On the first day of April (1658) the Burgesses are dissolved, but refuse to disperse. On the second they depose the Governor, but invent a device which will please everybody. Here is the whole ingenious proceeding in the words of the actors:

I. "We, the said Burgesses, do declare that we have in ourselves the full power of the election and appointment of all officers in this country until such time as we shall have order to the contrary from the supreme power in England.

II. "That all former election of Governor and Council be void and null.

III. "That the power of Governor for the future shall be conferred on Coll. Samuel Matthews, Esq., who by us shall be invested with all the just rights and privileges belonging to the Governor and Captain General of Virginia.”

All this is done on the day after the dissolution. There is to be no misunderstanding. They, the Burgesses, elected Governor Matthews; they depose Governor Matthews; they reëlect Governor Matthews, who by us" shall be reinvested with the powers of Governor of Virginia. And on the third of April the "old planter and true lover of Virginia" cheerfully assented. and took the oath.

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The cordial relations between the old-new ruler and his parliament were not again interrupted. The bloodless three days of revolution had placed things on an intelligible basis. Governor Matthews continued to rule Virginia until the Restoration was in sight, when, as though not wishing to behold that spectacle, the old planter and deserving Commonwealth's man expired.

IX.

THE BATTLE OF THE SEVERN.

VIRGINIA remained tranquil during the entire period of the Commonwealth with the exception of one year, which was marked by a bloody disaster. This and a

still bloodier incident with which she was connected will now be related.

In the midst of profound quiet intelligence reached Jamestown (1656) that new trouble with the Indians was probably near. About seven hundred Ricahecrians, a tribe living beyond the Blue Ridge, had come down from the mountains, and established themselves near James River Falls, in the neighborhood of the present city of Richmond. That meant danger to the border families, possibly to the lower settlements; and the Burgesses promptly sent a force to drive them away. The officer in command was Colonel Edward Hill, former Speaker, and called a "devil" by Mr. William Hatcher. The result of the campaign was melancholy. Colonel Hill marched on the Indians at the head of the Virginians and a hundred braves of the friendly Pamunkey tribe, commanded by their chief Totopotomoi. A battle took place near Richmond, and either by surprise or from incapacity, Hill was routed by the Ricahecrians. Totopotomoi was killed, and the whole force retreated in disorder, after which we hear no more of the Ricahecrians, who probably went back to their mountains.

The other incident which disturbed the harmony of the Commonwealth régime was more important. A bat

tle was fought, followed by bloody executions, which decided for the time, at least, the fate of Maryland. The chief actor in this fierce business was that same William Clayborne, "the rebel," who had so harried Leonard Calvert. Calvert had now disappeared, but Governor Stone, representing Lord Baltimore, occupied his seat and was a King's man. So Clayborne and his brother commissioners, after receiving the surrender of Virginia, sailed for Maryland (April, 1652) under the broad authority from Parliament to reduce "all the plantations within the Bay of the Chesapeake."

What followed in Maryland is a vivid picture of the times, and belongs to a history of the Virginians, since Virginia and the Virginia governors were concerned in it. The state of things was curious. The " beauty and extraordinary goodness" of this good land of Maryland had attracted covetous eyes. She was the younger sister of Virginia, the Rachel of the contemporary pamphlet, "Leah and Rachel,” signifying Virginia and Maryland. "Leah was tender-eyed, but Rachel was beautiful and well favored," says the book of Genesis, “and Laban said, It is better that I give her to thee than that I should give her to another man.” Who the successful wooer should be, for the hand of Rachel, was now to be decided. Church of England Virginia claimed this fair domain under her original charter. Lord Baltimore, the Roman Catholic, claimed it by the King's patent. The Puritans who had gone thither claimed it by right of occupancy. And Clayborne, the rebel, claiming Kent Island as a free gift from Charles I., meant to assert his right to that, and in these days of trouble gain control of the whole country. There never had been the least doubt in the mind of anybody who knew this

stalwart rebel and politician what his real motives were. He wanted Maryland, caring little, it seems, for the success of this or that religious sect; and his brother Commissioners were of the same mind. "It was not religion," says a contemporary writer, "it was not punctilios these Commissioners stood upon it was that sweete, that rich, that large country they aimed at."

The poor Catholics were thus caught between the upper and the nether millstone. They had the Parliament, the Puritans, and the Church of England men all against them; and it would be ludicrous if it were not melancholy to see how partisan writers have distorted the facts. Certain historians can see no merit whatever in the unlucky Roman Catholics. They are black sheep who ought of right to be fleeced by the saintly. They are always in the wrong. The duty of the Lord's anointed is to denounce their mummeries and exterminate them. Clayborne, the Puritan leader, is always in the right when he tramples on them and puts them to the sword. They are to be allowed freedom of conscience—except as to popery. And yet they complain! they, the followers of the most intolerant of all churches.

The truth is that the Roman Catholics of Maryland were the only tolerant people of that frightfully intolerant age. The Governor, it has been seen, was forced to swear that he "would not molest any person believing in Jesus Christ, for or in respect of religion." But their toleration was accounted to them for a crime. The Puritan party were their sworn foes, and candid Mr. Bancroft says, "had neither the gratitude to respect the rights of the government by which they had been received and fostered, nor magnanimity to continue

the toleration to which alone they were indebted for their residence in the colony;" for the furthest reach of their toleration when they came into power was to "confirm the freedom of conscience, provided the liberty were not extended to 'popery, prelacy, or licentiousness' of opinion!" One reads this grim piece of humor with a queer sensation. There should be perfect freedom of religion-except for Catholics, Church of England people, and others who differed with themselves in theology!

Spite of all the fatal bias of the old historians, the truth seems to be perfectly plain. The Catholics were in their right, and Clayborne and the rest were not. Neither the famous rebel, nor the Protestants of any description had any rights in Maryland save what were granted them by the Catholics. What they acquired beyond this, they acquired by force. Clayborne's claim to Kent Island had been formally repudiated by the Commissioners of Plantations, and thenceforth he was an agitator only; nor were his Puritan or Church of England followers any better. But the times were in disorder; the Puritan element had grown powerful; and the hardy rebel grasped it and struck at his enemies with it.

What followed in these years, from 1652 to the end of the Commonwealth, was civil war. The restless foe of Baltimore had been checkmated often, but a new game had begun. Baltimore's friend, the King, was dead; the Parliament was in power; and Clayborne, the emissary of this Parliament, will go and take his own again. The blow was struck at once. As soon as Berkeley was driven from Jamestown, Clayborne sailed, as we have seen, in his frigate for St. Mary's; put the strong hand on Stone, Baltimore's Deputy Governor,