BURNING OF JAMESTOWN.

"At every turn, Morena's dusky height
Sustains aloft the battery's iron load,
And, far as mortal eye can compass sight,
The mountain-howitzer, the broken road,
The bristling palisade, the foss o'erflowed,
The stationed band, the never-vacant watch,
The magazine in rocky durance stand,
The holster'd steed beneath the shed of thatch,
The ball-piled pyramid, the ever-blazing match."
--BYRON.

Sir William Berkeley, with the motley crowd of sailors, longshoremen, freed slaves, and such as he could collect, sailed for Jamestown and reached it safely September 7th, 1676. The news of his approach reached Jamestown long before he did, and Colonel Hansford, one of Bacon's youngest and bravest officers, with eight hundred men prepared to resist. A terrible conflict was anticipated, and Sir Albert, on the morning of the expected fight, landed and took Mrs. Price, her daughter and Ester Goffe on board his ship, and dropped down the river a mile or two, to be out of harm's way. These were the first people who had been aboard the wonderful ship Despair.

Rebecca was charmed and entranced at the display of wealth and splendor on board the vessel. The elegance was marvellous.

"You must be very rich," she said to Sir Albert.

"This represents but a small part of my possessions."

"I would I were your heiress."

"You may be, sweet maid. I have no nearer relative to inherit the millions which are burdensome to me."

"Have you no wife--no children?"

He shook his head, looked so sad, and turned away with such a deep drawn sigh, that she could not bear to ask him more.

Berkeley appeared that evening before Jamestown and summoned the rebels to surrender, promising amnesty to all but Lawrence and Drummond, who were then in the town. Hansford refused; but, on the advice of his friends, they all left the town that night. At noon next day Berkeley landed on the island and, kneeling, thanked God for his safe arrival. Only a very few people were found in the town, and Lawrence and Drummond were gone. Mr. Lawrence fled so precipitately that he left his house with all its effects to fall into the hands of the enemy.

Drummond and the thoughtful Mr. Lawrence hastened to find Bacon, who was at West Point at the head of the York River.

Bacon acted with an energy and rapidity that would have done Napoleon or Cromwell credit. With his faithful body guard, among whom were Robert Stevens, Drummond, Cheeseman and Lawrence, he set out for Jamestown. Carriers, sent in every direction, summoned the Baconites to join him, so that his small band increased so rapidly, that when he reached Jamestown he had a force of several hundred.

The governor prepared to receive the rebels. He threw up a strong earth-work, and a palisade had been erected across the neck of the island. Bacon, on reaching Jamestown, rode forward to reconnoitre it. He then ordered his trumpeters to sound the battle cry, and a volley was fired into the town; but no response came back.

Bacon made his headquarters at Greenspring, in Governor Berkeley's own house, and while Sir William dined at the board of the thoughtful Mr. Lawrence, the rebel fed at the table of the governor. Resolving on a siege, Bacon threw up earth-works about the town in front of the palisades. Berkeley's riflemen so annoyed the men at work, that Bacon had recourse to a strange device to protect them. He sent a detachment of horse into the surrounding country, captured and brought to camp the wives of all the prominent gentlemen who fought with Berkeley. Perhaps Mrs. Price only escaped by being on board the ship Despair. Madame Bray, Madame Page, Madame Ballard and Madame Bacon, the wife of Bacon's cousin, were among the number. These women were placed before the workmen in the trenches to protect them from the bullets of Berkeley.

"Have no apprehensions from us, good-wives," said Bacon. "We shall not harm a hair of your head. If your husbands shoot you we are not to blame."

Bacon has been censured for this ungallant strategy; but it worked well and saved his workmen from further annoyance. He sent one of the good-wives into the town under a flag of truce to inform her own and the others' husbands, that he meant to place them "in the forefront of his workmen," during the construction of the earth-works, and if they fired on them, the good-wives would suffer.

No attack was made on Bacon until the earth-works were completed, and then the women were sent to their homes during the night. Next morning at early dawn, Berkeley sounded his battle-cry, and his men mustered at the roll of the drum. Bacon was on the alert. His eagle eye glanced along his earth-works and the gallant men enrolled under him.

"They are coming! They are coming with their whole force!" he shouted, as he stood on the ramparts, his sword in his hand and his eye flashing with the glorious light of battle. Matches were burning, the cocks of the fusees raised, and the Virginians stood cool and undaunted.

There came a puff of smoke from the palisades at Jamestown, a heavy report of a cannon, and an iron ball struck the earth-work.

"Come down, general!" cried the thoughtful Mr. Lawrence. "You endanger your life up there."

Bacon paid no heed to the warning. He was watching the manoeuvres of the enemy, about eight hundred strong, who were about to assault him. Robert Stevens sprang to his side, and both smiled at the lack of courage and discipline which Berkeley's longshoremen displayed. Giles Peram, at the head of the company, marched forth. He wore a tall hat with a feather in it, and strutted about, until his eye caught sight of the enemy, when he wheeled about as quickly as if he were on springs and bounded away toward Jamestown, yelling loud enough to be heard in Bacon's camp:

"Oh, I will be killed! I will be killed!"

A shot was fired from Jamestown, and Giles, believing himself struck, fell on the ground and rolled over and kicked, producing such a ridiculous scene, that Robert and Bacon laughed outright. Berkeley, himself, headed the army, with which he intended to storm the earth-works, and, after some little difficulty, he got his forces formed, and the advance began.

"Don't fire, until I give you the command," said Bacon, coolly. "We will soon disperse this motley crowd, have no fear."

He and Robert were prevailed upon to descend from the ramparts, and all awaited the arrival of the enemy. They came slowly, doing plenty of yelling, and firing their fusees at random. The bullets either buried themselves in the earth-works, or whistled harmlessly through the air. Not one of Bacon's men was touched.

Nearer and nearer they came, until within easy pistol range, when Bacon cried:

"Fire!"

Pistol, musket and cannon belched forth fire and death, while a cloud of smoke rolled up above the fort. One volley had done the work. Alas! the motley crowd from Accomac were no fit adversaries for those stern backwoodsmen. Berkeley's recruits had come over to plunder, and, finding lead and bullets instead of gold and treasure, they fled with light heels to Jamestown, leaving a dozen of their number stretched on the ground as the only proof that they had fought at all.

Bacon now opened a cannonade in earnest on the town. The first ball that came screaming over the town to crash into the house which was the governor's headquarters was answered by a wild yell of fear, and the boastful Mr. Peram might have been seen flying as fast as his short legs would carry him to another part of the fortification. Another boom, and a shot struck the ground ten paces from him, and he wheeled about and ran, until a third shot struck a house before him. Then he ran to the church and crawled under it, where he lay until night.

Berkeley realized that he was in no condition to resist Bacon with such a set of knaves as he had for soldiers.

"We cannot long hold out, Mr. Price," he said as the sun was setting.

"No, Sir William, we must evacuate the city this very night."

"I believe it. Where is that coward Giles Peram?"

"He hath taken refuge under the church."

"Drag him hence. Robert Stevens is among the rebels, and the fool will fare hard if he falls into his hands."

A few moments later the wretched, trembling Giles was brought before the governor. His scarlet coat, lace and ruffles were torn and disordered. He was reprimanded for his cowardice, and the army at once began to evacuate. When day dawned Berkeley was gone and Bacon entered the town. Mr. Drummond, Mr. Lawrence and Mr. Cheeseman went to their homes.

The ship Despair, which had been near enough to witness the scene, now bore down nearer to the town. Boats were lowered and the three women set on shore. Robert greeted his mother, his affianced and his sister with the most ardent affection. He had suffered much uneasiness about them, not knowing where they were, and he was overjoyed to see them.

That evening, while Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Drummond and Mr. Cheeseman were holding a council at the house of the former, the door suddenly opened and a tall white-haired stranger entered. Each started to his feet at the appearance of this apparition and seized pistols and swords.

"Never fear, friends; I came not to harm you," said Sir Albert, in his mild, gentle, but stern voice.

"You intrude--you disturb us!" cried Cheeseman. "We want no spy on our deliberations."

"Verily, my good man, you speak truly. These are deliberations at which there must be no spy. Let no whispering tongue breathe aught of this meeting."

His words were so strange, that they stood amazed, gazing at him in wonder. Drummond at last gasped:

"'Fore God, who are you?"

"A man like you," was the answer; "a man no older, yet whom sorrow hath crushed and bowed with premature age; a man with a heart to feel and a brain to think; a man who would willingly exchange places with you, though you stand within the shadow of a scaffold; a man, whose heart--O God!--must speak, or it will break; a friend who loves you, who never wronged any one, but has been made the puppet of outrageous fortune; a man who has more wealth than all Virginia, and yet is poorer than the lowest beggar; a man born to misfortune; a child of sorrow and of tears; one who never loved, but to see the object of his affections blighted or stolen; a man to whom dungeons, chains, slavery, death, hell itself would be heaven compared to what he hath endured; such a poor wretch, my friends, is now before you."

He could say no more, but, sinking upon a chair, buried his face in his hands and burst into tears. The three friends gazed at him for several seconds in astonishment; then they looked at each other for some solution to this mystery.

"What meaneth this?" Drummond asked when he regained his voice. "Surely I have heard that voice before. It takes me back, back into the past, many years ago, when we were all young."

Before any one could say a word, Sir Albert started up, laid aside his cocked hat and, brushing back his long snow-white hair from his massive brow, said:

"Drummond, Lawrence, Cheeseman, friends of my youth, look on this face and, in God's name, tell me you recognize one familiar feature left by the hand of misfortune."

The three looked,--started to their feet, and Drummond cried:

"God in heaven! hath the sea given up its dead? It is John Stevens!"

"It is John Stevens, alive and in the flesh," he quickly answered. At first they could hardly believe him, until he briefly told them the story of his shipwreck and wonderful adventures on the island, of the treasures untold thrown into his hands, and finally of a ship, in search of water, putting into his poor harbor. After no little trouble he got his treasure aboard this vessel without the crew suspecting what it was and sailed to Europe. His vast wealth had procured all else--ship, faithful men, the king's favor and all needful to his plans.

"Then I sailed for Virginia to meet sorrow, good friends, and live a living death," he concluded.

"Did you know of her marriage before your arrival?"

"Yes, I was told in London by a Virginian of whom I made some inquiry. I could not believe it at first, for Dorothe always condemned second marriages, and oft, when ailing, predicted that I would wed when she died, and bring a second mother over her children."

Drummond struck his fist upon the table vehemently, answering:

"'Fore God, it is always thus with the howling wenches! That which they most disclaim will they do. She hath not waited until her husband was dead, but hath married--"

"Drummond, hold your peace; she is the mother of my children and was true to me while my wife. Unless you would lose my friendship, speak not against the woman whom I still love," and John Stevens buried his white head in his hands and trembled as if in an ague fit.

"Forgive me, my friend; forgive me; I was hasty," said Drummond. "I have naught to say against the woman who was and still is your wife. Verily, she hath had her punishment,--and the poor children, how they have suffered."

"I know all," John sobbed.

"What will you do?"

"Alas, I know not."

"Why not declare yourself to the world and claim your wife?"

"What! Illegalize the marriage and make an adulteress of my wife? No, never! I pray you, my friends, pledge me on your oaths as gentlemen never to reveal my identity, while she or I shall live."

Drummond, who was impetuous and hated Hugh Price, cried:

"And will you leave her to him?"

"Yes," was the low, meek answer.

"Will you not seek revenge?"

"'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.'"

Drummond was choking with fury and amazement. After a moment he regained control over himself, and gasped:

"Heavens! can God permit such injustice? And you will surrender her to him?"

"They believe themselves lawfully married. She hath committed no crime in the sight of heaven."

"But wherefore not tear her from his arms and fly to some foreign land?"

"Nay, my friend, we have two children, a son and daughter, for whose peace we must have a care. Dare I for their sakes declare who I am?"

Drummond was eager to put a bullet into the brain of Price; but John Stevens was a man of peace and not of blood. His days were few on earth; his race was almost run, and the prime and vigor of his manhood had been wasted on a desert island. His only desire was to hover unknown about those he loved, that they might not want or suffer while he lived, and he had already arranged his fortune so it would descend to Robert and Rebecca when he died.

"Yet I must live unknown, my friends. Swear to keep my secret."

They swore on their honor, and the miserable old man, whose fine apparel was only a disguise, rose and left them. The three friends were sitting looking at each other in speechless amazement, when the door again burst open, and the impetuous Bacon, accompanied by Robert Stevens, entered.

"Why sit you here?" cried the general. "Have you not heard the news?"

"No; what is it?"

"Berkeley hath been reinforced, they say, by troops from England, and is coming upon the town."

Drummond, Cheeseman and Lawrence were on their feet in a moment, their faces evincing alarm. No one doubted the truth of the story, and they began to hurriedly discuss the situation.

"Are we able to defend Jamestown against them?" asked the thoughtful Mr. Lawrence.

"No," answered Bacon.

"Then we must abandon it."

[Illustration: RUINS OF JAMESTOWN]

"They shall not find the town when they come," cried Bacon. "D--n my blood! I will burn Jamestown, and not a stone shall be left standing upon another. Burn it, yes burn it, so that three centuries hence naught but its ashes and ruins will mark where it stands to-day!"

What Bacon ordered in the heat of passion was indorsed by sober reason, and it was resolved to burn the town.

"But your own house, Mr. Drummond, will have to be burned," cried Robert.

"I will fire it with my own hand. It will be the first that burns," answered Drummond. Immediately the news spread that the town had been doomed. The troops were assembled in the streets, and the people summoned to vacate their houses. There were wailings and shrieks that night. Robert ran to his home and told his mother, what was to be done. She came weeping into the street and asked:

"What will become of us, my son? Whither shall we fly? We are three helpless women without a roof to protect us."

"Until this storm hath blown away, let my ship be your home," said a deep, sad voice at her side, and, turning about, she beheld Sir Albert St. Croix, the man who had so strangely impressed her.

"Mother, go, take Ester and sister and go aboard the Despair," cried Robert. Then, turning to the strange old man, he seized his hand and continued, "Kind sir, you look the soul of honor. Will you care for them until this hour has passed?"

Sir Albert's breast heaved a moment like the tumultuous storm; then he answered:

"I will, I swear by the God we all worship!"

Robert hastily gathered up some personal effects and precious family relics, and carried them aboard the ship with his mother, Ester and Rebecca. On his return, he saw a bright flame dart up from the corner of Drummond's house and heard that gentleman say:

"Farewell, dear home! Better perish thus than be a harbor for tyrants."

Drummond had fired his own house. Mr. Lawrence did the same. The street was now filled with weeping and shrieking women and children and piles of household goods. A moment later, and Robert saw the burning flames leaping up about the home of his childhood--the house his father had erected. They leaped and crackled angrily and licked the roof with their hot, thirsty tongues, and he turned away his head. An hour later Jamestown was no more. It has never been rebuilt, and only the ruins of the old church mark the spot where once it stood.

Bacon and his army retreated up the country.