Chapter II: Part 2

And the governor, closing his eyes to the fact that the Pamunkeys hated the English and were sullen and resentful, insisted that they return to their towns and join in the defence of the colony. So their queen was brought in and asked how many men she would furnish. In reply she reproached the English for not giving her people compensation for their aid in a former war in which her husband had been killed. In the end she promised twelve men, but it must have been obvious to all that she and they were not to be trusted. When she had gone the committee proceeded with their plans for prosecuting the war. Some of the forts were to be abandoned and their garrisons distributed among fourteen frontier plantations, and an army of 1,000 men was to be raised and sent out against the enemy.

Bacon was a discontented spectator of these proceedings. The governor was as overbearing as ever, the Burgesses were overawed, the plans for reform were set aside, the Indian war was mismanaged. He must have been disgusted that the Burgesses were too cowardly to vote down a resolution requesting the governor not to resign. The Assembly did not prove "answerable to our expectations", he said later, for which he thought they should be censured. So, telling Berkeley that his wife was ill, he got permission to visit her. No sooner had he gone than the governor heard that he intended to place himself once more at the head of his volunteer army. In desperate haste horsemen galloped off to intercept him. But they were too late. Bacon had made good his escape.

In Henrico angry men gathered around him. And when he told them that the governor had not given him a commission and that he still persisted in carrying out essentially the old plan for the war, they were furious. In Bacon's absence the Indians had renewed their raids, and had wiped out many whole families. The frontiersmen vowed that they would have a commission or they would march on Jamestown and "pull down the town."

So off they went, some mounted, others on foot. There was talk of sharing the estates of the rich, of making Lady Berkeley discard her fine gowns for "canvas linen," of ending all taxes. "Thus the raging torrent came down to town."

When the governor heard that they were coming he made desperate efforts to gather a force to resist them. But it was too late. It was rumored that Bacon had threatened that if a gun was fired at his men he would "kill and destroy all." Since resistance was useless, Berkeley threw the guns from their carriages and waited for Bacon's arrival.

So the motley band came streaming into town. "Now tag, rag and bobtail carry a high hand." Bacon drew up a double line before the State House and demanded that some members of the Council come out to confer with him. When Colonel Spencer and Colonel Cole appeared he told them he had come for a commission. Then he said that the people would not submit to taxes to pay for the proposed new army. And his men shouted: "No levies! No levies!"

At this juncture Berkeley rushed out, gesticulating wildly and denouncing Bacon to his face as a traitor.

Then he threw back his coat and shouted: "Here, shoot me, 'fore God, fair mark, shoot."

Bacon replied that he would not hurt a hair of his head. They had come for a commission to save their lives from the Indians, which had so often been promised.

The Burgesses hearing the noise below, crowded to the windows. But they drew back when the soldiers pointed their fusils at them, calling out: "We will have it. We will have it." One of the Burgesses called back: "For God's sake hold your hands; forbear a little and you shall have what you please."

After walking up and down before the State House for some time, muttering threats and "new coined oaths," Bacon mounted the steps to the Long Room, where the Burgesses sat, and demanded a commission to lead a force out against the Indians. One of them told him that governor alone had the right to grant a commission. But when he left they sent a message to Sir William advising him to issue the commission. The Council, too, pointing out that he and they were in Bacon's power, added their voices. At last, though with intense bitterness, he yielded.

But new humiliations awaited him. He was forced to write the King justifying Bacon's conduct, sign blank commissions for Bacon's officers, and imprison some of his most loyal friends. So long as it did not concern "life and limb" he was willing to do anything to be rid of him.

In his determination to secure a commission Bacon did not neglect the matter of reform. When Berkeley suggested that they decide their controversy by a duel with swords, he replied that "he came for redress of the people's grievances." In the Assembly he "pressed hard, nigh an hour's harangue on preserving our lives from the Indians, inspecting the revenues, the exorbitant taxes, and redressing the grievances and calamities of that deplorable country." After this impassioned plea he must have been greatly surprised when the Assembly told him "that they had already redressed their grievances." Since, had the so-called Bacon's Laws been passed while he was sitting in the Council he would have known it, they must have been rushed through during the brief period between his flight from Jamestown and his return.

It will be helpful to recall the situation in the little capital at the time. With hundreds of enraged frontiersmen "within a day's journey", with no force which could be trusted to oppose them, the governor and his friends were in a state of panic. Even before Bacon's escape Ludwell wrote: "We have all the reason in the world to suspect their designs are ruinous." And now, with Bacon back at their head to tell them of his humiliation and report that he still had no commission, Berkeley feared the worst. Then came the certain information that Bacon was marching on the town.

Obviously the Assembly and the governor rushed Bacon's Laws through in a desperate, last minute attempt to appease Bacon and his men. When the governor affixed his signature he must have been almost within hearing distance of the tramp of armed men. And it is significant that both the governor and the Assembly wished to have the laws read before Bacon's men "for their satisfaction." That Bacon, who was in no humor to be appeased, refused to permit this, is no indication that he did not heartily approve of the laws.

We do not know who drew up Bacon's Laws. It may have been Lawrence and Drummond, who introduced them through some ally in the House. It may have been Bacon's neighbor, Thomas Blayton, whom Colonel Edward Hill afterwards called "Bacon's great engine" in the Assembly. It may have been James Minge, clerk of the Assembly, "another [of] Bacon's great friends in forming the laws." More probably it was the committee on grievances. But whoever drew them up, whoever introduced them, most of the credit goes to Bacon. They were aimed at the abuses he repeatedly denounced, they were passed in an Assembly which Bacon had incited the people to demand and which Berkeley declared overwhelmingly pro-Bacon, and signed under the threat of Bacon's armed forces.

Although the governor and the King both voided Bacon's Laws and the Assembly of February 1677 repealed them, they constitute a landmark in the development of self-government in Virginia. They broadened the franchise by giving the right to vote to all freemen; they gave the voters representation in the county courts in assessing taxes; they put an end to self-perpetuating vestries; they fixed the fees of sheriffs, collectors, and other officials; they made it illegal for sheriffs to serve more than one year at a time; no person could hold two of the offices of sheriff, clerk of the court, surveyor, or escheator at the same time; members of the Council were barred from sitting on the county courts.

It was long recognized in both England and America that liberty is grounded on the principle that no man's money can be taken from him without his own consent. Yet local taxes in Virginia, which often exceeded those voted by the Assembly, were assessed by the county courts made up of the governor's appointees. The self-perpetuating vestries also had the right to tax, for they levied the parish charges. Thus Bacon's Laws struck at an exceedingly dangerous abuse. The use of fees to raise money without the consent of the voters was a source of bitter controversy between the governors and the people for many decades to come, a controversy which culminated in the celebrated case of the pistole fee which got Governor Dinwiddie into so much trouble. The restricting of local officers to one office at a time struck a blow at Berkeley's system of government by placemen. But the laws did not include an act to prohibit officeholders from sitting in the Assembly. This would have gone to the root of the trouble, but it was too much to expect the governor to assent to it even with Bacon and his infuriated men marching on Jamestown. In fact, this step was taken only more than half a century later.

Bacon now began preparations for the Indian campaign. Riding from one county to another he gathered armed bands, appointed their officers, and sent them off to the falls of the James. Arms, ammunition, and stores were sent up the rivers in sloops. The well-to-do planters were angered when their horses and corn were taken for the expedition, but at any show of resistance they were threatened and intimidated. One of Bacon's men told John Mann, "with many fearful oaths, as God damn his blood, sink him and rot him, he would ruin him."

It was late in July when Bacon drew up his army of seven hundred horse and six hundred foot. Riding out before them, he made a brief address. He assured them of his loyalty to the King, and that it was "the cries of his brethren's blood" that induced him to secure his commission. He then took the oath of allegiance, and required the men to swear fidelity to him as their general. Then they broke ranks for the night, expecting the next day to march.

At that moment word arrived that Berkeley was busy raising forces with which to attack them in the rear. This forced Bacon to change all his plans. After the rebels had left for the frontier, the Governor, realizing that the sentiment of the colony was overwhelmingly against him, at first had made no attempt to resist him. But Philip Ludwell and Robert Beverley drew up a petition in the name of the people of Gloucester, stating that Bacon had stripped them of arms and asking the governor to protect them. Although "not five persons knew about it," Berkeley accepted it as a call to action. "This petition is most willingly granted," he wrote. It was his duty to protect the King's loyal subjects. Bacon's commission was illegal, he added, since it had been extracted by force.

In a spirit of elation he rode over to Gloucester and sent out a call for the militia to assemble. But when they learned that they were expected to fight against Bacon, the popular hero, they demurred. "For Bacon at that time was so much the hope and darling of the people that the governor's interest proved but weak and his friends so very few that he grew sick of the essay." As he rode out before the troops he heard a murmur, "Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!" and saw them walk away. Bitterly disappointed and wearied by his exertions, he fainted away in the saddle.

Upon receiving the news that the governor was trying to raise forces to oppose him, Bacon "causes the drums to beat and trumpets to sound for calling his men together." Then he addressed them. It was revenge which hurried the governor and his advisors on without regard to the people's safety. They would rather see them murdered and their ghosts sent to join those of their slaughtered friends, than have them disturb their trade with the Indians. So now they must use their swords in their own defence. While they were sound at heart and not wearied they must descend to find out why these men sought to destroy their lives who sought to preserve theirs.

At this there was a shout of "Amen! Amen!" They were all ready and would rather die on the field of battle than be hanged like rogues or perish in the woods at the hands of the merciless savages. So with muttered oaths they turned their faces toward Gloucester.

Hearing that Bacon's enraged men were pouring down upon them, Berkeley and his friends were at a loss as to what to do. If they fell into his hands imprisonment was the mildest treatment they could expect. It was Robert Beverley who suggested that they flee to Accomac, where they would be safe beyond the waters of the Chesapeake Bay. Berkeley agreed, and asked Sir Henry Chicheley to accompany him. Chicheley promised to join him later, but before he could get away was captured. Berkeley, Beverley, and three others procured a small vessel, and reached the Eastern Shore in safety. And for the next few days the bay was dotted with sails as one gentleman after another fled with his wife and children, leaving his house, furniture, crops, horses, and cattle to be plundered by Bacon's men.

This was the situation when Bacon returned from the frontier. With Berkeley in exile, and with the Council dispersed, the colony had been left without a government. So Bacon had to become dictator, assume the role of a Cromwell. He might well have become hopelessly confused had he not had Lawrence and Drummond to advise him in every step in taking over the government. Probably it was they who helped him draw up a manifesto, in which he dwelt on Berkeley's tyranny and injustice. All men were witnesses of the corruption of the government, it stated; how men of lowly estate, elevated to important posts, had lined their pockets at the public expense. If he had attacked the so-called allied Indians, it was because they had committed "murder upon murder" upon the settlers. Had the governor himself not supplied them with arms and ammunition the frontier plantations would not now be deserted, the blood of their brothers spilled.

Bacon set up headquarters at Middle Plantation, the site of Williamsburg. Here he issued a proclamation declaring Berkeley, Chicheley, Ludwell, Beverley, and others, traitors, and threatened to confiscate their estates unless they surrendered within four days. Next he summoned all the leading planters to a conference. When seventy had assembled, most of them because they feared to stay away, some because they were dragged in by force, Bacon asked them to take three oaths; that they would join with him against the Indians; that they would arrest anyone trying to raise troops against him; and lastly, to oppose any English troops sent to Virginia until Bacon could plead his case before the King. Many of those present demurred at the last oath, but in the end no less than sixty-nine signed, among them such prominent men as Thomas Swan, John Page, Philip Lightfoot, and Thomas Ballard.

It was shortly after this that Bacon had a conversation with a certain John Goode, of Henrico, which is revealing of his fears, hopes, and plans for the future.

"There is a report that Sir William Berkeley hath sent to the King for 2000 redcoats, and I do believe it may be true," said Bacon. "Tell me your opinion, may not 500 Virginians beat them, we having the same advantages against them the Indians have against us?"

"I rather conceive 500 redcoats may either subject or ruin Virginia," Goode replied.

"You talk strangely. Are not we acquainted with the country, can lay ambushes, and take to trees and put them by the use of their discipline, and are doubtless as good or better shots than they."

"But they can accomplish what I have said without hazard ... by taking opportunities of landing where there shall be no opposition, firing our houses and fences, destroying our stock and preventing all trade...."

"There may be such prevention that they shall not be able to make any great progress in such mischiefs. And the country and clime not agreeing with their constitutions, great mortality will happen amongst them...."

"You see, sir, ... all the principal men in the country dislike your manner of proceedings. They, you may be sure, will join with the redcoats."

To this Bacon replied that he would see to it that they did not.

"Sir, you speak as though you designed a total defection from his Majesty and our country."

"Why, have not many princes lost their dominions so?" he asked, smiling.

"They have been people as have been able to subsist without their princes. The poverty of Virginia is such that the major part of the inhabitants can scarce supply their wants from hand to mouth, and many there are besides who can hardly shift without supply one year, and you may be sure that the people which so fondly follow you, when they come to feel the miserable wants of food and raiment, will be in greater haste to leave you than they were to come after you. Besides, here are many people in Virginia that receive considerable benefits ... in England, and many which expect patrimonies...."

"For supply I know nothing the country will not be able to provide for itself withal in a little time save ammunition and iron, and I believe the King of France or States of Holland would either of them entertain a trade with us."

"Sir, our King is a great prince, and his amity is infinitely more valuable to them than any advantage they could reap by Virginia.... Besides I conceive that your followers do not think themselves engaged against the King's authority, but against the Indians."

"But I think otherwise, and am confident of it that it is the mind of this country, and of Maryland, and Carolina also to cast off their governors ... and if we cannot prevail by arms to make our conditions for peace, or obtain the privilege to elect our own governor, we may retire to Roanoke."

"Sir, the prosecuting what you have discoursed will unavoidably produce utter ruin."

After a pause Bacon asked: "What should a gentleman engaged as I am do? You do as good as tell me I must fly or hang for it."

"I conceive a sensible submission to the Assembly...."

So Goode left him to think over the various steps which had led him on to his present desperate situation. But he did not take the advice to submit. That would mean deserting the people before their wrongs had been righted, it would mean going back to the old despotism with all its injustices and oppressions. He would rather take his chances of defeating the King's troops, confederating with other colonies, and securing the aid of one or more of England's enemy nations. Desperate though these plans seemed, it is possible that they might have succeeded, had not an untimely death overtaken him. Holland, with bitter recollections of two recent wars with England, might have welcomed a chance to break up the British Empire and regain her lucrative tobacco trade. In its essential points it was the same plan which brought independence to America a century later almost to a day.

While Bacon was dreaming of a complete break with England his father was pleading with the King to pardon him. His only son had been unhappily prevailed upon by the importunity of his distressed neighbors to lead them forth against the cruel and perfidious enemies, the Indians. In this way he had "become obnoxious to the letter of the law."

With his petition Thomas Bacon presented an appeal from his son's followers called "The Virginians' Plea." They were in danger day and night, especially those who lived dispersedly on the frontier, from the murderous Indians, and many had been forced to desert their plantations. So they offered their services to go out against them, "having still so much English blood in us ... as to risk our lives in opposing them ... rather than to be sneakingly murdered in our beds.... Oh Heavens! what a sad dilemma! We confess we have vented our discontents in complaints of other grievances also, too great to be wholly smothered." But they had taken up arms not to relieve themselves by the sword from them, since they thought it better to wait patiently until they could appeal to the King, the governor, the Assembly, and Parliament.

But the period of patient waiting was now at an end. Bacon and his men were in possession of all Virginia west of the Chesapeake Bay. The immediate question was how to defend it against the governor and perhaps an expedition from England. For this the control of the water was vital. The four great rivers gave easy access to the heart of the colony to an enemy fleet, but were serious obstacles to moving troops by land. Without war vessels it would be necessary for Bacon to divide his little army into numerous widely separated detachments in order to defend hundreds of miles of shore.

Lying in the James River were three merchantmen, the _Honour and Dorothy_, the _Rebecca_, commanded by Captain Larrimore, and another _Rebecca_, commanded by Captain Eveling. On August 1 Giles Bland and William Carver, the latter "an able mariner and soldier," rowed out to Larrimore's ship, and though fired on, captured her. They then drew her up at Jamestown and mounted several guns on her from the fort. In the meanwhile Bacon, thinking Berkeley might be aboard Eveling's vessel, demanded permission to search her. But Eveling refused, calling him a rebel and naming him "Oliver Bacon", and before Larrimore's vessel could attack him, weighed anchor, slipped down the river, and headed for England.

Though disappointed at Eveling's escape Bland and Carver, with the _Rebecca_, a small bark, and a sloop, carrying a force of two hundred and fifty men, stationed themselves at the mouth of the James, ready to seize and to press into service any incoming vessels. But they made the mistake of moving across the bay and anchoring off Accomac to treat with the governor. Carver, with 160 men, came ashore in a pinnace. Berkeley tried to persuade him to desert Bacon, but he replied that "if he served the devil he would be true to his trust."

Berkeley ordered him to be gone within eight hours, but contrary winds sprang up so that he had to delay. This Berkeley thought Carver was glad of, since it gave him an opportunity to wean his soldiers away from him. But it proved a godsend for Berkeley. At about midnight a message came to him from Captain Larrimore, explaining that he and his crew served under duress, that there were only forty soldiers left on board the _Rebecca_, and that if he could send thirty or forty gentlemen to the ship, he was sure they, with the help of the sailors, could retake her.

So Philip Ludwell with two boats went out under cover of darkness. As they approached the ship the soldiers on deck hesitated to fire on them, thinking they were coming at Carver's invitation. So they drew up alongside and clambered in through the gunroom ports. As they rushed up on deck they were joined by the sailors with handspikes, and together they soon forced the soldiers to surrender. In the meanwhile Carver too was approaching, and hearing the shouts, tried to veer away. But Larrimore trained his guns on him and captured him and all his men. Coming on board he "stormed, tore his hair off and cursed," as well he might for he knew that he would soon be on the way to the gallows. This was a major victory, for it gave the governor control of the water. From now on he was safe from any attempt to invade the Eastern Shore. On the other hand, he could at will strike at any point up the great Virginia rivers.

While these events were taking place Bacon was leading an army through the woods and swamps of upper Gloucester and Middlesex. He had good reason to believe that it was the Pamunkeys who had made some recent incursions, and he was determined to ferret them out. But it proved a difficult task. His men, tired of wandering here and there, soaked by drenching rains, and half-starved, began to waver. But their dauntless young leader, after permitting many to return, resumed the search with the rest.

They had gone but a few miles when they came upon an Indian village, protected on three sides by swamps, and on the other by thickets and bushes. As the English charged the terrified Indians fled. Many were shot down, many others captured. The queen of the Pamunkeys escaped, and wandered through the woods for days, half starved. Bacon led his men back in triumph, bringing forty-five prisoners, and stores of wampum, skins, furs, and English goods.

But having broken the power of the Pamunkeys, Bacon had now to meet forces raised by the governor. Soon after the capture of the _Rebecca_ Captain Gardiner joined the little fleet with the _Adam and Eve_. So Berkeley, embarking 200 men on the ships and on six or seven sloops, crossed over to the Western Shore where another hundred joined them. Then they sailed up the James to Jamestown. Bacon's garrison, perhaps fearing the guns on the ships and thinking themselves outnumbered, fled in the night without firing a shot.

Bacon received this news calmly, though Berkeley declared that "he swore one thousand of his usual execrable oaths." At the time he had but one hundred and thirty-six tired and hungry men with him. But he was determined to lead them to the attack. "Gentlemen and fellow soldiers, how am I transported with gladness to find you thus unanimous, bold and daring, brave and gallant!" he said. "You have the victory before you fight, the conquest before the battle.... I know you have the prayers and well-wishes of all the people of Virginia, while the others are loaded with their curses."

Of this they had abundant evidence, for as they trudged along the people brought out "fruits and victuals," shouted encouragement, and denounced the governor. There was a brief stop in New Kent while recruits came in, before they set off for James City County. There the youthful leader delivered another address to his men: "If ever you have fought well and bravely, you must do so now.... They call us rebels and traitors, but we will see whether their courage is as great as their pretended loyalty. Come on, my hearts of gold, he who dies in the field of battle dies in the bed of honor."

When Bacon arrived before Jamestown the place seemed impregnable. The narrow isthmus which was the only approach to the town was defended by three heavy guns, the ships in the river were ready to give support, the Back Creek and a series of marshes protected the north shore. But Bacon was not discouraged. All night long his men labored to throw up a makeshift fortress of "trees, bush and earth" facing the isthmus, as a protection should Berkeley's force sally out. When the governor saw what was going on he ordered the ships and shallops to move up to fire on the crude structure, while his soldiers let loose with repeated volleys. Thereupon Bacon sent out parties of horse through the adjacent plantations to bring in the wives of some of the governor's supporters, Elizabeth Page, Angelica Bray, Anna Ballard, Frances Thorpe and even Elizabeth Bacon, wife of his cousin, Nathaniel Bacon, Senior. The terrified ladies were placed upon the ramparts, where they would be in great peril should the firing be resumed, and kept there until Bacon had completed the work and mounted his guns.

It was on September 15, that Berkeley's troops sallied out, formed in front of Bacon's fort, and rushed forward, horse and foot "pressing very close upon one another's shoulders." They made an excellent target, so that when the rebels opened on them, those in front threw down their arms and fled. Had Bacon pressed close on their heels he might have taken the place, and with it Berkeley, and all his men. But he held back and the opportunity was lost.

The governor was furious, and reviled his officers in "passionate terms." But it should have been obvious to him that he could not trust men who fought under compulsion, many of them in sympathy with Bacon. "The common soldiers mutinied, and the officers did not do their whole duty to suppress them," he wrote afterwards. The officers urged on him the necessity of abandoning the town. "One night having rode from guard to guard and from quarter to quarter all day long to encourage the men, I went to bed," Berkeley said. "I was no sooner lain down but there came three or four of the chief officers and told me I must presently rise and go to the ships for the soldiers were all mutinying ... and that 200 or 300 men were landed at the back of us." But when he put on his clothes, mounted his horse, and rode to the spot they had indicated, he found the report false.

The next day the officers again urged the evacuation of the place. But the governor demurred, "desiring them with all passionate earnestness to keep the town ... I told them I could neither answer this to the King nor to any man that ever was a soldier, unless they gave under their hands the necessity of my dishonorable quitting the place." This they immediately did and then hurried him away to the fleet. That night guns were spiked, arms and stores were taken on board the vessels, and the soldiers were embarked. Then silently the little fleet slipped down the river.

The next morning Bacon's men occupied the town. But now he was uncertain as to what he should do with it. News had come that Giles Brent, a former supporter of Bacon who had gone over to the governor, had raised an army in the northern counties and was marching south to attack him. Brent, who was half Indian, was a sacrilegious man who was said to have drunk the devil's health, at the same time firing his pistol "to give the devil a gun." His advance put Bacon in a quandary. If he remained in Jamestown, he would be trapped between Brent on land and Berkeley's fleet by water. If he deserted the town, Berkeley would return and occupy it. In the end, he, Lawrence, Drummond, and the others decided to burn the town.

A few minutes later the village was a mass of flames. Lawrence applied the torch to his own house, Drummond to his, and Bacon to the church. They "burnt five houses of mine," reported Berkeley, "and twenty of other gentlemen." It was a desperate deed of determined men, a deed which foreshadowed the burning of Norfolk by patriots in the American Revolution a century later to prevent the British from using it as a base of operations.

Turning his back on the ruins of Jamestown, Bacon led his men first to Green Spring, then to the site of Yorktown, and crossing the York River made his headquarters at the residence of Colonel Augustine Warner, in Gloucester. But when word came that Brent's forces were approaching, he wheeled his veterans into line, the "drums thundered out the march," and away they went to meet him. But there was no battle. Brent's men, many of them probably indentured workers who had been forced into service, had no wish to risk their lives for the governor. So, when they heard that Bacon's force was on the march, they refused to fight, deserted their officers, and returned home.

Now that once more Bacon was in possession of all Virginia except the Eastern Shore, his chief concern was the redcoats, whose arrival was reported to be close at hand. Would the people support him in opposing them? So he summoned the Gloucester trained bands and asked them to take an oath to stand by him, fight the English troops, and if they found that they could not defend themselves, their lives, and liberties, to desert the colony.

At this the Gloucester men balked. To fight the King's troops was to defy the might of England. So they asked to be permitted to remain neutral. Deeply disappointed, Bacon reproved them as the worst of sinners who were willing to be saved by others but would not do their part. Then he dismissed them. When he was told that the Reverend James Wadding had tried to dissuade the people from subscribing, he had him arrested. "It is your place to preach in church, not in camps," he said.

Persuasion having failed, Bacon took sterner measures. Setting up a court-martial, he put some of his opponents on trial. But though Berkeley scorned his proposal that they be exchanged for Carver and Bland, none was executed save one deserter. But the trials served their purpose, for when he summoned the militia again they all subscribed to his oath.

Bacon now turned his attention to the Eastern Shore. He realized that so long as Berkeley had there a base of operations, from which he could launch sudden attacks, his position was insecure. So he sent Captain George Farloe, "one of Cromwell's men," with forty soldiers across the bay to surprise and capture Berkeley. But it was not easy to cross so large a body of water in small boats, and Farloe was taken and hanged. Equally futile was a manifesto to the people of the Eastern Shore urging them to rise against the governor.

Bacon gave orders that the estates of the governor and his friends be ransacked for the use of his army, and Green Spring, King's Creek, Warner Hall, and other places, were denuded of their cattle, sheep, hogs, Indian corn, and even blankets and clothing. But when the rough soldiers began to plunder friend and foe alike Bacon called a halt. And instead of hanging every enemy who fell into his hands in retaliation for Berkeley's executions, he released some without bringing them to trial and pardoned others who had been condemned.

To see that his orders were carried out he now planned, probably on the advice of Lawrence and Drummond, to appoint three committees, one "for settling the south side of James River," another to accompany the army "to inquire into the cause of all seizures," and the third to manage the Indian war. To prevent raids by the enemy from the Eastern Shore Bacon ordered the banks of the great rivers "to be guarded all along, to observe their motion, and as they moved to follow them and prevent them from landing or having any provisions sent on board them."

But for the daring young commander the end was at hand. "Before he could arrive at the perfection of his plans providence did that which no other hand durst do." While at his headquarters in the house of Major Thomas Pate, in Gloucester, a few miles east of West Point, he became ill of dysentery. Bacon's enemies accused him of being an atheist, but in his last hours he called in Mr. Wadding to prepare his mind for death. "He died much dissatisfied in mind," we are told, "inquiring ever and anon after the arrival of the frigates and soldiers from England, and asking if the guards were strong about the house." He died October 26, 1676.

Bacon's enemies made much of the fact that he was so infected with lice that his shirts had to be burned, and because of it spoke of his death as infamous. But the lice probably had nothing to do with it, since typhus seems to have been almost unknown in early America. On the other hand, dysentery was fairly common. Bacon's body has never been found. Thomas Mathews tells us that Berkeley wished to hang it on a gibbet, but on exhuming his casket he found in it nothing but stones. It was supposed that the faithful Lawrence, probably in the dark of night, had buried the body in some secret place.

Berkeley gloated over his arch enemy's death. "His usual oath which he swore at least a thousand times a day was 'God damn my blood,'" he wrote, "and God so infected his blood that it bred lice in an incredible number, so that for twenty days he never washed his shirts but burned them. To this God added the bloody flux, and an honest minister wrote this epitaph on him:

'Bacon is dead, I am sorry at my heart
That lice and flux should take the hangman's part'."

But while his enemies scoffed, Bacon's followers mourned. One of them expressed their sorrow and despair in excellent verse:

"Death why so cruel! What, no other way
To manifest thy spleene, but thus to slay
Our hopes of safety, liberty, our all
Which, through thy tyranny, with him must fall
To its late chaos? Had thy rigid force
Been dealt by retail, and not thus in gross,
Grief had been silent: Now we must complain
Since thou, in him, hast more than thousand slain...."

What, we may ask, should be Bacon's place in history? Is he to be looked upon only as a rash young man, whose ambition and insistence on having his own way brought disaster to the colony and death to many brave men? Or should he be regarded as a martyr to the cause of liberty? That Bacon was precipitate, that his judgement was faulty at times there can be no doubt. But that he fought to put an end to Berkeley's "French despotism", to restore true representative government in the colony, to break the power of the group of parasites who surrounded the governor, to end unjust and excessive taxes, to make local government more democratic, is obvious. He said so repeatedly. When Bacon and his men said they had enough English blood in their veins not to be murdered in their beds by the Indians, they might have added that they had enough English blood not to remain passive while a despotic old governor robbed them of their liberty. When Bacon's enemies tried to cast opprobrium upon him by calling him the Oliver Cromwell of Virginia, they did not realize that future generations would consider this an unintentional tribute. Certainly he must have been a man of great magnetism, power of persuasion, and sincerity, a man who had a cause to plead, who could arouse the devotion of so many thousands. But it was true, as one sorrowing follower wrote, that

"none shall dare his obsequies to sing
In deserv'd measures, until time shall bring
Truth crown'd with freedom, and from danger free,
To sound his praises to posterity."

Bacon's death left the rebels without a leader. Berkeley stated that they would have made Bland their general had he not been his prisoner. What was needed was a man with experience in both military and governmental affairs. Had either Lawrence or Drummond been soldiers one or the other might have been chosen, but apparently neither had ever borne arms. So the army elected Joseph Ingram, who had been second in command under Bacon. Colonel Nicholas Spencer called him "a debauched young man, who this year came to Virginia, and said to be a saddler in England."

Ingram never had the full confidence of his men. He seems to have had some ability as a general, but he was unequal to the task of maintaining order and uniting the distracted colony. Berkeley said that he continued the other officers, but that they "soon disagreed amongst themselves, mistrusting each other."

His task was difficult. If he divided his forces to protect every exposed place along the river banks they might be overwhelmed one by one. It might have been wise for him to carry out Bacon's plan for a flying body of cavalry centered at West Point, within striking distance of the south bank of the Rappahannock, both banks of the York, and the north bank of the James. This would not have prevented night raids by Berkeley's men, but it would have protected the heart of the colony from serious invasion. But Ingram was faced with the problem of feeding his men. The rivers had always been the chief means of communication, but now barges or sloops bringing grain or meat might be intercepted by the _Adam and Eve_, or the _Rebecca_, or the newly arrived warship, the _Concord_. And there was a limit to what could be had by plundering the neighboring plantations.

So Ingram adopted the plan of keeping his main force at the head of the York, and establishing small garrisons at selected points. On the south side of the James he posted a "considerable number" of resolute men in the residence of Major Arthur Allen, known today as Bacon's Castle. At the governor's residence at Green Spring he left about one hundred men under Captain Drew, who guarded the north bank of the James and made away with what was left of Berkeley's cattle, sheep, and grain.

On the south side of the York Major Thomas Whaley, "a stout ignorant fellow", was in command at King's Creek, the estate of Councillor Bacon, while lower down Captain Thomas Hansford, a man of the highest character, was stationed at the site of Yorktown. Across the river another group fortified Mr. William Howard's house, while in Westmoreland still another made their headquarters at the residence of Colonel John Washington.

Hansford, Whaley, Gregory Wakelett, and other officers were men of ability, who could be trusted to remain firm in the cause for which they took up arms. But after Bacon's death the rank and file were filled up partly with slaves and indentured workers, who had little interest in either the Indian war or in curbing the governor's despotism. The garrison at Colonel West's house, near West Point, consisted of about 400 men, of whom eighty were Negroes, and many others were servants. What they wanted was their freedom. But among them there must have been some of Bacon's veterans, for they continued to fight well.

But now the policy of dividing the army into isolated garrisons began to bear bitter fruit. In November, Major Robert Beverley crossed the bay with a strong force in a fleet of transports, entered the York river, and surprised the men at the site of Yorktown. Hansford was captured. A few days later Beverley returned to the York and after a brief encounter captured Major Edmund Cheeseman and Captain Thomas Wilford.

Berkeley now began a series of executions marked by a brutality unsurpassed in American history. One may excuse the tortures inflicted by the Indians because they were savages. There can be no excuse for an Englishman of culture and gentle birth. Extremely avaricious, he had seen the accumulation of a lifetime taken from him; proud of his ability as a ruler, he had seen his government overthrown and had been forced to take refuge in an inaccessible corner of the colony; revering, almost idolizing, the King, he must now explain to him his failures. So his vindictiveness against the men he held responsible knew no bounds.

His first victim was Hansford. When he was condemned by Berkeley's council of war, he pleaded that he might be shot like a soldier not hanged like a dog. "But you are not condemned as a soldier, but as a rebel taken in arms," he was told. As he stood on the scaffold he spoke to the crowd, protesting "that he died a loyal subject and a lover of his country."

When Major Cheeseman was brought in, Berkeley sternly asked him why he had joined the rebels. But as he was about to reply his wife rushed in and told the governor that it was she who had urged him to take up arms, and pleaded that she might be hanged in his place. Though the governor knew that what she said "was near the truth," he spurned her with a vile insult. Yet he was cheated of his revenge, for Cheeseman died in prison, and so escaped the ignominy of the gallows.

When Farloe was brought to trial he pointed out that he held a commission to serve under Bacon signed by Berkeley himself. But this did not save him. The court told him he had been authorized only to fight the Indians, not to take up arms against the governor. "Be silent, while sentence is pronounced on you." The executions of Hansford, Carver, Farloe, Wilford, and John Johnson, "a stirrer up of the people but no fighter," brought to an end the hangings on the Eastern Shore.

Word now reached Berkeley that Major Lawrence Smith had raised the loyal standard in Gloucester, and had assembled a force so large that they could have "beaten all the rebels in the country only with their axes and hoes." In nearby Middlesex another large force was ready to cooperate with him. This seemed the opportunity to crush the rebellion. So the governor embarked 100 men on four ships and several sloops and entered the York river to close in on Ingram from the south while the others attacked from the north and east. But the plan failed miserably.

Ingram met the Middlesex threat by sending Gregory Wakelett out with a body of horse. But when he arrived he found that the enemy had dispersed. Nor were Smith's loyalists more resolute. As they faced Ingram's force a certain Major Bristow stepped out of the ranks and offered to try the justice of the governor's cause after the manner of the Middle Ages by single combat. Ingram himself would have accepted the challenge, but his men caught him by the arm and pulled him back. As it turned out there was no battle, for the rank and file of the so-called loyal forces tamely laid down their arms and went home.

A raid on the right bank of the York also ended in failure. Berkeley decided to send Captain Hubert Farrill with a strong force to surprise the garrison at King's Creek. It was planned to drive in the sentries and to "enter pell mell with them into the house." But they were met by such a deadly fire that they fell back under the shelter of the outbuildings, and then fled to their boats. Farrill was left dead, his commission "dropping wet with blood in his pocket."

But the colony was now in a deplorable condition. Many plantations had been deserted, others had been plundered by the rebels, Ingram had not been able to keep order, there was no money to meet governmental expenses, the desertion of servants and slaves to the rebels, and the absence from the fields of so many small farmers had caused a shortage of the tobacco and corn crops, many houses had been burned, the courts in some of the counties were closed. The rebel officers could not restrain their rough soldiers from wanton destruction--throwing down fences, destroying crops, burning barns. Soon the longing for peace and order became general. Time was working for the governor.

However, it was known that Colonel Herbert Jeffreys with 1000 men had been ordered to go to Virginia to suppress the rebellion, and their arrival was expected at any moment.

In the meanwhile the tobacco ships began to come in with needed supplies of clothing, cloth, medicines, etc. The planters still had some hogsheads of tobacco on hand, and were anxious to resume trade with the merchants, but when Berkeley issued a proclamation threatening to denounce as a rebel anyone who traded with the Western Shore the shippers held back. So the planters realized that the weapon of economic pressure, of which Goode had warned Bacon, was to be applied against them.

And they must have been discouraged when, in November, the ship _Concord_ of 500 tons, armed with 30 guns and commanded by Thomas Grantham, entered through the capes and anchored in the York river. Lawrence wrote Grantham a letter telling him that the people had been grievously oppressed and begging him and the merchants to remain neutral. Otherwise they were determined to burn their tobacco. Grantham replied that he would not treat with men who had taken up arms against the royal authority.

But he did offer his services to effect a reconciliation. Sending a boat for Berkeley, he received him on board the _Concord_, where he tried to persuade him "to meekness," pointing out that an unrelenting temper would only drive the rebels to a desperate resistance. Meekness was something far from Berkeley's heart, but he was desperately anxious to end the rebellion before the redcoats arrived. Then he could tell the King that he, unassisted, had restored order. To accomplish this he was even willing to forego the satisfaction of hanging some of the leaders of the rebellion, provided Lawrence and Drummond were not among them.

So he sent Grantham up the river to the Pate house, where he found Ingram with about 800 men. After prolonged negotiations Ingram yielded and surrendered West Point together with 300 men, four great guns, and many small arms.

Grantham then went to Colonel John West's house, where he found a garrison of about 400 English and Negroes. They accused him of betraying them, and some were for shooting him, others for cutting him in pieces. But after he had put them in better humor with a barrel of brandy they "surrendered the post, with three cannon, 500 muskets and fowling pieces, and 1000 pounds of bullets."

Grantham now delivered Ingram, Colonel Langston, and other rebel officers to Berkeley, who at once pardoned them. He next went to Ingram's house, marched the garrison there down to Tindall's Point, took their arms, drums, and colors, and gave them the oath of allegiance. After the men had toasted the King and the governor, they gave three shouts and dispersed. We may judge the extent of Berkeley's elation at the collapse of the rebellion by the fact that he invited Ingram and Langston to dine with him on shipboard.

But Gregory Wakelett, one of the most active of the rebel leaders, was still at large with a force of cavalry. So anxious was Berkeley to secure his submission that he promised him, not only his pardon, but part of the wampum his men had taken from the Indians. So he too "declared for the King." When other posts on the James and the York were surrendered or abandoned, Lawrence, Drummond, and Whaley, with a force of several hundred men, were all that were left of the rebel army. They well knew that for them there would be no mercy. But as they retreated into New Kent their men began to fall off until they were entirely deserted.

Lawrence and Whaley with three others determined to risk torture at the hands of the Indians rather than fall into the hands of the governor. They were last seen on the extreme frontier, pushing on through the snow into the forest. We shall probably never know their fate. They may have died of hunger and exposure, they may have been killed by the Indians; it is barely possible that they found refuge in one of the northern colonies.

But though the fate of Lawrence and Whaley is shrouded in mystery, that of many others is known. The enraged governor drew up a long list of those he had marked for the gallows. When the reports of Berkeley's savagery reached Charles II, he is said to have remarked "That old fool has hanged more men in that naked country than I have for the murder of my father."

Drummond was found hiding in Chickahominy Swamp and brought before the governor at King's Creek. The vindictive old man made a low bow, saying, "Mr. Drummond, you are very welcome. I am more glad to see you than any man in Virginia. Mr. Drummond, you shall be hanged in half an hour." However, he decided to give him at least the pretence of a trial. But his ring was snatched from his finger, his clothes taken from his back, and he was kept overnight in irons. The next morning he was forced to walk, still in irons, in bitterly cold weather, all the way to Middle Plantation. There, after a brief hearing, in which he was not allowed to defend himself, he was hurried away to the scaffold. His widow and five children were driven out of their house and forced to flee into the woods and swamps, where they came near starvation.