Chapter 34

"When Liberty rallies Once more in thy regions, remember me then." _Byron._

It was on a calm, clear morning in the latter part of the month of September, that the little army of Nathaniel Bacon, wearied and worn with protracted marches, and with hard fought battles, might be seen winding through the woodland district to the north of Jamestown. The two cavaliers, who led the way a little distance ahead of the main body of the insurgents, were Bacon and his favourite comrade, Hansford--engaged, as before, in an animated, but now a more earnest conversation. The brow of the young hero was more overcast with care and reflection than when we last saw him. The game, which he had fondly hoped was over, had yet to be played, and the stake that remained was far more serious than any which had yet been risked. During the brief interval that his undisputed power existed, the colony had flourished and improved, and the bright dream which he had of her approaching delivery from bondage, seemed about to be realized. And now it was sad and disheartening to think that the battle must again be fought, and with such odds against him, that the chances of success were far more remote than ever. But Bacon was not the man to reveal his feelings, and he imparted to others the cheerfulness which he failed to feel himself. From time to time he would ride along the broken ranks, revive their drooping spirits, inspire them with new courage, and impart fresh ardor into their breasts for the glorious cause in which they were engaged. Then rejoining Hansford, he would express to him the fears and apprehensions which he had so studiously concealed from the rest.

It was on one of these occasions, after deploring the infatuated devotion of so many of the colonists to the cause of blind loyalty, and the desertion of so many on whom he had relied to co-operate in his enterprize, that he said, bitterly:

"I fear sometimes, my friend, that we have been too premature in our struggle for liberty. Virginia is not yet ready to be free. Her people still hug the chains which enslave them."

"Alas!" said Hansford, "it is too true that we cannot endue the infant in swaddling bands with the pride and strength of a giant. The child who learns to walk must meet with many a fall, and the nation that aspires to freedom will often be checked by disaster and threatened with ruin."

"And this it is," said Bacon, sorrowfully, "that makes me sick at heart. Each struggle to be free sinks the chain of the captive deeper into his flesh. And should we fail now, my friend, we but tighten the fetters that bind us."

"Think not thus gloomily on the subject," replied Hansford. "Believe me, that you have already done much to develope the germ of freedom in Virginia. It may be that it may not expand and grow in our brief lives; and even though our memory may pass away, and the nation we have served may fail to call us blessed, yet they will rejoice in the fruition of that freedom for which we may perish. Should the soldier repine because he is allotted to lead a forlorn hope? No! there is a pride and a glory to know, that his death is the bridge over which others will pass to victory."

"God bless your noble soul, Hansford," said Bacon, with the intensest admiration. "It is men like you and not like me who are worthy to live in future generations. Men who, regardless of the risk or sacrifice of self, press onward in the discharge of duty. Love of glory may elevate the soul in the hour of triumph, but love of duty, and firmness resolutely to discharge it, can alone sustain us in the hour of peril and trial."

This was at last the difference between the two men. Intense desire for personal fame, united with a subordinate love of country impelled Bacon in his course. Inflexible resolution to discharge a sacred duty, an entire abnegation of self in its performance, and the strongest convictions of right constituted the incentives to Hansford. It was this that in the hour of their need sustained the heart of Hansford, while the more selfish but noble heart of his leader almost sank within him; and yet the effects upon the actions of the two were much the same. The former, unswayed by circumstances however adverse, pressed steadily and firmly on; while the latter, with the calmness of desperation, knowing that safety, and (what was dearer) glory, lay in the path of success, braced himself for the struggle with more than his usual resolution.

"But, alas!" continued Bacon, in the same melancholy tone, "if we should fail, how hard to be forgotten. Your name and memory to perish among men forever--your very grave to be neglected and uncared for; and this living, breathing frame, instinct with life, and love, and glory, to pass away and mingle with the dust of the veriest worm which crawls upon the earth. Oh, God! to be forgotten, to leave no impress on the world but what the next flowing tide may efface forever. Think of it, realize it, Hansford--to be forgotten!"

"It would, indeed, be a melancholy thought," said Hansford, with a deep sympathy for his friend--"if this were all. But when we remember that we stand but on the threshold of existence, and have a higher, a holier destiny to attain beyond, we need care but little for what is passing here. I have sometimes thought, my friend, that as in manhood we sometimes smile at the absurd frivolities which caught our childish fancy, so when elevated to a higher sphere we would sit and wonder at the interest which we took in the trifling pleasures, the empty honours, and the glittering toys of this present life."

"And do you mean to say that honour and glory are nothing here?"

"Only so far as they reflect the honour and glory which are beyond."

"Pshaw, man!" cried Bacon, "you do not, you cannot think so. You ask me the reason of this desire for fame and remembrance when we are dust. I tell you it is an instinct implanted in us by the Almighty to impel us to glorious deeds."

"Aye," said Hansford, quietly, "and when that desire, by our own indulgence, becomes excessive, just as the baser appetites of the glutton or the debauchee, it becomes corrupt and tends to our destruction."

"You are a curious fellow, Hansford," said Bacon, laughing, "and should have been one of old Noll's generals--for I believe you can preach as well as you can fight, and believe me that is no slight commendation. But you must excuse me if I cannot agree with you in all of your sentiments. I am sorry to say that old Butler's 'pulpit drum ecclesiastic' seldom beat me to a church parade while I was in England, and here in Virginia they send us the worst preachers, as they send us the worst of every thing. But a truce to the subject. Tell me are you a believer in presentiments?"

"Surely such things are possible, but I believe them to be rare," replied his companion. "Future events certainly make an impression upon the animal creation, and I know not why man should be exempt entirely from a similar law. The migratory birds will seek a more southern clime, even before a change of weather is indicated by the wind, and the appearance of the albatross, or the bubbling of the porpoise, if we may believe the sailors' account, portend a storm."

"These phenomena," suggested Bacon, "may easily be explained by some atmospheric influence, insensible to our nature, but easily felt by them."

"I might answer," replied Hansford, "that if insensible to us, we are not warranted in presuming their existence. But who can tell in the subtle mechanism of the mind how sensitive it may be to the impressions of coming yet unseen events. At least, all nations have believed in the existence of such an influence, and the Deity himself has deigned to use it through his prophets, in the revelation of his purposes to man."

"Well, true or not," said Bacon, in a low voice, "I have felt the effect of such a presentiment in my own mind, and although I have tried to resist its influence I have been unable to do so. There is something which whispers to me, Hansford, that I will not see the consummation of my hopes in this colony--and that dying I shall leave behind me an inglorious name. For what at last is an unsuccessful patriot but a rebel. And oh, as I have listened to the monitions of this demon, it seemed as though the veil of futurity were raised, and I could read my fate in after years. Some future chronicler will record this era of Virginia's history, and this struggle for freedom on the part of her patriot children will be styled rebellion; our actions misrepresented; our designs misinterpreted; and I the leader and in part the author of the movement will be handed down with Wat Tyler and Jack Cade to infamy, obloquy and reproach."

"Think not thus gloomily," said Hansford, "the feelings you describe are often suggested to an excited imagination by the circumstances with which it is surrounded; just as dreams are the run mad chroniclers of our daily thoughts and hopes and apprehensions. You should not yield to them, General, they unman you or at least unfit you for the duties which lie before you."

"You are right," returned Bacon; "and I banish them from me forever. I have half a mind to acknowledge myself your convert, Hansford; eschew the gaily bedizzened Glory, and engage your demure little Quaker, Duty, as my handmaiden in her place."

"I will feel but too proud of such a convert to my creed," said Hansford laughing. "And now what of your plans on Jamestown?"

"Why to tell you the truth," said Bacon gravely; "I am somewhat at fault in regard to my actions there. I could take the town in a day, and repulse those raw recruits of the old Governor with ease, if they would only sally out. But I suspect the old tyrant will play a safe game with me--and securely ensconced behind his walls, will cut my brave boys to pieces with his cannon before I can make a successful breach."

"You could throw up breastworks for your protection," suggested Hansford.

"Aye, but I fear it would be building a stable after the horse was stolen. With our small force we could not resist their guns while we were constructing our fortifications. But I will try it by night, and we may succeed. The d----d old traitor--if he would only meet me in open field, I could make my way 'through twenty times his stop.'"

"Well, we must encounter some risk," replied Hansford. "I have great hopes from the character of his recruits, too. Though they number much more than ourselves, yet they serve without love, and in the present exhausted exchequer of the colony, are fed more by promises than money."

"They are certainly not likely to be fed by _angels_," said Bacon, "as some of the old prophets are said to have been. But, Hansford, an idea has just struck me, which is quite a new manoeuvre in warfare, and from which your ideas of chivalry will revolt."

"What is it?" asked Hansford eagerly.

"Why if it succeeds," returned Bacon, "I will warrant that Jamestown is in our hands in twenty-four hours, without the loss of more blood than would fill a quart canteen."

"Bravo, then, General, if you add such an important principle to the stock of military tactics, I'll warrant that whispering demon lied, and that you will retain both Glory and Duty in your service."

"I am afraid you will change your note, Thomas, when I develope my plan. It is simply this--to detail a party of men to scour the country around Jamestown, and collect the good dames and daughters of our loyal councillors. If we take them with us, I'll promise to provide a secure defence against the enemies' fire. The besieged will dare not fire a gun so long as there is danger of striking their wives and children, and we, in the meantime, secure behind this temporary breastwork, will prepare a less objectionable defence. What think you of the plan, Hansford?"

"Good God!" cried Hansford, "You are not in earnest General Bacon?"

"And why not?" said Bacon, in reply. "If such a course be not adopted, at least half of the brave fellows behind us will be slaughtered like sheep. While no harm can result to the ladies themselves, beyond the inconvenience of a few hours' exposure to the night air, which they should willingly endure to preserve life."

Hansford was silent. He knew how useless it was to oppose Bacon when he had once resolved. His chivalrous nature revolted at the idea of exposing refined and delicate females to such a trial. And yet he could not deny that the project if successfully carried out would be the means of saving much bloodshed, and of ensuring a speedy and easy victory to the insurgents.

"Why, what are you thinking of, man," said Bacon gaily. "I thought my project would wound your delicate sensibilities. But to my mind there is more real chivalry and more true humanity in sparing brave blood to brave hearts, than in sacrificing it to a sickly regard for a woman's feelings."

"The time has been when brave blood would have leaped gushing from brave hearts," said Hansford proudly, "to protect woman from the slightest shadow of insult."

"Most true, my brave Chevalier Bayard," said Bacon, in a tone of unaffected good humor, "and shall again--and mine, believe me, will not be more sluggish in such a cause than your own. But here no insult is intended and none will be given. These fair prisoners shall be treated with the respect due to their sex and station. My hand and sword for that. But the time has been when woman too was willing to sacrifice her shrinking delicacy in defence of her country. Wot ye how Rome was once saved by the noble intercession of the wife and mother of Caius Marcus--or how the English forces were beaten from the walls of Orleans by the heroic Joan, or how--"

"You need not multiply examples," said Hansford interrupting him, "to show how women of a noble nature have unsexed themselves to save their country. Your illustrations do not apply, for they did voluntarily what the ladies of Virginia must do upon compulsion. But, sir, I have no more to say. If you persist in this resolution, unchivalrous as I believe it to be, yet I will try to see my duty in ameliorating the condition of these unhappy females as far as possible."

"And in me you shall have been a most cordial coadjutor," returned Bacon. "But, my dear fellow, your chivalry is too shallow. Excuse me, if I say that it is all mere sentiment without a substratum of reason. Now look you--you would willingly kill in battle the husbands of these ladies, and thus inflict a life-long wound upon them, and yet you refuse to pursue a course by which lives may be saved, because it subjects them to a mere temporary inconvenience. But look again. Have you no sympathy left for the wives, no chivalry for the daughters of our own brave followers, whose hearts will be saved full many a pang by a stratagem, which will ensure the safety of their protectors. Believe me, my dear Hansford, if chivalry be nought but a mawkish sentiment, which would throw away the real substance of good, to retain the mere shadow reflected in its mirror, like the poor dog in the fable--the sooner its reign is over the better for humanity."

"But, General Bacon," said Hansford, by no means convinced by the sophistry of his plausible leader, "if the future chronicler of whom you spoke, should indeed write the history of this enterprise, he will record no fact which will reflect less honour upon your name, than that you found a means for your defence in the persons of defenceless women."

"So let it be, my gallant chevalier," replied Bacon, gaily, determined not to be put out of humour by Hansford's grave remonstrance. "But you have taught me not to look into future records for my name, or for the vindication of my course--and your demure damsel Duty has whispered that I am in the path of right. Look ye, Hansford, don't be angry with your friend; for I assure you on the honour of a gentleman, that the dames themselves will bear testimony to the chivalry of Nathaniel Bacon. And besides, my dear fellow, we will not impress any but the sterner old dames into our service. You know the older they are the better they will serve for material for an _impregnable_ fortress."

So saying, Bacon ordered a halt, and communicating to his soldiers his singular design, he detailed Captain Wilford and a party of a dozen men, selected on account of their high character, to capture and bring into his camp the wives of certain of the royalists, who, though residing in the country, had rallied to the support of Sir William Berkeley, on his return to Jamestown. In addition to these who were thus found in their several homes, the detailed corps had intercepted the carriage of our old friend, Colonel Temple; for the old loyalist had no sooner heard of the return of Sir William Berkeley, than he hastened to join him at the metropolis, leaving his wife and daughter to follow him on the succeeding day. What was the consternation and mortification of Thomas Hansford as he saw the fair Virginia Temple conducted, weeping, into the rude camp of the insurgents, followed by her high-tempered old mother, who to use the chaste and classic simile of Tony Lumpkin, "fidgeted and spit about like a Catherine wheel."