Governor Berkeley himself had no faith in the friendship of the Indians, however. While Bacon was gone upon his expedition against the Ockinagees, the Governor sent forces under Colonel Claiborne and others to the headwaters of Pamunkey River. They found there the Pamunkey Indians established in a fort in the Dragon Swamp—probably somewhere between the present Essex and King and Queen Counties. The red men said that they had fled to this stronghold for fear of Bacon, but their explanation did not satisfy the Governor, who declared that as soon as his difficulty with Bacon was settled he would advance upon the fort himself. The Queen of Pamunkey herself was in the fort, and when requested by Berkeley to return to

her usual place of residence said "she most willingly would return to be under the Governor's protection, but that she did understand the Governor and those gentlemen could not protect themselves from Mr. Bacon's violence."

At the "freshes of York" Bacon was met and joined by "all the northern forces from Potomac, Rappahannock, and those parts," under the command of Colonel Giles Brent, and the two armies marched together to the plantations farthest up York River, where they were brought to an enforced rest by rainy weather, which continued for several days. Even this dismal interruption could not chill Bacon's ardor, but it filled him with anxiety lest the delay should cause his provisions to run short.

Calling his men together he told them frankly of his fears, and gave all leave to return to their homes whose regard for food was stronger than their courage and resolution to put down the savages, and revenge the blood of their friends and neighbors shed by them. He bade them (if there were any such) with all speed begone,

for, said he, he knew he would find them the "worst of cowards, serving for number and not for service," starving his best men, who were willing to "bear the brunt of it all," and disheartening others of "half mettle."

In response to this speech, only three of the soldiers withdrew, and these were disarmed and sent home.

The sullen clouds at length lifted, and the army tramped joyfully onward. Ere long they struck into an Indian trail, leading to a wider one, and supposed from this that they must be near the main camp of some tribe. Some scouts were sent out, but reported only a continuation of the wide path through the woods. The army broke ranks and, to save time, and make the rough march under the sultry August sun as little uncomfortable as possible, followed the trail at random. They soon came in sight of a settlement of the Pamunkey tribe, standing upon a point of high land, surrounded upon three sides by a swamp.

Some ten Indian scouts who served Bacon's army were sent ahead to

reconnoiter. The Pamunkeys, seeing the scouts, suffered them to come within range of their guns, and then opened fire upon them. The report of the guns gave the alarm to Bacon and his troops, who were about half a mile distant, and who marched in great haste and confusion to the settlement. The Indians took refuge in the edge of the swamp, which was so miry that their pursuers could not follow, and the only result of the chase, to the Englishmen, was the not over-glorious feat of killing a woman and capturing a child.

It so happened that the "good Queen of Pamunkey," as the "Royal Commissioners" styled her, with some of her chiefs and friends, was in the neighborhood of the settlement. Being warned that Bacon and his men were coming, she took fright and fled, leaving behind her provisions and Indian wares, as a peace offering, and charging her subjects that if they saw any "pale faces" coming they must "neither fire a gun nor draw an arrow upon them." The "pale faces," in their chase, overtook an aged squaw who had been the "good