The Cavaliers of Virginia. Volume 2 of 2

The contumaceous conduct of the Governor toward the respectful remonstrances and petitions of the citizens, and more especially his unwarranted and disrespectful treatment of himself, recurred to his mind in good time. He mounted the rude platform hastily erected in front of the state house, burning with indignation, and glowing with patriotism.2 "He thanked the people for the unexpected and unmerited honour they had just conferred upon him. He accepted the office tendered to him with alacrity, and none the less so that yonder stubborn old man will not endorse it with his authority, and sanction our proceeding under the ordinary forms of law. What has produced this simultaneous explosion in the colony? What are the circumstances which can thus array all the wealth, intelligence and respectability of the people against the constituted authorities. Let your crippled commerce, your taxed, overburdened and deeply wronged citizens answer? The first has been embarrassed by acts of parliament, which originated here, the most severe, arbitrary and unconstitutional, while your citizens both gentle and hardy, have been enormously and indiscriminately taxed in order to redeem your soil from the immense and illegal grants to unworthy and sometimes non-resident favourites.

"There was a time when both Cavalier and yeoman dared to be free; when your assembly, boldly just to their constituents, scrupled not to contend with majesty itself in defence of our national and chartered rights. But melancholy is the contrast which Virginia at this time presents. The right of suffrage which was coeval with the existence of the colony, which had lived through the arbitrary reign of James, and with a short interruption through that of the first Charles, which was again revived during the commonwealth, and was considered too sacred to be touched even by the impure hands of the Protector, is now sacrilegiously stolen from you during a season of profound peace and security.

"The mercenary soldiers, sent from the mother country at an immense expense to each of you, fellow-citizens, where are they? Revelling upon the fat of the land at distant and unthreatened posts, while our fathers, and mothers, and brothers, and sisters, are butchered in cold blood by the ruthless savage. Where is now the noble and generous Fairfax, the favourite of the rich and the poor? Where his estimable and benevolent lady? Murdered under the silent mouths of the rusty cannon which surmount yonder palisade. Look at his sad and melancholy mansion, once the scene of generous hospitality to you all – behold its deserted halls and darkened windows. But this is only the nearest evidence before our eyes – within the last twenty-four hours hundreds of worthy citizens have shared the same fate.

"Shall these things be longer borne, fellow-citizens?"

"No! no! no!" burst from the multitude – "down with the Governor, and extermination to the Indians."

He continued. "Already I see a noble band of mounted youths, the sons of your pride and your hopes – flanked by a proud little army of hardier citizens; from these I would ask a pledge, that they never lay down their arms, till their grievances are redressed." —

"We swear – we swear," responded from all, and then, three cheers for General Bacon, made the welkin ring. At this juncture the trumpet, drum, and fife, were heard immediately behind the crowd, and a party of the royal guard, some fifty in number, halted upon the outskirts of the assemblage, while their officer undertook to read a proclamation from the Governor, ordering the mob, as he was pleased to style the meeting, to disperse under penalty of their lives and property. The army of the people, already getting under arms, immediately commenced an evolution by which the temporary commander of the mounted force would have been thrown directly fronting the guard, and between them and the multitude. Bacon saw the intended movement, and instantly countermanded the orders, "Let the people," said he, "deal with this handful of soldiers; we will not weaken our force, and waste our energies by engaging in intestine broils, when our strength is so much called for by the enemies of our race upon the frontiers." The suggestion was immediately adopted; before the hireling band could bring their weapons to the charge, the multitude had closed in upon them, and disarmed them to a man. This accomplished, they were taken to the beach, in spite of the remonstrances of many of the more staid and sober of the Cavaliers and citizens, and there soundly ducked. Very unmilitary indeed was their appearance, as they were marshalled into battle array, all drooping and wet, and thus marched to the music of an ignominious tune to the front of the Governor's house.

The frantic passion of Sir William Berkley can be more easily imagined than described. He saw that he was left almost alone – that those citizens most remarkable for their loyalty had deserted him. However wilful and perverse, he saw the necessity of making temporary concessions, although at the same time more than ever bent upon summary vengeance against the most conspicuous leaders of the opposing party whenever chance or fortune should again place the real power of the colony in his hands. At present he felt that he was powerless – the very means which he had taken to thwart and provoke the people now became the source of the bitterest regret to himself, namely – sending the mercenary soldiers of the crown to distant posts on fictitious emergencies. He resolved therefore to disguise his real feelings until the departure of the popular army, when he could recall his own regular troops, and thus take signal vengeance upon such of the agitators as should be left behind, and thence march immediately to the subjugation of the force commanded by Bacon. Scarcely had the presence of the dripping guard, as seen through his window, suggested these ideas, before an opportunity offered of putting in practice his temporary forbearance.

A committee was announced, at the head of which was Mr. Harrison, his former friend and supporter – they were the bearers of a conciliatory letter from General Bacon. In this letter the young commander in chief, in accordance with the suggestions of the older Cavaliers, respectfully announced his election to the command of the volunteer army, and concluded by requesting the Governor to heal all existing breaches by sanctioning his own appointment, as well as that of the appended list of young Cavaliers, to the various stations annexed to their names; and that no delay might occur in the pursuit of the enemy, an immediate answer was requested. The stout old Cavalier was ready to burst with ill suppressed rage as he marked the cool and respectful tone of this epistle, coming from one he most cordially detested and despised, both on public and private grounds.

The committee waited until he had penned his answer, which was cold and formal, but polite. In it he declined signing the commissions in the absence of the council, but promised to convene it early on the ensuing day, when he stated that he would despatch a courier after the army, if the council thought proper to approve of the popular proceedings. He promised also to dismantle the distant forts, and immediately to call in the foreign troops for the defence of the capital.

With this answer, the committee, he to whom it was addressed, and the populace were well satisfied. It really promised more than they had expected of the obstinate old Governor. Little did they dream of the lurking treachery in the old man's heart, much less did they truly interpret the equivocal language contained in the note itself, concerning the foreign soldiers, and the defence of the capital. Little did they imagine that they themselves were the foes against whom he proposed to employ the mercenaries.

The army now took up its line of march across the bridge, amidst the cheers and blessings of the multitude; men, women, and children following them to the boundaries of the island.

Part of the force was sent up the river in sloops, in order to co-operate with the main army in their design of driving the tribes scattered along the water courses of the peninsula, to a common point of defence, and thus forcing them, if possible, into an open, general, and decisive engagement. The youthful commander in chief was intimately acquainted with all the localities between the seat of government, and the falls of the river, (where Richmond now stands,) and he very ingeniously arranged his forces by land and water, so that he might at the same time drive the treacherous enemy before him through the peninsula, and avoiding a premature battle, concentrate the enemy at the point already indicated. It was with this general view, that one part of his force was now sent up the river, while the other pursued the route between the Chickahominy and the Pamunky rivers. These general views were discussed, and the plan decided upon at a council of war, held on the main land, immediately after the troops had passed the bridge. Bacon having imparted to Charles Dudley, his Aid-de-Camp, such orders as the emergency required, turned his horse's head again toward the bridge, and retraced his steps to Jamestown.

CHAPTER V

The martial sounds of drums and trumpets had scarcely died away over the distant hills, when Sir William Berkley despatched couriers to the various military outposts of the colony, peremptorily ordering the commanders to march forthwith to Jamestown with the forces under their command. To these couriers also were given secret instructions for the private ears of such of his loyal friends among the Cavaliers living on their routes, as he knew would adhere to him under any circumstances, urgently soliciting their immediate presence at the capital. After these were despatched, he summoned a secret conclave of such friends, equally worthy of his trust, as were yet to be found in the city.

Thus were they engaged, as General Bacon, habited in the rich military fashion of the day, rode along the north western skirt of the city, his own gay attire, and the splendid trappings of his horse wretchedly mocking the desolation within. He drew up at the back court of the Berkley Arms, dismounted, and passed immediately into a private room. Having despatched a servant for the landlord, he employed the time before he made his appearance, in meditations upon the singular and protracted absence of Brian O'Reily, the new responsibilities which he had just assumed, and the present condition and future destinies of the fair invalid at the gubernatorial mansion.

When the landlord entered he quickly demanded if Doctor Roland had inquired for him during the forenoon, and was answered that he had not. A servant was despatched with a note to the Doctor repeating his request for an interview of five minutes at the Arms. After he had waited some time in the most intense impatience, the servant returned with a verbal message stating that the doctor would wait on Gen. Bacon immediately.

"From whom did you obtain this answer?"

"From the porter at the door, sir."

"Very well, you may retire!"

As he sat impatiently listening for the heavy footsteps of the doctor, he heard a light fairy foot tripping up the stairs, toward his room, and in the next instant a gentle tap at the door. His heart almost leaped to his mouth as he indistinctly bade the applicant to come in. "Can it be possible," said he to himself, "that Virginia has escaped from her jailers? Was the story of her illness but an invention of the Governor's?"

Before he had answered these questions to his own satisfaction, the door was suddenly thrust backward and Harriet Harrison stood before him.

She was pale, agitated, and gasping for breath, as she threw herself unasked into a seat. Bacon was from his previous emotions scarcely more composed, and his heart beat tumultuously against his doublet, as he endeavoured vainly to offer the courtesies due to her sex and standing.

"Oh, Mr. Bacon!" (gasped the agitated girl) "fly for your life."

"On what account, my dear young lady?"

"I'll tell you as quick as I can. I had just obtained admission to-day to Virginia's room for the first time, when, after having spent the time, and more, allotted to me by the doctor, as I was coming down the stairs I had to pass the door of Sir William's library, and I accidentally overheard him giving orders to an officer to collect some soldiers from the barracks and make you a prisoner in this house. How he knew you were here I know not; but I was no sooner out of the door than I flew to the back court below, demanded of the servant holding your horse to point out your room, and rushed in in this strange manner to put you on your guard. Now, fly for your life – you have not a moment to lose!"

"One word of Virginia, your fair friend, and I am gone. Will she survive? Is her reason unsettled? Does she believe the strange story of the Recluse?"

"In a word then, she is better – of sound mind, and in her heart does not believe one word of that story, though sober reason is strangely perplexed."

"One word more, and I have done. Does she inquire for me?"

"The very first word she said to me was, 'Does Nathaniel believe it?' Now go, while yet you may. Should any new emergency arise in your absence I will despatch a courier after you."

"Yet one message to Virginia. Tell her that I have accidentally discovered in the trinket preserved by her father, and worn by me in the days of my infancy, the likeness of her whom I have every reason to believe my mother. Tell her not to hope too sanguinely, but to give that circumstance its weight, and trust to the developments of time; and now I commit you both, my dearest friends, to the protection of an overruling Providence; farewell."

With these parting words he rushed down stairs, mounted his fleet charger, and swiftly left the court just as the Governor's emissaries entered the front porch of the house to arrest him.

Harriet drew her veil closely over her face, and almost as fleetly sought her father's dwelling.

Our hero in a very few minutes placed the river which separates the island from the main land between him and his pursuers. The sun was yet above the western horizon, and the clouds which spread in fleecy and stationary masses, were tinted with the softest hues of the violet and the rose, filling the mind with pleasing images of repose, cheerfulness, and hope. These soothing and delightful influences of the summer evening were in a great measure lost however upon our hero as he pursued his solitary way through the unbroken forest in the immediate footsteps of the army.

Besides the inevitable suspense attending the developments of his own origin and destiny – there were immediate anticipations before him of no pleasing character. He had just assumed the responsibilities of an office, which at the very outset was attended with the most painful embarrassments. His keen military eye ran over the ground occupied by the enemies of his country, and perceived at once that to make his enterprise completely and permanently successful, the savages must be driven entirely from the peninsula.

The very first on the list of these nations was the Chickahominy, at the head of which was the youthful queen, who had so lately perilled her life and her authority for his own salvation from the tortures of her countrymen. His decisive and energetic mind perceived the stern necessity which existed of driving these melancholy relics of once powerful nations far distant from the haunts of the white man. The question was not now presented to his mind, whether a foreign nation should land upon the shores of these aboriginal possessors. That question had long since been decided. It was now a matter of life or death with the European settlers and their descendants – a question of existence or no existence – permanent peace or continual murders. The whites had tried all the conciliatory measures of which they supposed themselves possessed. Peace after peace had succeeded to the frequent fires and bloodshed of the savages. The calumet had been smoked time after time, and hostage after hostage had been exchanged, yet there was no peace and security for the white man. The right of the aboriginals to the soil was indeed plain and indisputable; yet now that the Europeans were in possession, whether by purchase or conquest, the absolute necessity of offensive warfare against them was equally plain and unquestioned in his mind. These views had been hastily communicated to the council of officers held on the banks of the river, at the commencement of the march, and unanimously concurred in by them. Notwithstanding this unanimity of opinion among his associates in command, the very first duty which presented itself in accordance with these views, harrowed his feelings in the most painful manner. His imagination carried him forward to the succeeding morning, when his followers would in all probability be carrying fire and sword into the heart of the settlement ruled by his preserver. As the refined and feeling surgeon weeps in secret over the necessity of a painful and dangerous operation upon a delicate female friend, yet subdues his feelings and steels his nerves for the approaching trial, so our youthful commander silenced the rising weakness in his heart, and urged his steed still deeper into the forest. He determined to temper and soften stern necessity with humanity.

A few hours' ride brought him up with the baggage and artillery of the army. The sun had already gone down, but a brilliant starlight, and a balmy and serene air revived his drooping spirits, as he swiftly passed these lumbering appendages.

Scarcely had he placed himself at the head of the marching column, and perceived that the flower and chivalry of his command – the mounted Cavaliers, were still in advance of him, before the sharp quick report of their fire-arms was heard at some three quarters of a mile distance in advance. These were quickly succeeded by the savage war-whoop, and in a few moments a bright red column of fire and smoke shot up towards the heavens immediately in front. His spurs were dashed into his charger's flanks, and he flew through the fitfully illuminated forest toward a gently swelling hill from beyond which the light seemed to proceed.

When he had gained this eminence, a sight greeted his eyes which awakened all the tenderest sympathies of his nature. Orapacs, the sole remaining village of the Chickahominies – the scene of his late tortures – as well as his preservation, was wrapped in flames. Ever and anon a terrified or wounded savage came darting through the forest heedless alike of him and of the martial sounds in his rear. He reined up his courser on the summit and sadly viewed the scene.

His commands were no longer necessary for the existing emergency. The deed, for which he had been so laboriously and studiously preparing his mind was done. The royal wigwam, the very scene of his shelter, and of Wyanokee's hospitality, was already enveloped by the devouring element. A few struggling and desperate warriors still kept up the unequal contest, but in a few moments, even the despairing yells of these were hushed in the cold and everlasting silence of death. Painfully and intently he gazed upon the crumbling walls of the once peaceful home of his Indian friend. He could perceive no appearance of the unfortunate queen. His imagination immediately conjured up the image of the heroic maiden, her form bleeding and mutilated as it lay among the last defenders of the land of her fathers. By a singular sophistry of the mind, he consoled himself by the reflection, that the orders had not proceeded from his lips – that his hand had no part in the matter, although he had himself laid down the plan of the campaign, of which the scene before him was the first result. True, he had mentioned no exact time for the accomplishment of this measure, and the ardour of his young companions in arms had outstripped his own intentions; nevertheless, the design was his, however much he might soothe his own feelings by the want of personal participation.

By the time that the infantry and heavy artillery had arrived upon the spot occupied by their General, the village of Orapacs was a heap of smouldering ruins. The scene was again covered with darkness, save when it was illuminated at intervals by a fitful gleam, as some quivering ruin fell tardily among the smouldering embers of the walls which had already fallen. He assumed the command of his troops, and marched them into the plain between the place they then occupied, and the site of the melancholy scene we have described. By his orders also, the trumpets were ordered to command the return of the impetuous Cavaliers. Dudley and his compatriots soon came bounding over the plain, exhilarated with the first flush of success, and not a little surprised at the cold and respectful salutations which greeted them from their commander. Most of them, however, were acquainted with his late sufferings and feeble bodily health, and to this cause they were willing to attribute his present want of euthusiasm.

Bacon had no sooner issued the necessary orders for the night than, taking Dudley by the arm, he walked forth into the forest beyond the sentinels already posted.

"Tell me, Dudley," (said he in a hurried and agitated voice,) "was she slain?"

"Was who slain?"

"The queen of these dominions!"

"No, I believe not. I think she was borne from the scene early in the conflict, by some of her tribe."

"Thank God!" he fervently ejaculated, and then addressing himself to his aid, he continued, "Return, Dudley, to the camp – superintend the execution of the orders I have issued for our security, in person, but follow me not, and suffer no one, either officer or soldier, to approach the ruins. I will return in the course of a couple of hours."

Having thus spoken, he suddenly disappeared through the forest, and his companion returned to the camp.

With slow and melancholy steps our hero approached the late busy and animated scene. The beasts of prey were sending up their savage, but plaintive notes in horrible unison with his own feelings. The cool evening breeze fanned the dying embers, and occasionally loaded the atmosphere with brilliant showers of sparks and flakes of fire. As these rolled over his person and fell dead upon his garments, he folded his arms, and contemplated the ruins of the wigwam in which he had found protection.

"There," said he, "was perhaps the birth-place of a hundred monarchs of these forests. Until civilized man intruded upon these dominions, they were in their own, and nature's way, joyous, prosperous, and happy. They have resided amidst the shades of these venerable trees, perhaps since time began! The very waters of the stream bubbling joyously over yonder pebbles, have borrowed their name. Where are they all now? The last male youth of their kingly line was slain by these hands, and the last habitations of his race fired and plundered by soldiers owing obedience to my commands. The plough and the harrow will soon break down alike their hearth-stones and the scene of their council fires. Yea, and the very monuments of their dead must be levelled to meet the ever craving demands of civilized existence. But pshaw! is this the preparation to steel a soldier's heart, and fire it with military ardour and enthusiasm? Let me rather ponder upon my own sufferings on this spot. Let me remember the groans of dying old men, women, and children, which rent the air twelve hours since. And above all, let me bear in mind the despairing shrieks of her, who was more than a mother to me, of her who clothed and fed and protected me in infancy. Where is she now?"

"She is alive and well!" answered a feeble and plaintive voice from the wild flowers and shrubbery which grew upon an earthen monument erected to the savage dead.

"Who is it that speaks?"

"One that had better have slept with those who sleep beneath!"

"Wyanokee?"

"Ay, who is left but Wyanokee and these mouldering bones beneath, of all the proud race that once trod these plains unchallenged, and free as the water that bubbles at your feet."

He approached the rude monument as she spoke. It consisted of a grass-grown mount some thirty feet in length, by ten in height and breadth, and was surmounted by thick clustering briers and wild flowers. The youthful queen was sitting upon the margin of the tumulus, her head resting upon her hand, and it in its turn supported on her knee. As the officer approached, she stood erect upon the mount. Her person was clad and ornamented much as when he had last seen her, except that above one shoulder protruded a richly carved unstrung bow, and from the other, a quiver of feather-tipped arrows crossing the bow near her waist. The soldier replied, —