For many years Virginia had been at peace with the neighboring Indians. The long series of wars which had filled most of the first half of the seventeenth century had broken the spirit and power of the Pamunkeys, the Nansemonds and the Nottoways. The remnants of these nations had become dependent upon the English, paying them tribute and looking to them for protection from their enemies. In 1675, however, these friendly relations were disturbed by a southward movement of some of the northern Indians. Large bodies of the warlike Sénecas, pressing upon the Susquehannocks at the head of the Chesapeake Bay, were driving them down into Maryland and Virginia. Here their indigence and their restlessness became a menace to the whites and an element of disturbance to their relations with the other tribes.

In the summer of 1675 a party of savages rowed across the Potomac river, committed several murders and made good their escape into Maryland. In anger and alarm the planters of Stafford county seized their arms to protect their homes and to avenge their neighbors. A band of thirty or more, led by Colonel Mason and Captain Brent, pursued the savages up the Potomac into the Maryland woods. Coming in the early dawn upon two diverging trails, “each leader with his party took a separate path”. “In less than a furlong either found a cabin”, one crowded with Doeg Indians, the other with Susquehannocks. The king of the Doegs, when he saw his hut surrounded by Brent’s men, “came trembling forth, and wou’d have fled”. But Captain Brent, “catching hold of his twisted lock, which was all the hair he wore”, commanded him to deliver up the men guilty of the recent murders. “The king pleaded ignorance and slipt loos”, whereupon Brent shot him dead. At this the savages in the cabin opened fire, and the Virginians answered with a deadly volley. “Th’ Indians throng’d out at the door and fled.” “The English shot as many as they cou’d, so that they killed ten ... and brought away the kings son.” “The noise of this shooting awaken’d th’ Indians in the cabin which Coll. Mason had encompassed, who likewise rush’d out and fled, of whom his company shot ffourteen."

This unfortunate affair was the beginning of a deadly war between the English and the Indians, which brought untold suffering upon the people of Maryland and Virginia. The Susquehannocks, enraged at the slaughter of their warriors, became the most implacable enemies of the white men. Joining with the other tribes in a league against the English, they began a series of outrages and murders which continued many months, and cost the lives of hundreds of men, women and children. During the year 1676 alone, more people were butchered in Virginia by the savages than fell in the massacre of 1644. This fearful mortality was due to the fact that the Indians were now supplied with firearms. Governor Berkeley and his friends, in their greed to secure the valuable beaver and otter skins, had not hesitated to purchase them with powder, shot and guns. The savages had now almost entirely discarded the bow and arrow, and were so skilful with their new weapons that the English often hired them “to kill Deare". So that when the war cry was once more heard upon the frontier, the savages, although less numerous than in the days of Powhatan or Opechancanough, were far more to be feared.

It was Maryland that first felt the resentment of the savages.

The people of this province had taken no part in the attack of Mason and Brent, but the Susquehannocks were not in the humor to make nice distinctions. In seeking revenge for the murder of their braves they held all whites equally guilty, and fell immediately upon the nearest plantations. Thus were the Marylanders made to suffer for the rashness of the Virginia frontiersmen.

Feeling that it was his duty to aid the neighboring province in this war brought on by the hasty action of two of his own officers, and fearing that depredations upon the Virginia frontiers could not long be prevented, Sir William Berkeley decided to join Governor Calvert in a vigorous attack upon the savages. Colonel John Washington, great-grandfather of George Washington, at the head of several hundred men, was despatched across the Potomac to effect a junction with the Maryland troops. The combined forces of the two colonies are said to have numbered “neer a thousand men".

Unable to withstand this army in the open field, the Indians fell back upon a fort which they had erected upon the north bank of the Potomac, and here awaited the approach of the English. Their fortress had been constructed with such care and skill that the white men were unable to carry it by storm. The outer works consisted of lines of tree trunks, from five to eight inches in diameter, “watled 6 inches apart to shoot through”, their tops firmly twisted together. Behind this was a ditch, and within all a square citadel, with high walls and “fflankers having many loop-holes”. The fire of the red-skins from behind these works proved so deadly that hopes of a successful assault had to be abandoned. Nor could breaches be effected, for the allies were not provided with heavy guns. The moist and swampy ground surrounding the fort made it impossible to approach by means of trenches.

So the English cast their camp before the fort hoping to starve out the enemy. Lines were drawn about the place, as closely as the nature of the ground would permit, while boats patrolled the river to cut off escape to the Virginia shore. Fearing, no doubt, that lack of provisions would soon make it necessary for them to come to terms with the besiegers, the Indians sent out several of their leaders to treat for peace. But so deep was the animosity aroused by the recent murders, that the white men violated the flag of truce by detaining these envoys, and finally beating out their brains. This flagrant act aroused the Indians to a desperate defense. In numerous sallies they inflicted severe loss upon the besiegers, and captured enough horses to supply themselves with food. At last, after six or seven weeks of fighting, they resolved to effect their escape. On a dark night, when the English were least expecting it, they sallied forth, bringing with them their women and children. Awakening the white men with their savage yells, they burst in among them, killing and wounding many, and before resistance could be made, were through the lines and gone.

And now the Virginians were made to pay dearly for their part in this ill-managed affair. Early in January, 1676, the Susquehannocks crossed the Potomac and came plundering and murdering through the frontier counties. Separating into small bands, the Indians fell upon the more isolated plantations, and in a few days had killed no less than thirty-six persons. Those whose wretched fate it was to be captured, were put to death with all the tortures that devilish ingenuity could devise. Some were roasted, others flayed alive. The sufferings of the victims were long and protracted, while the savages knocked out their teeth or tore off their nails or stuck feathers and lighted wood into their flesh.

In terror the people of the frontier began to desert their homes, seeking shelter in the more populous settlements. In a few weeks one parish, upon the upper waters of the Rappahannock, was reduced from seventy-one plantations to eleven. Those that remained were concentrated upon the largest farms, which they fortified with palisades and redoubts.

When the news of these atrocities reached Sir William Berkeley, hasty preparations were made for an expedition against the invaders. Sir Henry Chicheley was put at the head of forces of horse and foot, with orders to give immediate pursuit to the savages. But just as all was in readiness and the command to march hourly expected, the Governor decided that the expedition should be abandoned. Chicheley’s commission was annulled, his forces disbanded and the soldiers sent to their homes.

What induced Berkeley to take this strange step none could tell. The murders of the savages were continuing. The frontier was defenseless. Messages were coming from the exposed plantations imploring aid. Why should he desert the people and expose them to the fury of the Indians? It is possible that he detected symptoms of mutiny among the troops and thought it better to abandon the expedition than to run the risk of a rebellion. He was well aware of the discontent of the people, and his letters to England show that he dreaded an insurrection. The unhappy planters ascribed the Governor’s strange conduct to avarice. He and his friends had a monopoly of the Indian trade, and it was hinted that he preferred to allow the atrocities to continue rather than destroy his source of revenue. He was determined, was the cry, “that no bullits would pierce beaver skins". More probable seems the explanation that Berkeley hoped to prevent further depredations by the help of the Pamunkeys and other friendly tribes, and feared that an invasion of the Indian lands might defeat this purpose.

But an Assembly was summoned in March and instructed by the Governor to take immediate measures to secure the frontier. Acting, no doubt, under Berkeley’s influence, the Assembly resolved not to carry the conflict into the enemy’s territory, but to wage a defensive war. Forts were to be erected upon the upper waters of the great rivers, and manned with regular troops as a protection to the outer plantations. To defray the cost, new and heavy taxes were put upon the people.

This last act of the Long Assembly caused bitter dissatisfaction. The border counties had hoped that provision would be made for an expedition against the Indians. No headway could be made unless the whites took the offensive and hunted down the savages in their own villages. The erection of forts was useless. The Indians would experience no difficulty in avoiding them in their murderous raids. They could approach the remote plantations, or even those far within the frontiers, without fear of detection by the soldiers, for the numerous swamps and dense woods afforded them ample covert. It was not intended that the forts should be used as bases for expeditions into the enemy’s country; nor could the soldiers leave them to pursue and punish the plundering savages. What then, it was asked, could be the value of fortresses, if they were to defend only the ground upon which they stood?

The event proved the people right. The forts, when built, were but slight obstacles to the invasions of the Indians. The murders became more frequent than before. The impotency of the defenses of the colony seems to have inspired them to more terrible and vigorous attacks. The cry against the forts became more bitter. “It was a design,” the people thought, “of the grandees to engross all their tobacco into their own hands". As the cries of their women and children grew more piteous and distressing, the men of the frontier spoke openly of disobedience. Rather than pay the taxes for the accursed forts they would plant no more tobacco. If the Governor would not send an expedition against the Indians, they themselves would march out to avenge their wrongs. The forts must be dismantled, the garrisons dismissed.

From all parts of the colony came the insistent demand that the Assembly, which had so long been but a mockery of representative government, should be dissolved and the people given a free election. But Berkeley was not the man to yield readily to this clamor. Never, in all the long years that he had ruled over Virginia, had he allowed the rabble to dictate his policies. He would not do so now. When petitions came from the frontiersmen, asking leave to go out against the Indians, he returned a brusk and angry refusal. A delegation from Charles City county met with a typical reception from the irritable old man. As they stood humbly before him, presenting their request for a commission, they spoke of themselves as the Governor’s subjects. Upon this Berkeley blurted out that they were all “fools and loggerheads”. They were subjects of the King, and so was he. He would grant them no commission, and bade them be gone, and a pox take them. Later he issued a proclamation forbidding under heavy penalties all such petitions.

Unfortunately, at this juncture came news that large bodies of Indians were descending upon the upper waters of the James, and that another bloody assault might soon be expected. In terror and anger the people of Charles City county seized their arms, determined to repel this threatened storm, with or without the Governor’s permission. Parties went about from place to place beating up volunteers with the drum. The magistrates were either in sympathy with the movement, or were unable to prevent it. Soon a considerable body of rough, determined men were assembled, awaiting only a leader to march out against the enemy.

This leader they found in one of the most interesting and picturesque characters in Virginia history. Nathaniel Bacon is depicted as twenty-nine years of age, black-haired, of medium height and slender, melancholy, pensive, and taciturn. In conversation he was logical and convincing; in oratory magnetic and masterful. His successful expeditions against the Indians and the swift blows he directed against the loyal forces mark him as a military commander of no mean ability.

Bacon was almost a stranger in Virginia, for he had left England less than two years before. He was fortunate, however, in having a cousin, also named Nathaniel Bacon, high in the favor of Sir William Berkeley. It was doubtless through the influence of this relative that the young man attained a position of great influence, and was appointed to the Council itself. But submission to the will of the imperious Governor was the price paid by all that wished to remain long in favor in Virginia. Bacon did not approve of Berkeley’s arbitrary government; he disliked the long continuation of the Assembly, the unjust discriminations, the unusual taxes, the incapacity of officials; and it was not in his fiery temper to conceal his opinions. Soon, it would seem, the frowns of the Governor began to fall upon him, and he grew weary of coming to Council.

Bacon had made his home in Henrico, at that time one of the extreme frontier counties. His marked ability, his liberal education, his place in the Council soon gave him a position of great influence among his rough but hardy neighbors. None could be better suited to assume command over the desperate volunteers that had gathered in Charles City county.

But it was a very serious step to accept the leadership of this band which had taken arms in defiance of the Governor’s commands. It would expose him to the charge not only of disobedience, but of open rebellion. Bacon, however, like all that dwelt upon the frontiers, was angered at the inadequate protection given by the government. When news came to him that depredations had been committed upon one of his own plantations, and that his overseer had been killed, he was eager to take revenge.

Now some of Bacon’s friends, as anxious as he for an Indian expedition, and thinking him most proper to conduct it, suggested his name to the volunteers. The men were quite willing to accept so influential a commander, but it was not so easy to persuade Bacon to take the dangerous place. He consented, however, to row across the river, and visit the soldiers in their camp. Here the men gathered around him, and with joyous shouts of, “A Bacon! A Bacon!” proclaimed him their leader. His friends pressed him to accept. They would, they said, accompany him on his expedition. If the Governor ordered them to disband, they would defy him. “They drank damnation to their souls”, if they should prove untrue to him. Touched by these proofs of confidence, and fired perhaps with ambition, the young man yielded, and Bacon’s Rebellion had begun.

From the very first the movement assumed the character of an insurrection. Amid the hearty applause of his rough followers, Bacon spoke of the negligence, the incapacity and wickedness of the government. Their betrayal into the hands of the savages was but one of many grievances. The laws were unjust, the taxes oppressive. Something must be done to redress these wrongs and to end misgovernment. And as the poor people flocked in to him, he listed their names in a huge round-robin and bound them to him by an oath of fidelity.

A message was dispatched to the Governor to request a commission authorizing the expedition against the Indians. But Bacon promised his men that if Sir William withheld his assent, he would lead them forth without it; and in the meanwhile, without waiting for the Governor’s reply, he crossed over into New Kent, “a county ripe for rebellion”, where he expected to strengthen his position and perhaps attack the Pamunkeys. This nation had for many years been friendly to the English, and had more than once given them invaluable assistance against other Indian tribes. Their present queen was the widow of Tottopottomoi, who had been killed while fighting as the ally of the white men against the Richahecrians. They now occupied land allotted them by the Assembly, upon the frontier of New Kent, where, it was supposed, they would act as a protection to the colony against the raids of hostile tribes. When the Susquehannocks began their depredations Governor Berkeley expected valuable assistance from these allies, whom he termed his “spyes and intelligence” to search out “the bloody enimies". But the Pamunkeys not only failed to check the invasion of the Susquehannocks, but seem to have joined with them in the work of bloodshed and pillage. The people of the frontier believed that almost all the Indians were leagued together for their ruin. The Pamunkeys, they were sure, had taken part in the recent atrocities. And as they were their close neighbors, knowing all their customs and all their habitations, they were especially fitted for the work of destruction. The New Kent planters were now impatient to march out against them to take revenge for the recent horrible murders. But the Pamunkeys, upon hearing of Bacon’s approach, deserted their reservation and took refuge in the wilderness.

It is not hard to imagine the Governor’s anger when he heard of these proceedings. Despite the testimony of the frontiersmen, he had refused to believe the Pamunkeys guilty, and he still relied upon them for assistance against the Susquehannocks. Bacon’s proceedings, in frightening them from their lands, upset all his plans of defense. Yet had the volunteers contented themselves with attacking the Indians, it is conceivable that Berkeley would have yielded. But when they took up arms without his permission, put themselves under the command of a discontented Councillor, and demanded redress of grievances from the government, it was necessary for him to resort to repression. The commission was refused and a proclamation issued denouncing Bacon’s conduct as illegal and rebellious. He and his men were offered pardon, but only on condition that they lay down their arms, and return immediately to their obedience.

But the mutineers would not obey. Are we, they complained, to return passively to our homes, there to be slaughtered by the savage foe? The Governor has given us no protection. The Indians are coming. Already the blood of our butchered relatives cries aloud to Heaven. We hope we have still enough English blood in our veins to think it more honorable to die in fair battle with the enemy, than to be sneakingly murdered in our beds. If we lie still, we are destroyed by the heathen; if we defend ourselves, we are accounted rebels and traitors. But we will fight. And if we must be hanged for killing those that will destroy us, let them hang us, we will venture that rather than lie at the mercy of our barbarous enemies. So, turning their backs upon the plantations, they struck out into the dense woods.

When Berkeley heard that his authority was still defied, and his pardon rejected, he was resolved at all hazards to compel obedience. Gathering around him a party of three hundred gentlemen, “well armed and mounted”, he set out, on the third of May, to intercept the rebels. But learning, upon his arrival at the falls of the James, that Bacon had crossed the river and was already far away, he decided to encamp in the frontier counties and await his return.

But he sent out a party under Colonel Claiborne to pursue the Pamunkeys, and induce them, if possible, to return to their reservation. The savages were found entrenched in a strong; position, “encompassed with trees which they had fallen in the branch of an Impassable swamp". Their queen refused to abandon this retreat, declaring that since the Governor had not been able to command the obedience of Bacon, he could not save her people from his violence. But she promised that the Pamunkeys should remain peaceable and should take no part in the raids of the Susquehannocks. “Of this the Governor was informed, who resolved not to be soe answered but to reduce her and the other Indians, soe soone as Bacon could be brought to submit."

On May the tenth Berkeley issued a new proclamation. The taking of arms by Bacon, he said, against his wishes and commands, was an act of disloyalty and rebellion. If permitted to go unpunished, it would tend to the ruin and overthrow of all government in the colony. It was his duty to use all the forces at his command to suppress so dangerous a mutiny. Should the misguided people desert their leader, and return to their allegiance, he would grant a free and full pardon. And as Nathaniel Bacon had shown himself by his rash proceedings utterly unworthy of public trust, he suspended him from the Council and from all other offices held by him. It was amazing, he said, that after he had been Governor of Virginia so many years, and had done always equal justice to all men, the people should be seduced and carried away by so young and turbulent a person as Bacon.

But although Berkeley was determined to suppress the rebels by force of arms, the attitude of the commons in other parts of the colony became so threatening that he was forced to make some concessions. To the great joy of the people he dissolved the unpopular Long Assembly, and ordered a new election. It was with sorrow, he declared, that he departed with the present Burgesses, who had given frequent proof of ability and wisdom. But the complaints of many inhabitants of the long continuance of the old Assembly had induced him to grant a free election. And if any man had grievances against his government, or could accuse him of injustice or bribery, he was to present his complaint by his Burgesses to the Assembly, where it would be examined.

It was indeed time for the Governor to act, for the rebellion was spreading to the older and more populous counties. The people there too were denouncing the forts, and demanding redress of grievances. Some began to arm, and it seemed not improbable that the entire colony might soon be ablaze. Hastening back to his residence at Green Spring, he sought to appease the people by dismantling the obnoxious forts and dismissing their garrisons.

In the meanwhile Bacon was making his way through the woods southward from the falls of the James in pursuit of the Susquehannocks that had committed the recent murders upon the frontier. These savages had not attempted to return to their homes north of the Potomac, but had retired to the country of the Occaneechees, where they had entrenched themselves in two forts. The Occaneechees dwelt in the southernmost part of Virginia, near the site of Clarksville. They are described as a stout people, and the most enterprising of traders. Their chief town, situated upon an island in the Roanoke River and defended by three strong forts, was “the Mart for all the Indians for att least 500 miles” around. The beaver skins stored in this place at the time of Bacon’s expedition are said to have valued no less than L1,000. Persicles, their king, was reported to be an enlightened ruler, “a very brave man & ever true to ye English".

It was toward this island that Bacon led his men. But a quest for Indian allies took him far out of his route. Everywhere he found the savages reluctant to aid him, even those nations that had formerly been most friendly to the English now holding aloof from them. This embarrassed him greatly for he had relied upon receiving aid from several tribes, and his food was not sufficient for a long march. As the little army went further and further into the wilderness, they began to face the possibility of starvation. When at last they approached the Occaneechee country and received promises of aid from Persicles, their provisions were nearly exhausted.

Upon reaching the Roanoke the English crossed the north branch of the river and encamped upon the Occaneechee island. To his deep satisfaction, Bacon found Persicles embroiled with the Susquehannocks, and already preparing for their destruction. When these wanderers from the north first came to him, Persicles had received them with kindness and had relieved their needs. But they, “being exercised in warr for many years with the Senecaes, and living on rapin, endeavoured to beat the Ockinagees of their own Island". Persicles had defeated them, however, and forced them to take refuge in their two forts.

Now the Susquehannocks, in their southward march, had subdued and brought with them some members of the Mannakin and Annelecton tribes. These savages, although they lived with their conquerors, had no love for them, and were quite willing to join in any plan for their destruction. Persicles, it would seem, was plotting with them to surprise and cut off the Susquehannocks, when Bacon appeared with his men. Fearing, no doubt, that the participation of the English in the attack would render secrecy impossible, Persicles left them on the island, and went out alone against the enemy. The Mannakins and Annelectons proved true to their allies and the Susquehannocks were easily defeated. Persicles returned in triumph, bringing with him several prisoners. These he wished the English to execute, but they “refused to take that office". Thereupon he himself put them to death with all the usual Indian tortures, “running fyer brands up their bodys & the like".

But now the friendship of Persicles and the English came abruptly to an end. The Berkeley party afterwards claimed that Bacon deliberately picked a quarrel with his allies, and attacked them without provocation. It would be unjust, however, to place too much confidence in these charges. Bacon’s men found themselves in a most critical situation. They were many miles from the plantations, surrounded by the savages, their provisions exhausted. Persicles, they asserted, had failed to keep his promise to supply them with food. He was assuming a threatening posture, manning his forts, and lining the river bank with his warriors. For Bacon to retreat from the island under these circumstances, would have exposed his company to destruction. To remain passive was to starve.

As the English became more insistent in their demands for food, Persicles retired to one of his forts, and refused further conference. Many of the savages, seeing hostilities imminent, deserted their cabins and began to rush in through the entrances of their fortresses. But Bacon interposed his men, and succeeded in shutting out many of them. Now from the Indians across the river came a shot, and one of the English fell dead. Instantly Bacon ordered a general attack. The defenseless men, women and children left in the cabins were mercilessly butchered. At the same time fire was opened upon the forts. The soldiers rushed up to the portholes, and poured their volleys directly in upon the wretched savages. A hideous din arose. The singing and howling of the warriors was mingled with the moans of the dying. Fire was set to one of the forts, in which were the king’s wife and children. As the flames arose, three or four braves made a dash for safety through the line of the English. All others in this fort, including the king’s family, perished amid the burning timbers.

The next day the fight was continued from morn till night. Several times the savages sallied forth from their remaining forts, and placing themselves behind trees, opened fire upon the English. But Bacon’s frontiersmen were accustomed to this method of warfare. So well were they posted and so cleverly concealed, that most of the enemy were picked off as they stood. At last Persicles himself led forth a party of about twenty men in a desperate attack upon his enemy. With great bravery they rushed around the English in a wide circle, howling and firing. But they too were unsuccessful. Persicles was killed. Several of his men were shot on the bank of the river, and fell into the water. Of all this party seven only were seen to escape.

It now seemed hopeless for the Indians to fight further. With their king and many of their warriors dead, and with one of their forts in ruins, their ultimate destruction was certain if they remained upon the island. So, with their women and children, they deserted the remaining forts and escaped. How they managed to slip past the victorious white men and make their way across the river is not explained. Thinking it best not to follow, Bacon secured his plunder, and turned his face back towards the plantations.

The news of the victory over the savages was received with enthusiasm in the frontier counties. Bacon had been popular with the people before; he now became their idol. He and his men, upon their return, found the entire colony deeply interested in the election of a new House of Burgesses. In various places popular candidates, men in sympathy with Bacon, were being nominated. In Henrico county the people showed their contempt for the Governor’s proclamations by electing Bacon himself.

But it would be a matter of no little risk for him to go to Jamestown to take his seat in the Assembly. While surrounded by his loyal frontiersmen in his own county he might well ignore the proclamations against him, but if he put himself in the Governor’s power, that fiery old man might not hesitate to hang him as a rebel. His friends would not allow him to go unprotected, and insisted upon sending with him a guard of forty or fifty armed men. Embarking with this company in a sloop, Bacon wended his way down the crooked James to the capital. He cast anchor a short distance above the town and sent to the Governor to know whether he would be allowed to take his seat in the Assembly without molestation. For reply Sir William opened fire upon the sloop with the guns of the fort. Whereupon Bacon sailed further up the river out of danger. But that night he landed with twenty of his men, and unobserved by any, slipped silently into town.

In the place resided Richard Lawrence and William Drummond, both deeply impressed with the need of reform in Virginia, and both in sympathy with Bacon’s movement. Repairing to Lawrence’s house, Bacon conferred with these two friends for several hours. Upon reembarking he was discovered. Alarm was immediately given in the town and several boats filled with armed men pursued him up the river. At the same time Captain Gardner, commanding the ship Adam and Eve, was ordered to follow the fugitives, and capture or sink the sloop. For some hours Bacon eluded them all. Finally, however, about three the next afternoon, he was driven by the small boats under the guns of the Adam and Eve, and forced to surrender. Coming on board he was entrusted to Captain Gardner and Captain Hubert Farrill, and by them conducted to the Governor.

As the prisoner was led before him, the old man lifted his eyes and arms to Heaven, exclaiming, “Now I behold the greatest Rebell that ever was in Virginia!" After some moments he added, “Mr. Bacon, doe you continue to be a gentleman? And may I take your word? If so you are at liberty upon your parol." Later, when the rebel expressed gratitude at this mild treatment and repentance for his disobedience, Berkeley promised to grant him a free pardon. And should he offer a humble submission, he was to be restored to his seat in the Council, and even receive the long desired commission.

In this unexpected leniency the Governor was probably actuated not by magnanimity, but by policy, or perhaps necessity. When the rebel was out upon his Indian expedition, Sir William had not scrupled to tell Mrs. Bacon that he would most certainly hang her husband, if ever he got him in his power. But now he dared not do so. Bacon was regarded by a large part of the people as their leader in a struggle for justice and liberty; to treat him too harshly might set the entire colony ablaze. In fact, many frontiersmen, when they heard of the capture of their hero, did hasten down to Jamestown with dreadful threats of revenge should a hair of his head be touched. And throughout the colony the mutterings of impending insurrection were too loud to be mistaken or ignored.

A few days after the capture, at a meeting of Council and Assembly, the Governor arose from his chair, saying, “If there be joy in the presence of the angels over one sinner that repenteth, there is joy now, for we have a penitent sinner come before us. Call Mr. Bacon.” Whereupon the rebel entered, and dropping upon his knee, presented his submission. “God forgive you,” said the Governor, “I forgive you.” “And all that were with him?” asked one of the Council. “Yea,” said Sir William, “all that were with him." That very day Bacon was restored to his seat in the Council. The soldiers that had been captured with him were freed from their chains and permitted to return to their homes. And, to the great joy of the people, it was publicly announced by one of the Burgesses, that Bacon had been granted a commission as general in the Indian war. Feeling that all was now well, and that their presence in Jamestown was no longer necessary, the sturdy frontiersmen shouldered their fusils, and returned to their plantations.

But the reconciliation could be but temporary. Bacon’s repentance and submission had been forced from him while helpless in the Governor’s power. He did not consider it morally binding. And so long as the people’s grievances were not righted, and the Indian war was neglected, he could not be content to remain inactive and submissive. On the other hand, Sir William probably felt that his promise of a commission had been exacted by the unlawful threats of Bacon’s friends, and might be broken without dishonor.

After waiting several days for his papers, Bacon became suspicious of the Governor’s intentions, and set out for his home in Henrico. Berkeley consented to his departure, and he took “civill leave”, but immediately afterwards he repented bitterly that he had let his enemy thus slip through his fingers. It is probable that information came to him just too late, that Bacon was again meditating resistance. Parties of men were sent out upon the roads and up the river to intercept his flight. The very beds of his lodging house were searched in desperate haste, in the hope that he had not yet left Jamestown. But all in vain. Bacon had ridden quietly out of town, without servants or friends, and was now far on his way towards the frontier.

On his arrival at Henrico, his old comrades flocked around him, eager to be led out against the Indians, and confident in the belief that Bacon was authorized to command them. And when they learned that he had not secured a commission, and was once more a fugitive, they “sett their throats in one common key of Oathes and curses, and cried out aloud, that they would either have a Commission ... or else they would pull downe the Towne". And as the news spread from place to place, rough, angry men came flocking in to Bacon, promising that if he would but lead them to the Governor, they would soon get him what he pleased. “Thus the raging tumult came downe to Towne."

Vague rumors began to reach the Assembly that Bacon was marching on Jamestown at the head of five hundred men. By June the twenty-second, it became definitely known that the rebels were approaching. Berkeley sent out several messengers to demand their intentions, but could get no satisfactory reply. Hasty preparations were made to defend the town. The neighboring militia was summoned. Four guns were dragged to Sandy Bay to command the narrow neck of land that connected the peninsula with the left bank of the river. It was proposed to construct palisades across the isthmus. Early on the morning of the 23d, Berkeley went out himself to direct the mounting of the guns. But it was too late. On all sides the people were crying, “To arms! To arms! Bacon is within two miles of the town.” The rebels were threatening, it was reported, that if a gun was fired against them, they would kill and destroy all. Seeing that resistance would be useless, and might be fatal, the Governor ordered the guns to be dismounted, withdrew his soldiers, and retired to the state house.

And so the rebels streamed unresisted into the town, a motley crew of many sorts and conditions: Rough, weather-beaten, determined frontiersmen, bent on having the commission for their leader; poor planters, sunk deep in debt, denouncing the government and demanding relief from their taxes; freedmen whose release from bondage had brought them little but hunger and nakedness. Moderation and reason were not to be expected of such a band, and it is not strange that many of them talked openly of overthrowing the government and sharing the property of the rich among themselves. Sixteen years of oppression and injustice were bearing their natural fruit rebellion.

“Now tagg, ragg & bobtayle carry a high hand." Bacon leaves a force to guard Sandy Bay, stations parties at the ferry and the fort, and draws up his little army before the state-house. Two Councillors come out from Berkeley to demand what he wants. Bacon replies that he has come for a commission as general of volunteers enrolled against the Indians. And he protests that if the Assembly intends a levy for new forces, his men will refuse to pay it. The ragged troops shout their approval with cries of “Noe Levies! Noe Levies!"

It is easy to imagine with what anger the Governor drew up and signed the commission. But he dared not refuse it. He was in the power of the rebels, who were already muttering threats of bloodshed and pillage. To defy them might bring instant ruin. When the commission was brought out, and Bacon had read it to his soldiers, he refused to accept it, declaring the powers granted insufficient. Thereupon he drew up the heads of a new paper, in which his loyalty to the king and the legality of his past actions were attested, and an appointment given him as general of all the forces in Virginia used in the Indian war.

These new demands throw the old Governor into an uncontrollable rage. He rushes out to Bacon, gesticulating wildly, and declaring that rather than sign such a paper he will have his hands cut off. In his excitement he opens his bosom, crying out, “Here, shoot me, fore God fair mark." Then he offers to measure swords with the rebel before all his men, shouting, “Let us settle this difference singly between ourselves." But Bacon ignores these ravings. “Sir,” he says, “I come not nor intend to hurt a haire of your Honors head. And for your sword, your Honor may please to put it up, it will rust in the scabbard before ever I shall desire you to draw it. I come for a commission against the Heathen who daily inhumanly murder us and spill our bretherens blood."

In the general distraction somebody takes the proposals to the Burgesses, now sitting in an upper chamber of the state house. Bacon struts impatiently below, muttering threats and “new coyned oathes". At a window of the Assembly room are a number of faces, looking out on the exciting scenes below. Bacon calls up to them, “You Burgesses, I expect your speedy result.” His soldiers shout, “We will have it, we will have it.” At a command from Bacon the rebels cock their fusils, and take aim at the crowded window. “For God’s sake hold your hands,” cry the Burgesses, “forbear a little and you shall have what you please." And now there is wild excitement, confusion and hurrying to and fro. From all sides the Governor is pressed to grant the commission in Bacon’s own terms. At last he yields, and the paper is signed.

But new humiliation awaited him. The next morning Bacon entered the House of Burgesses with an armed guard, demanding that certain persons active in obeying the Governor’s orders should be deprived of all offices, and that recent letters to the King denouncing him as a rebel should be publicly contradicted. When Berkeley heard of these demands, he swore he would rather suffer death than submit to them. But the Burgesses, who thought it not unlikely that they might soon have their throats cut, advised him to grant whatever was demanded. So a letter was written to the King, and signed by the Governor, the Council and the Burgesses, expressing confidence in Bacon’s loyalty and justifying his past actions. Several of Berkeley’s friends were committed to prison. Blank commissions for officers to command under Bacon in the Indian war were presented for signature. The Governor granted all, “as long as they concerned not life and limb”, being “willing to be ridd of him”. The Assembly finished its session, and thinking to appease the rebels, sent their laws out to be read before them. But they rose up like a swarm of bees, and swore they would have no laws. Yet the legislation of this session was exceedingly liberal. The elections had been held at a time when the people were bitterly angry with the Governor and disgusted with the old regime. In several counties popular candidates, men bent upon reform, had been elected over Berkeley’s friends. These men, aided by the menacing attitude of the people, had initiated a series of bills designed to restrict the Governor’s power and to restore to the commons their rightful share in local government. But it was probably the presence of Bacon with his ragged troops at Jamestown that brought about the final passage of the bills. The Governor and the Council would hardly have given their consent, had they not been forced to do so at the sword’s point.

Indeed these laws aimed a telling blow at the aristocratic cliques that had so long controlled all local government. It was to be illegal in the future, for any man to serve as sheriff for two consecutive terms. Surveyors, escheators, clerks of the court and sheriffs should hold only one office at a time. The self-perpetuating vestries which had long controlled the parishes and levied church taxes, were to give place to bodies elected tri-annually by the freemen. An act was passed restricting the power of the county courts. For the future the people were to elect representatives, equal in number with the justices, to sit with them, and have a voice “in laying the countie assessments, and of making wholesome lawes". Councillors were no longer to be exempt from taxation. The act of 1670, restricting the right to vote for Burgesses to freeholders was abolished, and the franchise extended to all freemen. And since “the frequent false returns” of elections had “caused great disturbances”, it was enacted that any sheriff found guilty of this crime should be fined twenty thousand pounds of tobacco.

Hardly had the Assembly closed its session when the news was received that the Indians were again on the war-path, having killed eight persons in the upper counties. This caused great alarm in the rebel army, and Bacon found it necessary the next day to lead them back to the frontier that they might guard their homes and families.

Here active preparations were made for a new expedition against the savages. Now that Bacon had a commission signed by the Governor and confirmed with the public seal, men were quite eager to follow him. On all sides volunteers flocked in to offer their services against the brutal enemy. Even Councillors and Burgesses encouraged their neighbors to enlist, declaring that no exception could be taken to the legality of the commission. Thus hundreds swallowed “down so fair a Bait, not seeing Rebellion at the end of it".

In the meanwhile, the Governor, angered at the great indignities put upon him, was planning to regain his lost authority. A petition was drawn up in Gloucester county by Sir William’s friends, denouncing Bacon, and asking that forces be raised to suppress him. Although most of the Gloucestermen, it would seem, had no part in this request, Berkeley crossed over the York River to their county and began to enlist volunteers. But he met with little success. Even in this part of the colony Bacon was the popular hero, and men refused to serve against him. It seemed outrageous to many that while he was out to fight the common enemy, the Governor should attack him in the rear. All his desperate efforts were in vain. Sick at heart and exhausted from exertions too great for his age, he is said to have fainted away in the saddle.

The news that Berkeley was raising forces reached Bacon at the falls of James River, just as he was going to strike out into the woods. “Immediately he causes the Drums to Beat and Trumpets to sound for calling his men to-gether.". “Gentlemen and Fellow Soldiers,” he says, when they are assembled, “the news just now brought me, may not a little startle you as well as myselfe. But seeing it is not altogether unexpected, wee may the better beare it and provide our remedies. The Governour is now in Gloster County endeavouring to raise forces against us, having declared us Rebells and Traytors.... It is Revenge that hurries them on without regard to the Peoples safety. (They) had rather wee should be Murder’d and our Ghosts sent to our slaughter’d Countrymen by their actings, then wee live to hinder them of their Interest with the Heathen.... Now then wee must be forced to turne our Swords to our own Defence, or expose ourselves to their Mercyes.... Let us descend to know the reasons why such a proceedings are used against us ... (why) those whome they have raised for their Defence, to preserve them against the Fury of the Heathen, they should thus seek to Destroy. (Was there) ever such a Theachery ... heard of, such Wickednesse and inhumanity? But they are damned Cowards, and you shall see they will not dare to meet us in the field to try the Justnesse of our Cause."

Whereupon the soldiers all cried, “Amen. Amen.” They were ready to follow him. They would rather die fighting than be hanged like rogues. It would be better to attack the Governor at once than have him come upon their rear while they were engaged in the woods with the savages. And so, with universal acclaim, they gathered up their arms, and set out to give battle to the Governor.

But Berkeley had fled. Upon finding that the militia of Gloucester and Middlesex would not support him, he had taken ship for the Eastern Shore. Here, for the time being, he was safe from the angry rebels. It would be difficult for Bacon to secure vessels enough to transport his men over to Accomac; to march them hundreds of miles around the head of Chesapeake Bay was out of the question.

The flight of the Governor left Bacon undisputed master of all the mainland of Virginia. Everywhere he was hailed by the people as their hero and deliverer. Those that still remained loyal to Sir William either fled with him or rendered their submission to the rebel. For a while, at least, he could prosecute the Indian war and redress the public grievances without fear of interruption.

But now Bacon was confronted with the question of what attitude he should assume to the English government. Berkeley had written home denouncing him as a rebel and traitor. The King assuredly would not tolerate his conduct. No doubt preparations were already being made to send British troops to the colony. Should he defy the King and resist his soldiers in the field of battle?

Bacon made up his mind to fight. The dense woods, the many swamps and creeks, the vast distances of the colony would all be favorable to him. He would resort to the Indian method of fighting. His men were as brave as the British; were better marksmen. Five hundred Virginians, he was sure, would be a match for two thousand red coats. If England sought to bring him to his knees, by blockading the coast and cutting off all foreign trade, he would appeal to the Dutch or even to the French for assistance. Assuredly these nations would not neglect so favorable an opportunity of injuring their old rival and enemy. He even cherished a wild dream of leading his rebels back into the woods, to establish a colony upon an island in the Roanoke river.

But Bacon knew that the people would hesitate to follow him into open resistance to England. Ties of blood, of religion, of interest were too strong. All the injustice done them by the King, all the oppression of the Navigation Acts, could not make them forget that they were Englishmen. So he found it necessary to deceive them with a pretence of loyalty. He himself took the oath of allegiance and supremacy, and he imposed it upon all his followers. His commands were issued in the King’s name. He even went to the absurd extremity of declaring it for the service of the Crown to disobey the King’s commands, to arrest the King’s Governor, to fight the King’s troops.

Realizing that resistance to his plans would come almost entirely from the upper classes, Bacon made especial efforts to seduce the wealthy planters. On August the third, a number of influential gentlemen assembled upon his summons at Middle Plantation, to discuss the means of protecting the people from the Indians, and preventing civil war. After delivering a long harangue, justifying his own actions and denouncing the Governor, Bacon requested the entire company to take three oaths which he had prepared. First, they were to promise to assist him in prosecuting the Indian war. Secondly, they must combat all attempts of the Governor and his friends to raise troops against him. Thirdly, they were asked to declare it consistent with their allegiance to the King to resist the royal troops until his Majesty could be informed by letter from Bacon of the justice of his cause. This last article caused prolonged and bitter controversy. But Bacon locked the doors, it is said, and by persuasion and threats induced them all to sign. The three oaths were taken by no less than sixty-nine prominent men, among them Thomas Swann, Thomas Milner, Philip Lightfoot and Thomas Ballard.

Bacon now felt himself strong enough to take active control of the administration of the government. He did not assume, however, the title of Governor, but styled himself “General by the consent of the people". Nor did he venture to proceed in the alteration of laws or the redress of grievances without the advice and support of the representatives of the people. In conjunction with four members of the Council, he issued orders for an immediate election of a new Assembly, to meet on the fourth of September, at Jamestown.

Having settled these matters, Bacon turned his attention to two military expeditions one against the Indians, the other against the Governor. The continued activity of the savages and the exposed condition of the frontier demanded his personal attention, but he was resolved not to leave the lower counties exposed during his absence to attack from the Eastern Shore. Seizing an English ship, commanded by a Captain Larrimore, which was lying in James River, he impressed her, with all her crew, into his service against the Governor. In this vessel, with a sloop and a bark of four guns, he embarked a force of two hundred or more men. The expedition was placed under the command of Captain William Carver, “a valiant, stout Seaman”, and Gyles Bland, both devoted to Bacon’s cause and high in his favor. They were ordered to patrol the coast to prevent raids upon the Western Shore, and, if possible, to attack and capture the Governor.

Bacon himself hastens to Henrico, “where he bestirs himself lustily in order to a Speedy March against the Indians”. It was his intention to renew his attack upon the Occaneechees and the Susquehannocks, but for some reason he gave up this design to turn against the Pamunkeys. Hastening across from the James to the York, Bacon met Colonel Gyles Brent, who brought with him reinforcements from the plantations upon the upper waters of the Rappahannock and Potomac. Their united forces marched to the extreme frontier and plunged into the wilderness. Discovering a narrow path running through the forest, the English followed it to a small Pamunkey village situated upon a neck of land between two swamps. As Bacon’s Indian scouts advanced upon the place they were fired upon by the enemy. Whereupon the English came running up to assault the village. But the Pamunkeys deserted their cabins and fled into the adjacent swamps, where the white men found it impossible to pursue them. All made good their escape except one woman and one little child.

Continuing his march, Bacon stumbled upon an old squaw, the nurse of the Pamunkey queen, whom he ordered to act as his guide. But the woman, unwilling to betray her people, led him far astray, many miles from the Indian settlements. The English followed her “the remainder of that day & almost another day” before they discovered that they were being deceived. When sure of her treachery, “Bacon gave command to his soldiers to knock her on the head, which they did, and left her dead on the way". The army now wandered around at random in the woods, following first one path and then another, but could not discover the enemy. The appointed time for the new Assembly was approaching, and it was imperative for Bacon to be at Jamestown to open the session. He was resolved, however, not to return to the colony until he had struck a decisive blow at the Indians. Sending a message to the people “that he would be with them with all possible speed”, he resumed his discouraging quest.

But the Indians still eluded him. It seemed a hopeless task to discover their villages amid the dense woods and treacherous swamps. His men became discouraged. “Tyred, murmuring, impatient, hunger-starv’d”, many begged him to lead them back to the plantations. But Bacon would not abandon the expedition. He would rather die in the woods, he said, than disappoint the confidence reposed in him by the people. Those that felt it necessary to return home, he would permit to depart unmolested. But for himself, he was resolved to continue the march even though it became necessary to exist upon chincapins and horse flesh. Whereupon the army was divided, one part setting out for the colony, the other resuming the search for the savages.

That very day Bacon runs upon the main camp of the Pamunkeys and immediately attacks them. The savages are encamped upon a “piece of Champion land”, protected on three sides by swamps, and covered with a dense growth of “small oke, saplings, Chinkapin-Bushes and grape vines”. As the English charge in among them they offer little resistance, but desert their habitations and flee. Some are shot down, many are captured. Bacon takes possession of all their goods “Indian matts, Basketts, Match côtés, parcells of Wampameag and Roanoke, Baggs, Skins, ffurs”, etc.

The poor queen fled for her life with one little boy, and wandered fourteen days in the woods, separated from her people. “She was once coming back with désigne to throw herself upon the mercy of the English”, but “happened to meet with a deade Indian woman lying in the way, ... which struck such terror in the Queen that fearing their cruelty by that ghastly example, shee went on ... into the wild woodes”. Here she was preserved from starvation by eating part of a terrapin, found by the little boy. After this victory, Bacon secured his plunder and his captives, and hastened back to the plantations.

In the meanwhile the expedition against Accomac had ended in disastrous failure. Carver and Bland had been given instructions to capture the Governor, and Bacon proposed, if ever he got him in his power, to send him to England, there to stand trial for his misgovernment and his betrayal of the people to the barbarous Indians. Even though it was quite probable that the King would send him back, the colony would for a time be rid of his troublesome presence.

Upon the arrival of the little fleet off the coast of Accomac, it was decided to send Carver ashore under a flag of truce, to treat with the Governor. Leaving Bland to guard the fleet with a force not superior in number to the English sailors, Carver set out in the sloop “with the most trusty of his men". In the meanwhile Captain Larrimore and his sailors, who resented their enforced service with the rebels, were plotting to betray them to the enemy. In some way Larrimore contrived to get a message to Berkeley, requesting him to send out a party of loyal gentlemen in boats, and promising to deliver his ship into their hands. The Governor at first was loath to venture upon such a hazardous undertaking. The whole thing might be a snare to entrap his men. Yet his situation was desperate; he must take desperate chances.

Placing a party of twenty-six men in two small boats, he sent them out under the command of Colonel Philip Ludwell, to surprise the ship. Fearing that Carver might return before the capture could be effected, Berkeley “caressed him with wine”, and detained him with prolonged negotiations. Upon reaching the ship, Ludwell and his men rowed up close under her side, and clambered in at “the gun room ports”. “One courageous gentleman ran up to the deck, and clapt a pistoll to Bland’s breast, saying you are my prisoner." The rest of the company followed upon his heels, brandishing their pistols and swords. Captain Larrimore and his crew caught up spikes, which they had ready at hand, and rushed to Ludwell’s assistance. The rebels, taken utterly by surprise, many no doubt without arms, “were amazed and yielded".

A short while after, Carver was seen returning in the sloop from his interview with the Governor. “They permit the boat to come soe neere as they might ffire directly downe upon her, and soe they alsoe commanded Carver on Board & secured him. When hee saw this surprize he stormed, tore his haire off, and curst, and exclaimed at the Cowardize of Bland that had betrayed and lost all their désigne." Not long after he was tried for treason by court martial, condemned, and hanged.

Elated by this unexpected success, the Governor determined to make one more effort to regain his lost authority. The rebels were now without a navy; they could not oppose him upon the water, or prevent his landing upon the Western Shore. With the gentlemen that had remained loyal to him, the troops of Accomac, many runaway servants and English sailors he was able to raise a force of several hundred men. Embarking them in Captain Larrimore’s ship, in the Adam and Eve, and sixteen or seventeen sloops, he set sail for Jamestown.

In the meanwhile the appointed date for the convening of the Assembly had come. It is probable that the members were arriving to take their seats when the news of the Governor’s approach reached the town. Bacon was still absent upon the Pamunkey expedition. There seems to have been no one present capable of inspiring the rebels with confidence, or of leading them in a vigorous defense. When the sails of the Governor’s fleet were seen, on the seventh of September, wending their way up the river, the place was thrown into the wildest confusion. Sir William sent a message ashore, offering a pardon to all, with the exception of Lawrence and Drummond, that would lay down their arms and return to their allegiance. But few seem to have trusted him, “feareing to meet with some afterclaps of revenge". That night, before the place could be fully invested, the rebels fled, “every one shifting for himselfe with no ordnary feare". “Collonell Larence ... forsooke his owne howse with all his wealth and a faire cupbord of plate entire standing, which fell into the Governour’s hands the next morning."

This was the unwelcome news which greeted Bacon upon his return from the Indian expedition. So many of his soldiers had left for their homes before the final defeat of the Pamunkeys, that he now had with him less than one hundred and fifty men. Yet he resolved to march at once upon Jamestown to attack the Governor. His little band gave him enthusiastic assurance of loyal support. He knew that he had the well wishes and prayers of the people, while his opponents were “loaded with their curses”. Berkeley’s men, although so much more numerous than his own, he believed to be cowards that would not dare appear against him in the field. Victory would be easy and decisive.

So, after delaying a short while to gather reinforcements from New Kent and Henrico, he marched with extraordinary swiftness down upon the enemy. Everywhere along the route he was hailed by the people as their deliverer. The sight of the sullen Indian captives that he led along with him “as in a Shew of Triumph”, caused enthusiastic rejoicing. Many brought forth fruit and other food to refresh his weary soldiers. The women swore that if he had not men enough to defeat the Governor, they themselves would take arms and follow him. All prayed for his success and happiness, and exclaimed against the injustice of his enemies.

Before Berkeley had been in possession of Jamestown one week, Bacon was upon him. On the evening of September the thirteenth, the little rebel band arrived at Sandy Bay, driving before them a party of the Governor’s horse. With singular bravado, Bacon himself rode up to the enemy, fired his carbine at them, and commanded his trumpets to sound their defiance. Few thought, however, he would attempt to capture the town, for the Governor’s position was very strong. The narrow isthmus, by which alone the place could be approached, was defended by three heavy guns planted behind strong palisades. Upon the left, “almost close aborde the shore, lay the ships, with their broadesides to thunder” upon any that dared to assault the works. The loyal forces had recently been augmented to a thousand men, and now outnumbered the rebels three to one. Yet Bacon seems to have meditated from the first an attack upon the place, and was confident of success.

Although his men had marched many miles that day he set them immediately to work within gun-shot of the enemy, building an entrenched camp. All night long, by the light of the moon, the soldiers toiled, cutting bushes, felling trees and throwing up earthworks. But it soon became apparent that their utmost efforts would not suffice to complete the trenches before dawn, when the enemy’s guns would be sure to open upon them. In this dilemma, Bacon hit upon a most unmanly expedient to protect his men at their work. Sending out several small parties of horse, he captured a number of ladies, the wives of some of Berkeley’s most prominent supporters. “Which the next morning he presents to the view of there husbands and ffriends in towne, upon the top of the smalle worke hee had cast up in the night, where he caused them to tarey till hee had finished his defence." The husbands were enraged that the rebels should thus hide behind the “white aprons” of their innocent wives, but they dared not make an assault.

When, however, the ladies were removed, “upon a Signall given from ye Towne the Shipps fire their Great Guns and at the same tyme they let fly their small-Shott from the Palaisadoes. But that small Sconse that Bacon had caused to be made in the night, of Trees, Bruch, and Earth soe defended them that the Shott did them noe damage at all, and was returned back as fast from the little Fortresse."

Fearing that this cannonade will be followed by an assault upon his works, Bacon places a lookout on the top of a near-by brick chimney, which commands a view of the peninsula. On the sixteenth, the watchman announces that the enemy are preparing for an assault, and the rebels make ready to give them a warm reception. The Governor’s forces, six or seven hundred strong, dash across the Sandy Bay, in an attempt to storm Bacon’s redoubts. Horse and foot “come up with a narrow front, pressing very close upon one another’s shoulders”. But many of them fight only from compulsion, and have no heart for their task. At the first volleys of shot that pour in upon them from the rebel army, they throw down their arms and flee. They marched out, as one chronicler says, “like scholars going to school ... with heavy hearts, but returned hom with light heels". Their officers were powerless to stem the rout, until they were safe under the protection of the palisades.

The Governor’s losses in dead and wounded were very small, but the moral effect of his defeat was great. The rebels were so elated at their easy victory, and so scornful of their cowardly opponents, “that Bacon could scarce keep them from immediately falling to storm and enter the Towne". On the other hand, the loyal troops were utterly discouraged. Many of them, that had been “compelled or hired into the Service”, and “were intent only on plunder”, clamored for the desertion of the place, fearing that the victorious rebels would soon burst in upon them.

“The next day Bacon orders 3 grate guns to be brought into the camp, two whereof he plants upon his trench. The one he sets to worke against the Ships, the other against the entrance into the towne, for to open a pasage to his intended storm." Had the rebels delayed no longer to make an assault it seems certain they could have carried the palisades with ease, taken many of the enemy, and perhaps captured the Governor himself. The loyal soldiers were thinking only of flight. “Soe great was the Cowardize and Basenesse of the generality of Sir William Berkeley’s party that of all at last there were only some 20 Gentlemen willing to stand by him.” So that the Governor, “who undoubtedly would rather have dyed on the Place than thus deserted it, what with (the) importunate and resistless solicitations of all was at last over persuaded, nay hurried away against his will". “Takeing along with him all the towne people, and their goods, leaveing all the grate guns naled up, and the howses emty”, he left the place a prey to the rebels. “So fearful of discovery they are, that for Secrecy they imbarque and weigh anchor in the Night and silently fall down the river."

Early the next morning Bacon marched across the Sandy Bay and took possession of the deserted town. Here he learned that the Governor had not continued his flight, but had cast anchor twenty miles below, where he was awaiting a favorable opportunity to recapture the place. At the same time, news came from the north that Colonel Brent, Bacon’s former ally, was collecting troops in the counties bordering upon the Potomac River, and would soon be on the march to the Governor’s assistance, with no less than a thousand men. Should this new army, by acting in concert with the fleet, succeed in blocking Bacon up at Jamestown, the rebels would be caught in a fatal trap. The peninsula could hardly be defended successfully against superior forces by land and water, and they would be crushed between the upper and nether millstones. On the other hand, should they desert the town, in order to go out against Brent, Berkeley would undoubtedly return to take possession of it, and all the fruits of their victory would be lost.

After long consultation with his chief advisors, Bacon decided to destroy the town. That very night he set fire to the place, which in a few hours was reduced to ashes. Not even the state-house, or the old church were spared. Drummond and Lawrence, it is said, showed their unselfish zeal for the cause by applying the torch to their homes with their own hands. As the Governor, from his ships, saw in the distance the glare of the burning buildings, he cursed the cowardice of his soldiers that had forced him to yield the place to the rebels. But as it could now serve him no longer as a base, he weighed anchor, and set sail for Accomac.

Deserting the ruined town, Bacon led his men north to Green Spring, and thence across York River into Gloucester county. Here there came to him a messenger riding “post haste from Rapahanock, with news that Coll: Brent was advancing fast upon him". At once he summons his soldiers around him, tells them the alarming news, and asks if they are ready to fight. The soldiers answer “with showtes and acclamations while the drums thunder a march to meet the promised conflict".

Bacon had advanced not “above 2 or 3 days jurney, but he meets newes ... that Brents men were all run away, and left him to shift for himselfe". Like the troops that had so signally failed of their duty in the battle of Sandy Bay, these northern forces had no desire to meet Bacon. Many of them were undoubtedly pressed into service; many were in sympathy with the rebellion. At all events they deserted their leaders before the hostile army came in sight, and fled back to their homes.

Thus Bacon once more found himself master of all the mainland of Virginia. But his situation was more critical than it had been in July and August. Many of the prominent gentlemen that had then given him their support, and had taken his three oaths, were now fighting on the side of the Governor. It was quite certain that royal forces were being equipped for an expedition to Virginia, and might make their appearance within the capes before many more weeks. Moreover, the disastrous failure of Carver and Bland had left him without a navy and exposed all the Western Shore to attack from the loyal forces in Accomac.

Realizing his danger, Bacon felt it necessary to bind the people to him more closely. Summoning the militia of Gloucester to meet him at their county court-house, he delivered a long harangue before them and tendered them an oath of fidelity. They were asked to swear that if the King’s troops attempted to land by force, they would “fly to-gether as in a common calamity, and jointly with the present Army ... stand or fall in the defense of ... the Country”. And “in Case of utmost Extremity rather then submitt to so miserable a Slavery (when none can longer defend ourselves, our Lives and Liberty’s) to acquit the Colony".

The Gloucestermen were most reluctant to take this oath. A Mr. Cole, speaking for them all, told Bacon that it was their desire to remain neutral in this unhappy civil war. But the rebel replied that if they would not be his friends, they must be his enemies. They should not be idle and reap the benefit of liberty earned by the blood of others. A minister, named Wading, who was active in persuading the men to refuse the oath, was committed to prison by Bacon, with the warning that the church was the proper place for him to preach, not the camp. Later, it seems, fearing the consequences of further refusal, the Gloucester troops yielded and took the binding engagement.

Bacon now turned his thoughts, it is said, to an expedition against Accomac. But his preparations were never completed. For some time he had been ill of dysentery and now was “not able to hould out any longer". He was cared for at the house of a Mr. Pate, in Gloucester county, but his condition soon became worse. His mind, probably wandering in delirium, dwelt upon the perils of his situation. Often he would enquire if the guard around the house was strong, or whether the King’s troops had arrived. Death came before the end of October. Bacon’s place of burial has never been discovered. It is supposed that Lawrence, to save the body of his friend from mutilation by the vindictive old Governor, weighted the coffin with stones and sunk it in the deep waters of the York.

The death of Bacon proved an irreparable loss to the rebels. It was impossible for them to find another leader of his undaunted resolution, his executive ability, his power of command. No one could replace him in the affections of the common people. It would not be correct to attribute the failure of the rebellion entirely to the death of this one man, yet it undoubtedly hastened the end. Had he continued at the head of his faithful army, he might have kept the Governor indefinitely in exile upon the Eastern Shore, or even have driven him to take refuge upon the water. In the end Bacon would have been conquered, for he could not have held out against the English fleet and the English troops. But he would have made a desperate and heroic resistance.

The chief command fell to Lieutenant-General Ingram. The selection seems to have been popular with the soldiers, for when it was announced, they “threw up their caps, crying out as loud as they could bellow, God save our new Generall". Ingram is depicted by some of the chroniclers as a man of low birth, a dandy and a fool, but there is reason to believe their impeachment too harsh. Although he lacked Bacon’s force of character and had no executive ability, as a general he showed considerable talent, and more than held his own against the Governor.

The mastery of the water was an advantage to Berkeley of the very greatest importance. The numerous deep rivers running far up into the country made it easy for him to deliver swift, telling blows at any point in the enemy’s position. In order to guard the James, the York and the Rappahannock it became necessary for the rebels to divide their forces into several small bands. On the other hand, the entire strength of the loyalists could be concentrated at any time for an unexpected attack.

Ingram made his chief base at West Point, where the Mattapony and the Pamunkey unite to form the broad and stately York. Here he could watch both banks of the river, and could concentrate his men quickly either upon the Peninsula, or in Gloucester or Middlesex. At this place were gathered several hundred rebels under Ingram himself. But it was deemed wise to leave other detachments at various places lower down in the country, to prevent the enemy from landing, and to suppress any rising of the people in favor of the Governor. At the house of Colonel Bacon, in York county, a force of thirty or forty men were posted under the command of Major Whaly. “The next Parcell, considerable, was at Green Spring, the Governours howse, into which was put about 100 men and boys.” Their leader, a Colonel Drew, fortified the place strongly, barricading all approaches, and planting three large guns “to béate of the Assailants”. Another small detachment, under Colonel Hansford, was posted “at the Howse where Coll: Reade did once live”, the site of famous old Yorktown.

This last post, situated near the mouth of the river, was especially exposed to attack from the Eastern Shore. A few days after the death of Bacon, Major Robert Beverley, with a small force, sailed across the bay to effect its capture. The rebels “kep a negligent Gard”, and were caught completely by surprise. Hansford was taken prisoner, with twenty of his men, and brought in triumph to Accomac.

Here he was at once charged with treason, tried by court martial, and condemned to die. He pleaded passionately to “be shot like a soldier and not to be hanged like a Dog. But it was tould him ... that he was not condemned as he was merely a soldier, but as a Rebell, taken in Arms." To the last he refused to admit that he was guilty of treason. To the crowd that gathered around the scaffold to witness his execution he protested “that he dyed a loyal subject and a lover of his country”.

“This business being so well accomplish’d by those who had taken Hansford, ... they had no sooner deliver’d there Fraight at Accomack, but they hoyse up there sayles, and back againe to Yorke River, where with a Marvellous celerity they surprise one Major Cheise-Man, and som others, amongst whom one Capt. Wilford, who (it is saide) in the bickering lost one of his eyes, which he seemed little concern’d at, as knowing that when he came to Accomack, that though he had bin starke blinde, yet the Governour would take care for to afford him a guide, that should show him the way to the Gallows."

The Governor was resolved to make the rebel leaders pay dearly for the indignities they had put upon him. Those that were so luckless as to fall into his hands, were hastened away to their execution with but the mockery of a trial. Doubtless Berkeley felt himself justified in this severity. To him rebellion against the King was not merely a crime, it was a hideous sacrilege. Those guilty of such an enormity should receive no mercy. But this cannot explain or excuse the coarse brutality and savage joy with which he sent his victims to the scaffold. It is impossible not to feel that many of these executions were dictated, not by motives of policy or loyalty, but by vindictiveness.

Nothing can make this more evident that the pathetic story of Madam Cheesman. “When ... the Major was brought in to the Governor’s presence, and by him demanded, what made him to ingage in Bacon’s designes? Before that the Major could frame an Answer ... his Wife steps in and tould his honr: that it was her provocations that made her Husband joyne in the Cause that Bacon contended for; ading, that if he had not bin influenced by her instigations, he had never don that which he had don. Therefore (upon her bended knees) she desires of his hour ... that shee might be hang’d, and he pardon’d. Though the Governour did know, that that what she had saide, was neare to the truth,” he refused her request and spurned her with a vile insult. It is with a sense of relief that we learn that her husband died in prison and was thus saved the ignominy of the gallows.

Encouraged by his successes, Berkeley now planned a more formidable invasion of the Western Shore. Public sentiment, he hoped, was beginning to turn in his favor. The death of Bacon had deprived the rebellion of all coherency and definiteness of purpose. The country was getting weary of the struggle, and was anxious for the reestablishment of law and order. In Gloucester and Middlesex especially there were many prominent planters that awaited an opportunity to take up arms against the rebels. And although the common people were indifferent to the Governor’s cause, they would be forced to enlist under him could he but get a firm foothold in those counties.

So he sailed into York River with a fleet of four ships and several sloops, and a force of one hundred soldiers. Landing a party, under command of Major Robert Beverley, upon the north bank, he surprised and captured a number of the enemy at the residence of a Mr. Howard. He then set up his standard at the very house in which Bacon had died, and sent out summons to all loyal citizens to come to his support. Here there soon “appeared men enough to have beaten all the Rebells in the countrey, onely with their Axes and Hoes". They were quickly organized into an army and placed under the command of Major Lawrence Smith. Almost simultaneously the people of Middlesex began to take up arms in support of the Governor, and for a while it seemed that the rebels would be overwhelmed and driven back upon the frontiers.

But Ingram acted with vigor and promptness. He dispatched a body of horse, under Lientenant-General Walkelett, to attack and disperse the Middlesex troops before their numbers become formidable. With the main body of the rebels he himself remained at West Point, to watch the movements of the enemy in Gloucester. When Major Smith heard of Walkelett’s advance, he at once hastened north to intercept him, leaving a garrison at Mr. Pate’s house, to guard that post and maintain intact his communication with the fleet in York River. But he was not quick enough. Before he could complete his march, news came to him that Walkelett had dispersed the Middlesex troops and was preparing to give battle to him.

In the meanwhile, Ingram, hearing that Smith had marched north, “by the advice of his officers strikes in betweene him and his new made Garrisson at M. Pates. He very nimbly invests the Howse”, and forces its defenders to surrender. Hardly had he accomplished this task, “but M. L. Smith, having retracted his march out of Middlesex ... was upon the back of Ingram before he was aware”. This new move placed the rebels in no little peril, for the Gloucester forces were between them and their base at West Point. Defeat at this juncture would have meant utter destruction for Ingram’s army.

As the two bands faced each other, “one Major Bristow (on Smith’s side) made a Motion to try the equity, and justness of the quarrill, by single combett ... proffering himselfe against any one (being a Gent.) on the other side.... This motion was as redely accepted by Ingram, as proffered by Bristow; Ingram swaring, the newest oath in fashion, that he would be the Man; and so advanceth on foot, with sword and Pistell, against Bristow; but was fetched back by his owne men”, who had no desire to risk their leader in this duel.

But the Gloucester troops were not inspired to deeds of courage by the intrepidity of their champion. They had no desire to encounter the veterans that had defeated the Governor before Jamestown and twice hunted the savages out of their hidden lairs. Despite all the efforts of their officers they opened negotiations with Ingram and agreed to lay down their arms. No less than six hundred men, it is said, thus tamely surrendered to the rebels. Major Smith and some of his officers, when they found themselves betrayed by their men, fled and made good their escape. Other “chiefe men” fell into the enemy’s hands and were held as prisoners of war. Ingram “dismist the rest to their own abodes".

It was a part of the Governor’s plan to secure a foothold also upon the right bank of the river and to drive the rebels out of York county. With this in view, he sent out one hundred and twenty men, under Captain Hubert Farrill, to surprise and capture the rebels commanded by Major Whaly, at Colonel Bacon’s house. To advise and assist Farrill, Colonel Ludwell and Colonel Bacon himself accompanied the expedition. They decided to steal silently up to the place in the early hours of the morning before dawn, drive in the sentries and “enter pell mell with them into the howse”. But their plans miscarried woefully. “The Centrey had no sooner made the challenge ... who comes there? ... but the other answer with their Musquits (which seldom speakes the language of friends) and that in so loud a maner, that it alarmed those in the howse to a defence, and then to a posture to salley out.” The attacking party took refuge “behinde som out buildings, ... giving the Bullits leave to grope their owne way in the dark”. Here they stood their ground for a short while and then fled back to their boats. Several were taken prisoners, but none were killed save Farrill himself, “whose commission was found droping-wett with blood, in his pockett".

The failure of these operations in the York were partly offset by successes in the southern counties. Late in December a loyal force, consisting in part of English sailors, landed on the right bank of the James and defeated a party of the rebels, killing their leader and taking thirteen prisoners. Four days later, they captured one of the enemy’s forts. Soon large parts of Isle of Wight and Surry had been overrun and the people reduced to their allegiance. During the first week of January several hundred rebels gathered upon the upper James to retrieve their waning cause, but they seem to have melted away without accomplishing anything, and at once all the south bank of the river submitted.

Almost simultaneously in all other parts of the colony the rebellion collapsed. The defeats of the Governor in Gloucester, Middlesex and York had not long postponed the end. The failure of the movement was due, not to military successes by Berkeley, but to hopeless internal weakness. Since the death of Bacon the insurgent leaders had been unable to maintain law and order in the colony. Ingram, although he showed some ability as a general, proved utterly unfitted to assume control of civil affairs. Bacon, when Sir William fled to Accomac, had grasped firmly the reins of government, calling a part of the Council to his assistance, summoning a new Assembly, and retaining sheriffs and justices in their offices. Like Cromwell, he had shown himself not only a soldier, but a civil ruler of force and ability. But Ingram could not command the respect and obedience of the people. Under him the machinery of government seems to have broken down. The unhappy colony was given over to disorder and anarchy. We are inclined to wonder why Drummond or Lawrence did not assume the chief command in the government after Bacon’s death. Both were men of intelligence and ability, both esteemed by the people, and both devoted heart and soul to the rebellion. For some reason, neither could take the leadership, and affairs fell into hopeless confusion.

Without a government to supply their needs, or to direct their movements, the rebel bands found it necessary to maintain themselves by plundering the estates of the Governor’s friends. Many wealthy planters paid for their loyalty with the loss of their cattle, their sheep, their corn and wheat, and often the very furniture of their houses. At times the rebel officers could not restrain their rough soldiers from wanton waste and destruction. Crops were ruined, fences thrown down, houses burned. Disgusted with this anarchy, and seeing that Ingram could not preserve order, many of the people began to long for the end of the rebellion. Even the misgoverment of Berkeley was better than lawlessness and confusion.

Ingram himself seems to have perceived that the end was at hand. Intelligence came to him that some of his own party, dissatisfied with his conduct, were awaiting an opportunity to deprive him of the chief command. The long expected arrival of the English troops would bring swift and complete ruin, for under the present conditions, he could not hope for success against them. So he soon became quite willing “to dismount from the back of that horse which he wanted skill, and strength to Manidge”. Could he but secure a pardon from the Governor, he would gladly desert the failing cause of the people, and return to his allegiance.

Nor was Sir William less anxious to come to terms with Ingram. It had been a bitter humiliation to him to be thrust headlong out of his government by the rebellious people. It would add to his shame to be restored by English troops. Could he but reduce the colony before the arrival of the red coats, his position would appear in a much better light, both in Virginia and in England. So he sent a Captain Grantham to negotiate with Ingram and to offer him immunity and pardon in return for prompt submission. The rebel leader willingly accepted these terms and returned to his allegiance.

More delicate was the task of inducing the troops at West Point to follow the example of their general. It was a question whether Ingram, “or any in the countrye could command them to lay down their arms”. An attempt to betray them, or to wring the sword out their hands by violence would probably end in failure. It was thought more prudent to subdue “these mad fellows” with “smoothe words”, rather than by “rough deeds”. So Grantham presented himself to them, told of Ingram’s submission and offered them very liberal terms of surrender. They were to be paid for the full time of their service since the granting of Bacon’s commission; those that so desired were to be retained in arms to fight the Indians; all servants among them were to secure immediate release from their indentures. Deserted by their leader and tempted by these fair promises, the men were at last persuaded to yield. Grantham embarked them on the fleet and took them down to Tindall’s Point, there to make their submission and “kiss the Governour’s hand".

Almost at the same time overtures were made by the Governor to General Walkelett. Could this man be induced to surrender himself and his troops, the last great obstacle to peace would be removed. So anxious was Sir William to seduce him from the cause of the rebels, that he offered him not only his pardon, but part of the plunder taken by Bacon from the Indians. Walkelett assented, and agreed to lead his troops to Tindall’s Point, and “declare for ye King’s Majesty, the Governour & Country”. He was to find there “a considerable Company of resolved men”, to assist him in case his own party offered resistance. This arrangement seems to have been carried out successfully and Walkelett’s entire command was taken.

The collapse of the rebellion sounded the death knell of those “chiefe Incendiaries” Drummond and Lawrence. These men had long protested against Berkeley’s arbitrary government, and had been largely instrumental in bringing on the insurrection. Bacon had considered them his chief advisors and friends. So deep was the Governor’s hatred of them that in his recent proclamations he had excepted them from the general pardon.

When Ingram and Walkelett surrendered, these “arch rebels” were stationed on the south side of the York River, at a place called Brick House. When they heard of Ingram’s intended desertion, they made desperate but futile efforts to prevent his designs. Failing in this, they determined to gather around them the remnants of the rebel forces and march towards the frontier, in hopes of kindling anew the waning spirit of resistance. “They sent downe to Coll: Bacons to fetch of the Gard there, under ... Whaly, to reinforce their own strength.” Whaly, whose position was more exposed than their own, promptly obeyed, and succeeded in bringing off his force with “the last remains of Coll: Bacon’s Estate”. The rebel leaders now mustered about three hundred men, and with these they retreated through New Kent, “thinking (like the snow ball) to increase by their rouleing”. “But finding that in stead of increasing there number decreast; and that the Moone of there fortune was now past the full, they broke up howse-keeping, every one shifting for him selfe."

And now the chief rebels were hunted down like wild beasts by the Governor’s troops. Thomas Hall, formerly clerk of the New Kent county court, Thomas Young, Major Henry Page, and a man named Harris were captured and led before Sir William. They were all tried by court martial, on shipboard off Tindall’s Point, convicted of treason, and at once sent to their execution.

A few days later Drummond was found, exhausted and half starved, hiding in Chickahominy swamp. When he was brought before the Governor, that resentful old man could not restrain his joy. He is said to have “complimented him with the ironicall sarcasm of a low bend”, declaring that he was more welcome than any other man in Virginia, or even his own brother. The next day Berkeley went to Colonel Bray’s house and here Drummond was conducted on foot to stand his trial. “In his way thither he complained very much that his Irons hurt him, and ... expressed abundance of thankes for being permitted to rest himselfe upon the Roade, while he tooke a pipe of Tobacco." But he refused the offer of a horse, saying he would come soon enough to his death on foot.

At his trial he was treated with brutal harshness, his clothes stripped from his back and his ring torn from his finger. Although the rebellion was now over, he was denied jury trial, and was condemned by court martial after a hearing of but half an hour. Some months later, when this matter came to the attention of the English Privy Council, the Lord Chancellor exclaimed that “he knew not whether it were lawful to wish a person alive, otherwise he could wish Sir William Berkeley so, to see what could be answered to such barbarity".

Thus ended the rebellion. Apparently it had accomplished nothing for the cause of liberty or the relief of the oppressed commons. Few of the abuses that had caused the people to take arms had been rectified. The taxes were heavier than ever, the Governor was more severe and arbitrary. English troops were on their way to the colony to enforce submission and obedience. Charles II, irritated at the independent spirit of the Virginians, was meditating the curtailment of their privileges and the suppression of their representative institutions. Yet this attack of an outraged people upon an arbitrary and corrupt government, was not without its benefits. It gave to future Governors a wholesome dread of the commons, and made them careful not to drive the people again into the fury of rebellion. It created a feeling of fellowship among the poor planters, a consciousness of like interests that tended to mould them into a compact class, ready for concerted action in defense of their rights. It gave birth in the breasts of many brave men to the desire to resist by all means possible the oppression of the Stuart kings. It stirred the people to win, in their legislative halls, victories for the cause of liberty, as real as those which Bacon and his followers had failed to secure on the field of battle.