The Cavaliers of Virginia, vol. 2 of 2
CHAPTER V.
The martial sounds of drums and trumpets had scarcely died away over thedistant hills, when Sir William Berkley despatched couriers to thevarious military outposts of the colony, peremptorily ordering thecommanders to march forthwith to Jamestown with the forces under theircommand. To these couriers also were given secret instructions for theprivate ears of such of his loyal friends among the Cavaliers living ontheir routes, as he knew would adhere to him under any circumstances,urgently soliciting their immediate presence at the capital. After thesewere despatched, he summoned a secret conclave of such friends, equallyworthy of his trust, as were yet to be found in the city.
Thus were they engaged, as General Bacon, habited in the rich militaryfashion of the day, rode along the north western skirt of the city, hisown gay attire, and the splendid trappings of his horse wretchedlymocking the desolation within. He drew up at the back court of theBerkley Arms, dismounted, and passed immediately into a private room.Having despatched a servant for the landlord, he employed the timebefore he made his appearance, in meditations upon the singular andprotracted absence of Brian O'Reily, the new responsibilities which hehad just assumed, and the present condition and future destinies of thefair invalid at the gubernatorial mansion.
When the landlord entered he quickly demanded if Doctor Roland hadinquired for him during the forenoon, and was answered that he had not.A servant was despatched with a note to the Doctor repeating his requestfor an interview of five minutes at the Arms. After he had waited sometime in the most intense impatience, the servant returned with a verbalmessage stating that the doctor would wait on Gen. Bacon immediately.
"From whom did you obtain this answer?"
"From the porter at the door, sir."
"Very well, you may retire!"
As he sat impatiently listening for the heavy footsteps of the doctor,he heard a light fairy foot tripping up the stairs, toward his room, andin the next instant a gentle tap at the door. His heart almost leaped tohis mouth as he indistinctly bade the applicant to come in. "Can it bepossible," said he to himself, "that Virginia has escaped from herjailers? Was the story of her illness but an invention of theGovernor's?"
Before he had answered these questions to his own satisfaction, the doorwas suddenly thrust backward and Harriet Harrison stood before him.
She was pale, agitated, and gasping for breath, as she threw herselfunasked into a seat. Bacon was from his previous emotions scarcely morecomposed, and his heart beat tumultuously against his doublet, as heendeavoured vainly to offer the courtesies due to her sex and standing.
"Oh, Mr. Bacon!" (gasped the agitated girl) "fly for your life."
"On what account, my dear young lady?"
"I'll tell you as quick as I can. I had just obtained admission to-dayto Virginia's room for the first time, when, after having spent thetime, and more, allotted to me by the doctor, as I was coming down thestairs I had to pass the door of Sir William's library, and Iaccidentally overheard him giving orders to an officer to collect somesoldiers from the barracks and make you a prisoner in this house. How heknew you were here I know not; but I was no sooner out of the door thanI flew to the back court below, demanded of the servant holding yourhorse to point out your room, and rushed in in this strange manner toput you on your guard. Now, fly for your life--you have not a moment tolose!"
"One word of Virginia, your fair friend, and I am gone. Will shesurvive? Is her reason unsettled? Does she believe the strange story ofthe Recluse?"
"In a word then, she is better--of sound mind, and in her heart does notbelieve one word of that story, though sober reason is strangelyperplexed."
"One word more, and I have done. Does she inquire for me?"
"The very first word she said to me was, 'Does Nathaniel believe it?'Now go, while yet you may. Should any new emergency arise in yourabsence I will despatch a courier after you."
"Yet one message to Virginia. Tell her that I have accidentallydiscovered in the trinket preserved by her father, and worn by me in thedays of my infancy, the likeness of her whom I have every reason tobelieve my mother. Tell her not to hope too sanguinely, but to give thatcircumstance its weight, and trust to the developments of time; and nowI commit you both, my dearest friends, to the protection of anoverruling Providence; farewell."
With these parting words he rushed down stairs, mounted his fleetcharger, and swiftly left the court just as the Governor's emissariesentered the front porch of the house to arrest him.
Harriet drew her veil closely over her face, and almost as fleetlysought her father's dwelling.
Our hero in a very few minutes placed the river which separates theisland from the main land between him and his pursuers. The sun was yetabove the western horizon, and the clouds which spread in fleecy andstationary masses, were tinted with the softest hues of the violet andthe rose, filling the mind with pleasing images of repose, cheerfulness,and hope. These soothing and delightful influences of the summer eveningwere in a great measure lost however upon our hero as he pursued hissolitary way through the unbroken forest in the immediate footsteps ofthe army.
Besides the inevitable suspense attending the developments of his ownorigin and destiny--there were immediate anticipations before him of nopleasing character. He had just assumed the responsibilities of anoffice, which at the very outset was attended with the most painfulembarrassments. His keen military eye ran over the ground occupied bythe enemies of his country, and perceived at once that to make hisenterprise completely and permanently successful, the savages must bedriven entirely from the peninsula.
The very first on the list of these nations was the Chickahominy, at thehead of which was the youthful queen, who had so lately perilled herlife and her authority for his own salvation from the tortures of hercountrymen. His decisive and energetic mind perceived the sternnecessity which existed of driving these melancholy relics of oncepowerful nations far distant from the haunts of the white man. Thequestion was not now presented to his mind, whether a foreign nationshould land upon the shores of these aboriginal possessors. Thatquestion had long since been decided. It was now a matter of life ordeath with the European settlers and their descendants--a question ofexistence or no existence--permanent peace or continual murders. Thewhites had tried all the conciliatory measures of which they supposedthemselves possessed. Peace after peace had succeeded to the frequentfires and bloodshed of the savages. The calumet had been smoked timeafter time, and hostage after hostage had been exchanged, yet there wasno peace and security for the white man. The right of the aboriginals tothe soil was indeed plain and indisputable; yet now that the Europeanswere in possession, whether by purchase or conquest, the absolutenecessity of offensive warfare against them was equally plain andunquestioned in his mind. These views had been hastily communicated tothe council of officers held on the banks of the river, at thecommencement of the march, and unanimously concurred in by them.Notwithstanding this unanimity of opinion among his associates incommand, the very first duty which presented itself in accordance withthese views, harrowed his feelings in the most painful manner. Hisimagination carried him forward to the succeeding morning, when hisfollowers would in all probability be carrying fire and sword into theheart of the settlement ruled by his preserver. As the refined andfeeling surgeon weeps in secret over the necessity of a painful anddangerous operation upon a delicate female friend, yet subdues hisfeelings and steels his nerves for the approaching trial, so ouryouthful commander silenced the rising weakness in his heart, and urgedhis steed still deeper into the forest. He determined to temper andsoften stern necessity with humanity.
A few hours' ride brought him up with the baggage and artillery of thearmy. The sun had already gone down, but a brilliant starlight, and abalmy and serene air revived his drooping spirits, as he swiftly passedthese lumbering appendages.
Scarcely had he placed himself at the head of the marching column, andperceived that the flower and chivalry of his command--the mountedCavaliers, were still in
advance of him, before the sharp quick reportof their fire-arms was heard at some three quarters of a mile distancein advance. These were quickly succeeded by the savage war-whoop, and ina few moments a bright red column of fire and smoke shot up towards theheavens immediately in front. His spurs were dashed into his charger'sflanks, and he flew through the fitfully illuminated forest toward agently swelling hill from beyond which the light seemed to proceed.
When he had gained this eminence, a sight greeted his eyes whichawakened all the tenderest sympathies of his nature. Orapacs, the soleremaining village of the Chickahominies--the scene of his latetortures--as well as his preservation, was wrapped in flames. Ever andanon a terrified or wounded savage came darting through the forestheedless alike of him and of the martial sounds in his rear. He reinedup his courser on the summit and sadly viewed the scene.
His commands were no longer necessary for the existing emergency. Thedeed, for which he had been so laboriously and studiously preparing hismind was done. The royal wigwam, the very scene of his shelter, and ofWyanokee's hospitality, was already enveloped by the devouring element.A few struggling and desperate warriors still kept up the unequalcontest, but in a few moments, even the despairing yells of these werehushed in the cold and everlasting silence of death. Painfully andintently he gazed upon the crumbling walls of the once peaceful home ofhis Indian friend. He could perceive no appearance of the unfortunatequeen. His imagination immediately conjured up the image of the heroicmaiden, her form bleeding and mutilated as it lay among the lastdefenders of the land of her fathers. By a singular sophistry of themind, he consoled himself by the reflection, that the orders had notproceeded from his lips--that his hand had no part in the matter,although he had himself laid down the plan of the campaign, of which thescene before him was the first result. True, he had mentioned no exacttime for the accomplishment of this measure, and the ardour of his youngcompanions in arms had outstripped his own intentions; nevertheless, thedesign was his, however much he might soothe his own feelings by thewant of personal participation.
By the time that the infantry and heavy artillery had arrived upon thespot occupied by their General, the village of Orapacs was a heap ofsmouldering ruins. The scene was again covered with darkness, save whenit was illuminated at intervals by a fitful gleam, as some quiveringruin fell tardily among the smouldering embers of the walls which hadalready fallen. He assumed the command of his troops, and marched theminto the plain between the place they then occupied, and the site of themelancholy scene we have described. By his orders also, the trumpetswere ordered to command the return of the impetuous Cavaliers. Dudleyand his compatriots soon came bounding over the plain, exhilarated withthe first flush of success, and not a little surprised at the cold andrespectful salutations which greeted them from their commander. Most ofthem, however, were acquainted with his late sufferings and feeblebodily health, and to this cause they were willing to attribute hispresent want of euthusiasm.
Bacon had no sooner issued the necessary orders for the night than,taking Dudley by the arm, he walked forth into the forest beyond thesentinels already posted.
"Tell me, Dudley," (said he in a hurried and agitated voice,) "was sheslain?"
"Was who slain?"
"The queen of these dominions!"
"No, I believe not. I think she was borne from the scene early in theconflict, by some of her tribe."
"Thank God!" he fervently ejaculated, and then addressing himself to hisaid, he continued, "Return, Dudley, to the camp--superintend theexecution of the orders I have issued for our security, in person, butfollow me not, and suffer no one, either officer or soldier, to approachthe ruins. I will return in the course of a couple of hours."
Having thus spoken, he suddenly disappeared through the forest, and hiscompanion returned to the camp.
With slow and melancholy steps our hero approached the late busy andanimated scene. The beasts of prey were sending up their savage, butplaintive notes in horrible unison with his own feelings. The coolevening breeze fanned the dying embers, and occasionally loaded theatmosphere with brilliant showers of sparks and flakes of fire. As theserolled over his person and fell dead upon his garments, he folded hisarms, and contemplated the ruins of the wigwam in which he had foundprotection.
"There," said he, "was perhaps the birth-place of a hundred monarchs ofthese forests. Until civilized man intruded upon these dominions, theywere in their own, and nature's way, joyous, prosperous, and happy. Theyhave resided amidst the shades of these venerable trees, perhaps sincetime began! The very waters of the stream bubbling joyously over yonderpebbles, have borrowed their name. Where are they all now? The last maleyouth of their kingly line was slain by these hands, and the lasthabitations of his race fired and plundered by soldiers owing obedienceto my commands. The plough and the harrow will soon break down aliketheir hearth-stones and the scene of their council fires. Yea, and thevery monuments of their dead must be levelled to meet the ever cravingdemands of civilized existence. But pshaw! is this the preparation tosteel a soldier's heart, and fire it with military ardour andenthusiasm? Let me rather ponder upon my own sufferings on this spot.Let me remember the groans of dying old men, women, and children, whichrent the air twelve hours since. And above all, let me bear in mind thedespairing shrieks of her, who was more than a mother to me, of her whoclothed and fed and protected me in infancy. Where is she now?"
"She is alive and well!" answered a feeble and plaintive voice from thewild flowers and shrubbery which grew upon an earthen monument erectedto the savage dead.
"Who is it that speaks?"
"One that had better have slept with those who sleep beneath!"
"Wyanokee?"
"Ay, who is left but Wyanokee and these mouldering bones beneath, of allthe proud race that once trod these plains unchallenged, and free as thewater that bubbles at your feet."
He approached the rude monument as she spoke. It consisted of agrass-grown mount some thirty feet in length, by ten in height andbreadth, and was surmounted by thick clustering briers and wild flowers.The youthful queen was sitting upon the margin of the tumulus, her headresting upon her hand, and it in its turn supported on her knee. As theofficer approached, she stood erect upon the mount. Her person was cladand ornamented much as when he had last seen her, except that above oneshoulder protruded a richly carved unstrung bow, and from the other, aquiver of feather-tipped arrows crossing the bow near her waist. Thesoldier replied,
"It is almost useless for me to profess now, how wholly, how profoundly,I sympathize with you in witnessing this scene of desolation. Naught butthe dictates of inevitable necessity could have induced the army undermy command to perpetrate this melancholy devastation. But I trust thatthe soothing influences of time, your own good sense, and theministrations of your kind white friends, will reconcile you to thesestern decrees of fate."
"Kind indeed is the white man's sympathy--very kind. He applies thetorch to the wigwam of his red friend, shoots at his women and childrenas they run from the destruction within, and then he weeps over theruins which his own hands have made."
"It is even so, Wyanokee. I do not expect you to understand orappreciate my feelings upon the instant; but when you are once againpeacefully settled at Jamestown with your sorrowing young friend, andwill cast your eyes over this vast and fertile country, and see to whatlittle ends its resources are wasted, and on the other hand, whatcountless multitudes are driven hither by the crowded state of otherparts of the world, you will begin to see the necessity which is drivingyour red brethren to the far west. You can then form some conception ofthe now unseen power behind, which is urging them forward. You will seethe great comprehension and sublime spectacle of God's politicaleconomy! you will see it in its beauty and its justice. You feel thepartial and limited effects of these swelling waves of the greatcreation now upon yourself and your nation. I grant they are hard to beborne, but once place yourself above these personal considerations, andcompare the demands of a world with the handful of w
arriors lying deadaround those ruins, and you will bow to the justice of the decree whichhas gone forth against your people!"
"Does your Great Spirit then only care for the good of his whitechildren? You taught me to believe that he too created the red men, andplaced them upon these hunting grounds, that he cared as much for themas he did for their white brethren--but now it seems he is angry withthe poor red man, because he lives and hunts as he was taught, by theGreat Spirit himself. These hunting grounds are now wanted for his otherchildren, and those to whom he first gave them, must not only yield themup, but they must be driven by the fire and the thunder, and the longknives of those who have been professing themselves our brethren."
"Your view of the case is a very natural and plausible one, yet it seemsto me you have overlooked that point in it, upon which the whole matterturns. Let us for one moment grant the necessity of making room on yourhunting grounds for your white brethren, who are crowded out of theolder countries. There seemed at first no need to disturb the red men,there was room enough here for all, we were content to live upon thiskind and neighbourly footing. Had your brethren been equally content,the great purposes of the Creator would have been answered without anydestruction of his red or white children. Have the red men so demeanedthemselves toward the whites that we could all dwell here together? Letthe massacre of last night speak! You point to yonder smouldering ruinsand bloody corpses. I point to the bleeding bodies of my countrymen andfriends, and their demolished dwellings as the cause--the direct causeof the desolation you behold."
"The white man talks very fast--and very well--he talks for the GreatSpirit and himself too; but who talks for the poor red man, butWyanokee. All you say is very good for the white men upon our huntinggrounds, and the white men driven from over the great waters, and forthe white men left behind. It leaves room to hunt and plant corn _there_for the white men, and finds room _here_ to hunt and plant corn, but youdo not give the poor red man any hunting ground. You say we must go tothe far west, but how long will it be the far west? How many of yourwhite friends are coming over the big waters? How far is this place,where the red man will not be driven from his new hunting ground? If wecannot live and smoke the calumet of peace together, we must haveseparate hunting grounds. Where are our hunting grounds? Ah, I see youreye reaches where the clouds and the blue mountains come together--tothe end of the world, we must go, like those beneath us to the huntinggrounds of the Great Spirit."
"Not so, Wyanokee, we would willingly spare the effusion of blood, andwhen our arms have taught the men who assembled here two days ago, ourfirm determination always to avenge the murder of our friends and theplunder of their property, it is our intention to propose a fair andpermanent peace. We will endeavour to convince them of the necessity ofabandoning for ever the country between these two great rivers, andmoving their hunting grounds where the interests of the two races cannotcome in conflict."
"O yes, you will run the long knives through their bodies, and thensmoke the calumet! You will drive us from our homes, and then you willpersuade us to give them up to the white man."
"You are not now in a proper mood to reason upon this subject calmly, mygentle friend, nor do I wonder at it; but the time will come when yourviews of this matter will be similar to my own."
"No, Wyanokee cannot see through the white man's eyes; she has not yetlearned to forget her kindred and her country. She came here to-night tosit upon the graves of the great hunters and warriors who slept herewith their calumets and tomahawks beside them, long before the longknives came among us. She will carry away from this place to night, thislittle flower planted by her own hands over the graves of her fathersand brothers. She would leave it here to spread its flowers over theirancient war paths and their graves, but even these silent and peacefulbones, and these harmless flowers must share the fate of them who buriedthe one and planted the other. Wyanokee will never see this placemore--never again be near the bones of her fathers, until she meets themall at the hunting ground of the Great Spirit. Farewell, home andcountry and friends, and fare thee well, ungrateful man; when next theIndian maiden steps between thee and the tomahawk of her countrymenrepay not her kindness with the torch to her wigwam and the long knifeto her heart."
With these bitter words of parting, she descended from the mound withdignity, and disappeared through the forest, notwithstanding the urgententreaties of Bacon, that she would return. She gave no other evidenceof heeding him than turning back the palm of her hand toward him, andleaning her head in the opposite direction, as if she were exorcising anevil spirit. He made no other attempt to stay her progress; once indeedthe thought occurred to him to hail the sentinel and arrest her for herown sake, but the idea was as speedily abandoned. He determined to leaveher destiny wholly in the hands of him who first decreed it. For amoment he ascended the mount and cast his eye over the wide-spread andmelancholy desolation, and then rapidly retraced his steps to the camp.When there, his first orders were to have the slain warriors of theexpatriated tribes, buried in the tomb of their forefathers, while hisown personal attention was bestowed upon the condition of the prisonerstaken during the demolition of the village.
They sat round the tents appropriated to their use, in stern and sullendignity. Wounded or whole, no sound escaped their lips; and their foodand drink remained untouched before them. They noticed the entrance ofthe commander in chief no more than if he had been an insignificantcreeping reptile of the earth; no signs of recognition lighted up theirfeatures, though most or all of them must have been present at the sceneof his own tortures. While Bacon stood no unmoved spectator of the calmunshaken fortitude with which they bore their misfortunes, an incidentoccurred that served to exhibit the stern qualities of their pride instill bolder relief. One of the old warriors had been taken whileattempting to escape with one of his children, after having foughtuntil there was not a vestige of hope remaining for the preservation ofhis people and their homes. He was brought into the camp, together withhis child. While the prisoners were all sitting round in sullen dignity,and the general of the invading army stood surveying them as we havementioned, this little child came entreatingly to its father's knees,and begged for the food which stood untouched before his face. He madeno verbal reply--a momentary weakness softened his countenance as hegazed into the face of the tender petitioner, but in the next, he raisedhis tomahawk and sank it deep into the brain of his child before any onecould arrest his arm. The innocent and unconscious victim fell without agroan or struggle, and the stern old warrior reinserted the handle ofhis weapon in his belt, crossed his arms upon his breast, and resumedhis former attitude of immobility. Bacon gazed at him in astonishmentand horror for an instant, and then wheeled suddenly round to retirefrom an exhibition of humanity, so rude, ferocious, and appalling. Butas he was about to emerge from the portal of the tent, Wyanokee wasrudely thrust into the door, and they stood face to face.
His first impulse was to draw his sword, and rush upon the two soldierswho had guarded the prisoner, but a moment's reflection served to remindhim that they had but obeyed his own general orders. He returned thehalf drawn weapon therefore, and stood an embarrassed spectator of thecaptive maiden's searching glances, as her eyes wandered around theroom, first resting upon her unfortunate companions in captivity, nextupon the corpse of the slain infant, and lastly upon the commanderhimself. He had seen her previously when her subdued manners andlady-like deportment, inclined him in communing with her to forget herIndian origin, but he saw her now with all her native impulses roused totheir highest tension. Her eye flashed fire as it rested upon him aftercompleting her survey, and she thus addressed him, stepping a few pacesbackward, while her person was drawn up to its utmost height, and herbosom heaved with struggling emotions.
"Are you the same person who sometime since undertook to inspire noblesentiments into the mind of the purest being that ever honoured a whiteskin? Are you the same youth who aspired to her hand and renounced it onthe marriage night, because of kindred blood? Are you
the youth whosefair and deceitful form, and apparently noble nature, once made Wyanokeelook with contempt upon this heroic race of warriors? If the form, theperson be the same, the Great Spirit of evil has poisoned the fountainsof your heart, and turned your goodness and your honour to cruelty andcunning. How far has the great light gone down behind the sea, since youstood upon the ruins of all that Wyanokee loved, and professed sorrowfor their destruction, and sympathy in her misfortunes? When you stoodbefore her, and dared not lay your own hands upon her person!--you couldleave her untouched upon the grave of her great warriors--you dared notseek to injure her, lest their spirits should return from the happyhunting ground and kill you on the spot. But you could deceitfully orderthese poor long knives to stand in her path and prevent her from takingthe last look, and heaving the last sigh that should ever be looked anduttered in these forests."
"I gave no orders for your arrest, Wyanokee; I have not spoken to thesentinels since I saw you!"
"But you could stand and mourn with Wyanokee over the ashes of herfathers' wigwam, when you had just come from ordering these to carry herinto captivity. They told me themselves that they acted by your orders.Oh how cruel, how deceitful is the white man! He gladdens the poorIndian's eyes with his glittering toys, till he cheats him of all thecorn laid up for his squaws during the winter. He smokes the calumetwith the chiefs, while his own followers are burning down the houses oftheir nation. You, sir, redeemed Wyanokee from captivity, to carry herinto a more galling bondage. You taught her the knowledge of the whiteman, only that she might multiply her sorrows, when this long foreseennight should come. Was it for this that she redeemed you from the redhot tortures of these chiefs? Did you come upon their hunting ground tolearn how to torture in preparation for this occasion, and trusting toWyanokee's soft and foolish heart for your safe return? Lead them andher to the stake! we will show the white warrior how to endure thetortures of our enemies without fainting like women."
"You will not listen to me, Wyanokee, else I could have told you longago, that I had given no orders to the sentinels. We do not desire yourcaptivity? you are free to go now whithersoever you choose, provided youkeep beyond the range of our sentinels. What our race has done againstyours, has only been done to protect their own lives and property, andto make that protection secure and permanent. You know that we nevertorture prisoners; when the war is ended and peace obtained, thesewarriors shall go free and unharmed. I see that they have refused totouch their food, under the belief that they are to suffer, but I willleave you to undeceive them, after which you are free to go or toremain. If the latter be your choice, a tent shall be provided for yoursole accommodation."
Having thus spoken, he hastily left the tent and sought the marqueeoccupied by the higher grade of officers and the more aristocratic ofthe Cavaliers. Gay sounds of song and minstrelsy greeted his ears as heapproached the spot--Bacchanalian scraps promiscuously chimed in choruswith more sentimental ditties, and all occasionally drowned inboisterous shouts of laughter. These evidences of the mood in which heshould find his associates deterred him from entering, under his presentfeelings, and he therefore passed on to his own solitary quarters. In afew moments he was extended upon such a bed as a camp affords, with noexternal source of interruption to his repose, save the distant cries ofthe wild beasts, and the more monotonous tread of the sentinel, as hepaced his narrow limits in the performance of his duty.
The sun rose the next morning over the ruins of Orapacs and the scene ofthe late strife in unclouded splendour. The enlivening notes of drumsand trumpets had long since roused the soldiers from their slumbers, andhaving despatched their morning meal, they were speedily forming intomarching order. The commander of this imposing little army mounted hischarger, and galloped along the forming battalions; his eye bright andserene, his spirits, in comparison with the previous night, bounding andelastic. Having detailed to his council of officers his intention ofnext attacking the king of Pamunky, the orders for the march were given,and the lines wheeled into columns, headed by the gay and brilliant_cortege_ of youthful Cavaliers.
The prisoners were marched into the centre of the column, and as theyassumed their station, the general ran his anxious eye eagerly overtheir persons, to ascertain whether his former pupil had availedherself of the accommodations provided by his orders. But no suchgraceful form greeted his sight, and he learned from the Captain of theguard that she had departed soon after he had himself left theprisoners--entirely alone. A momentary sadness shaded his brow, as hereflected upon the desolate condition of the Indian maiden, but it wassoon lost in the absorbing duties of his station.
Toward evening, of the ensuing day, as the army pursued their routebetween the Chickahominy and Pamunky Rivers, the vanguard discoveredseveral of the Pamunky tribe, skulking among the trees of the forestimmediately in advance of them. The general, apprehending an ambuscade,immediately ordered the Cavaliers to fall back upon the main body of thearmy, while a practised band of rangers were ordered to examine thecover of the wood. Scarcely had these orders been transmitted to theirvarious destinations, before a bright beacon fire shot its spiral columnof smoke and flame high above the surrounding trees. What this newdevice portended the commander could not divine, nor could the council,which was immediately summoned, give to it a satisfactoryinterpretation. The Rangers returned without discovering any signs of anambuscade, though they had penetrated to the huge fire which lighted upthe forest. Not an Indian was to be seen there or beyond. Bacon and hisstaff rode forward to the scene in person--but the aid of a glassenabled him to discover nothing more.
The army was again put in motion, and every precaution used which someexperience in Indian warfare had taught the general was so necessary.For miles they proceeded with the most watchful caution, until theabsence of the undergrowth in the forest taught them that it had beenfired, and thereby disclosed the probability of their being in the nearneighbourhood of the town of the Pamunkies. The verdant glades werelighted up at intervals by broad masses of red light from the settingsun, as they fell between the natural interstices of the trees. Theappearance of the woodland vista before them was romantic andpicturesque in the extreme. The forest had the aspect of a country whichhad been settled for ages. The venerable trees, surmounted with greenand brown moss, were now occasionally richly bronzed with the rays ofthe sun as they fell horizontally upon their hoary trunks, and the wholemore resembled an ancient and venerable park, which some wealthygentleman had inherited from careful and provident ancestors, than awild woodland, fresh from the hands of nature, in which the woodman'saxe had never been heard, and upon which no other care or culture hadbeen bestowed than the occasional torch of the savage.
They were not left long to revel in these wild beauties--a moreappalling scene awaited them. The sun was fast declining behind theriver hills of the Chickahominy and darkness encircling the sombregroves in which they rode, when suddenly a hundred fires cast a luridglare across their path, and the army instinctively halted on beholdingthe town of the Pamunkies wrapped in flames. Again they were put inmotion, and cautiously approached the spot. Bacon fearing that sometreachery lurked beneath these unexpected measures of the Indians, couldscarcely restrain the impetuosity of his mounted force, spurred on bycuriosity to see in what new device of savage warfare they wouldterminate.
They arrived upon the skirts of the town, however, and within theinfluence of the heat, without hindrance or adventure; and what no lesssurprised them, not a living creature was perceptible, around or nearthe conflagration.
The first idea that suggested itself to the mind of Bacon was, that thesavages had, in despair, thrown themselves into the burning ruins oftheir own dwellings. He now understood the meaning of the beacon lighton their route; "it was the signal for commencing the tragedy," hemuttered to himself as he reined up his steed and ordering his troops tohalt, brought them into line along the outskirts of the burning village,which, like the one they had themselves fired, was constructed upon thebanks of the Pamunky river. While the
troops thus stood upon their arms,some of the officers rode through the blazing wigwams, very muchagainst the will of their rearing and plunging chargers. It wascompletely deserted; but while they were consulting upon the measures tobe taken, a tumultuous and astounding yell burst suddenly upon theirstartled ears. The intense light of the burning village rendered thetwilight gloom around as dark as midnight by the contrast, and not asavage could anywhere be seen. The mounted troop made a wide sweep roundthe alignment, but with no better success. Another astounding shout ofsavage voices ascended to the clouds. Many of the frail and totteringwigwams tumbled in at the same moment--throwing the light in a lowerline of vision over the water, so that they were enabled to discover alarge body of mounted Pamunkies drawn up like themselves on the oppositebank of the river. Their grim and painted visages, close shaven crowns,scalp locks, and gaudy feathers, appeared through the medium of the redand flickering light reflected from the water, in horrible distinctness.A legion of devils from the infernal regions, clothed in all the horrorsof German poetry, never startled the senses and aroused the imaginationmore than did this spectacle its amazed beholders. With another yell anda flourish of their tomahawks above their heads, the Indianssimultaneously wheeled their horses and flew over the plain towards thesource of the river. In a few moments all was silent as death, save thecrackling of the burning wigwams. The squaws and children seemed to havebeen long since removed. Again the colonial army--or to speak moreproperly, the army of the people, encamped before the ruins of anancient and venerable settlement.
Here were no painful reminiscences for the sensitive but energeticcommander. The savages were flying before his as yet scarcely triedarmy, in the very direction in which it was his purpose to drive them.He knew them too well to believe that the whole peninsula would be thustamely abandoned, and he issued his orders, before lying down to rest,for redoubled vigilance through the night, and an early march in themorning toward the falls of the Powhatan, where he had every reason tobelieve that the tribes of the former confederacy were again drawing toa head.