the countryside was ringing with glowing reports of his success against
the Indians. The people welcomed him with wild enthusiasm, for they not
only regarded him as their champion against the brutalities of savages,
but attributed to him the calling of the new Assembly, to which they
looked for relief from the "hard times." Their hopes, as will be seen,
were not doomed to disappointment.
A short time before the meeting of this "June Assembly," as it was
commonly called, Bacon made his friend and neighbor, Captain Crews, the
bearer of a letter from him to Sir William Berkeley, in which he said:
"Sir: Loyalty to our King and obedience to your Honor as his Majesty's
servant or chief commander here, under him, this was generally the
preface in all my proceedings to all men, declaring that I abhorred
rebellion or the opposing of laws or government, and if that your Honor
were in person to lead or command, I would follow and obey, and that if
nobody were present, though I had no order, I would still adventure to
go in defence of the country against all Indians in general, for that
they were all our enemies; this I have always said and do maintain, but
as to the injury or violation of your power, interest, or personal
safety, I always accounted magistracy sacred and the justness of your
authority a sanctuary; I have never otherwise said, nor ever will have
any other thoughts."
Continuing, he says that he does not believe the rumors of the
Governor's threats against his (Bacon's) life, which are "daily and
hourly brought to my ears," and wishes that "his Honor" were as willing
to distrust the various reports of him. He says his conscience is too
clear to fear and his resolution too well grounded to let him
discontinue his course, and closes his letter with these words:
"I dare be as brave as I am innocent, who am, in spite of all your high
resentment, unfeignedly, your Honor's humble and obedient servant."
Madam Byrd, who had been driven from her home by fear of the Indians,
said in a letter to a friend in England that neither Mr. Bacon nor any
with him had injured any Englishman in their persons or estates, that
the country was well pleased with what he had done, and she believed the
council was too, "so far as they durst show it." "Most of those with Mr.
Bacon," she wrote, "were substantial householders who bore their own
charges in this war against the Indians." She added that she had heard
that Bacon had told his men that he "would punish any man severely that
should dare to speak a word against the Governor or government."
Henrico County chose Nathaniel Bacon to represent it in the new House of
Burgesses, and Captain Crewes was also sent from that county. Although
the voters were resolved to give their darling a voice in the Assembly,
however, they were loth to trust his person in the midst of so many
dangers as they knew lurked about Jamestown for him. Madam Elizabeth
Bacon, proudly writing of her young husband, to her sister in England,
under date June 29, says, "The country does so really love him that they
would not leave him alone anywhere."
And so, accompanied by a body-guard of forty armed men, the newly
elected Burgess of Henrico set sail in a sloop for Jamestown. When he
had passed Swan's Point, a mile or two above the town, he dropped anchor
and sent a messenger ashore to inquire of the Governor whether or not he
might land in safety and take his seat as a member of the Assembly.
Governor Berkeley's only answer was delivered promptly, and with no
uncertain sound, from the savage mouths of the "great guns" on the
ramparts of the town fort--whereupon Bacon moved his sloop higher up the
river. After nightfall, accompanied by a party of his men, he ventured
on shore and went to "Mr. Lawrence's house" in the town, where he had an
interview with his good friends Mr. Lawrence and Mr. Drummond, and then
returned to the sloop without having been seen. These two friends of
Bacon's were gentlemen of prominence and wealth in the colony. Their
houses were the best built and the best furnished in Jamestown, and
Richard Lawrence was a scholar as well as a "gentleman and a man of
property," for he was a graduate of Oxford, and was known to his
contemporaries as "thoughtful Mr. Lawrence." His accomplishments, added
to a genial and gracious temper, made him a favorite with both the
humble and the great, and he had the honor to represent Jamestown in the
House of Burgesses. He had married a rich widow who kept a fashionable
inn at Jamestown, and their house was a rendezvous for persons of the
best quality. Mr. Lawrence was cordially hated by Governor Berkeley and
his friends, one of whom dubbed him "that atheistical and scandalous
person."
Mr. Drummond, "a sober Scotch Gentleman of good repute," had at one time
been Governor of North Carolina. He was noted for wisdom and honesty,
and an admirer said of him, "His dimensions are not to be taken by the
line of an ordinary capacity"; but the Governor's caustic friend,
already quoted, has placed him on record as "that perfidious Scot."
We shall hear more of these two gentlemen hereafter.
At length, finding no hope of meeting with a more hospitable greeting
from the Governor of Virginia than that which he had already received,
the "Rebel" set his sails homeward; but, in obedience to Governor
Berkeley's orders, Captain Gardner, master of the ship _Adam and Eve_,
which lay a little way up the river, headed him off, and "commanded his
sloop in" by firing upon him from aboard ship, arrested him and his
guard, and delivered them up to the Governor, in Jamestown. Within the
State House there a bit of drama was then acted in the presence of the
amazed Assembly--Governor Berkeley and Mr. Bacon playing the principal
parts. In this scene the fair-spoken Governor's feigned clemency was
well-matched by the prisoner's feigned repentance, for Berkeley found it
prudent to be careful of the person of a man in whose defense the
excited people were ready to lay down their lives, and Bacon found it
equally prudent to seem to believe in the friendship of one who he knew
hated him with all the venom of his bitter heart, and doubtless also
realized that to accept the proffered clemency, however insincere he
might know it to be, was the likeliest way of obtaining the coveted
commission to continue his Indian campaign, and to gain admission to his
seat in the Assembly, by which he hoped to raise his voice in behalf of
the oppressed commonalty of Virginia.
The Governor, looking at Bacon, but addressing himself to the Assembly,
said:
"Now I behold the greatest rebel that ever was in Virginia." Then,
addressing himself to the prisoner, he questioned, "Sir, do you continue
to be a gentleman, and may I take your word? If so you are at liberty
upon your own parole."
Upon which Mr. Bacon expressed deep gratitude for so much favor.
On the next day the Governor stood up during the session of the Council,
sitting as upper house of the Assembly, and said:
"If there be joy in the presence of angels over one sinner that
repenteth, there is joy now, for we have a penitent come before us. Call
Mr. Bacon."
Mr. Bacon came forward, and dropping upon his knee, in mock humility,
presented his Honor with a paper which he had drawn up, pleading guilty
of the crime of rebellion and disobedience and throwing himself upon the
mercy of the court.
Governor Berkeley forthwith declared him restored to favor, saying three
times over, "God forgive you, I forgive you!"
Colonel Cole, of the Council, put in, "And all that were with him."
"Yea," quoth Sir William Berkeley, "and all that were with him"--meaning
the Rebel's body-guard who had been captured in the sloop with him, and
were then lying in irons.
Governor Berkeley furthermore extended his clemency to the culprit by
restoring him to his former place in the Council of State,--"his
Majesty's Council," as the Virginians loved to call it,--made him a
positive promise of the much-desired commission to march against the
Indians, and even suffered Captain Gardner, of the ship _Adam and Eve_,
to be fined the sum of seventy pounds damage and in default of payment
to be thrown into jail, for seizing Bacon and his sloop, according to
his own express orders.
Bacon's friends had been thrown into an uproar at the news of his
arrest, and some of them made "dreadful threatenings to double revenge
all wrongs" to their champion and his guard; but all were now so pleased
at the happy turn of affairs that "every man with great gladness
returned to his own home."
And so it happened that Mr. Nathaniel Bacon, so lately dubbed a "rebel"
and a "mutineer," took his seat, not merely in the House of Burgesses,
but in the more distinguished body, "his Majesty's Council." The Council
chamber was upon the first floor of the State House, that occupied by
the Burgesses' upon the second. The Burgesses, as they filed upstairs to
take their places, that afternoon, saw, through the open door of the
Council chamber, a surprising sight,--"Mr. Bacon on his quondam
seat,"--and to at least one of them it seemed "a marvelous indulgence"
after all that had happened.
The session was distinctly one of reform. Nathaniel Bacon was determined
to make the best of his hard-earned advantage while he had it, and he at
once made his influence felt in the Assembly. He was now strong with
both Burgesses and Council, who were won, in spite of any prejudices
they may have had, to acknowledge the personal charm and the executive
genius of the daring youth. He promptly set about revising and improving
the laws. Universal suffrage was restored, a general inspection of
public expenses and auditing of public accounts was ordered, and laws
were enacted requiring frequent election of vestries by the people, and
prohibiting all trade with the Indians, long terms of office, excessive
fees, and the sale of spirituous liquors. Some of the most unpopular
leaders of the Governor's party were debarred from holding any public
office.
The wisdom of the Rebel's legislation was to be later set forth by the
fact that after his death, when the fascination of a personality which
had bent men's wills to its own was no longer felt, and when his name
was held in contempt by many who failed to understand him or his
motives, the people of Virginia clamored for the reestablishment of
"Bacon's Laws," which upon his downfall had been repealed; and in
February, 1676-7, many of them were actually re-enacted--with only their
titles changed.
Governor Berkeley, finding it beyond his power to stem the tide of
reformation which tossed the old man about like a leaf whose little
summer is past,--a tide by which his former glory seemed to be utterly
submerged and blotted out,--pleaded sickness as an excuse to get away
from it all, and take refuge within his own home, but in vain. Not until
he had placed his signature to each one of the acts passed for the
relief of the people and correction of the existing abuses would Bacon
permit him to stir a step.
But the Assembly was not wholly taken up with revising the laws. It
devoted much attention to planning the Indian campaign to be carried on
under "General Bacon," for which 1,000 men and provisions were provided.
For this little army we are told that some volunteered to enlist and
others were talked into doing so by members of the Council--Councillor
Ballard being especially zealous in the work. It was also decided to
enlist the aid of the Pamunkey Indians, who were descendants of
Powhatan's braves, and had been allies of the English against other
tribes. Accordingly, the "Queen of Pamunkey" was invited to appear
before the House of Burgesses and say what she would do. The "Queen" at
this time commanded a hundred and fifty warriors. She was the widow of
the "mighty Totapotamoy" who had led a hundred warriors, in aid of the
English, at the battle of "Bloody Run," and was slain with most of his
men. The Association for the Preservation of Virginia Antiquities
possesses an interesting relic in what is known as the "Indian
Crown,"--a silver frontlet presented to the "Queen of Pamunkey" by the
English Government, as a testimonial of friendship.
This forest queen is said to have "entered the chamber with a
comportment graceful to admiration, bringing on her right hand an
Englishman interpreter, and on her left her son, a stripling twenty
years of age, she having round her head a plait of black and white
wampumpeag, three inches broad, in imitation of a crown, and was clothed
in a mantle of dressed deerskins with the hair outwards and the edge cut
round six inches deep, which made strings resembling twisted fringe from
the shoulders to the feet; thus with grave courtlike gestures and a
majestic air in her face, she walked up our long room to the lower end
of the table, where after a few entreaties, she sat down; the
interpreter and her son standing by her on either side, as they had
walked up."
When the chairman of the House addressed her she refused to answer
except through the interpreter, though it was believed that she
understood all that was said. Finally, when the interpreter had made
known to her that the House desired to know how many men she would lend
her English friends for guides in the wilderness against her own and
their "enemy Indians," she uttered, "with an earnest, passionate
countenance, as if tears were ready to gush out," and a "high, shrill
voice," a "harangue," in which the only intelligible words were,
"Totapotamoy dead! Totapotamoy dead!" Colonel Edward Hill, whose father
had commanded the English at the battle of "Bloody Run," and who was
present, it is written, "shook his head."
In spite of this tragic "harangue," the House pressed her to say how
many Indians she would spare for the campaign. She "sat mute till that
same question being pressed a third time, she, not returning her face to
the board, answered, with a low, slighting voice, in her own language,
_Six_. But being further importuned, she, sitting a little while sullen,
without uttering a word between, said _Twelve_. . . . and so rose up and
walked gravely away, as not pleased with her treatment."
While Bacon was dictating laws in Virginia, making ready for the march
against the Indians and at the same time preparing a defense of himself
for the King, his father, Thomas Bacon, of Friston Hall, England, was on
bended knee before his Majesty pleading with him to withhold judgment
against the rash young man until he could obtain a full account of his
part in the troubles in the colony, concerning which startling tales had
already been carried across the water.
VII.
THE COMMISSION.
At last the Grand Assembly's work was done and everything but one was
ready for the march against the Indians--the commission which Sir
William Berkeley had publicly promised Bacon, and for which alone Bacon
and his army tarried at Jamestown, was not yet forthcoming. The
perfidious old man, crazed with jealousy of his prosperous young rival
in the affections of the people, postponed granting it from day to day,
while he secretly plotted Bacon's ruin. His plots were discovered,
however, by some of the friends of Bacon, who was "whispered to," not a
moment too soon, and informed that the Governor had given orders for him
to be arrested again, and that road and river were beset with men lying
in wait to assassinate him if he attempted to leave Jamestown. Thus
warned, he took horse and made his escape through the dark streets and
past the scattered homes of the sleeping town before the sun was up to
show which course he had taken. In the morning the party sent out to
capture him made a diligent search throughout the town, actually
thrusting their swords through the beds in the house of his "thoughtful"
friend, Mr. Lawrence, to make sure that he was not hidden in them.
No sooner had the fugitive Bacon reached the "up country" than the
inhabitants crowded around him, clamoring for news of the Assembly and
eager to know the fate of his request for a commission to fight the
Indians. When they learned the truth they "began to set up their throats
in one common cry of oaths and curses." Toward evening of the same day a
rumor reached Jamestown that Bacon was coming back at the head of a
"raging tumult," who threatened to pull down the town if the Governor's
promises to their leader were not kept. Governor Berkeley immediately
ordered four "great guns" to be set up at Sandy Beach--the only
approach, by land, to Jamestown--to welcome the invaders, and all the
men who could be mustered--only thirty in all--were called out and other
preparations made to defend the town.
Next morning the little capital rang with the call to arms, but the
despised Governor, finding it impossible to get together enough soldiers
to resist the people's favorite, resorted to the stratagem of seeking to
disarm the foe by the appearance of peace. The unfriendly cannon were
taken from their carriages, the small arms put out of sight, and the
whole town was made to present a picture of harmlessness and serenity.
The Assembly was calmly sitting on that June day when, without meeting
with the slightest attempt at resistance, Nathaniel Bacon marched into
Jamestown at the head of four hundred foot soldiers and a hundred and
twenty horse. He at once stationed guards at all the "principal places
and avenues," so that "no place could be more securely guarded," and
then drew his men up in front of the State House where the Councillors
and Burgesses were in session, and defiantly demanded the promised
commission. Some parleying through a committee sent out by the Council
followed, but nothing was effected. Throughout the town panic reigned.
The white head of the aged and almost friendless Governor alone kept
cool. At length, his Cavalier blood at boiling point, he arose from the
executive chair, and stalking out to where Bacon stood, while the
gentlemen of the Council followed in a body, denounced him to his face
as a "rebel" and a "traitor." Then, baring his bosom, he shouted, "Here!
Shoot me! 'Fore God, a fair mark, shoot!" repeating the words several
times. Drawing his sword, he next proposed to settle the matter with
Bacon, then and there, in single combat.
"Sir," said Bacon, "I came not, nor intend, to hurt a hair of your
Honor's head, and as for your sword, your Honor may please to put it up;
it shall rust in the scabbard before ever I shall desire you to draw it.
I come for a commission against the heathen who daily inhumanly murder
us and spill our brethren's blood, and no care is taken to prevent it,"
adding, "God damn my blood, I came for a commission, and a commission I
will have before I go!"
During this dramatic interview, Bacon, his dark eyes burning, his black
locks tossing, strode back and forth betwixt his two lines of
men-at-arms, resting his left hand upon his hip, and flinging his right
from his hat to his sword-hilt, and back again, while the Burgesses
looked on breathless from the second-story windows of the State House.
At length the baffled Governor wheeled about and, with haughty mien,
walked toward his private apartment at the other end of the State House,
the gentlemen of the Council still close following him, while Bacon, in
turn, surrounded by his body-guard, followed them, continuing to
gesticulate in the wild fashion that has been described.
Finding Sir William deaf to every appeal, the determined young leader
swore another great oath, and exclaiming, "I'll kill Governor, Council,
Assembly and all, and then I'll sheathe my sword in my own heart's
blood!" he turned to his guard and ordered them to "Make ready, and
present!"
In a flash the loaded muskets of the "fusileers" pointed with steady aim
and true toward the white faces in the State House windows, while from
the throats of the little army below arose a chorus of "We _will_ have
it! We _will_ have it!" meaning the promised commission.
A quick-witted Burgess waved his handkerchief from the window, shouting,
as he did so, "You _shall_ have it! You _shall_ have it!" and the day
was saved. The tiny flag of truce worked a magic spell. The soldiers
withdrew their guns, uncocked the matchlocks, and quietly followed Bacon
back to the main body of his men. One witness says that Bacon's men also
shouted a chorus of, "No levies! No levies!"
After a long and heated argument with Council and Burgesses (though not
until the next day) Governor Berkeley grudgingly drew up a commission
and sent it out. Bacon, who was bent upon making the most of his
hard-won position, was not content with it, however, and scorning to
accept it, dictated one to his own mind and required the Governor to
sign it, as well as thirty blank ones for officers to serve under him,
to be filled with such names as he himself should see fit. Afterward,
finding need of still more officers, he sent to Berkeley for another
supply of blank commissions, but the beaten old man, deserted, for the
time, by his resources and his nerve, sent back the answer that he had
signed enough already, and bade General Bacon sign the rest for himself.
One more paper, however, the old man was made to sign--a letter to King
Charles explaining and excusing Bacon's course, and an act of indemnity
for Bacon and his followers.
Most of the commissions Bacon filled with the regular officers of the
militia, as the "most fit to bear commands," and likely to be the "most
satisfactory to both Governor and people."
The young General sat up all night long making his appointments and
preparing the commissions, keeping the Burgess from Stafford County,
Mr. Mathew, whom he had pressed into service as secretary, up with him.
This gentleman made bold to express the fear that as the people he
represented dwelt upon the most northern frontier of the colony, their
interests might not be so much regarded as those in General Bacon's own
neighborhood, on the far southern frontier; but his fears were set to
rest by Bacon's assurance that "the like care should be taken of the
remotest corners in the land as in his own dwelling house."
In the very midst of Nathaniel Bacon's little reign at Jamestown came
the news that the Indians, with a boldness exceeding any they had
hitherto shown, had swooped down upon two settlements on York River,
only twenty-three miles distant from the little capital, and more than
forty miles within the bounds of the frontier plantations, and had
massacred eight persons. This was upon the morning of the twenty-fifth
of June--a Sunday--when the pious Virginians were doubtless rejoicing in
a welcome rest from law-making, and, resplendent in apparel fashioned
after the latest mode in England at the time when the ships that
brought it over sailed thence, were offering thanks in the church for
the promise of brighter days which filled their hearts with good hope.
The town was again thrown into an uproar. Bacon ordered supplies to be
taken to the Falls of James River, and upon Monday morning, bright and
early, flags were unfurled, drums and trumpets sounded, and with the
authority of the cherished commission as "General of all the forces in
Virginia against the Indians," and the God-speed of men, women and
children, he marched away at the head of his thousand troops.
From the chorus of cheers and prayers for his safety and success that
followed him, however, one voice was missing. There was among those that
witnessed the departure one who was silver-haired and full of years, but
who had grown old ungracefully, for his brilliant and picturesque prime
had been eclipsed by a narrow and crabbed old age. While every heart but
his was stirred to its depths, every eye but his dimmed by the gentle
moisture of emotion, every tongue but his attuned to blessings, Sir
William Berkeley was possessed by wrathful silence, resolved to submit
as best he could to what he could not help, and to bide his time till
the aid from England, which he confidently expected, should arrive. He
was in the mean time upon the lookout for any straw that could be caught
at to stem the tide of his rival's popularity, and such a straw he soon
found.