IV THE STRUGGLE BETWEEN NATHANIEL BACON AND SIR WILLIAM BERKELEY
(Virginia, 1676)
I
There was great excitement in that part of the American colony of Virginia where Edmund Porter lived. It was in the month of May, 1676, and the place was the country just below the settlement of Henricus, on the James River, as one went down-stream toward the capital city of Jamestown. The Porters had a plantation not very far from Curles, which was the name of the place where their friend Nathaniel Bacon lived; and Nathaniel Bacon seemed to be the centre of the exciting events that were taking place.
Nathaniel Bacon was a young man, of a good family in England, who had come out to Virginia with his wife, and settled at Curles on the James. He had another estate farther up the river, a place called "Bacon Quarter Branch," where his overseer and servants looked after his affairs, and to which he could easily ride in a morning from his own home, or go in his barge on the James, unless he objected to being rowed seven miles around the peninsula at Dutch Gap. He was popular with his neighbors, and seemed as quiet as any of them until trouble with the Indians in the spring of that year made him declare that he was going to see whether the governor would protect the farms along the river, and if the governor wouldn't, then he had a mind to take the matter into his own hands.
Now Edmund, who was a well-grown boy of sixteen, wanted to be wherever there was excitement, and so spent as much time as he could at Curles. He was out in the meadow back of the house, watching one of the men break in a colt, when a messenger came with news that Indians had attacked Mr. Bacon's other estate; killed his overseer and one of his servants, and were carrying fire and bloodshed along the frontier. The news spread like wild-fire, as news of Indian raids always did, for there was nothing else so fear-inspiring to the white settlers. Edmund jumped on his pony, and rode home as fast as he could to tell his father. Then father and son, each taking a gun, with powder-horn and bullet-pouch, dashed back to Nathaniel Bacon's. Other planters had already gathered there, armed and ready to ride on the track of the Indians. There was much talk and debate; some wanted to know whether Governor Berkeley, down the river at Jamestown, would send soldiers to protect the plantations farther up the James; others wondered whether the governor, who was not very prompt or ready in dealing with the Indians in this far-off part of the colony, would be willing to commission the planters to take the war into their own hands. In the midst of all the talk Bacon himself appeared, and the crowd of horsemen called on him to take command, it being known he had often said openly that he intended to protect Curles and his other farms from the redskins.
Bacon agreed to lead his neighbors, but told them he thought it would be best to send a messenger to Sir William Berkeley, and ask for the governor's commission. A man was sent at once down the river to Jamestown, and the neighbors rode home to wait for the governor's answer. Next afternoon they met again at Curles, and heard the answer Sir William Berkeley sent. It was very polite, and spoke highly of Nathaniel Bacon and his neighbors. It further said that the times were very troubled, that the governor was anxious to keep on good terms with the Indians, and was afraid that the outcome of an attack on them might be dangerous, and urged Mr. Bacon, for his own good interests, not to ride against them. He did not actually refuse the commission that Bacon had asked for, but, what amounted to the same matter, he did not send it.
The horsemen were very angry. Sir William Berkeley, a man seventy years old, and safe at Jamestown, might care little what the Indians did, but the men whose plantations were threatened cared a great deal. Again they urged Bacon to lead them, and he, nothing loath now that he had set the matter fairly before the governor, jumped into his saddle and put himself at the head of the troop. All were armed, some had fought Indians before; in those days such a ride was not uncommon. A few boys rode with their fathers, and among them Edmund Porter.
Bacon's band rode fast, and were marching through the woods of Charles City when a messenger came dashing after them. The company stopped to hear him. He said that he came from Sir William, and that Sir William ordered the band to disperse, on pain of being treated as rebels against his authority. The message made it clear that they would ride on at their peril.
This threat cooled the ardor of some, but not of many. Bacon snapped his fingers at the governor's messenger, and rode on, with fifty-seven other followers. They were not the men to leave their frontiers unguarded, no matter what Sir William might call them.
Bacon led on to the Falls, and there he found the Indians entrenched on a hill. Several white men went forward to parley, but as they advanced an Indian in ambush fired a shot at the rear of the party, and their captain gave the word to attack. Edmund and a few others formed a rear-guard by the river, while the rest waded through a stream; climbed the slope; stormed and set fire to the Indian stockade, and so blew up a great store of powder that the red men had collected. The rout of the marauding Indians was complete, and when the fighting was over one hundred and fifty of them had been killed, with only a loss of three in Bacon's party. Victory had been won, the Indians were driven back to the mountains, leaving the plantations along the James safe, for some time at least. With a train of captives, Bacon and his neighbors rode homeward. The Porters went to their plantation, and the others scattered to their houses farther down the river. Edmund and his father thought the excitement was over, and everybody in the neighborhood had only words of the highest praise for the gallant Nathaniel Bacon.
Sir William Berkeley, however, was very angry, and he was a man of his word. He had sent his messenger to say that if Bacon marched against the Indians he should consider Bacon a rebel and the men who rode with him rebels as well. He meant to be master in Virginia, and therefore as soon as the news of what was called the Battle of Bloody Run came to him he made his plans to teach all rebellious colonists a lesson. He called for a company of officers and horsemen and set out hot foot, in spite of his seventy years, to capture the upstart Bacon and make an example of him.
But Sir William had not ridden far when disquieting news reached him. The people along the coast had heard how Bacon had sent to the governor for a commission and had been refused, and they also knew how he had fought the Indians in spite of the governor's warning. They were proud of him; they liked his dash and determination, and they meant to stand by him, no matter what Sir William might have to say.
The governor, who had always had his own way in Virginia, was thoroughly furious now. There were rebels before him, and rebels behind him, for that was the name he gave to all who dared to dispute his orders. But with the lower country in a blaze he didn't dare attend to Nathaniel Bacon then, so he ordered his troop of horse to countermarch, and galloped back to Jamestown as fast as he could go.
When he reached his capital he found it in a tumult; word came to him that all the counties along the lower James and the York Rivers had rebelled. It looked as if the colony were facing a civil war like the one that had broken out in England thirty years before. Then, realizing that this was no time for anger, but for cool, calm words, Sir William mended his manners. He didn't pour oil on the colonists' fire; instead he met their demands half-way. When the leaders of the colonists protested that the forts on the border were more apt to be a danger to them than a help, Sir William agreed that the forts should be dismantled. When the leaders said that the House of Burgesses, which was the name of the Virginia parliament, no longer represented the people, but in fact defied the people's will, Sir William answered that the House of Burgesses should be dissolved and the people given a chance to send new representatives to it. And the governor kept his word after the angry planters had gone back to their homes. He didn't want such a civil war in Virginia as the one that had cost King Charles the First his throne in England.
Sir William might have forgiven Nathaniel Bacon's disobedience, and forgotten all about it, but the owner of Curles Manor bobbed up into public notice again almost immediately. As soon as orders were sent out through the colony that new elections were to be held for the House of Burgesses, as the governor had promised, Bacon declared that he was a candidate to represent Henrico County. He was so popular now that when the election was held he was chosen by a very large vote. Many men voting for him who had no right to vote at all, according to the law, which said that only freeholders, or men who owned land, should have the right to vote in such a case. So now the man who had been called a rebel by the governor was going to Jamestown to sit in the House of Burgesses and help make laws for the colony. Many a man might have hesitated to do that, but not such a good fighter as Mr. Bacon.
The new burgesses were summoned to meet at Jamestown early that June, and they traveled there through the wilderness in many ways. Some rode on horseback, fording or swimming the numerous streams and rivers, for bridges were few, some came by coach, and some went down the river by barge or by sloop, the easiest way for those who lived near the James. Bacon chose the last way, and on a bright morning in June left his house at Curles, and with thirty neighbors sailed down the river. Mr. Porter and Edmund went with him, for the father had often promised his son to take him to Jamestown, and this seemed a good opportunity.
The voyage started pleasantly, but ended in disaster. Sir William now considered himself doubly flouted by this man from Curles, and vowed that the rebel Bacon should never sit in the new House of Burgesses. As the sloop came quietly sailing down to Jamestown a ship that was lying at anchor in front of the town trained its cannon on the smaller vessel, and the sheriff, who was on board the ship, sent men to the sloop to arrest Bacon and certain of his friends. There was no use in resisting; the cannon could blow the sloop out of the water at a word. Bacon surrendered to the sheriff's men, and he and the others who were wanted were landed and marched up to the State House, while Edmund Porter and the others rowed themselves ashore, wondering what was going to happen to their friend.
Governor Berkeley was at the State House when Bacon was brought in. Each of the two men was quick-tempered and haughty, but they managed to keep their anger out of their words. Sir William said coldly, "Mr. Bacon, have you forgot to be a gentleman?"
Bacon answered in the same tone, "No, may it please your honor."
"Then," said Sir William, "I'll take your parole."
That was all that was said, and Bacon was released on his word as a gentleman that he would do no more mischief. Doubtless the haughty governor would have liked to lodge the other man in jail, but he didn't dare attempt that, for the newly elected burgesses were reaching Jamestown every hour. Further almost all of them were known to side with Bacon, and in addition the town was fast filling with planters from the counties along the river that had revolted against the governor. So for the second time that spring Sir William saw the advantage of bending his stiff pride in order to ride out the storm.
The governor knew, however, that Bacon would be a thorn in his side unless he could be made to bend the knee to his own authority. So Sir William went to Bacon's cousin, a man who was very rich and prominent in the colony, and a member of the governor's council. He urged this man, who was known as Colonel Nathaniel Bacon, Senior, to go to his cousin, Nathaniel, Junior, and try to induce him to yield to Sir William's wishes. Colonel Bacon agreed, and was so successful with his arguments that the younger man, proud and headstrong as he was, at last consented to write out a statement, admitting that he had been in the wrong in disobeying Sir William Berkeley's orders, and to read it on his knees before the members of the Assembly, which was another name for the House of Burgesses. This was a great victory for the governor. Events had followed one another fast. In the space of little more than a week the owner of Curles Plantation had been proclaimed a rebel, had marched against the Indians and beaten them, had been a candidate for the House of Burgesses and been elected, had sailed down to Jamestown, been arrested, and paroled, and was now to admit on his knees that he had indeed been a rebel.
On June 5, 1676, Bacon went to the State House. The governor and his council sat with the burgesses, and Sir William Berkeley spoke to them about recent border fights between Virginians and Indians. He denounced the killing of six Indian chiefs in Maryland, who, he said, had come to treat of peace with white soldiers, and he added, "If they had killed my grandfather and grandmother, my father and mother and all my friends, yet if they had come to treat of peace, they ought to have gone in peace."
Sir William sat down; then after a few minutes stood up again. "If there be joy in the presence of the angels over one sinner that repenteth," said he, with solemn humor, "there is joy now, for we have a penitent sinner come before us. Call Mr. Bacon."
Bacon came in, and knelt down before the governor and his council and his fellow Virginians. He read from a paper he held, confessing that he had been guilty of "unlawful, mutinous, and rebellious practices," and promised that if the governor would pardon him he would act "dutifully, faithfully, and peaceably," under a penalty of two thousand pounds sterling. He pledged his whole estate for his good behavior for one year.
When Bacon had finished, Sir William said, "God forgive you; I forgive you." And to make the words more impressive he repeated them three times.
"And all that were with him," said Colonel Cole, a member of the council, meaning the men who had rebelled with Bacon and fought the Indians.
"Yes, and all that were with him," the governor agreed. Then Sir William added, "Mr. Bacon, if you will live civilly but till next quarter-day,—but till next quarter-day," he repeated the words, "I'll promise to restore you to your place there!" and he pointed to the seat which Bacon had sometimes occupied during meetings of the council.
All was peace again; the black sheep had repented and been allowed to return to the fold. It was generally understood that in return for Bacon's apology the governor would now give him the commission he had asked for before, the commission as "General of the Indian Wars," which would allow him to protect outlying plantations against Indian raids. Sir William pardoned the rebel on Saturday, and "General Bacon," as many people in Jamestown already spoke of him, took up his lodgings at the house of a Mr. Lawrence, there to wait until his expected commission should be sent him early the next week. Mr. Porter and his son, and many of the friends who had come in Bacon's sloop, took rooms at near-by houses, for their leader might be going back to Curles as soon as he had his commission, and they wanted to go with him.
Monday came and Tuesday, but no commission arrived from Sir William. On Wednesday there was no message for Bacon from the governor. Instead rumors began to spread abroad. Mr. Lawrence, who had an old grudge against Sir William, was reported to be busy with some plot against him; men of doubtful reputation were seen about the house, and it was whispered that possibly there might be further trouble. Edmund heard these rumors; he knew that there were men in Jamestown who wanted Nathaniel Bacon to defy the governor, and he kept his eyes and ears wide open. Then one morning, as he and his father came out from the house where they were staying, they met a crowd of their friends. "Bacon is fled!" cried these men. "Bacon is fled!"
Edmund listened to the excited words. Sir William had been frightened as he heard that more and more planters were flocking into Jamestown, he doubted that Bacon meant to keep his word, he knew that Lawrence's house was a hot-bed of disorder, and he determined that he would crush any rebellion before it got a start, and put the popular leader where he could do no harm. Bacon's cousin, the colonel, who was fond of his kinsman, though he disapproved of what he had done, had sent word the night before to Nathaniel, bidding him fly for his life. At daybreak the governor's officers had gone to Lawrence's house; but the man they wanted was gone; he had fled into the country, wisely heeding his cousin's warning.
"Bacon is fled!" were the words that sped through Jamestown that June morning. And many who heard the words were glad, for now they hoped that the rebel would raise a force and overthrow Sir William, who had made many enemies in his long and strict rule as governor. Men stole away from the capital in twos and threes, some by the river, more on horseback through the country. They were afraid to stay lest Berkeley should put them in irons as partisans of Bacon's. Mr. Porter found a man with horses to sell, bought two, and with his son rode out of Jamestown before noon. West along the river bank they galloped. Bacon would make for Henrico County, and there they wanted to join him. "And I may ride with you and General Bacon, father?" Edmund begged.
"I don't know," said the father. "This may be more serious business than looking after the rear-guard in a skirmish with Indians."
"But I'm almost a man, father," Edmund urged. "And even if I didn't fight, there's other things I could do."
"I hope there'll be no fighting. It's bad when settlers turn their guns against each other. We'll have to wait till we find Nat, Edmund, and learn what he's going to do. If it's a fight it's a fight for liberty and the safety of our homes. The governor's wrong; he hasn't treated us fair."
All that day they rode through the river country, and wherever they came to settlements they found armed men mounting, for the news had spread rapidly that Nathaniel Bacon was raising an army to fight the governor.
II
From big plantations and from small farms, from manor-houses in the lowlands and from log cabins in the uplands, grown men and half-grown boys, armed with guns or swords, hurried to join General Bacon, who was sending out his call for recruits from his headquarters up the James River. The colonists were a hardy lot, used to hunting and fighting, and well pleased now at the prospect of upsetting the tyrannical governor at Jamestown. Within three days after Bacon's escape from the capital he was at the head of about six hundred men, stirring them with his speeches, for he was a very fine and fiery orator, until they were ready to follow wherever he led. The Porters, father and son, succeeded in joining his ranks, and when the young commander set out on his march to Jamestown they rode among his men.
What was Sir William Berkeley doing meantime? Bacon was a fighter, but the white-haired governor was a fighter also. He sent riders from Jamestown to summon what were called the "train-bands" of York and Gloucester, counties that lay along Chesapeake Bay and the Atlantic Ocean. But the spirit of rebellion had spread from the plantations along the James down to the seaboard settlements, and only a hundred soldiers, and not all of them very loyal to the governor, answered his summons. They marched so slowly that Bacon reached Jamestown before they were in sight of the town. At two in the afternoon the rebel leader entered the capital at the head of his men and drew up his troops on the green, not an arrow's flight from the State House where he had knelt for the governor's pardon less than ten days before.
At his order his men sentineled the roads, seized all the firearms they could find, and disarmed or arrested all men coming into Jamestown by land or river, except such as joined their own ranks.
The little capital was in a turmoil. Sir William and his council sat in a room at the State House, debating what course to take. They ordered a drummer to summon the burgesses, and those burgesses who were not already in Bacon's army came trooping to the State House. It seemed as if war was to break out then and there. Bacon marched across the green with a file of fusileers on either side, and reached the corner of the State House. Sir William and his council came out, and the two leaders fronted one another, Bacon fairly cool and collected, but the aged governor raging at this affront to his dignity.
Sir William walked up to Bacon, and tearing open the lace at the breast of his coat, cried angrily, "Here! Shoot me! 'Fore God, a fair mark—shoot!"
Bacon answered calmly, "No, may it please your honor; we will not hurt a hair of your head, nor of any other man's. We are come for a commission to save our lives from the Indians, which you have so often promised, and now we will have it before we go."
But though his words were mild, Bacon was really very angry. As the governor, still raging and shaking his fist, turned and walked back to the State House with his council, Bacon followed him with his soldiers, one hand on his sword-hilt, the other threatening Berkeley. As the governor and council continued their retreat, Bacon and his men grew more threatening. The leader shook his fist, the fusileers cocked their guns. And as they came to the windows of the room where the burgesses sat some of the soldiers pointed their guns at the men inside, shouting again and again, "We will have it! We will have it!"
Presently one of the burgesses waved his handkerchief from the window, and called out, "You shall have it! You shall have it!" by which he meant the commission that Bacon wanted. The soldiers uncocked their guns, and stood back, waiting further orders from their leader. Bacon had grown as angry meantime as the governor had been before, and had cried, "I'll kill governor, council, Assembly and all, and then I'll sheathe my sword in my own heart's blood." And it was afterward said that Bacon had ordered his men, if he drew his sword, to fire on the burgesses. But the handkerchief waved from the window, and the words, "You shall have it!" calmed him somewhat, and soon afterward he went into the State House and discussed the matter fully with Sir William and his council.
Later that same day Bacon went to the room of the burgesses and repeated his request for a commission. The speaker answered that it was "Not in their province, or power, nor of any other save the king's vicegerent, their governor, to grant it." Bacon replied by saying that the purpose of his coming to Jamestown was to secure some safe way of protecting the settlers from the Indians, to reduce the very heavy taxes, and to right the calamities that had come upon the country. The burgesses gave him no definite answer, and he left, much dissatisfied. Next day, however, Sir William and his council yielded, Nathaniel Bacon was appointed general and commander-in-chief against the Indians, and pardon was granted to him and all his followers for their acts against the Indians in the west.
This was a great triumph for the rebel leader. Berkeley hated and feared him as much as ever, but had seen that he must pocket his pride in the face of such a popular uprising.
The owner of Curles Plantation was now commander-in-chief of the Virginia troops, and although it was intended that he should use his army only in defending the colony from Indian attacks, it was generally believed that he could do whatever he wished with his men. The colony was practically under his absolute control. The colonists would do whatever he ordered, and as they hailed Bacon's leadership they paid less and less heed to Sir William Berkeley. And the governor, knowing that many adventurers, many men of doubtful reputation, and many who were his own enemies, were now much in Bacon's company, feared for their influence on the impulsive young commander.
Having seen their neighbor win his commission, Mr. Porter and Edmund rode back to their own plantation, and took up the work that was always waiting to be done in summer. They were busy, and heard only from time to time of what Nathaniel was doing. They knew he was planning to take the field against the Indians with a good-sized troop of men.
Full of energy, and eager to show the colony that he was in truth a great commander, Bacon made his headquarters near West Point, at the head of the York River, a place frequently called "De la War," from Lord Delaware, who belonged to the West family. He disarmed all the men who opposed his command, and then set out, with an army of between five hundred and a thousand men, to attack the Indians in the neighborhood of the head waters of the Pamunkey. His scouts scoured the woods and drove out all hostile Indians; he cleared that part of the frontier of red men, and in a short time had made the border plantations safer than they had ever been before. He had justified all his friends had said of him, he had acted as a loyal Virginian, and he had proved his worth as general-in-chief of the colony's army.
Edmund Porter, going to the store at the crossroads on a July day, heard men discussing news that had just come from Jamestown. The rumor was that, despite Nathaniel Bacon's success as a commander, Sir William Berkeley had again denounced him as a rebel and traitor, and had fled to York River and set up his banner there not only as governor, but as general also. The report proved true. Sir William had nursed his anger for a short time, and now it flamed forth afresh and even more bitterly than before. In spite of Bacon's success he was still a rebel in the governor's eyes; he had forced the Assembly at Jamestown to do his bidding, and had acted as if the colony belonged to Bacon and his followers, and not to the king of England and the royal officers. This matter the governor meant to decide when he flew his flag at York River and summoned all loyal Virginians to come to his aid. Some came; there were many planters who honestly believed that Berkeley was in the right and Bacon in the wrong; but the great mass of the people sided with the latter, and it began to look as if Sir William might still call himself the governor, but would find that he had no people to govern.
Then, when the old Cavalier, proud in his defeat as the Cavaliers of England had been when the Roundheads beat them in battle after battle, was beginning to see his men desert him, a messenger came post-haste from Gloucester County, to the north of the York River, with word that the planters there were still loyal to the king's governor, and begged him to come to their county and to protect them from the Indians. The loyalists of Gloucester, some of whom Bacon had disarmed, were ready to rally round Sir William.
Sir William was overjoyed; he went to Gloucester at once, he flew his flag there, and called all loyalists to join him. Twelve hundred people came on the day Sir William set. But, with the exception of the wealthy planters who had sent the message, even these men of Gloucester were unwilling to take the field against General Bacon, as Sir William wanted. Some of them said that Bacon was fighting the common enemy, the Indians, with great success, and that as good Virginians they ought to help, and not to hinder, his work. The governor urged and argued with them, but as he talked men began to leave, muttering "Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!" as they went. A short stay showed that Sir William was not to find, even in Gloucester, the support he wished. Where could he go? There was one place where men might yet listen to him, the distant country that was sometimes called the "Kingdom of Accomac." It lay across Chesapeake Bay, remote from the rest of Virginia. The governor took ship and sailed across the thirty miles that divided it from the mainland, a romantic, apparently defeated figure, like some of the English Royalists who fled before the victorious troops of Oliver Cromwell.
On July 29, 1676, Berkeley posted his proclamation, declaring that Nathaniel Bacon was a traitor and outlaw. Bacon heard the news as he was in camp on the upper waters of the James. He was hurt at what he felt was the governor's injustice to him. To a friend he said, "It vexes me to the heart to think that while I am hunting wolves, tigers, and foxes (meaning Indians), which daily destroy our harmless sheep and lambs, that I and those with me should be pursued with a full cry, as a more savage or a no less ravenous beast."
The general marched his men down the river, arresting such as were known to side with the governor, but leaving their property unharmed. Presently he made his quarters at Middle-Plantation, which was situated half-way between Jamestown and the York River. Here his riders bivouacked around the small group of houses that formed the settlement, and their commander set to work to try to bring some sort of order out of the tangle into which Virginia had fallen. Sir William Berkeley was away in the distant country of Accomac, a country that was hardly looked upon at that time as part of Virginia, and Bacon was to all intents now the governor as well as the general-in-chief. Some of his friends advised him to do one thing, some another. Mr. Drummond, an old enemy of Berkeley's, who knew what Sir William thought of him, and who had once said of himself as a rebel, "I am in, over shoes; I will be over boots," now advised Bacon to proclaim that Berkeley was deposed from the governorship and that Sir Henry Chicheley should rule in his place. But Bacon would not go so far as that; he was quick-tempered, but fairly cool when it came to planning action, and he knew that to overthrow Sir William would make him clearly a rebel in the eyes of England.
So, instead of acting rashly, he issued what he called a "Remonstrance," which protested against Sir William's calling him and his men traitors and rebels, when they were really faithful subjects of His Majesty the King of England, and had only taken up arms to protect themselves against the savages. Besides that, he complained that the colony was not well managed, and called on all who were interested in Virginia to meet at Middle-Plantation on August 3d, and make a formal protest to the English king and Parliament.
Many men met at the village on that day, four members of the governors council among them. Bacon made a fiery speech, and all agreed to pledge themselves not to aid Sir William Berkeley in any attack on General Bacon or his army. Then Bacon went further; he asked the meeting to promise that each and every man there would rise in arms against Sir William if he should try to resist General Bacon, and further that if any soldiers should be sent from England to aid Sir William each man there would fight such troops until they had a chance to explain matters to the king of England.
That was going too far; the men had no desire to rebel against their king. They were willing to sign the first pledge, but not the second. In the midst of their arguing Bacon interrupted angrily. "Then I will surrender my commission, and let the country find some other servant to go abroad and do its work!" he exclaimed. "Sir William Berkeley hath proclaimed me a rebel, and it is not unknown to himself that I both can and shall charge him with no less than treason!" He added that Governor Berkeley would never forgive them for signing either part of the pledge, and that they might as well sign both as one. Then into the stormy meeting rushed a gunner from York Fort, shouting out that the Indians were marching on his fort, that the governor had taken all the arms from the fort, and that he had no protection for all the people who had fled there from the woods of Gloucester in fear of the Indians' tomahawks.
The gunner's words settled the matter. All the men agreed to sign the whole pledge, promised to fight not only Sir William Berkeley but the king's troops as well if they came to Virginia to support him. The oath was taken, the paper signed by the light of torches near midnight on that third day of August, 1676. Just a hundred years later another Declaration of Independence was to be signed by men, some from this same colony of Virginia, in Independence Hall in Philadelphia.
The next business was to organize a new government, and Bacon sent word through the colony for men to choose representatives to meet early in September. Then the general marched off with his army to protect the people who had fled to York Fort, and try to finish his war with the Indians.
There was great rejoicing throughout the length and breadth of Virginia when news came to town and plantation that Nathaniel Bacon had set up a new government in place of the old one that had failed to protect the colony and that had suppressed the people's liberty. They gloried in their defiance of the royal governor. Sarah Drummond, the wife of Bacon's friend, said to her neighbors:
"The child that is unborn shall have cause to rejoice for the good that will come by the rising of the country!"
One of her neighbors objected, "We must expect a greater power from England that will certainly be our ruin."
Mrs. Drummond picked up a stick, and breaking it in two, said scornfully, "I fear the power of England no more than a broken straw!"
And when others shook their heads doubtfully, she said bravely, "We will do well enough!" That was the feeling of most of the people. They were back of Bacon, and pledged themselves to support him through thick and thin.
At the plantation near Curles Mr. Porter brought the news of the oath at Middle-Plantation to his family, and his wife and son and the men and women who worked for him celebrated the event as a great victory for all true Virginians.
Meantime General Bacon crossed the James River, attacked the Appomattox Indians, and killed or routed the whole tribe. He then marched along the south side of the river toward the Nottoway and Roanoke, scattered all the Indians he met, and ultimately returned north to West Point, where he dismissed all his army but a small detachment, bidding the others go back to their own plantations to harvest the autumn crops.
Scarcely had the men of Bacon's army reached their homes when a new message electrified the whole countryside. From man to man the news ran that Sir William Berkeley, with seventeen ships and a thousand men, had come back from far-away Accomac, had sailed up the James River, had taken possession of Jamestown, and was now flying his flag above the State House there.
III
Sir William Berkeley had met few friends in that distant country of Accomac when he had first flown there. Rebellion was in the air there as it was on the mainland of Virginia, and only a few of the planters of the eastern shore welcomed the king's governor and agreed to stand by him in his fight with Nathaniel Bacon. Still he stuck to his determination to try conclusions with the rebels, and meantime he waited as patiently as he could, hoping that the tide of fortune would presently turn in his favor.
General Bacon, when he set out from Middle-Plantation to fight the Indians, sent Giles Bland to keep Governor Berkeley in Accomac, and, if possible, to induce the people there to surrender him. Giles Bland started on his mission with two hundred and fifty men, and one ship with four guns, commanded by an old sailor, Captain Carver. One ship was not enough, however, to carry the men across to the Eastern Shore, and so Bland seized another that happened to be lying in the York River, and that belonged to Captain Laramore, a friend of Governor Berkeley. Captain Laramore was seized by Bland's men, and locked up in his cabin, but after a time he sent word to Bland that he would fight with him against the governor, and Bland, thinking that the captain was sincere, restored command of the vessel to him. Two more ships were captured, and so it was a fleet of four vessels that ultimately carried the rebel party to the Eastern Shore.
When he saw this fleet nearing Accomac Sir William gave up his cause as lost. He knew that he must surrender, as King Charles the First of England had surrendered to Oliver Cromwell's men. Then suddenly a loophole of escape offered itself most unexpectedly. Captain Laramore, still very angry with the rebels for having seized his ship in such a high-handed manner, secretly sent word to Sir William, that if assistance were given him he would betray Giles Bland. The fleet was at anchor, and Captain Carver had gone ashore to try to find the governor. Laramore's offer looked as if it might be a trap, but Colonel Philip Ludwell, a friend of Berkeley's, offered to vouch for Laramore's honesty and moreover to lead the party that was to capture Bland. Sir William agreed to this offer, and Colonel Ludwell got ready a boat in a near-by creek, out of sight of the fleet. At the time set by Laramore Colonel Ludwell's crew rowed out toward Laramore's ship. Bland thought he came to parley, and did not fire. The boat pulled under the ship's stern, one of Ludwell's men leaped on board, and aiming a pistol at Bland's breast, cried, "You're my prisoner!" The crew of the rowboat followed, and with the help of Laramore and those sailors who sided with him, quickly captured the rebels on board. When Captain Carver returned he and his crew were seized in the same way, and Colonel Ludwell and Laramore took Bland and Carver and their officers ashore and presented them to Sir William as his prisoners.
Sir William was stern in dealing with men he considered traitors. He put Giles Bland and his officers in chains, and he hung Captain Carver on the beach of Accomac. This victory won him recruits also among the longshoremen, and now one of his own followers, Captain Gardener, reached the harbor in his ship, the Adam-and-Eve, with ten or twelve sloops he had captured along the coast. Counting Bland's ships the governor now had a fleet numbering some seventeen sail, and on these he embarked his army of nearly a thousand men. Many of them were merely adventurers, lured by Sir William's promise to give them the estates that belonged to the men who had taken the oath with Bacon at Middle-Plantation. Sir William also proclaimed that the servants of all those who were fighting under Bacon's flag should have the property of their masters if they would enlist under the king's standard.
The governor set sail for Jamestown, and reached it on the sixth day of September. One of the bravest of Bacon's commanders, Colonel Hansford, held the town with eight or nine hundred men. The governor called on Hansford to surrender, promising pardon to all except his old enemies, Lawrence and Drummond, who were then in Jamestown. Hansford refused to surrender, but Lawrence and Drummond advised him to retreat with his army, and so he evacuated the town during the night. At noon next day Sir William landed, and kneeling, gave thanks for his safe return to his former capital.
Colonel Hansford, with Drummond and Lawrence, rode north to find General Bacon. They found him at West Point and told him the startling news that Sir William had come back with an army. The fight was to be waged all over again, the question whether Bacon or Berkeley was to rule Virginia was yet to be settled.
Bacon had only a body-guard with him, but he mounted in haste and rode toward Jamestown, sending couriers in all directions to rouse the countryside and bring his men to his flag. The message came to Curles, and Edmund Porter and his father and their neighbors armed and hurried to join their general. So swiftly did the planters take to horse that by the time Bacon was in sight of Jamestown he was followed by several hundred men.
Sir William had built an earthwork and palisade across the neck of the island where Jamestown stands. Bacon ordered his trumpets to sound, and then a volley to be fired into the town. No guns answered his, and Bacon ordered his troops to throw up breastworks in front of the palisade, while he made his headquarters at "Greenspring," a house that belonged to Sir William.
Now Bacon, although usually a gentleman, resorted to a trick that was a blot on his character. He sent horsemen through the near-by country to bring the wives of some of the men who were fighting on Berkeley's side into his camp. He sent one of these women, under a flag of truce, into the town to tell her husband and the others there that Bacon meant to place these wives in front of his own men while they were building the earthworks, so that any shots fired would hit the women first. This he did. He made these women stand as a shield before his men. The governor's party would not fire a shot. The earthworks were finished, and then Bacon had the women escorted to a place of safety. The trick savored more of the customs of some of the Indian tribes the settlers had been fighting than of the warfare of Virginia gentlemen.
When the women were gone, Sir William burst out of Jamestown with eight hundred men and attacked Bacon's troopers. But the rabble that made up the governor's army, longshoremen, fishermen from Accomac, a rabble attracted by the hope of plunder, was no match for the well-drilled and well-armed planters. At the first touch of steel they turned and fled back to the town, leaving a dozen wounded on the ground. Sir William lashed them with a tongue of scorn, but his anger did no good. He saw that he could not rely on this new following, and so embarked on his ships again that night, and sailed away from Jamestown.
Bacon marched in, took counsel with his officers, and determined that Sir William should make no further use of his capital. Orders were given to set fire to all the houses, and shortly the town, founded by that great adventurer, John Smith, was only a mass of burned and blackened timbers.
Sir William had sailed down the river, but a courier from York County brought word that a force of his friends were advancing from the direction of the Potomac to attack Bacon's men. So, when Jamestown was only ruins, the general left that place and marched at the head of his horsemen to meet this new enemy. He was as full of courage as ever, but he had caught a fever in the trenches before Jamestown, and instead of stopping to cure it he insisted on pushing on and trying to settle matters with his opponents as soon as possible.
His men crossed the York in boats at Ferry Point and marched into Gloucester. There Bacon called on all the men of Gloucester who had taken the oath with him at Middle-Plantation to join him promptly. Another courier arrived, with word that Colonel Brent was coming against him with a thousand soldiers. Bacon did not wait for any more recruits, but marched at once up country in the direction of the Rappahannock River. But there was to be no fighting. The spirit of rebellion had spread so far that even Colonel Brent's men, supposed to be very loyal to the governor, deserted to Bacon's standard, and Brent himself, with a few faithful followers, had to retire from the field, and leave the rebel chief in entire command.
Bacon went back to Gloucester, and again summoned the men of that county to meet him at the court-house. Six or seven hundred came, but they did not want to fulfil their pledge and take up arms, it might be against the king's own soldiers. They said that they wanted to take no sides in the matter. Bacon insisted that they should pledge themselves to follow him. The fever had hold of him, his temper was short, and he spoke in such a domineering way that at last the men of Gloucester gave him the pledge he wanted. Having had his way Bacon closed the meeting, and, seeing that all the mainland of Virginia was now under his control, laid plans to follow Sir William Berkeley to Accomac, where the governor had fled again.
But now Nathaniel Bacon, at the very moment when he had driven all his enemies out of the colony, and had made himself the master of Virginia, fell very ill of the fever he had brought from Jamestown. His old friends, Mr. Porter among them, urged him to give up command of his army and rest. In spite of his wish to go to Accomac and settle accounts with Berkeley, he had to take their advice. He went to the house of a friend, Major Pate, in Gloucester, and there, after a few weeks' illness, he died, in October, 1676.
Sorrowing for their brave leader and friend, Mr. Porter and Edmund went back to their plantation on the James. They had stood by him when he needed their aid, but, in spite of all the exciting events of that summer, they had not had to take part in any actual fighting except the brief battle with the Indians in May and the short skirmish outside Jamestown. Neither father nor son were known as officers in Bacon's army, and as they stayed quietly at home the storm that followed blew safely over their heads.
In four months Nathaniel Bacon had risen from the position of a little-known planter to be the ruler of Virginia, and because the king's governor would not give him a commission to march against the Indians who had attacked his farm he had driven the governor out of the colony. It was a remarkable story, packed full of strange happenings.
When Bacon died, however, the rebellion fell to pieces. A man named Ingram tried to rally his army, but the men of Virginia would not fight under any other leader than Bacon. Sir William Berkeley came back from the county of Accomac with a wolfish thirst for vengeance. His chief enemy had escaped him, but he meant to take his revenge on the other leaders of the rebellion against him. And take his revenge he did, not like an honorable governor who wishes to make peace in his country, but more like that Judge Jeffreys in England, whose name became a byword for cruelty. He captured Colonel Hansford, who was a fine Virginian, and hung him as a rebel. Lawrence escaped, but Drummond was caught in his hiding-place in the Chickahominy swamp, and brought before Sir William.
"Mr. Drummond," said the governor, "you are very welcome! I am more glad to see you than any man in Virginia. Mr. Drummond, you shall be hanged in half an hour!"
"When your Honor pleases," Drummond coolly replied.
Drummond was hung, and his brave wife, who had broken the stick to show how easily the planters could defeat Sir William, was driven into the wilderness with her children.
Bland was found in Accomac and executed. Men were hung in almost every county, and the settlers hated the name of Berkeley more than they hated raiding Indians. In all Sir William executed twenty-three rebels, as he called them, and King Charles II of England, when he heard the report, said indignantly, "That old fool has hanged more men in that naked country than I have done for the murder of my father."
At last the Assembly begged the governor to stop. He reluctantly agreed that all the rest of the rebels should be pardoned except about fifty leaders. The property of these leaders was confiscated, and they were sent away from the colony.
Sir William, however, was no longer popular with any in Virginia. Soon afterward he sailed to England, and never came back again to the colony he had ruled with an iron hand. Salutes were fired and bonfires blazed when he sailed, for the people were all still rebels at heart. Other governors came from England, but they found the Virginians harder to rule since they had tasted independence in that summer of 1676.
By many boys of Virginia, like Edmund Porter, Nathaniel Bacon was always remembered as a gallant hero, one who had fought for them against the tyranny of Sir William Berkeley.