recapture the ship which, it will be remembered, Bacon had sent to the
Eastern Shore after the Governor. When the ship cast anchor before
Accomac, Berkeley sent for her commander, Captain Carver, to come ashore
and hold a parley with him, promising him a safe return. Unfortunately
for himself, the Captain seems to have forgotten for the moment how
little Governor Berkeley's promises were worth. Leaving his ship in
charge of Bland, he went well armed, and accompanied by his most trusty
men, to obey the summons. While Sir William was closeted with Captain
Carver, trying to persuade him to desert the rebel party, Captain
Larrimore, who had a boat in readiness for the purpose, rowed a party of
men, under command of Colonel Philip Ludwell, of the Council, out to the
ship. The Baconians, supposing that the approaching boat came in peace,
were taken entirely by surprise, and all on board were made prisoners.
Soon afterward, Captain Carver, his conference with Sir William over,
set out for the ship, in blissful ignorance of what had happened in his
absence until he came within gun-shot, when he, too, fell an easy prey
into the trap, and soon found himself in irons with Bland and the
others.
A few days later Sir William Berkeley rewarded the unfortunate Captain
Carver for his thus thwarted designs against the liberty of his
Majesty's representative, with the ungracious "gift of the halter."
Governor Berkeley was now having his turn in sweeping things before him.
At the time of the seizure by Carver and Bland of Captain Larrimore's
ship, another ship, lying hard by, in the James, commanded by Captain
Christopher Evelyn, eluded the efforts of the Baconians to seize her
also, and some days later slipped away to England, carrying aboard her a
paper setting forth the Governor's own story of the doings of Nathaniel
Bacon, Jr., in Virginia.
It was upon the first day of August that the Baconians had seized
Captain Larrimore's ship and made her ready to go to Accomac after
Berkeley. Upon the seventh of September Berkeley set sail for Jamestown,
not as a prisoner, but with a fleet consisting of the recaptured ship
and some sixteen or seventeen sloops manned by six hundred sturdy
denizens of Accomac, whom he is said to have bribed to his service with
promises of plunder of all who had taken Bacon's oath,--"catch that
catch could,"--twenty-one years' exemption from all taxes except church
dues, and regular pay of twelvepence per day so long as they should
serve under his colors. He was, moreover, said to have offered like
benefits, and their freedom besides, to all servants of Bacon's
adherents who would take up arms against the Rebel.
The direful news of Sir William's approach, and of the strength with
which he came, "outstripping the canvas wings," reached Jamestown before
any signs of his fleet were spied from the landing. The handful of
Baconians who had been left on guard there to "see the King's peace kept
by resisting the King's vice-gerent," as their enemies sarcastically put
it, were filled with dismay, for they realized themselves to be "a
people utterly undone, being equally exposed to the Governor's
displeasure and the Indians' bloody cruelties."
To prove the too great truth of the report, the Governor's ships were
before long seen sailing up the river, and the Governor's messenger soon
afterward landed, bearing commands for the immediate surrender of the
town, with promise of pardon to all who would desert to the Governor's
cause, excepting only Bacon's two strongest friends, Mr. Drummond and
"thoughtful Mr. Lawrence."
The Baconians had caught too much of the spirit of their leader to
consider such terms as were offered them, and scornfully spurned them;
but seeing that it would be madness to attempt to hold the town against
such numbers, made their escape, leaving abundant reward in the way of
plunder for the Governor and his six hundred men of Accomac. Mr.
Lawrence, whose leave-taking was perhaps the more speedy by reason of
the compliment Sir William had paid him in making him one of the
honorable exceptions in his offer of mercy, left "all his wealth and a
fair cupboard of plate entire standing, which fell into the Governor's
hands the next morning."
About noonday, on September 8, the day following the evacuation, Sir
William entered the little capital. He immediately fortified it as
strongly as possible, and then once more proclaimed Nathaniel Bacon and
his followers rebels and traitors, threatening them with the utmost
extremity of the law.
XI.
BACON RETURNS TO JAMESTOWN.
Let us now return to the venturesome young man who was voluntarily
placing himself under this oft-repeated and portentous ban. We will find
him and his ragged and foot-sore remnant on their way back to Jamestown,
for after the successful meeting with the Pamunkeys he withdrew his
forces from the wilderness and turned his face homewards to gather
strength for the next march. He had already been met by the news of the
reception that awaited him at Jamestown from Sir William. His army
consisted now of only one hundred and thirty-six tired-out, soiled,
tattered and hungry men--not a very formidable array with which to
attack the fortified town, held by his wrathful enemy and the six
hundred fresh men-at-arms from Accomac. Pathetic a show as the little
band presented, however, the gallant young General called them about
him, and with the frankness with which he always opened the eyes of his
soldiers to every possible danger to which they might be exposed in his
service, laid before them Governor Berkeley's schemes for their undoing.
Verily must this impetuous youth have had magic in his tongue. Perhaps
it was because he was able to throw into his tones his passion for the
people's cause and earnest belief in the righteousness of the Rebellion,
that his voice had ever the effect of martial music upon the spirits of
his followers. Their hearts were never so faint but the sound of it
could make them stout, their bodies never so weary but they were ready
to greet a word from him with a hurrah.
Nothing daunted by the appalling news he told them, the brave men
shouted that they would stand by their General to the end. Deeply
touched by their faithfulness, Bacon was quick to express his
appreciation.
"Gentlemen and Fellow Soldiers," he cried: "How am I transported with
gladness to find you thus unanimous, bold and daring, brave and gallant.
You have the victory before you fight, the conquest before battle. I
know you can and dare fight, while they will lie in their place of
refuge and dare not so much as appear in the field before you. Your
hardiness shall invite all the country along, as we march, to come in
and second you.
"The Indians we bear along with us shall be as so many motives to cause
relief from every hand to be brought to you. The ignominy of their
actions cannot but so reflect upon their spirits as they will have no
courage left to fight you. I know you have the prayers and well wishes
of all the people of Virginia, while the others are loaded with their
curses."
As if "animated with new courage," the bit of an army marched onward
toward Jamestown, with speed "out-stripping the swift wings of fame,"
for love and faith lightened their steps. The only stop was in New Kent
County, where, halting long enough to gain some new troops, their
number was increased to three hundred. Weak and weary, ragged and soiled
as was the little army, the home-coming was a veritable triumphal
progress. The dwellers along the way came out of their houses praying
aloud for the happiness of the people's champion, and railing against
the Governor and his party. Seeing the Indian captives whom Bacon's men
led along, they shouted their thanks for his care and his pains for
their preservation, and brought forth fruits and bread for the
refreshment of himself and his soldiers. Women cried out that if need be
they would come and serve under him. His young wife proudly wrote a
friend in England: "You never knew any better beloved than he is. I do
verily believe that rather than he should come to any hurt by the
Governor or anybody else, they would most of them lose their lives."
Rumors of the Governor's warlike preparations for his coming were
received by Bacon with a coolness bound to inspire those under him with
confidence in his and their own strength. Hearing that Sir William had
with him in Jamestown a thousand men, "well armed and resolute," he
nonchalantly made answer that he would soon see how resolute they were,
for he was going to try them. When told that the Governor had sent out a
party of sixty mounted scouts to watch his movements, he said, with a
smile, that they were welcome to come near enough to say "How d'ye," for
he feared them not.
Toward evening upon September 13, after a march of between thirty and
forty miles since daybreak, the army reached "Green Spring," Sir William
Berkeley's own fair estate near Jamestown--the home which had been the
centre of so much that was distinguished and charming in the social life
of the colony during the Cavalier days. In a green field here Bacon
again gathered his men around him for a final word to them before
marching upon the capital. In a ringing appeal he told them that if they
would ever fight they would do so now, against all the odds that
confronted them--the enemy having every advantage of position, places of
retreat, and men fresh and unwearied, while they were "so few, weak,
and tired."
"But I speak not this to discourage you," he added, "but to acquaint you
with what advantages they will neglect and lose." He assured them that
their enemies had not the courage to maintain the charges so boldly made
that they were rebels and traitors.
"Come on, my hearts of gold!" he cried. "He that dies in the field, lies
in the bed of honor!"
With these words the Rebel once more moved onward, and drew up his
"small tired body of men" in an old Indian field just outside of
Jamestown. He promptly announced his presence there in the dramatic and
picturesque fashion that belonged to the time. Riding forward upon the
"Sandy Beach"--a narrow neck of land which then connected the town with
the mainland, but has since been washed away, making Jamestown an
island--he commanded a trumpet-blast to be sounded, and fired off his
carbine. From out the stillness of the night the salute was heard, and
immediately, and with all due ceremony, answered by a trumpeter within
the town. These martial greetings exchanged, Bacon dismounted from his
horse, surveyed the situation and ordered an earthwork to be cast up
across the neck of land, thus cutting off all communication between the
capital and the rest of the colony except by water. Two axes and two
spades were all the tools at the Rebel's command, but all night long his
faithful men worked like beavers beneath the bright September moon.
Trees came crashing down, bushes were cut and earth heaped up, and
before daybreak the fortification was complete and the besiegers were
ready for battle.
When Sir William Berkeley looked abroad next morning and found the
gateway between town and country so hostilely barred he did not suffer
his complacency to forsake him for a moment, for he at once resolved to
try his old trick, in which he had perfect confidence, of seeking to
disarm the enemy by an affectation of friendship. He could not believe
that Bacon would have the hardihood to open war with such a pitiful
force against his Majesty's representative, and pretending to desire a
reconciliation with the Rebel on account of his service against the
Indians, he ordered his men not to make attack.
XII.
JAMESTOWN BESIEGED AND BURNED.
But Sir William Berkeley had played his favorite trick at least twice
too often. Moreover, he little knew of what stern stuff Bacon and his
handful of ragamuffins were made, though they were far too well
acquainted with the silver-haired old Cavalier's ways and wiles to pin
any faith to the fair words that could so glibly slip off of his tongue
and out of his memory.
Early that morning the beginning of the siege was formally announced by
six of Bacon's soldiers, who ran up to the palisades of the town fort,
"fired briskly upon the guard," and retreated safely within their own
earthwork. The fight now began in earnest. Upon a signal from within the
town the Governor's fleet in the river shot off their "great guns,"
while at the same time the guard in the palisades let fly their small
shot. Though thus assailed from two sides at once, the rebels lying
under their earthwork were entirely protected from both, and safe in
their little fortress, returned the fire as fast as it was given. Even
under fire, Bacon, the resourceful, strengthened and enlarged his fort
by having a party of his soldiers to bind fagots into bundles, which
they held before themselves for protection while they made them fast
along the top and at the ends of the earthwork.
A sentinel from the top of a chimney upon Colonel Moryson's plantation,
hard by Jamestown, watched Berkeley's maneuvers all day, and constantly
reported to Bacon how the men in town "posted and reposted, drew on and
off, what number they were and how they moved."
For three days the cross-firing continued, during which the besiegers
were so well shielded that they do not seem to have lost a single man.
Upon the third day the Governor decided to make a sally upon the rebels.
It is written that when he gave the order for the attack some of his
officers made such "crabbed faces" that the "gunner of York Fort," who,
it seems, was humorously inclined, offered too buy a colonel's or a
captain's commission for whomsoever would have one for "a chunk of a
pipe."
It is also written that the Governor's Accomac soldiers "went out with
heavy hearts, but returned with light heels," for the Baconians received
them so warmly that they retired in great disorder, throwing down their
arms and leaving them and their drum on the field behind them, with the
dead bodies of two of their comrades, which the rebels took into their
trenches and buried with their arms.
This taste of success made the besiegers so bold and daring that Bacon
could hardly keep them from attempting to storm and capture Jamestown
forthwith; but he warned them against being over rash, saying that he
expected to take the town without loss of a man, in due season, and that
one of their lives was worth more to him than the whole world.
Upon the day after the sally some of Bacon's Indian captives were
exhibited on top of the earthworks, and this primitive bit of bravado
served as an object-lesson to quicken the enthusiasm of the neighborhood
folk, who were coming over to the Rebel in great numbers.
News was brought that "great multitudes" were also declaring for the
popular cause in Nansemond and Isle of Wight Counties, "as also all the
south side of the river."
Bacon sent a letter from camp to two of his sea-faring friends, Captain
William Cookson and Captain Edward Skewon, describing the progress of
the siege and urging them to protect the "Upper parts of the country"
against pirates, and to bid his friends in those parts "be courageous,
for that all the country is bravely resolute."
In the midst of the siege Bacon resorted to one measure which for pure
originality has not been surpassed in the history of military tactics,
and which, though up to the present writing no other general
sufficiently picturesque in his methods to imitate it has arisen, has
furnished much "copy" for writers of historical romances.
The Rebel had the good fortune to capture two pieces of artillery, but a
dilemma arose as to how he should mount them without endangering the
lives of some of his men. His ingenious brain was quick to solve the
riddle. Dispatching some of his officers to the plantations near
Jamestown, he had them to bring into his camp Madam Bacon (the wife of
his cousin Nathaniel Bacon, Sr., President of the Council), Madam Bray,
Madam Page, Madam Ballard, and other ladies of the households of members
of his Majesty's Council who had remained loyal to the Governor. He then
sent one of these fair ones, under escort, into Jamestown, to let her
husband and the husbands of her companions know with what delicate and
precious material their audacious foe was strengthening his fort, and to
give them fair warning not to shoot. The remaining ladies (alas for the
age of chivalry!) he stationed in front of his breastworks and kept them
there until the captured "great guns" had been duly mounted; after
which he sent them all safely home.
Most truly was it said that Bacon "knit more knots by his own head in
one day than all the hands in town were able to untie in a whole week!"
So effectual a fortification did the glimmer of a few fluttering white
aprons upon his breastworks prove to be, that, as though confronted by a
line of warriors from Ghostland, the Governor's soldiers stood aghast,
and powerless to level a gun, while to add still further to their
discomfiture they had to bear with what grace they could command having
their ladies dubbed the "guardian angels" of the rebel camp.
The cannon mounted under such gentle protection were never given a
chance to prove their service.
Jamestown stood upon low ground, full of marshes and swamps. The
climate, at all times malarious and unhealthy, was at this season made
more so than usual by the hot September suns. There were no fresh water
springs, and the water from the wells was brackish and unwholesome,
making the place especially "improper for the commencement of a siege."
While the Governor had the advantage of numbers, and his men were fresh
and unwearied, Bacon had the greater advantage of motive. Sir William
Berkeley's soldiers were bent upon plunder, and when they found that the
Rebel's determined "hearts of gold" meant to keep them blocked up in
such comfortless quarters, and that the prospects were that there was
nothing to be gained in Sir William's service, they began to fall away
from him in such numbers that, upon the day after the placing of Bacon's
great guns, the old man found that there was nothing left for him but a
second flight. That night he, with the gentlemen who remained true to
him--about twenty in all--stole out of their stronghold in great
secrecy, and taking to the ships, "fell silently down the river." The
fleet came to anchor a few miles away, perhaps that those on board might
reoccupy the town again as soon as the siege should be raised, perhaps
that they might, in turn, block up the rebels in it if they should
quarter there.
Bacon found a way to thwart either design.
The first rays of morning light brought knowledge to the rebels that the
Governor had fled, and that they were free to take possession of the
deserted capital. That night, as Berkeley and his friends rocked on the
river below, doubtless straining eyes and ears toward Jamestown, and
eagerly awaiting news of Bacon's doings there, the sickening sight of
jets of flame leaping skyward through the darkness told them in signals
all too plain that the hospitable little city would shelter them
nevermore.
Filled with horror, they weighed anchor and sailed with as great speed
as the winds would vouchsafe to bear them out of James River and across
the Chesapeake's broad waters, where Governor Berkeley found, for a
second time, a haven of refuge upon the shores of Accomac County.
This great city of Jamestown, which though insignificant in number of
inhabitants and in the area it covered, was a truly great city, for its
achievements had been great, was thus laid low at the very height of
its modest magnificence and power. Though but little more than a half
century old, it was already historic Jamestown, for with its foundations
had been laid, in the virgin soil of a new world, the foundations of the
Anglo-Saxon home, the Anglo-Saxon religion, and Anglo-Saxon law. This
town, so small in size, so great in import, could proudly boast of a
brick church, "faire and large," twelve new brick houses and half a
dozen frame ones, with brick chimneys. There was also a brick state
house the foundations of which have lately been discovered.
The inhabitants are facetiously described by a writer of the time as for
the most part "getting their livings by keeping ordinaries at
_extra_-ordinary rates."
"Thoughtful Mr. Lawrence"--devoted Mr. Lawrence (whose silver plate the
Governor had not forgotten to carry off with him, for all his
leave-taking was so abrupt)--and Mr. Drummond heroically began the work
of ruin by setting the torch to their own substantial dwellings. The
soldiers were quick to follow this example, and soon all that remained
of Jamestown was a memory, a heap of ashes, and a smoke-stained church
tower, which still reaches heavenward and tells the wayfarer how the
most enduring pile the builders of that first little capital of Virginia
had heaped up was a Christian temple.
Mr. Drummond (to his honor be it said) rushed into the burning State
House and rescued the official records of the colony.
In a letter written the following February Sir William Berkeley said
that Bacon entered Jamestown and "burned five houses of mine and twenty
of other gentlemen's, and a very commodious church. They say he set to
with his own sacrilegious hand."
XIII.
"THE PROSPEROUS REBEL."
The firebrand's uncanny work complete, Bacon marched his men back to
"Green Spring" and quartered them there. That commodious plantation,
noted among other things for its variety of fruits and its delightful
spring water, must have been a welcome change from the trenches before
Jamestown, haunted by malaria and mosquitoes.
Comfortably established in Sir William Berkeley's own house, the Rebel's
next step was to draw up an oath of fidelity to the people's cause,
denouncing Sir William as a traitor and an enemy to the public good, and
again binding his followers to resist any forces that might be sent from
England until such time as his Majesty should "fully understand the
miserable case of the country, and the justice of our proceedings," and
if they should find themselves no longer strong enough to defend their
"lives and liberties," to quit the colony rather than submit to "any
such miserable a slavery" as they had been undergoing.
Though the "prosperous rebel," as the Royal Commissioners call Bacon,
had now everything his own way, his hour of triumph was marked by
dignity and moderation. Even those who opposed him bore witness that he
"was not bloodily inclined in the whole progress of this rebellion." He
had only one man--a deserter--executed, and even in that case he
declared that he would spare the victim if any single one of his
soldiers would speak a word to save him. The Royal Commissioners, who
had made a careful study of Bacon's character, expressed the belief that
he at last had the poor fellow's life taken, not from cruelty, but as a
wholesome object-lesson for his army.
He suggested an exchange of prisoners of war to Berkeley--offering the
Reverend John Clough (minister at Jamestown), Captain Thomas Hawkins,
and Major John West, in return for Captain Carver (of whose execution,
it seems, he had not heard), Bland, and Farloe. Governor Berkeley
scorned to consider the proposition, and instead of releasing the
gentlemen asked for, afterward sent the remaining two after the luckless
Captain Carver, although Bacon spared the lives of all those he had
offered in exchange, and though Mr. Bland's friends in England had
procured the King's pardon for him, which he pleaded at his trial was
even then in the Governor's pocket.
Though Bacon himself was never accused of putting any one to death in
cold blood, or of plundering any house, he found that the people began
to complain bitterly of the depredations, rudeness, and disorder of his
men. He therefore set a strict discipline over his army and became more
moderate than ever himself.
After a few days' rest at "Green Spring" the Rebel marched on to
Tindall's Point, Gloucester County, where he made the home of Colonel
Augustine Warner, Speaker of the House of Burgesses, his headquarters.
From there he sent out a notice to all the people of the county to meet
him at the court-house for the purpose of taking his oath.