress, "time after time,"--remonstrance
after remonstrance had been sent in to Sir William Berkley, but he was
deaf to all their reasonable petitions. The Cavaliers and citizens of
the colony now arrived at the infant capital, resolved to take upon
themselves as much power as was necessary for the defence of life,
freedom, and property. While the gathering multitude flocked to the
State House and public square in immense numbers, Bacon alighted at the
Berkley Arms, in order to change his dress, and before he joined them,
perform one act of duty which it would have been difficult for him to
say whether it was anticipated with most pain or pleasure. It was a
visit to Mrs. Fairfax and her daughter. He walked immediately from the
hotel to the quarters usually occupied by the servants of the Fairfax
family, in hopes of finding O'Reily--to despatch for his effects, which
he supposed he could not obtain in person, without suddenly and
unpreparedly exposing himself to the notice of the family. But the house
was silent as the tomb! No gently curling smoke issued from the chimney;
no cheering light broke in at the windows; all was dark, noiseless, and
desolate. The domestic animals still lingered around their accustomed
haunts, apparently as sad in spirit as he who stood with his arms folded
gazing upon the deserted mansion. The streets were indeed crowded with
the eager and tumultuous throng, but after the first unsuccessful essay
at the door of the servant's hall, he had passed round into the garden
of the establishment, and stood as we have described him, a melancholy
spectator of the painful scene. There hung Virginia's bird cage against
the casings of the window, perhaps placed by her own hands on the
morning of the unfortunate catastrophe, but the little songster was
lying dead upon the floor. The blooming flowers around her windows hung
in the rich maturity of summer, but seemed to mock the desolation around
with their gay liveries. The dogs indeed lazily wagged their tails at
his presence, and fawned upon him, but they too, slunk away in
succession, as if conscious of the rupture which had taken place in his
relations with the family.
What a flood of tender recollections rushed upon his memory as he stood
thus solitary in the flower garden of her who was the sole object of his
youthful and romantic dreams, and gazed upon the well known
objects,--each one the memento of some childish sport or pleasure. There
too stood the shaded seats and bowers of more mature adventures,
redolent of the richest fruits and flowers, and teeming with the
hallowed recollection of love's young dream. Nor were tears wanting to
the memory of that early friend and patron who had given him shelter in
his helpless days, from the cold neglect and inhospitality of the world,
and thus, perhaps, saved him the degradation of a support at the public
expense. These softened and subdued emotions humanized the savage mood
which sprung up from similar reminiscences on a previous occasion. The
current of his feelings had been changed by a single ray of hope. The
fountain was not now wholly poisoned, and the sweet water turned to gall
and bitterness. The scene therefore, painful and melancholy as it was,
produced beneficial results. But he marvelled that the house should be
so totally deserted. He supposed that the lady and her daughter might be
sojourning for a time with the Governor, but what had become of their
numerous domestics? They too could not be quartered at the gubernatorial
mansion. And above all, what had become of his own Hibernian follower?
Certainly, he was not thus provided for. He knew his privileged
servant's warm partialities and hatreds too well to believe that he had
accepted any hospitality from his master's bitterest enemy. At that
moment a servant of the Berkley Arms was passing, and having called him
into the garden, Bacon raised a window leading to his own apartments,
procured such of his garments as he most needed, and despatched them to
the hotel. When he had encased himself in these, somewhat to his own
satisfaction (and most young Cavaliers in those days wore their garments
after a rakish fashion) he sallied out to perform the duty which he felt
to be most incumbent on him. He knocked at the door of Sir William
Berkley's mansion, with very different feelings from any he had before
experienced on a similar occasion. The relations so lately discovered to
exist between himself and those for whom his visit was intended, as well
as his feelings toward those who had the right of controlling in some
measure the persons admitted to visit at the mansion, awakened anxious
thoughts not little heightened by the anticipation of meeting Beverly,
with whom an unexpected interview promised few agreeable emotions. The
family seemed determined too that he should have the benefit of all
these reflections, from the length of time they kept him standing in the
street. At length the porter opened the door with many profound
inclinations of the head, still standing however full within the
entrance, and continuing his over wrought politeness. "Is Mrs. Fairfax
within?" was the inquiry.
"She is dead! may it please your honour!"
"Dead!" uttered Bacon with a hoarse and trembling voice. "When and how?"
"His Excellency has just received the news--she was murdered last night
at his country seat by the Indians."
"Was Miss----was his niece there also?" he asked with a bewildered doubt
whether he had better inquire any further.
"No, Sir, she lies ill of a fever up stairs. Dr. Roland scarcely ever
leaves her room, except to tell Master Frank the state of his patient."
"I will enter for a moment and speak a few words with the good doctor."
"Pardon me, your honour, it gives me great pain to refuse any gentleman
admittance, but my orders are positive from Sir William himself to admit
no one to the sick room, and above all not to admit your honour within
these doors. I have over and over again turned away Miss Harriet, who
seems as if she would weep her eyes out, poor lady, at my young
mistress' illness and the Governor's cruelty, as she calls it."
"I see you have a more tender heart than your master; here is gold for
you, not to bribe you against your duty or inclinations; but you will
fully earn it by informing Dr. Roland that Mr. Bacon wishes to speak
with him for five minutes at the Arms, upon business of the last
importance."
"I will tell him, sir; but I do not think he will go, because he has
himself given the strictest injunctions that your name shall not be
whispered in the room, or even in the house. No longer than this
morning, sir, she heard them announce the death of her mother down
stairs. Her hearing is indeed extraordinary, sir, considering her so
poorly. Since that she has been much worse."
Bacon did not choose to expose himself to the chance of insult any
longer by meeting some of the male members of the family, he therefore
took his departure from the inhospitable mansion, and skirted round the
unfrequented streets, in order to avoid the immense multitude collected
in the square and more frequented passages. He could hear the shouts and
cheering which echoed against the houses as he proceeded, but little did
he imagine that they welcomed his own nomination to the responsible
station of commander to the colonial forces. His intention was to
proceed to the Arms, and there await the arrival of the doctor; but he
no sooner entered the porch than he was seized by the hand in the well
known and sympathizing grasp of Dudley.
While the friends were yet uttering their words of greeting, and before
they had propounded one of the many questions which they desired to ask,
Bacon was seized under each arm with a rude, but not disrespectful
familiarity--saluted by the title of General, and borne off toward the
state house in spite alike of remonstrances and entreaties.
It was with great difficulty they could gain the square, so dense was
the barricade of ox carts loaded with furniture, and wagons thronged
with negro children; while families in carriages and on horseback, and
thousands of the multitude promiscuously huddled together, increased the
difficulty of making way. Since he had heard the startling news of the
death of Mrs. Fairfax, his mind was more than ever bent upon joining the
proposed expedition; and had it not been for the interruption to the
anticipated meeting with the Doctor, no one could have appeared upon the
rostrum with greater alacrity.
The contumaceous conduct of the Governor toward the respectful
remonstrances and petitions of the citizens, and more especially his
unwarranted and disrespectful treatment of himself, recurred to his mind
in good time. He mounted the rude platform hastily erected in front of
the state house, burning with indignation, and glowing with
patriotism.[2] "He thanked the people for the unexpected and unmerited
honour they had just conferred upon him. He accepted the office tendered
to him with alacrity, and none the less so that yonder stubborn old man
will not endorse it with his authority, and sanction our proceeding
under the ordinary forms of law. What has produced this simultaneous
explosion in the colony? What are the circumstances which can thus array
all the wealth, intelligence and respectability of the people against
the constituted authorities. Let your crippled commerce, your taxed,
overburdened and deeply wronged citizens answer? The first has been
embarrassed by acts of parliament, which originated here, the most
severe, arbitrary and unconstitutional, while your citizens both gentle
and hardy, have been enormously and indiscriminately taxed in order to
redeem your soil from the immense and illegal grants to unworthy and
sometimes non-resident favourites.
[Footnote 2: This is an abstract of the speech really delivered by
Bacon.]
"There was a time when both Cavalier and yeoman dared to be free; when
your assembly, boldly just to their constituents, scrupled not to
contend with majesty itself in defence of our national and chartered
rights. But melancholy is the contrast which Virginia at this time
presents. The right of suffrage which was coeval with the existence of
the colony, which had lived through the arbitrary reign of James, and
with a short interruption through that of the first Charles, which was
again revived during the commonwealth, and was considered too sacred to
be touched even by the impure hands of the Protector, is now
sacrilegiously stolen from you during a season of profound peace and
security.
"The mercenary soldiers, sent from the mother country at an immense
expense to each of you, fellow-citizens, where are they? Revelling upon
the fat of the land at distant and unthreatened posts, while our
fathers, and mothers, and brothers, and sisters, are butchered in cold
blood by the ruthless savage. Where is now the noble and generous
Fairfax, the favourite of the rich and the poor? Where his estimable and
benevolent lady? Murdered under the silent mouths of the rusty cannon
which surmount yonder palisade. Look at his sad and melancholy mansion,
once the scene of generous hospitality to you all--behold its deserted
halls and darkened windows. But this is only the nearest evidence before
our eyes--within the last twenty-four hours hundreds of worthy citizens
have shared the same fate.
"Shall these things be longer borne, fellow-citizens?"
"No! no! no!" burst from the multitude--"down with the Governor, and
extermination to the Indians."
He continued. "Already I see a noble band of mounted youths, the sons of
your pride and your hopes--flanked by a proud little army of hardier
citizens; from these I would ask a pledge, that they never lay down
their arms, till their grievances are redressed."--
"We swear--we swear," responded from all, and then, three cheers for
General Bacon, made the welkin ring. At this juncture the trumpet, drum,
and fife, were heard immediately behind the crowd, and a party of the
royal guard, some fifty in number, halted upon the outskirts of the
assemblage, while their officer undertook to read a proclamation from
the Governor, ordering the mob, as he was pleased to style the meeting,
to disperse under penalty of their lives and property. The _army of the
people_, already getting under arms, immediately commenced an evolution
by which the temporary commander of the mounted force would have been
thrown directly fronting the guard, and between them and the multitude.
Bacon saw the intended movement, and instantly countermanded the orders,
"Let the people," said he, "deal with this handful of soldiers; we will
not weaken our force, and waste our energies by engaging in intestine
broils, when our strength is so much called for by the enemies of our
race upon the frontiers." The suggestion was immediately adopted; before
the hireling band could bring their weapons to the charge, the multitude
had closed in upon them, and disarmed them to a man. This accomplished,
they were taken to the beach, in spite of the remonstrances of many of
the more staid and sober of the Cavaliers and citizens, and there
soundly ducked. Very unmilitary indeed was their appearance, as they
were marshalled into battle array, all drooping and wet, and thus
marched to the music of an ignominious tune to the front of the
Governor's house.
The frantic passion of Sir William Berkley can be more easily imagined
than described. He saw that he was left almost alone--that those
citizens most remarkable for their loyalty had deserted him. However
wilful and perverse, he saw the necessity of making temporary
concessions, although at the same time more than ever bent upon summary
vengeance against the most conspicuous leaders of the opposing party
whenever chance or fortune should again place the real power of the
colony in his hands. At present he felt that he was powerless--the very
means which he had taken to thwart and provoke the people now became
the source of the bitterest regret to himself, namely--sending the
mercenary soldiers of the crown to distant posts on fictitious
emergencies. He resolved therefore to disguise his real feelings until
the departure of the popular army, when he could recall his own regular
troops, and thus take signal vengeance upon such of the agitators as
should be left behind, and thence march immediately to the subjugation
of the force commanded by Bacon. Scarcely had the presence of the
dripping guard, as seen through his window, suggested these ideas,
before an opportunity offered of putting in practice his temporary
forbearance.
A committee was announced, at the head of which was Mr. Harrison, his
former friend and supporter--they were the bearers of a conciliatory
letter from General Bacon. In this letter the young commander in chief,
in accordance with the suggestions of the older Cavaliers, respectfully
announced his election to the command of the volunteer army, and
concluded by requesting the Governor to heal all existing breaches by
sanctioning his own appointment, as well as that of the appended list of
young Cavaliers, to the various stations annexed to their names; and
that no delay might occur in the pursuit of the enemy, an immediate
answer was requested. The stout old Cavalier was ready to burst with ill
suppressed rage as he marked the cool and respectful tone of this
epistle, coming from one he most cordially detested and despised, both
on public and private grounds.
The committee waited until he had penned his answer, which was cold and
formal, but polite. In it he declined signing the commissions in the
absence of the council, but promised to convene it early on the ensuing
day, when he stated that he would despatch a courier after the army, if
the council thought proper to approve of the popular proceedings. He
promised also to dismantle the distant forts, and immediately to call in
the foreign troops for the defence of the capital.
With this answer, the committee, he to whom it was addressed, and the
populace were well satisfied. It really promised more than they had
expected of the obstinate old Governor. Little did they dream of the
lurking treachery in the old man's heart, much less did they truly
interpret the equivocal language contained in the note itself,
concerning the foreign soldiers, and the defence of the capital. Little
did they imagine that they themselves were the foes against whom he
proposed to employ the mercenaries.
The army now took up its line of march across the bridge, amidst the
cheers and blessings of the multitude; men, women, and children
following them to the boundaries of the island.
Part of the force was sent up the river in sloops, in order to
co-operate with the main army in their design of driving the tribes
scattered along the water courses of the peninsula, to a common point
of defence, and thus forcing them, if possible, into an open, general,
and decisive engagement. The youthful commander in chief was intimately
acquainted with all the localities between the seat of government, and
the falls of the river, (where Richmond now stands,) and he very
ingeniously arranged his forces by land and water, so that he might at
the same time drive the treacherous enemy before him through the
peninsula, and avoiding a premature battle, concentrate the enemy at the
point already indicated. It was with this general view, that one part of
his force was now sent up the river, while the other pursued the route
between the Chickahominy and the Pamunky rivers. These general views
were discussed, and the plan decided upon at a council of war, held on
the main land, immediately after the troops had passed the bridge. Bacon
having imparted to Charles Dudley, his Aid-de-Camp, such orders as the
emergency required, turned his horse's head again toward the bridge, and
retraced his steps to Jamestown.