CHAPTER VI
RECONSTRUCTION AND DESPOTISM
When the news of Bacon's Rebellion reached Charles II he thought it past belief that "so considerable a body of men, without the least grievance or oppression, should rise up in arms and overturn the government." He did not stop to consider that he himself, by giving away huge areas in the colony to favorites, was in part responsible, or that the passage of the Navigation Acts and the consequent precipitous break in the price of tobacco could be called a grievance. As for Berkeley's policy of rule by placemen, if he knew anything about it, he could but reflect that he himself had set the example.
But he realized that something had to be done, not only to restore order, but to remove at least some of the causes of discontent. So he appointed Colonel Herbert Jeffreys, Sir John Berry, and Colonel Francis Moryson a committee to go to Virginia to enquire into all grievances and report back to him. As for Berkeley, though he was to retain the title of Governor, he was ordered to return to England "with all possible speed." During his absence Jeffreys was to be Lieutenant Governor, with all the powers of Governor.[1]
The King then drew up a proclamation, which he directed Jeffreys to publish in the colony, stating that he was willing to extend his royal compassion to all except Bacon who would return to their duty and obedience, and authorizing the Governor in his name to pardon all he thought "fit and convenient for our service."[2] But he mingled force with leniency by placing a thousand well-equipped men under Jeffrey's command. For the second time within twenty-five years an English expedition set sail to bring the Virginians to "obedience." Berry and Moryson, with part of the army, arrived in the James River in January, 1677, and Jeffreys soon followed with the rest.[3]
They found the colony in a deplorable condition. With the people bitter and sullen, with neighbor arrayed against neighbor, with hundreds of houses and barns in ashes, with trade disrupted, there was need for unselfish and statesmanlike guidance. There should have been an immediate restoration of the rule of law, so that no man could be made to suffer without a trial before his peers. There should have been an election of Burgesses, in which the people could make their choices without pressure from the Governor and the Council. There should have been an honest effort to assuage flaming resentments, to give heed to the people's grievances, to unite all classes in binding up the wounds of war and bringing peace and some measure of prosperity to the distracted colony.
The situation was not unlike that in the South at the close of the War between the States. And as the South, after the assassination of President Lincoln, was left a prey to vultures—the so-called Carpetbaggers and Scaliwags—Virginia after the collapse of Bacon's Rebellion, was sacrificed to the vindictiveness and greed of Berkeley and his supporters.
"Two wrongs do not make a right." Though a loyalist may have suffered severely by the plundering of rebel bands, he was not justified in trying to make good his losses by robbing a neighbor, even though that neighbor had sided with Bacon. But the Governor, instead of insisting that his friends seek restitution only through the courts, himself was foremost in making illegal seizures. When he returned to Green Spring, the sight of his plundered house and barns, and the empty meadows where once hundreds of cattle and sheep had grazed drove him to fury. He showed "a greedy determination thoroughly to heal himself before he cared to staunch the bleeding gashes of the woefully lacerated country," by seizing men's "estates, cattle, servants, and carrying off their tobacco."[4] Some of the wretched men who were dragged before him he threatened with hanging unless they gave him most or all that they owned. A certain James Barrow was imprisoned at Green Spring, where "by reason of the extremity of cold, hunger, loathsomeness of vermin," he was forced to agree to the payment of a ruinous composition.[5]
The King's commissioners received a cool reception from Berkeley. He wanted no investigation of the causes of the rebellion, he wanted no interference with his hangings and seizures. He pointed out that he had suppressed the rebellion before the arrival of the troops, and pretended to be surprised that the King had thought it necessary to send them.[6] When the commissioners told him that illegal seizures must stop, he flew into such a rage that they decided that future communication with him should be by writing. This would avoid the "loud and fierce speaking" necessitated by his deafness.[7]
But there must have been "loud and fierce speaking" indeed when the commissioners went to Green Spring and showed Berkeley the King's proclamation of pardon, and the order that he return immediately to England. All his life Berkeley had regarded the King's command as sacred. To resist his will was as wicked as it was illegal. But now, on flimsy pretexts, he deliberately disobeyed him. He postponed his departure for three months, declaring that the word "conveniency" gave him the right to remain as long as he wished. He did publish the proclamation, but here again he found an excuse to balk the King's obvious intent to pardon all save Bacon. Issuing a proclamation of his own he "saw fit" to exempt from pardon not only a long list by name, but all persons then in prison charged with rebellion. Since the jails were overflowing, this left scores of miserable men trembling for their lives.