CHAPTER VIII.
General Bacon apprehending that the rising sun might disclose to viewthe approaching columns of the army under Sir William Berkley, hadordered the dismantled fort to be refitted in such a manner as to affordsome protection to his exhausted troops. The trees were again broughtround to their former position, and the limbs by which themselves hadgained entrance lopped off. The sun, however, rose above the horizonwithout betraying any sign, either of the expected army, or of themounted scouts whom he had sent out just before the battle. This lattercircumstance gave him not a little uneasiness, as he could account fortheir protracted absence in no other way than by supposing that they hadfallen into Sir William's hands.
Most of the troops were yet indulging in repose, after the extraordinaryfatigues of the night, and were cheerfully indulged by their officers,in the hope that they would rise with renewed ardour and courage for theexpected attack.
At about ten o'clock in the morning, the troops having been roused fromtheir slumbers, and partaken of a hasty breakfast, the sentinel pacingto and fro upon the top of the walls, announced the approach of theexpected foe. Bacon and his staff quickly mounted the breastwork toexamine the number and appointments of his confident enemy; but to hisgreat joy and relief, the approaching troops proved to be his ownmissing scouts. He mounted his charger and galloped over the interveningground in order to learn the cause of their strange absence; soimpatient was he, not only on that score, but likewise to learn tidingsfrom his pursuers. He very soon met the advancing horsemen, who, uponperceiving their general, halted in the road. The informationcommunicated by the commander of the party was not less surprising toBacon than was the account of the battle to the officer, who had beenabsent from its dangers and its glories. The latter stated, that afterhaving ridden about twenty miles on the previous night, they suddenlycame upon the encampment of Sir William's army, but having discoveredtheir fires in sufficient time, had avoided their pickets. They scoutedround his camp for a considerable length of time, endeavouring to learnsomething of his intended movements--the number of his soldiers, andtheir disposition toward themselves, but found no means of gaininginformation. At length they narrowly escaped being discovered andintercepted by a foraging party, and having discovered that the trooperscomposing it, had come last from the house of a planter, living not farfrom the encampment, they resolved to present themselves before him,candidly explain their business, and throw themselves upon hispatriotism for any information which he might possess. They did so, andwere fortunate enough to find that the planter was not only able, butwilling to give them important information, and was anxious for thesuccess of Bacon's expedition--his own son being engaged in it. Theamount of his information in few words, was, that Sir William Berkleyhad that very evening received an express from Jamestown, urgentlysummoning him back to the capital, with all his forces. That twoinfluential citizens residing in the counties south of Jamestown, byname Walklate and Ingraham,[9] having heard of his expedition to cut offthe return of General Bacon and his army, had immediately raised a forceof horse and foot scarcely inferior to his own, and were marching uponthe capital. Nor was this all the unfavourable news communicated by theexpress: it farther stated that the House of Burgesses, then in session,(contrary to the promise of Sir William to dissolve it,) were engagedupon some resolutions, very injurious to the reputation and fartherinfluence of the Governor, and that they had already approved of theproceedings of General Bacon, and resolved to require the Governor tosign his commission as commander in chief of the colonial forces,besides having transmitted to the ministry at home, testimonials of hispatriotism, talents, and bravery.
[Footnote 9: Historical.]
The foraging party from the army of Sir William, had farther informedthe planter, that it was the intention of his excellency to break up hiscamp by dawn of day, and return by forced marches, to the protection ofthe capital.
At this juncture, the Colony of Virginia presented the singularspectacle of three distinct and independent armies, assembled at onetime. One at the falls, commanded by Bacon--another in the Peninsula,commanded by Sir William Berkley, and the third in the south, commandedby Generals Ingraham and Walklate. The first and last were nothing morethan disciplined assemblages of volunteers from among the people, whilethat under the command of the Governor in person, was composed in partof veteran regular troops, and partly of loyal subjects, called togetherby the urgent appeals of him who had so long been the honoured organ ofhis majesty's authority in the colony.
When General Bacon returned to the camp, and had assembled hisassociates in command, and communicated to them the foregoingparticulars, he also announced to them his intention of leaving thetemporary command of the army with his next in rank, and repairing inperson immediately to the capital.
His views having met the approbation of the council of officers, thesloop which had brought up the marine part of the expedition waspromptly put in readiness, and forty chosen men embarked for hisescort.[10]
[Footnote 10: Historical.]
His unfortunate valet and devoted adherent, Brian O'Reily, although muchenfeebled by long confinement and want of wholesome food, was, at hisown earnest request, added to the number. So urgent had been the variousclaims upon the time of General Bacon, that he had not yet heard Brian'saccount of his sufferings and privations.
Before embarking he issued the strictest orders for the safety, comfort,and protection of the numerous prisoners, and of Wyanokee in particular.He directed that she should be conveyed in the same wagon, thenpreparing for the purpose of transporting the remains of Mrs. Fairfax toJamestown.
Before taking leave of his comrades in arms, he entered the marqueecontaining the honoured remains. The sentinel was walking his solitaryrounds of monotonous duty, with solemn aspect. Strange that theceremonies attending the laying out and decently guarding this lifelessbody should more powerfully impress this sturdy soldier than all theheaps of slain piled into one common grave during the night.
Bacon entered the marquee alone. There sat the last daughter of thekings of Chickahominy, in precisely the attitude in which he had seenher five hours before. She was the sole mourner at the feet of her whomin life she had most honoured. He was powerfully affected by the sightof many little personal ornaments, not worn on the previous night, butwhich had been collected by Wyanokee and placed conspicuously upon thecorpse. He was struck, too, with the delicate consideration of theIndian maiden in these native observances in honour of the dead.Conspicuous among the things valued by her friend while living, was asmall silver clasped pocket bible; it was spread open upon the neatfolds of her white garments, surrounded with a profusion of wildflowers, such as he had often known her to transplant into her owngarden.
But time pressed, and urgent circumstances called him to the capital; hetherefore lifted the covering (a white handkerchief) from her face, andgazed for the last time upon those features impressed upon his heart andmemory from infancy. Almost involuntarily he drew from his doublet thediminutive locket, reassured his heart by a momentary comparison of thefeatures--and then forced himself away and proceeded to the bank of theriver, where the sloop already spread her sails to the ready breeze.
The prisoners taken at the battle of the Falls, or of the Bloody Run asit was more frequently called, were placed in the centre of the army,with the exception of Wyanokee, and the fort burnt to the ground, afterwhich the Colonial troops took up their line of march for the capital.Toward this central point three separate armies were now advancing,while the House of Burgesses were passing a series of resolutions inwhich all three were deeply interested. A more important juncture in theaffairs of the Colony had never occurred, and the approach of thevarious hostile parties toward the capital excited the deepest anxietyin all the reflecting inhabitants of the city.
The courier announcing the successful issue of Bacon's campaign againstthe tribes of the Peninsula, which had so long disturbed the peace andtranquillity of the planters, was received with general manifestation
sof joy and expressions of gratitude to the youthful commander of theexpedition.
By a resolution of the assembly, the State House was ordered to beilluminated, and the inhabitants generally were requested to follow theexample. These, with other voluntary demonstrations of rejoicing on thepart of the citizens, were about to be carried into execution, when thevanguard of Sir William Berkley's army, commanded by the sturdy oldknight in person, arrived at the gates of the bridge. When he wasinformed of the cause of this unusual measure, and of the resolutionswhich had been passed by the House of Burgesses, both in regard tohimself and his young rival in the popular favour, he burst into a mostungovernable fit of rage--threw his sword into the river, and swore hewould embark for England the next morning. He was no sooner dissuadedfrom the rash step, than he resolved upon an expedient equallyinconsiderate. It was nothing less than to march his army into thestreets of the city, and thence, with a chosen band of followers,disperse the assembly at the point of the bayonet. It was with thegreatest difficulty, and after long efforts, that his more discreetfriends were enabled to dissuade him from this step likewise, nor eventhen until they had compromised the affair, by agreeing that he shouldissue a proclamation with the same view, and forthwith issue writs for anew election. Accordingly, having marched his troops into the heart ofthe city, and encamped them immediately round the State House and publicgrounds, he carried his threats into execution.
The dissolution of the assembly was immediately proclaimed, and writswere issued for the election of their successors. To such a length hadSir William Berkley carried his high-handed measures, from time to time,since his reaccession to the vice-regal chair, that he imagined thepeople would submit to any dictation emanating from so high afunctionary as himself--that it was only necessary to make his will andpleasure known to the good citizens of Jamestown, at once to put an endto all the demonstrations of joy by which his arrival was so unwelcomelygreeted. He was led into this error, partly by his own overweeningpride, and partly by the respect which so many years of uncloudedprosperity in the same station had naturally engendered in the people.And doubtless they would have endured much, and did submit to manyoppressions, rather than resist the authority of one who had so longheld the reins of government. But the true secret of the change in thecharacter of that government, was in the erroneous views conceived bythe captious old knight, during the government of the commonwealth. Hehad fallen with his first Royal master and risen with the second--andthus had come into power the second time, with all the extravagantnotions of prerogative entertained by his transatlantic prototype,without having derived any wholesome lessons of experience from the fateof his first unfortunate master.
The people heard the proclamation dissolving the assembly, with murmursindeed at the spirit and motive in which it originated, but withoutfeelings of opposition to the measure, because it was one which they hadthemselves demanded before his departure. They therefore moodilyacquiesced, and even submitted to be bearded by the foreign mercenariesin their streets and public walks, but when the Governor, emboldened bythis apparent tameness undertook to issue another document, proclaimingBacon, Dudley, Harrison, Walklate, Ingraham, and their followers,rebels, the people could submit no longer. The muttered thunders ofpopular discontent burst out into all the fury of a storm. His officerswere forcibly prevented from reading his proclamations in the streets,and public places--a general meeting of the citizens voluntarilyassembled at the State House, surrounded as it was by his soldiers, andthere passed resolutions, condemning his recent conduct, in the mostunmeasured terms. They also appointed a large committee to wait on himforthwith, and not only demand the suppression of the last proclamation,but that he should sign the commissions, already prepared by theassembly for the very persons so denounced. After making these demandsof the infatuated old man, they farther informed him that two expresseswere already mounted--one to be despatched to the army under Bacon, andthe other to that headed by Ingraham and Walklate, both of which wereprobably within a short distance of the city. That besides thesepreparations for any extreme measures to which he might think proper toresort, the citizens generally were arming themselves, and even thatmany members of the late House of Burgesses, which he had justdissolved, were taking up arms, and held themselves in readiness toassist in disarming and expelling the mercenaries under his command. SirWilliam demanded two hours for deliberation and consultation with hisfriends. These were soon assembled, and the committee withdrew to awaitthe expiration of the allotted time.
Again the Governor was destined to be mortified. The officers assembled,most of whom had been with him in his recent expedition, stated thatthe popular spirit of revolt and insubordination, had spread among thesoldiery to such an extent that no dependence could be placed upon themin case of a rupture with the citizens. In this emergency he wascompelled to listen to the admonitions of the friends, who advised thathe should endeavour to turn the popular current in his favour, bysigning the commissions, and withdrawing the offensive proclamations. Tothis he was forced to accede, and accordingly when the committee of thecitizens returned he signed the commissions. Scarcely had he dismissedthem, however, before he began devising measures to counteract the verypurpose of his act. He ordered a representation to be immediately drawnup for ministers, in which the now commissioned officers in questionwere represented as traitors--directed the most resolute andtrust-worthy of his adherents to embark for Accomac, whither he resolvedto transfer the seat of Government until the citizens of the capitalshould be taught that respect for his majesty's representative in whichthey had shown themselves so deficient within the last few hours; andcommanded all the armed ships not engaged in transporting his own troopsacross the bay,[11] (and there were many of them in the river,) tocruise up the stream, in order to intercept the sloop conveying GeneralBacon and his suite to the city, with strict orders to bring him dead oralive to Accomac. Having issued these various orders, and seen them putin a regular train of execution, he embarked the same night on board anarmed brigantine, with his own family and suite, not forgetting hisimprisoned and deeply injured niece.
[Footnote 11: See Burke.]
Meanwhile General Bacon was calmly reclining upon the deck of his littlesloop; it was the second night from his embarkation--the moon wasshining brightly in the heavens, and the stars sparkled brilliantlythrough a hazy but not damp atmosphere, and not a breath of air filledthe white sails as they flapped idly against the mast. The vessel wasdrifting slowly toward her place of destination it is true, but not witha velocity in accordance with the ardent desires of the passengers.Every soul on board had retired to rest except himself, Brian O'Reily,and that part of the crew to which belonged the duty of the watch. Itwas the same night the reader will remember, on which Sir WilliamBerkley arrived at, and afterward so suddenly departed, from thecapital.
Brian O'Reily was for the first time explaining to his master the mannerin which he came into the hands of the Indians. Bacon had readilysurmised the whole process, but knowing that O'Reily must be indulgedwith the relation at one time or another, and being unable to sleep inhis present excited state of mind, he had given the impulse to Brian'sgarrulity, not inadvertently, however, by the simple question,
"So Brian, you were in pursuit of me when the Powhatans made you aprisoner?"
"Ay, by St. Stephen the martyr, and the twelve Apostles, barrin one ivthem that was a thraitor, I was near bein a martyr myself, only thebloody nagres had a notion to fatten me, and that's the rason they keptme tied on me back all the while, jist as I used to fix the misthress'sblind calf, the saints bless her soul."
"Fatten you, Brian, for what?"
"To ate me, to be sure!"
"Pshaw, O'Reily, they are not cannibals."
"Oh the divil burn my eyes, but I saw thim roastin babies by the fire,and ating them like pathriges, widout so much as salt to season them!"
"You just now told me you were tied in a dark hole, and fed on parchedcorn, all the time you were a prisoner."
"Divi
l a word iv a lie's in that, any way, your honour, and sure enoughI didn't jist see thim kooking the young ones, but didn't I smell thimroastin? Sure and Brian O'Reily wouldn't be after being decaived in thesmell of a pig for a sucking baby. Didn't the divil tempt me wid thatsame smell any way? may be he didn't? Wasn't I starvin myself upon shortallowance iv their murtherin popped corn, and didn't the bloody nagersroast a baby jist whin me unconscionable bowels came up into my throatevery day, begging for muttin and turnips? and didn't they want tofatten me like the misthress's blind calf--me bowels I mane? and didn'tI put thim aff wid a half score o' parched corns? Oh! if they had onlybeen stilled into whiskey, may be it wouldn't iv cured the smotherin Ihad about the heart."
"I suppose, Brian, you were never sober for such a length of timetogether in your life before."
"Oh! be our Lady you may say that--there was jist nothing to ate, andthe same to dhrink, barrin the parched corn, and the babies, and may be,an oldher sinner for Sundays, by way of a feast."
"You travelled on foot, I suppose, from place to place, until theyconcentrated at the falls!"
"Divil a foot iv mine touched the ghround, since they pulled me off myhorse at yon town of theirs over the river. I rode on a horse ivery footiv the way, your haner, and had one iv the nagers to attind me; may behe didn't ride behint me on the same baste, and put his arms around melike a butcher taking a fat wether to the shambles."
"You were in right good case too, when you fell into the hands of thissingular butcher, that deals in human flesh, according to your account?"
"Ay was I, but I lost it asier than I got it--by the five crasses, butthe sweat run down to me shoes every time I looked round at the painteddivil sittin on the same baste wid me--his nose ornamented wid a leadring like a wild steer. Sure I thought the ghreat inimy was flyin awaywid me, before I was dacently buried."
"What did he say to you, Brian?"
"Say to me, your haner! By the holy father, but he addressed none iv hisdiscourse to me. Maybe he was talkin to the divil that was in him as bigas a sheep--didn't he grunt it all away down in his pipes like a pig ina passion? Or may be he was talkin to the horse, for he grunted too, andone iv thim jist discoursed as well as the t'other, to my mind."
"Could you not tell upon what subject he spoke, from his gestures orsigns.--Did he not point to Jamestown frequently?"
"Not he--he pointed to the colour iv me hair, more belikes, and whenthey gat to yon place where your haner put so many iv thim to slape,they all gathered round me to see it. They had their own crowns paintedthe same colour, and they wonthered at the beauty iv mine, and faith,that was the most rasonable thing I saw among thim, barrin that theybrought me the paint-pot, and wanted me to figure off one iv theirbeautiful gourds like Brian O'Reily's. I towld thim it was a thing outiv all rason, and pulled out some iv the hair to show thim, and divilburn the bloody thaives, but they cut it all aff jist for keepsakesamong thim."
"They left you a top-knot, I see, however."
Before O'Reily could make a reply, the sailor on the watch cried outthat there was a large ship bearing down upon them. Bacon sprung uponhis feet, ordered Brian to alarm the soldiers, and walked hastilyforward. At the first glance, he saw a crowd of warlike heads, andcaught the reflection of the light upon their arms. A second look at thestrange movements of the vessel, and the hostile preparations of thoseon board served to convince him that he was himself the object of theirpursuit. Taking two of the first soldiers who made their appearance ondeck, he silently entered the boat swinging from the tafferel of thesloop, motioned the two soldiers to follow him, and then ordered theboat to be let down with all silence and despatch. O'Reily seeing thesepreparations as he came on deck from the performance of his orders,sprung into the boat as one end struck the water; it was too late, andthe circumstances too urgent for his master to order him back--the frailbark was pushed off, therefore, with muffled oars, and as much withinthe shadow of the approaching vessels as their destined course wouldpermit. Scarcely were they without the protection of these, before theydiscovered the yawl of the ship full of armed men, rapidly gliding intothe water, and in the next moment, they heard musket balls whistlingover their heads, accompanied by the momentary gleam and then the quickreport of fire-arms. Seizing an oar himself, and ordering Brian tofollow his example, they pulled with all their strength for the shore;this once gained, he hoped that the protection of the forest and theincreasing haziness of the atmosphere settling upon the high banks ofthe river, would effectually protect his retreat. But in spite of theirutmost efforts, the superior power with which the yawl was propelledthrough the water was rapidly shortening the distance between them.Brian threw off his jerkin, and strenuously exhorted his master to trusthimself to the mercy of the waves, though he knew not the nature of thethreatened danger. On this point, Bacon himself could only conjecture,that it was some device of his old enemy to get him secretly into hispower, and hence his anxiety to reach Jamestown at the present juncture.He knew nothing of the change which had taken place at the capital inhis favour, but he knew his own power over the populace, and hepreferred being made prisoner in public, to trusting himself to thetender mercies of Sir William Berkley. In spite of all his exertions,and the hopes of reward held out to the soldiers in case of success,their boat was cut off from the shore by the pursuers interposingbetween it and themselves. He saw that resistance would be madness, asthe boat now wheeling exactly in front of them contained five timestheir number, and would doubtless, in case of a struggle, be promptlysustained by assistance from the ship, which was now nearer to them thantheir own vessel. His only course, therefore, was to submit with as muchphilosophy as he could muster. He was deeply mortified and chagrinedhowever, for his presence seemed to him to be most urgently called forat the capital. These views were founded upon the information he hadreceived, now two days old. Could he have known what had taken place atJamestown only a few hours before, and only a few miles distant from hispresent position; could he have known that Sir William Berkley was atthat very moment an adventurer upon the same waters, but a few milesbelow, and driven thence by the firmness of the patriotic citizens whobelonged to his own party, he would doubtless have made a desperateresistance. Perhaps it was more fortunate for all parties that he wasthus ignorant of existing circumstances at the capital, for had hefallen at this juncture, (which was most probable) the fate of theRepublican party in the infant state might have been very different.
He and his party soon found themselves on board of the hostile ship,which was commanded by Capt. Gardiner, an Englishman--a devoted loyalistand adherent of Sir William Berkley. He was politely received by thatofficer, but informed that he must consider himself a prisoner until hecould exculpate himself before the Governor in person, at Accomac. Untilthis moment Bacon had been partially reconciled to his mishap, trustingto his known popularity among the people of the city, which he knewwould not be diminished by the eclat of his Indian victories; but nowthat he was informed of the present residence of the Governor, and thedestination of the ship, his hopes were totally prostrated. He began tosuspect that something was wrong with Sir William at Jamestown, fromhis present singular location, and was not a little uneasy at the secretand unusual measures he had taken to get him into his power. He knew theturbulent and impetuous temperament of the old knight, and how little hewas given to consult right and humanity in too many of his summarymeasures of what he chose to call justice, to think that he wouldhesitate one moment to summon a court-martial of his own partizans--try,condemn, and execute him and his three unfortunate followers, if not themore numerous body, now also prisoners, in the sloop. As he stood upondeck in the midst of his guard, weighing these various aspects of hisposition, the ship was silently gliding within view of the lights fromthe city. He observed that the captain steered his course as far fromthe island as the channel of the river would permit, which confirmed hisprevious suspicions as to the state of popular feeling in the capital,and increased his uneasiness as to the secret designs of the Governoru
pon himself. From Captain Gardiner he could gain no satisfactoryinformation--he merely replied to Bacon's demand for his authority, thatGovernor Berkley had commanded him to bring him (Bacon) to Accomac, andto deliver him dead or alive into his hands.
When it was too late, Bacon saw the rashness of the councils which hadinduced him to abandon his army, and trust himself among the numerousships floating in the river, the commanders of which were knownadherents of his enemies.
The reflections of our hero, as he paced the quarter deck towardmorning, were bitter in the extreme. He saw all the bright hopes of hisreviving spirits vanish like a dream, as the vessel now just emergingfrom the waters of the Powhatan, and propelled by a fresh morning breezefrom the land, was plunging with every swell of the buoyant waves intothe waters of the Chesapeake, and receding farther and farther at everyplunge from the objects of his highest and dearest aspirations.
That portion of the magnificent bay into which they were now enteringimmediately ahead, was expanded and lost to the eye on the limitlesswaves of the ocean. On the starboard tack, like a black cloud joiningthe sea and the sky together, lay Cape Henry, and on the larboard, stillmore faintly pencilled against the horizon, lay Cape Charles. Betweenthe two, the white bordered waves of the Atlantic rolled their swellingvolumes into the Chesapeake.
The faint yellow tinge of dawn could just be discerned, like a movingshadow, now upon the waves and then upon the hazy clouds, dipping intotheir bosom, while hundreds of aquatic birds, interposed like a blackcloud at intervals to intercept the view in the distance, or moresuddenly flapped their wings from under the very prow of the vessel asthey swooped along the surface of the stream and dipped the points oftheir wings like a flash of light into the sparkling waters.
A steady breeze was blowing from off the land, and the white sails ofthe ship swelled proudly and the tapering spars bent under itsinfluence, as she ploughed up the waves foaming and falling in dividedmasses before her prow. On any other occasion than the present, Baconwould have enjoyed the prospect on this grandest of all inland seas, butnow his mind was oppressed with gloomy doubts and forebodings. Everyplunge of the vessel was bearing him more within the grasp of hisrelentless foe. But the mishap of his own personal adventure, every wayunfortunate as it was both for himself and the cause in which he hadengaged, was not that which weighed most oppressively upon his mind.Ever since the discovery of the miniature contained in the locket, hehad been gradually giving way to his reviving hopes, and building uponthat slender assurance bright and glorious superstructures ofimagination. He had endured and lived, and fought and conquered withthat hope, as the polar star to his otherwise dark and dreary course.Now again his destinies were almost wrecked by a storm from a quarter inwhich he had scarcely cast his eyes. How could he imagine that SirWilliam Berkley would be driven from the capital, by the stern andindependent resistance of the unarmed citizens? How could he know thatbeing thus driven from it he would yet retain a sufficient naval forceto capture him and his escort upon the very eve of his triumphal entryinto the city? These were the reflections which made him look with afeeling of dark misanthropy upon the glorious beauties of theChesapeake. His ambition, his pride, and his conscience were satisfied;but his love for a bride, already once led to the very steps of thealtar, was again thwarted upon the eve of what he had supposed and hopedwould prove the final and happy fulfilment of his most ardent hopes. Hisfeelings toward the devoted and interesting maiden, who had perilled andsuffered so much on his account, were enthusiastic in the highestdegree. She stood toward him not only in the relation of his betrothed,but his wedded bride; and the more endearing and captivating she becameto him as he contemplated her in these relations, the more he cursed inhis heart the hard-hearted and perverse old man who had been the causeof all his troubles.
Every chance of escape was intensely examined; not a word was sufferedto fall unheeded from Captain Gardiner and his subordinates. He notedcarefully the distribution of the prisoners in the vessel in which hewas himself confined, as well as of those in the sloop following intheir wake. He took careful observations of the most prominent objectson their route--the state of the tide in the river which they had justleft. He examined the boats--how they were secured--the equipments andappearance of the crew on board, and resolved if he must fall in themidst of his reviving hopes, to die as became the conqueror of BloodyRun and the lover of Virginia Fairfax.