 | CHAPTER XXVI History of Virginia |  |
CHAPTER XXVI
THE REBELLION OF 1676—Continued
After Bacon's arrival at the Falls, news of the success of
his excursion against the Occaneechees spread all over the
Colony. All freemen, whether householders or not, were
permitted to cast their ballots in the election for the new
Assembly; the demand for reform was now general; and many
candidates who approved of Bacon's course were elected,—
among them, several whose indentures as servants had only
recently expired. Bacon himself was chosen a member, and
fearing arrest at Berkeley's order, should he enter Jamestown
unprotected, he went thither with a strong and faithful
body-guard. He and his escort made the journey in a sloop.
When Swann's Point was reached, he sent a messenger ahead
to obtain a pledge of safety on his arrival in town. The reply
was a shot directed straight at the sloop from the fort, and
Bacon was compelled to raise anchor hastily and retire out of
range of the balls. When night came on, he entered a boat and
was rowed to town to hold a consultation with Lawrence and
Drummond, two of his most trusted supporters. As he was
leaving the wharf on his return, his presence was discovered,
and he was pursued by Berkeley's spies all the way back to
the ship. The following morning, Captain Gardner, under
instructions from the enraged governor, moved up in a large
vessel to where the sloop was riding, and compelled Bacon and
his companions to surrender.
When Berkeley received Bacon in the council chamber, he
raised his hands and eyes to Heaven. "Behold," he exclaimed,
"the greatest rebel that ever was in Virginia." Bacon made
no reply. He stood in silent dejection. After a short pause,
your word? If so, you are at liberty on your own parole."
According to the report at the time, Bacon confessed his error,
implored pardon for it, and on bended knee, offered a paper
to the governor in which he had promised full submission in
the future. He then withdrew. Within a short time, he was
called back into the council chamber and informed that he
could again occupy his old seat at the board.
The tables were now turned on Captain Gardner. Although
he had been only acting on the governor's positive orders, he
was mulcted seventy pounds sterling for seizing the sloop,—
possibly because, being deserted after the capture, it had gone
on shore in a storm and been completely wrecked. As he was
unable to pay so large a fine, he was thrown into the common
jail at Jamestown,—a very poor reward for his promptness
and fidelity.
It was now falsely reported in all parts of the Colony that
Bacon had obtained the commission so long desired, and when
they heard this the discontent of the people subsided. Had
he been less impulsive, he would have remained quietly at
Jamestown until this document had been received; but it was
whispered into his ear by some malign friend that a conspiracy
had been hatched to murder him; and that the night for the
committal of this foul act had been actual chosen. These statements
very probably had their origin with persons who thought
that it was to the country's interest that the breach between
Bacon and Berkeley should be reopened. In the opinion of
these persons, it was only by violence that the reforms so
urgently needed could be secured. No improvement, they
believed, was to be expected, should the two be reconciled,
simply because, in that case, Berkeley would revert to his
former habit of neglect.
When, on his arrival at his home, Bacon informed his neighbors
that no commission had been delivered to him, they broke
into wild oaths and curses. "We will have a commission for
Bacon," they cried fiercely, "or we will pull down the town or
decided to go to it in person, accompanied by the mob of supporters
of the lower class who were now swarming around
him. His leadership had, by this time, discarded all semblance
of respect for peaceful methods. So soon as he halted in
Jamestown, he posted his sentinels at every corner and threw
out a screen of scouts. He then marshaled an imposing file
of soldiers opposite the door of the State-house, and sent a
messenger to the General Assembly to announce that he had
come to procure a commission to fight the Indians, who were
still committing outrages on the border. Berkeley stalked out
of the building and confronted Bacon,—who was standing in
front of his troops,—stormed at him as a rebel and traitor, and
positively declined to give the commission demanded. Impatiently
uncovering his breast, the old man cried out, " 'Fore
God, shoot, Sir;" but as no gun was lifted, he drew his sword
and offered to settle the differences between them by the
arbitrament of a duel.
Bacon at first behaved with more dignity and self-restraint
than the angry governor. He kept his temper throughout this
melodramatic action. "Sir," he answered quietly, "I come
not nor intend to hurt a hair of your Honor's head, and for
your sword, your Honor may please to put it up. It shall rust
in the scabbard before I shall desire to draw it. I come for a
commission against the heathen, who daily inhumanly murder
us and spill our brethren's blood, and no steps taken
to prevent it." Then his mood, inflamed to a passion by his
own words recalling these outrages, found voice in more violent
language. "God damn my blood," he exclaimed, "I came
for a commission, and a commission I will have before I go."
He turned abruptly to his soldiers. "Make ready," he called
out, "prime your guns." And this was instantly done.
During the interview between Bacon and Berkeley, the
burgesses had been looking on in a crowd from the windows.
When they saw the muzzles of the guns pointed straight at
them, some fled, while others shouted at the top of their voices,
you shall have whatever you please." Hastening down to
Berkeley, they implored him to grant the commission. Reluctantly,
he yielded. The commission was hurriedly drafted, and
taken to Bacon, who, after reading it with care, rejected the
document as inadequate. "Draw up one yourself," the burgesses
exclaimed, "and the governor will sign it." Bacon then
drafted a commission authorizing him to carry out all the
purposes which he had in view; and this he sent to the clerk
of the House to be copied. The document was soon put in
shape, and the governor, no doubt, with keen chagrin, attached
his signature to it. But Bacon was not yet satisfied. He
insisted that at least thirty other commissions should be
granted to his subordinates. Berkeley seems to have consented
to sign these also, but when still additional ones were
demanded, he replied in a surly spirit, "If you wish for more,
sign the rest yourself."
Whether members of the General Assembly were influenced
by apprehension for their own skins, or by public spirit, they
ordered a levy of one thousand men, who were to accompany
Bacon in his projected excursions against the Indians; and
they adopted the necessary measures to provide him with all
the ammunition and food which he would need. They did not
stop with these acts. They formally relieved him and his lieutenants
of all charge of disloyalty, and united with the governor
in a letter to the Privy Council applauding his conduct and
affirming its legality. Several members of the Council in Virginia,—among
them Thomas Ballard,—came forward to assist
him, and even took the oath of fidelity to his person, which he
required of all his followers. Liberal laws were soon passed
by the General Assembly at one of the most memorable sessions
in colonial history. The councillors,—who had been
exempt hitherto,—were, in the future, to be taxed like the rest
of the citizens; the property test for all voters was to be abolished;
the people were to elect their own representatives to
to be reduced.
But to return to the personal career of Bacon. The masses
of people, informed of the commissions obtained by him, had
no reason to question their validity. In joining the ranks
under his military command, they were convinced that they
were fulfilling their duty to themselves, their families, and the
government at Jamestown. Bacon, having received all the
supplies which the Assembly had promised, sent a message
throughout the Colony that the rendezvous for volunteers was
to be at the Falls in the James; and to the little army that soon
gathered there, in response to this call, he delivered an eloquent
speech, in which he emphasized his loyalty to the King, and
swore that his only design was to protect his countrymen. The
oath of allegiance and supremacy was submitted to every
soldier present, and afterwards the oath of obedience to
himself.
While thus patriotically and unselfishly employed, palpably
with no other purpose but to rid the harried frontiers of the
murderous Indian tomahawk, and when that had been accomplished,
to reform the legal and political administration of the
Colony, the news reached him that Berkeley was going up and
down Gloucester County feverishly engaged in levying troops
to be used for his overthrow. The anarchy and bloodshed
which followed are solely attributable to the revengeful spirit
of this one man; and from that moment until his ignominious
departure from Virginia, he becomes a malignant creature,—
a creature, who, rejecting all the suggestions of a discreet and
conciliatory spirit, allowed himself to be swayed by a preposterous
conception of his rights as governor, and by a passion
of resentment that was like the irresponsible emotions of
insanity.
Bacon ordered the drums to be beaten and the trumpets to
be blown to summon his soldiers to his presence, and as they
massed themselves in front of him, he burst out in an indignant
speech, "It is revenge," he exclaimed, "which hurries
the people's safety, and would rather prefer that we should
be murdered, and our ghosts sent to our slaughtered countrymen
by their acts, than that we should live to hinder them their
interest with the heathen and preserve the remaining parts of
our fellow-subjects from the heathen's cruelties. They have
forced us to turn our swords to our own defense. If we do not
do so, then we shall be either exposed to their mercies (Berkeley
and his supporters) or compelled to find refuge in the
unexplored woods at the very moment the country is soaked
in blood and wasting like a candle at both ends. Why should
these men seek to destroy us who have been raised up to defend
them and to preserve them from the furious onslaughts of the
heathen? If ever such treachery was heard of, such inhumanity,
we call all the former ages to witness."
Then, as in all Bacon's popular harangues, his own burning
words seemed to whip his indignation into a still sterner mood.
"But," he cried out, "they are all damned cowards, and you
will see that they dare not meet us in the field to try the justice
of our cause, and so we will march down to them." A shout
of "amen, amen" greeted these last vehement words. "We
are all ready," the soldiers exclaimed, "and would rather die
in the field than be hanged like rogues or perish in the woods
exposed to the tomahawks of the merciless Indians."
Berkeley too had been trying to enroll troops to lead against
the savages,—absolute proof to the minds of Bacon's followers
of the perfect propriety of their leader's projected expedition,—but
in vain. The people were quick to volunteer under
Bacon, but not under his antagonist, in whose sincerity of purpose
in such a campaign no public confidence was felt. So
disheartened, indeed, was Berkeley by the deaf ear turned to
his call for recruits that he, on one occasion, fainted in the
saddle. He must have met hostile words and menacing looks
in his canvass, for although his bravery was beyond dispute,
he left the mainland and took refuge on the Eastern Shore,
which remained loyal to his person.
Why had not the people of that region become disaffected
also? Certainly the Navigation Acts, the royal grant to favorites,
the oppressive taxation, and the other damaging measures,
had touched their interests as injuriously as those measures
had touched the interests of the people of the Western
Shore; and yet they seem to have felt no grudge against Berkeley,
and no resentment against the Long Assembly. And why?
Simply because, unlike the inhabitants of the country along
the upper waters of the James, York, Rappahannock, and
Potomac, they had never been awakened in the night by the
blood-curdling war-cry of the Indians, or wept over the mutilated
bodies of their slain kinsmen. Their perfect quietude in
the storm that had already broken out when Berkeley appeared
in their midst, is the best of proofs that, without the provocation
of the murders and burnings by the savages, the people
of the Colony at large would have patiently endured all the
other causes of dissatisfaction. In other words, the immediate
origin of the rebellion was Berkeley's obstinate refusal to
adopt or approve a vigorous policy for the punishment of the
Indian marauders.
Jamestown, abandoned by the governor, was soon occupied
by Bacon at the head of his soldiers; but he did not dally there
many days. First, he marched into Gloucester, where he was
received with acclamations, and afterwards turned about to
Middle Plantation, the site of the future Williamsburg. In a
proclamation which he issued there, he invited the gentlemen
of Virginia, who had, in a spirit of cold discretion, been standing
aloof, to co-operate with him in restoring order, suppressing
the Indians, and reforming abuses. It was clearly perceived
by the members of this intelligent class, apart from their
social distaste for Bacon's personal following, that the violent
methods used by him could not in the end prevail against the
English Government, which was certain ultimately to come
to Berkeley's assistance. A rebel's success could only be
temporary.
About sixty-nine citizens of wealth and prominence,
perfectly sincere and patriotic overture for support. It was
hoped by these men that the discussion at the meeting would
lead up to a reconciliation with Berkeley, and the pacification
of the excited people; but they must have received a shock when
they found the key of the door turned on them as soon as they
assembled, and a paper presented for their signatures which
would place them in open hostility to the fugitive governor,
should they sign it. The main points of this document were
as follows: Berkeley and the members of his council had
infringed the laws of England in their actions. Bacon had
conformed to those laws. The commission obtained by the
latter was a valid one. Every word heard in disparagement
of his conduct in the present crisis was to be reported to him
for punishment. No part of his secret plans disclosed to
anyone by him was to be divulged.
The minuteness of some of these injunctions, and the more
or less inquisitorial character of them all, would indicate that
Bacon was uncertain of his position, and was seeking to
strengthen it. He was not satisfied to secure a pledge of fidelity
from the persons in the assemblage, many of whom were
extremely reluctant to give it,—but he sent a copy of the oath
to every magistrate in reach, with orders to require the people
in a body to take it. This seems to have been done almost
universally,—by most of them because they were in sympathy
with his purposes; by others, because they were afraid to run
athwart his commands.
Bacon now signed all his proclamations with the words,
"General by Consent of the People" attached to his signature.
Having obtained at Middle Plantation the co-operation of four
members of the council, he persuaded them without difficulty
to join him,—also a councillor,—in issuing a summons for a
new General Assembly, which should convene on the fourth of
September at Jamestown. There was after this but one event
called for to crown his success,—the apprehension of Berkeley.
Bacon now acted with characteristic promptness and audacity,—he
of two hundred sailors, and numerous cannon, and was
commanded by Captain Larramore. He hoped by means of
the man-of-war to overawe the people of the Eastern Shore
to the point of surrendering the governor, but it is quite probable
that the latter, rather than give himself up, would have
taken refuge in Maryland. Unfortunately for Bacon's cause,
the two persons put in charge of the ship, Carver and Bland,
were lacking in discretion and foresight. Their first and
gravest mistake was to retain on board the sailors who had
been serving under Larramore, and even Larramore himself,
although the hostility to themselves of captain and crew was
known to all.
| CHAPTER XXVI History of Virginia | |