Amid all his misfortunes and gloomy anticipations, Bacon discovered one
bright spot in his horizon. He had inquired of Captain Gardiner whether
Mr. Beverly had accompanied the Governor to Accomac, and was answered in
the affirmative. This was the source of rejoicing, because he believed
that Virginia was yet in Jamestown. Harriet Harrison's letter had been
perused over and over again, during the first part of the voyage, and
was one cause of that restless anxiety to escape which we have attempted
to describe.
He chafed the more as his imagination pictured his rival leading, or
rather forcing Virginia to the altar, while he was thus ignobly
detained. But now having satisfied himself that Beverly was not left
behind, his mind was comparatively at ease on that score. Nevertheless
his desire to escape was not diminished; the state of parties might
change in the capital--Beverly might return and perpetrate his design
while he was yet in confinement. That Sir William Berkley intended more
than to keep him in temporary duress, he could not now in his cooler
moments believe--his repinings were caused by the interruption to his
own cherished schemes and ardent desires. He had hoped before this
time, to be in Jamestown--a conqueror--the accepted lover of Virginia
Fairfax, and to satisfy the Recluse himself, that he was deceived as to
his birth and parentage. That there was some mysterious knowledge of
Mrs. Fairfax's history possessed by that strange man, he doubted not;
but he doubted as little that it had led to error with regard to
himself.
The dark shadows of night had already closed over the broad expanse of
waters on whose bosom our hero was thus far borne without chance of
escape. He could discern numerous lights flitting along the
circumscribed horizon, which he supposed to be upon the shores of
Accomac, from the dark curtain which skirted along as far as the eye
could reach, between the sky and the water. He was not left long in
doubt upon this point, for the sailors were busily engaged furling the
broad sheets of canvass and heaving over the anchor. In a few moments a
bright flash illuminated the darkness around, followed by the booming
sound of a piece of ordnance let off from the ship. This was answered by
another from the shore, and Bacon perceived the lights which had before
attracted his attention, moving, as he supposed, toward the boat
landing, there being no facilities for running the ship close in upon
the land. These he could perceive now rising and falling with the
swelling and receding waves, and very soon faintly distinguished voices
in confused murmurs as they were borne along the water, and lost amidst
the roar of the waves lashing against the sides of the vessel, and the
confused noise and merriment of the ship's crew.
Captain Gardiner took up his trumpet and hailed the approaching boat,
after which a dead silence ensued on board, all hands listening intently
for the expected answer. Hoarse and confused sounds came sweeping on the
wind, as if the person answering spoke through his hand instead of a
trumpet, but no distinct words could be made out. Again the captain
hailed, "boat ahoy," and again with the like result. The wind was
unfavourable for the transmission of sound, and he gave up the attempt.
He had scarcely left the deck, however, before the boat came riding by
on the buoyant waves, both parties having been deceived as to the
distance, by their inability to intercommunicate. The Captain ran
eagerly upon deck, and inquired of those in the boat, whether the
Governor had arrived? The answer was in the affirmative. Bacon now
understood the anxiety of Captain Gardiner to communicate with the
shore. He learned too, from the dialogue going on, that the Governor and
himself were probably crossing the bay at the same time.
When it was announced to the boat's crew that the rebel chief, Bacon,
was a prisoner on board, a loud huzza burst simultaneously from twenty
voices, among which Bacon distinctly recognised those of Ludwell and
Beverly. Bitter indeed were his unavailing regrets that he had left his
army, and thus fallen a prey to his most violent enemies. He now
remembered, with not less regret, that he had strictly enjoined upon his
temporary successor, not to march into Jamestown until he should rejoin
the troops. This he saw would effectually prevent his present situation
from becoming known to his friends, until, possibly it would be too late
to render him any assistance.
The boat very soon returned in order to ascertain the Governor's
pleasure with regard to his prisoner, and Bacon waited with the most
intense anxiety for their return. His unavailing regrets were rapidly
forgotten in a fierce and burning desire to be confronted with his
enemies, alone and unsupported as he was. His noble mind could scarcely
conceive of that malignity which could trample upon a solitary and
defenceless individual, placed by accident in the hands of numerous
personal enemies. He had yet to learn a bitter lesson in the study of
human nature. His own impulses were all high and generous, and he
naturally looked even upon his foes as to some extent capable of the
like magnanimity. He imagined that Sir William Berkley, Ludwell, and
Beverly would feel and acknowledge his indignant appeals to their honour
and chivalry. How these youthful and sanguine expectations were realized
will be seen in the sequel. The boat soon returned with orders from Sir
William Berkley to detain the prisoner on board during the night, and
to send him ashore as soon in the morning as it should be announced by a
shot from a piece of ordnance, that the court had assembled. That he was
to be tried by a court-martial had barely entered his imagination.
At dawn of day a gun from the shore announced the assembling of the
court, and Bacon was brought upon deck by the orders of the Captain. He
perceived that the ship's boat was already in the water, supported on
each side by larger ones from the shore, filled with armed soldiers.
However much he may have been surprised by these prudential
preparations, he was still more surprised, and more fully began to
realize his situation, when he perceived a man standing ready to secure
his hands in irons. At first sight of this contemplated indignity, he
shrank back instinctively with something of the natural feelings of
youth, but the impression was only momentary; he shook it off and walked
firmly to the smith, near whom stood Captain Gardiner, and a guard to do
his bidding in case of necessity. As the youthful Chieftain approached,
the hardy veteran of the seas was evidently embarrassed. He was
reluctant to offer such a needless affront to one of so bold and manly a
bearing. An indistinct apology was commenced, of which the only parts
that Bacon distinguished or cared to learn was, that the precaution was
taken by the orders of Sir William Berkley. "I doubt it not--I doubt it
not, sir," he replied; "Do your duty--I am in his power for the
present, and must submit with the best grace I can; but a day of
retribution is coming; and even should I be basely murdered upon these
distant shores, as seems not unlikely from these preparations, and the
tribunal of which I hear they are the precursors, my death will not go
unavenged."
His hands were soon confined within the iron bands, connected by chains
some two feet in length, and then, with the assistance of the Captain
and crew, he was let down into the boat. He was not long in discovering
that the military escort in the two outer boats was commanded by Mr.
Philip Ludwell. No sign of recognition took place between them,
notwithstanding they had moved in the same circles at the Capital before
the interruption of the civil war. Bacon was too much of a soldier
himself, and too well versed in the duties of a subordinate to throw any
of the blame of his present condition upon his quondam acquaintance, and
would readily have exchanged the courtesies due from one gentleman to
another, had he not perceived a suppressed smile of triumph upon the
countenance of Ludwell as he entered the boat. Whether the latter viewed
him as rebel or patriot he felt indignant at his ungentlemanly conduct,
and folding his chained arms upon his manly chest, took no farther
notice of its author.
As they approached the shore, and the mists of early morning began to
break away before the rising sun, Bacon recognised many landmarks which
had not altogether been unknown to him in happier days. The house at
which Sir William Berkley now exercised his vice-regal functions,
surrounded by such of the Cavaliers as still adhered to his fortunes,
became also visible. This Bacon recognised as the property of the
officer in command of the guard surrounding his own person. The shore
was covered with tents, marquees and soldiers, the latter being the
English mercenaries, and marshalled for his reception in imposing array.
Two lines were formed from the landing to the house, between which he
was now marched in the centre of his guard.
When they arrived within the hall he found the martial tribunal ready
assembled for his trial. A long table was placed in the centre of the
room, upon which lay swords, caps, and feathers. At the farther end from
the entrance sat Sir William Berkley, as president of the court, and on
either side some eight or ten of his officers, all clad in the military
costume of the day. Their gay doublets had been exchanged for buff
coats, surmounted by the gorget alone, for the vambraces, with their
concomitants, had been abandoned during the commonwealth. Some of the
cavalry and pikemen, indeed, still wore head and back pieces, in the
king's army,[12] but the Virginian officers were generally dressed at
that time as we have described them.
[Footnote 12: See statutes 13 and 14th Charles the 2d.]
Among the number of officers now confronting the prisoner, sat Francis
Beverly. He seemed perfectly calm and collected, and not in the least
aware that there was any impropriety in his sitting in judgment upon the
prisoner standing at the foot of the table.
Bacon drew himself up to his utmost height, as he again folded his arms
and ran his indignant eye over his accusers and judges; as it rested in
its course upon Beverly, a fierce indignation lighted up its clear hazel
outlines, but it was only for an instant--his glance wandered on over
the other members of the court, while his lip curled in a settled
expression of scorn and contempt. The old Cavalier at the head of the
board rose in visible agitation--his eyes flashed fire and his hands
trembled as he took the paper from the scribe and read the charge
against the prisoner.
The merest form of an impartial trial was indecently hastened through.
Witnesses were not wanting indeed, and those too, who could testify to
every thing the Governor desired, but no time had been allowed the
prisoner to procure testimony in his own behalf, or prepare his defence.
The times were perhaps somewhat out of joint; but the state of the
colony was by no means such as to require that a prominent citizen,
standing high in the affection of his countrymen, should be deprived of
those inestimable privileges secured by the laws of England, to every
one under accusation of high crimes and misdemeanors; and these laws
had been adopted and were in full force in the infant state. At the very
outset of the trial, Gen. Bacon objected to the military character of
the court, as well as to the indecent haste and the retired nature of
the place in which it was held. He contended that his crime, if crime he
had committed, was a civil offence, and ought to be tried by the civil
tribunals of the country. All these weighty objections were answered by
a waive of the president's hand, and the trial proceeded to its
previously well known conclusion, without farther interruption.
Before the final vote was taken upon the question whether the prisoner
was guilty of high treason or not, he was ordered to be removed from the
court-room for a few moments, in order that their deliberations might be
uninterrupted. As the guard marched the prisoner through the house into
the back court of the establishment, his step still proud and his
carriage elevated with the sense of conscious rectitude, he was at once
brought to a stand by the sight of a spectacle which sent the blood,
chilled with horror, back to his heart. This was a gibbet or gallows,
erected in the very court to which they were conducting him, and upon it
hung two of his own soldiers![13] All evidence of vitality had long
since departed, and their bodies swung round and round, under the
impulse of the morning breeze, in horrible monotony. Bacon's first
sensation was one of unmixed horror, but this was succeeded by
indignation; not a thought for his own safety occurred to his mind while
under the first impressions of the fearful spectacle. But as fierce
indignation stirred up his torpid energies to thoughts of revenge, the
means began to present themselves, and then it was that he shook the
iron fetters which bound him, in savage and morose despair. Perhaps a
chill from some more personal feeling ran through his veins, when he
reflected how short had been the passage of his two humble followers
from the sloop which had borne them across the bay on the preceding
night, to eternity. They had evidently suffered some hours
previous--perhaps during the night. They were the two subaltern
officers--selected by himself for his expedition down the river, and
chosen for their desperate bravery at the battle of Bloody Run. And now
to see their manly proportions ignominiously exposed upon a gibbet,
after having been most inhumanly murdered, was more than he could calmly
bear. Bitter and unavailing were his reflections as he stood a spectator
of this outrage, while his own life hung suspended by a hair.
[Footnote 13: See Sanguinary executions of Bacon's followers--without
the legal forms of trial, in the Histories of the times.]
He was not left long a spectator of this cruel scene; the guard was
ordered to present the prisoner again before the court to receive
sentence.
When Bacon stood once more at the foot of the table, surrounded by his
unrelenting enemies, his countenance evinced a total change. When first
he stood in the same place, he had not fully realized his situation; he
was stupified with overwatching and fatigue. The young are always slow
to apprehend the darker shadows in their own prospective, and
instinctively cling to the brighter aspect of events and circumstances,
until some sudden calamity or unexpected reverse in their own immediate
career, opens their eyes to the stern reality. When such a change is
brought immediately before the senses, then indeed the dreadful truth
speaks direct to the apprehension. Few criminals at the moment of
receiving sentence of death, realize more than a horrid and oppressive
sense of present calamity--all hope has not yet entirely forsaken them.
But could they see upon the spot a fellow criminal undergoing the last
penalty of the law, they would at once realize the truth in all its
terrors.
The sight of his unfortunate followers had thus opened the eyes of the
youthful general, to the desperate character of his enemies, and the
awful fate which immediately awaited him, but it was not fear which now
revived his stupified powers to action. His look was bold and daring,
while a preternatural brilliancy shot from his proud eye, as the
president of the court, with an assumed calmness, pronounced upon him
the sentence of death. As the last fatal word fell from the lips of the
stern old knight, the prisoner's countenance was rigid, cold and
death-like for an instant, as he struggled to master his rebellious and
scornful feelings into such a state of discipline as would enable him
to express the little he had to say, with clearness and precision.
Although the usual question, "if he had any thing to say why sentence of
death should not be pronounced against him," was not asked, he stepped
boldly up to the end of the board, and notwithstanding the magisterial
waive of the president's hand for silence, and a simultaneous order to
the officer of the guard to remove him--gave utterance to his feelings
in these words, and with a manner powerfully subdued, yet energetic; his
voice issuing from between his rigidly set teeth like that of one under
the influence of reckless desperation.
"If it may so please the president, and gentlemen of the court-martial,
I will not tamely and silently submit myself to be butchered in cold
blood, without raising my voice and protesting against the jurisdiction
of the court--the time--the place--the manner of the trial--the persons
who compose the court, and especially him who presides over your
deliberations.
"Was it treason I committed, when I boldly and openly marched from
Jamestown to Orapacks, at the head of the brave men who drove before
them the savages by whom the dwellings of the Colony had been burned,
and its women and children murdered? Did not the house of burgesses
request the Governor to sign the commission, which the people had
unanimously put into my hands? Did he not pledge his knightly word that
the commissions should be ratified? Under the authority of that
commission and that promise, have I not driven the enemies of civilized
man before me, as I marched through the Peninsula? Have I not done what
has never before been done? cut out a broad line of separation between
the habitations of the white man and the savage? Have I not avenged the
murders committed on the night of the massacre? Have I not avenged
injuries committed against more than one member of this very court, by
the bloody confederation? Have I not, with these hands, rescued the
sister-in-law of the president of this very tribunal from the murderous
tomahawk of the savages? True, it was only to die--but it was worthy of
all my poor exertions to rescue her body from their unhallowed hands,
that it might rest in consecrated ground. Have I not annihilated the
confederation itself, cut to pieces the assembled tribes--rescued the
prisoners, razed to the ground the fortifications at the falls, and made
prisoners of the brave remnant of those misguided nations who erected
it? If this be treason, then indeed am I a traitor!
"Why is it that this great and glorious country, opened to the oppressed
and crowded nations of the old world by a kind and beneficent
Providence, must so often become the theatre of struggles for personal
aggrandizement and power? Why is it that our arms must be turned against
ourselves in fratricidal conflict, when so many enemies have been
swarming upon our frontiers, and devastating our settlements? Must the
great and evident designs of the Creator be thus constantly retarded?
the great destinies of this vast land obscured in the dawn, by the petty
struggles of contending chieftains? Who can tell how far to the mighty
west the tide of civilization and emigration would have rolled their
swelling waves, but for the scenes of personal rivalry and contention
like the present, which have disgraced our annals?
"The rosy tints of the morning dawn of destiny have scarcely risen in
the east of this mighty continent--the boldest and the wildest
imagination cannot soar into futurity, and predict its noon-day glories,
or count up the tides and floods of human beings, that shall be wafted
to these shores, and thence roll in successive waves, to the dark and as
yet unknown west.
"I have been but an humble instrument in the hands of the Great Mover of
these mighty currents, and for this ye seek my life. But death to this
frail body cannot arrest the great movement, in which I have been an
actor. I have indeed been the first to point out the importance of
drawing a broad line of separation between the European and the native,
the first to show the necessity of rolling to the west the savage
hordes, as the swelling numbers of our own countrymen increase upon our
hands. Future emigration must advance westward in a semicircular
wave--like a kindred billow of the watery ocean, sweeping all
obstruction before it.
"If the natives flee before this rolling tide, and survive its
destructive progress, well and happy will it be for them; but if they
attempt to buffet the storm, ruin hangs upon their tardy footsteps. I
confess that I have been the first to maintain the impossibility of the
two species living together in peace, and to execute the primitive and
opening step in this great revolution of nations. If this be treason,
then am I a traitor. But if I fall, think not that the great movement
shall fall with me. The Great Ruler of the universe has opened these
fertile hills and dales to his oppressed creatures; and he has likewise
pointed out the necessity of driving back them who make no use of these
blessings, and who rise not from their idolatry and ignorance to a state
fitted to render glory to their Creator. The tide will move on to the
westward, in spite of such tribunals as this. If I am to die here in
this insulated neck of land, by the hands of those who are themselves
prisoners, so be it--I shall die contented in the knowledge that I have
not lived in vain, and that future generations will rescue from oblivion
the name of him who first opened an avenue to the mighty and unknown
west, and however illegally my life may be taken, I will show you that I
can die as becomes a soldier and a Cavalier. One request I would fain
make, even of them whose actions I abhor and despise; it is this; as
you have tried and condemned me by a military tribunal, that you inflict
upon me the death of a soldier. This is a request which I would alike
make to a heathen or an infidel."
"Take him immediately to the gallows," shouted Sir William Berkley.
The officer of the guard approached with his myrmidons, and laid hold of
the prisoner, in accordance with the mandate of the Governor; but three
or four members of the court rose at once, and expressed their
willingness to allow the prisoner until the succeeding day to prepare
for execution.
"Away with him, away with him," again vociferated the president, at the
same time, menacing the official who stood holding the prisoner,
doubtful how to act, and apparently willing to listen to the more
merciful suggestion. By this time the whole court was in confusion and
uproar; every member was upon his feet, together with the president,
each one endeavouring to be heard. A large majority of the members were
for the longest time, and these now demanded of the Governor to submit
the question to the court; but the old knight, having probably
discovered that Ludwell and Beverly were his only supporters,
clamorously persisted in ordering the prisoner to instant execution.
Bacon himself, during this time, at first stood with his arms folded and
a bitter smile of contempt playing upon his features, until the turmoil
growing louder and more protracted, he too attempted to obtain a
hearing. "It is perfectly indifferent to me," said he, "whether I am
murdered to-morrow, or at the next moment; let the hour come when it
may, my blood be upon your skirts!"
His manly bearing served to reanimate those who contended for delay, and
the strife continued to grow more noisy and turbulent, until, as if by
magic, a side door of the apartment opened, and a new actor appeared
upon the scene. The court was instantaneously hushed to silence, and Sir
William Berkley stood as if he beheld an apparition, while Bacon bounded
forward and clasped Virginia, who rushed into his outstretched (but
fettered) arms.
When she first gently pushed open the door, not one of the court or of
the attendants perceived her. She was clad in the loose folds of the
sick chamber--her blond curls fell in unheeded ringlets over her brow,
temples and shoulders--her face was pale as monumental marble, and her
frame weak and trembling, while a preternatural excitement of the moment
shot from her eyes, as she gazed through the partly opened door, to
ascertain if her ears had not deceived her.
Not a word was uttered louder than a deep impassioned whisper, until
Virginia perceived the chains upon his hands, when seizing the iron by
the middle she stepped forward and boldly elevating her head, addressed
Sir William--"Whence these chains, sir?--tell me quickly; tell me that
they have not been put on by your orders--before I curse the hour that
united my destiny in any manner with yours!"
"Not only were they imposed by my orders, but they were so put on in
preparation for a ceremony which shall alike cure you of your vagaries
and release me from his hated presence for ever! Guard, lead her to her
chamber, and the prisoner to execution!"
Scarcely had the words died upon his lips, ere she sprang from the grasp
of the officer, and locked her hands around the neck of her lover,
exclaiming, "Now you may shoot him through me--no ball enters his body
but through mine. You may hack off my arms with your swords, but until
then I will never leave him!"
The Governor and Beverly now came forward, and each of them seizing a
hand, they tore her from his embrace, in the midst of a wild hysterical
laugh, not however before Bacon had imprinted a kiss upon her pale
forehead, and uttered a brief and agonizing farewell. He then seated
himself upon a chair, and covering his face with his hands, gave himself
up to emotions which had not before been awakened during his trial.
As they were leading Virginia from the room, she suddenly recovered her
composure, sprang from their grasp, and placing herself against the
wall, between two of the officers of the court, who were still standing,
clung to their arms while she thus addressed Frank Beverly--"And this is
the method you have taken to win your way to my favour--this is the
plan you have devised to rid yourself of a rival. And you too, his
deadly enemy--to sit in judgment upon him, and mock justice by the
cowardly device. Out upon you, sir, for a craven-hearted dastard. Is
this the way you were to meet and conquer him in battle? Where are your
trophies for my bridal turban, taken from the standards of his
followers? You take trophies from Bacon in battle! One glance of his
manly eye would drive the blood chilled to your craven heart, and wither
the muscles of your coward arm."
Again she was seized, and dragged from the court-room by the Governor
and Beverly. In a few moments the president returned, and found the
court proceeding in his absence deliberately to take the question on
granting the prisoner until the succeeding day to prepare for death, and
allowing him the attendance of a clergyman. Sir William was fearful
perhaps, that by resisting the will of the majority, he should defeat
his purpose, and therefore acquiesced in what he could not prevent, with
more amenity than might have been expected from his previous violence.
The prisoner had not so suddenly regained his equanimity; he was indeed
making strenuous exertions to that end, but now and then a piercing
scream from the upper chambers of the mansion thrilled through his
nerves, and more than once he suddenly sprang to his feet, and made an
attempt to rush past his vigilant keepers, but was as quickly reminded
of his helplessness by the jarring sound of his fetters, and the ready
grasp of the officials. After several such attempts, he at length folded
his arms, and gave himself up to bitter reflections--a wretched smile
flashing athwart his countenance indicating the violence of the internal
struggle and the cruel pangs that rent his bosom.
The majority of the court having triumphed in the first matter, the
question was again raised as to the manner of his death, and Bacon's
countenance was actually lit up by a smile when he heard the decision of
the court in favour of his own request, that he might die the death of a
soldier. The guard were at the moment leading him from the court room to
his prison house, and his step became more firm and elastic, and he
could now look upon the wretched spectacle in the court, without the
same degree of horror which he had before evinced.
When he had marched several paces in his progress round the mansion, he
halted suddenly and wheeled round to survey the dormer windows peering
through the roof, as was the fashion with the long low houses of the
time. His eye rested from its piercing and steady gaze, in sadness and
disappointment, and he threw down his chained hands with a violent
motion, as he resumed his march between the soldiers. They conducted him
to the door of a cellar at the end of the house, which was secured with
double defences; in the next moment he was rudely thrust into a damp
cellar, without a ray of light, and the door was closed and securely
bolted.