Bacon's Rebellion, 1676

by Thomas Jefferson Wertenbaker

For the moment the old spirit which had made him so ardent a fighter in the English Civil War and in the battles against Opechancanough flared anew in Governor Berkeley. Calling together a force of horse and foot, he placed them under the command of Sir Henry Chicheley with orders to pursue the murderers. But when all was ready and Chicheley was expecting the order to march Berkeley changed his mind, withdrew his commission and disbanded his forces.

This sudden change has long puzzled historians. Berkeley himself had taken the lead in carrying the war to the enemy following the massacre of 1644; why did he hang back now? It may have been the offer of peace from the new chief of the Susquehannocks, which Sir William was willing to accept but which the Indians themselves ignored. It may have been the fear that Chicheley's men might not discriminate between friend and foe and by attacking some of the allied Indians involve them in the war. He stated later that he would have preserved those Indians so that they could be his "spies and intelligence to find out the more bloody enemies." Certainly in this he was foreshadowing the policy followed by his successors for more than a century. But it did not justify leaving the frontier open to attack, while the murders and torturing continued.

It is not necessary to accept the accusation of Bacon and his followers that Berkeley adopted this policy so as not to interfere with the beaver trade. It might have been effective had not the Pamunkeys, the Appomatox, and other nearby tribes been dissatisfied and resentful. As it was, the governor was soon obliged to abandon it. "As soon as I had the least intelligence that they were our treacherous enemies I have given out commissions to destroy them all," he said. To Colonel Goodrich, when he was about to lead an expedition up the Rappahannock, he wrote: "I believe all the Indians, our neighbors, are engaged with the Susquehannocks, therefore I desire you to spare none ... for they are all our enemies."

Berkeley blamed Bacon and his men for the defection of the allied Indians. It was they, he said, who had driven them out of their towns and forced them "to live remote in the woods." It was only then, when they became desperate through hunger, that they joined in the raids on the English. One can never be certain which side started hostilities. Probably both were to blame. But Berkeley did not stop to consider that the fault was basically his own. Had he not granted all the best lands in the east to his favorites, poor planters would not have had to encroach on the Indian reservations, in which case the Indians might have remained peaceful, and even fought side by side with the English against the Susquehannocks.

After recalling the expedition under Chicheley, Berkeley remained inactive until, in February, he received word that the Indians had made new raids. Then he summoned the Assembly. Several weeks passed before they convened, since it took time to reach the Burgesses who lived in the distant counties, and for them to travel, perhaps by boat, down the Potomac or the Rappahannock, and up the James to Jamestown. At last, on March 7, the session opened.

Berkeley had determined on a defensive war, and the Assembly obediently carried out his wishes. So they declared war on all Indians who were known to have taken part in the murderous raids, provided for the enlistment of friendly Indians, called out a force of 500 men, prohibited trade in firearms with the savages, and ordered the erection of eight forts on the frontiers.

This policy might have been successful had Berkeley made the forts bases for expeditions against the enemy. The Indians seem to have made their raids in small parties, and with rangers spying upon them, forces could have rushed out from the nearest fort to intercept or pursue them. In fact this seems to have been Berkeley's original plan. The spread of hostilities "puts us on an absolute necessity not only of fortifying our frontiers more strongly, but of keeping several considerable parties of both horse and foot still in motion to confront them wherever they shall attack us," he wrote in a report to the English government late in March.

Berkeley stated that the forts served their purpose well. "In April and May we lost not one man," he stated. But this Bacon and his men denied. Even when a garrison received word that Indians were near, they were not permitted to pursue them until they had notified the governor, who might be fifty or sixty miles away, and received his permission. The forts proved useless, they said, for the Indians sneaked in between them and fell upon the outlying plantations, burning, plundering, and killing. This it was easy to do in a country full of "thick woods, swamps, and other covert." So, as houses went up in flames, as men, women, and children were murdered, as miserable captives were led off to await torture, a cry arose for relief. What is needed, people said, is some considerable force in motion to seek out the enemy and destroy them.

So petition after petition came to Berkeley begging him to send them a leader. We have the arms, they said, all we ask is permission to defend ourselves. But they met with peremptory refusal. As one group stood before him, hat in hand, one of them spoke of themselves as his honor's subjects. "Why you are a set of fools and loggerheads. You are the King's subjects, and so am I," Berkeley blurted out. "A pox take you."

The frontier planters were in despair. Many deserted their homes and fled to the more settled parts of the country. Some declared they would plant no more tobacco, since it would be taken from them to pay for the useless forts. And they were deeply angered when it was reported to them that Berkeley had said that if they had no tobacco, "they had cows and feather beds sufficient to discharge their levies." At last, "the cries of their women and children growing grievous and intolerable to them," and hearing that large bodies of Indians were encamped on the upper James ready to descend on them, the people of Charles City County assembled in arms near Merchants Hope.