whatsoever of that nature, until such time as the King be fully informed of the state of the case by such person or persons as shall be sent from the said Nathaniel Bacon, in the behalf of the people, and the determination thereof be remitted hither."

This was plain. His Majesty's Governor and representative was making war on Virginia. His Majesty's true representative was not this traitor, but General Bacon. As the most loyal of the King's subjects they meant to crush the King's Governor if they could; to inform the King of all things; and meanwhile to oppose and fight the King's troops if they came to Virginia. The last clause bore a strong resemblance to an important feature in another paper, signed at Philadelphia July 4, 1776. This engagement taken by the Virginians was signed August 3, 1676, nearly a hundred years before.

The great business was thus finished. The leading men were banded together in support of Bacon, and the next step was to organize a government. None but the Virginia people had authority to do that; and Bacon issued writs for the representatives of the people to assemble early in September. The writs were in the name of his Majesty, and signed by four members of the Council who were present at the meeting. Then, without loss of time, swift couriers bore them away to the four winds; and Bacon, secure now, as he said, that in his absence "to destroy the wolves" the foxes would not "devour the sheep," set off with his army again to finish his Indian campaign.

He left behind him a mighty tumult. Virginia -had risen for the right. The New World had defied the Old. The oath on the Virginia Field of Mars to fight Eng.

land, sworn by torchlight in the midst of grim faces, stirred up a great wave of rejoicing, which rolled over all Virginia, from the lowland to the mountains. Everywhere men and women hailed it with enthusiasm. "Now we can build ships," they said, "and, like New England, trade to any part of the world!”- an evidence of the aversion to the navigation laws. Sarah Drummond, the wife of the sober Scottish conspirator, exclaimed: --

"The child that is unborn shall have cause to rejoice for the good that will come by the rising of the country!" And when a person beside her croaked,

"We must expect a greater power from England that will certainly be our ruin,” Drummond's wife picked up a stick, broke it in two, and said disdainfully,

"I fear the power of England no more than a broken straw!"

When others faltered, she exclaimed bravely, "We will do well enough!" and that was the hopeful feeling of the great mass of the people. Thousands of men and women - and the hearts of women are braver and more devoted than the hearts of men, often were uttering, doubtless, similar words, full of the true ring, all over Virginia. The country was with Bacon, and swore the oath with him.

He was, meanwhile, at work again. Having issued his proclamation that all friends of the cause should, on "the arrival of the forces from England, retire into the wilderness and oppose them," he crossed James River at Curles, according to one account, attacked the Appomattox Indians at what is now Petersburg, and killed or routed the whole tribe. He then traversed the south side toward the Nottoway and Roanoke, dispersed all the savages he encountered, and early in September

"draws in his forces within the verge of the English Plantations." At West Point, his "prime rendezvous or place of retreat," he dismissed all but a detachment, to go home and rest; and this was the state of things, when the whole face of affairs suddenly changed.

News came that Sir William Berkeley, with seventeen ships and a thousand men, had returned from Accomac, sailed up James River, and was again in possession of Jamestown.

XVIII.

THE WHITE APRONS AT JAMESTOWN.

THE fortunes of Sir William Berkeley in the "King dom of Accomac" had been a checker-work of sun and shadow. The first outlook there seemed gloomy indeed; the chill wind of disloyalty blew steadily over that sandy region, as it blew across the green hills of Virginia. Few gleams of hope cheered the black darkness around the old King's-man. The virus of rebellion had infected the Eastern Shore men as well as the West Shore men. His Excellency could get no substantial planters to espouse his fortunes; and it seemed that if he returned at all, it would be at the head of a handful of "rabble."

But all at once the skies cleared. A lucky accident cheered the heart of the despondent Cavalier. Bacon, after attending to matters at Middle-Plantation, had sent one of his friends to confine the Governor in Accomae, or capture him. This person was Mr. Giles Bland, "a gentleman of an active and stirring disposition, and no grate admirer of Sir William's goodness." He was

to go and "block up" his foe Sir William, or induce the people to surrender him, "thinking the country, like the Friar in the Bush, must needs be so mad as to dance to their pipe." So, General Bacon hoping that his Lieutenant, Bland, might "go forth with an empty hand but return with a full fist," placed this business in his charge, and went after the Indians.

These phrases of the old chronicle show the eccentric humor of the times. Such turns of expression constantly crop up in these uncouth writings, and relieve the tragedy of the narrative. The authors sympathize really with Bacon, but then he and his friends. are rogues and rebels; and it is the "Rogue's March" they are going to pipe to make the Accomackians dance. The performance soon begins, but a dirge is to wind up the gay lilt for some people. Bacon's "Lieutenantgeneral Bland, a man of courage and haughty bearing," set forth on his enterprise. He had two hundred and fifty men, and one ship with four guns, under command of an old sailor, Captain Carver, who was "resolved to adventure his old bones" for the rebel cause. This one ship was insufficient, however, and Bland seized another, lying in York River, which belonged to a Captain Laramore, probably a trader and a friend of Berkeley's. This seizure irritated Laramore and was the cause of many woes. He had been arrested and confined in his cabin, but dissembled, professed sympathy, and was restored to the command of his ship; and then Bland sailed for Accomac. On the way he captured another vessel, making four in all; and with this fleet came in sight of the Eastern Shore.

At the appearance of the four ships mounted with cannon Sir William gave up all for lost. His days in Accomac had not been happy days. Instead of

anathematizing Bacon, the planters echoed the public complaints, and few had joined his standard. Now he found himself threatened with capture by a rebel fleet; and his situation was not unlike that of his master Charles I. in his darkest days. An incident changed everything. Laramore's mind was still rankling with resentment at the seizure of his ship; and he privately sent word to Berkeley that if assistance were given him he would betray Bland. At the time, the vessels were at anchor, and Captain Carver of the four-gun ship, Bland's second in command, had gone on shore to see Berkeley. Laramore's offer resembled a trap, but a friend of the Governor's, Colonel Philip Ludwell, offered to vouch for him, and to lead the party to assist in Bland's capture. Sir William thereupon agreed to everything, and Ludwell "prepared an armed boat in a creek not far off, but out of sight." At the time appointed he rowed toward Laramore's ship was supposed to be coming to parley; and Bland did not fire on him. The sequel quickly came. boat ran under the ship's stern, and one of Ludwell's men leaped on board and putting a pistol to Bland's breast said, "You are my prisoner." The rest followed and disarmed the crew, who were said to be drunk, but probably were Laramore's friends; and Carver soon returning, he and Bland were "amazed and yielded." No further resistance was made, and Colonel Ludwell returned in triumph with his prisoners to Berkeley.1

The

1 The hero of this exploit, Colonel Philip Ludwell, was Berkeley's secretary, and after the Governor's death married "Dame ffrances Berkeley," who had been a young widow when Berkeley married her. Of her three husbands she seems to have preferred the second, as she continued to call herself "Lady Berkeley" to the time of her death.