"What would you have with me, madam?"
"What are you frightened at, girl," said the woman in a shrill, coa.r.s.e voice, "don"t you see that I am a woman?"
"Yes, ma"am," said Virginia, trembling, "I am not frightened, ma"am."
"You are frightened-I see you are," returned her strange guest.-"But if you fear, you are not worthy to be the wife of a brave man-come, deny nothing-I can read you like a book-and easier, for it is but little that I know from books, except my Bible."
"Are you a gipsey, ma"am?" said Virginia, softly, for she had heard her father speak of that singular race of vagrants, and the person and language of the stranger corresponded with the idea which she had formed of them.
"A gipsey! no, I am a Virginian-and a brave man"s wife, as you would be-but that prejudice and fear keep you still in Egyptian bondage. The time has come for woman to act her part in the world-and for you, Virginia Temple, to act yours."
"But what would you have me to do?" asked Virginia, surprised at the knowledge which the stranger seemed to possess of her history.
"Do!" shrieked the woman, "your duty-that which every human creature, man or woman, is bound before high heaven to do. Aid in the great work which G.o.d this day calls upon his Israel to do-to redeem his people from captivity and from the hand of those who smite us."
"My good woman," said Virginia, who now began to understand the character of the strange intruder, "it is not for me, may I add, it is not for our s.e.x to mingle in contests like the present. We can but humbly pray that He who controls the affairs of this world, may direct in virtue and in wisdom, the hearts of both rulers and people."
"And why should we only pray," said the woman sternly, "when did Heaven ever answer prayer, except when our own actions carried the prayer into effect. Have you not learned, have you not known, hath it not been told you from the foundation of the world, that faith without works was dead."
"But there is no part which a woman can consistently take in such a contest as the present, even should she so far forget her true duties as to wish to engage in it."
"Girl, have you read your bible, or are you one of those children of the scarlet woman of Babylon, to whom the word of G.o.d is a closed book-to whom the waters from the fountain of truth can only come through the polluted lips of priests-as unclean birds feed their offspring. Do you not know that it was a woman, even Rahab, who saved the spies sent out from s.h.i.ttem to view the land of promise? Do you not know that Miriam joined with the hosts of Israel in the triumph of their deliverance from the hand of Pharaoh? Do you not know that Deborah, the wife of Lapidoth, judged Israel, and delivered Jacob from the hands of Jabin, king of Canaan, and Sisera the captain of his host-and did not Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite, rescue Israel from the hands of Sisera? Surely she fastened the nail in a sure place, and the wife of Sisera, tarried long ere his chariot should come-and shall we in these latter days of Israel be less bold than they? Tell me not of prayers, Virginia Temple, cowards alone pray blindly for a.s.sistance. It is the will of G.o.d that the brave should be often under Heaven, the answerers of their own prayers."
"And pray tell me," said Virginia, struck with the wild, biblical eloquence of the Puritan woman, "why you have thus come to me among so many of the damsels of Virginia, to urge me to engage in this enterprise."
"Because I was sent. Because one of the captains of our host has sought the hand of Virginia Temple. Ah, blush, maiden, for the blush of shame well becomes one who has deserted her lover, because he has laid aside every weight, and pressed forward to the prize of his high calling. Yet a little while, and the brave men of Virginia will be here to show the malignant Berkeley, that the servant is not greater than his lord-that they who reared up this temple of his authority, can rase it to the ground and bury him in its ruins. I come from Thomas Hansford, to ask that you will under my guidance meet him where I shall appoint to-night."
"This is most strange conduct on his part," said Virginia, flushing with indignation, "nor will I believe him guilty of it. Why did he entrust a message like this to you instead of writing?"
"A warrior writes with his sword and in blood," replied the woman.
"Think you that they who wander in the wilderness, are provided with pen or ink to write soft words of love to silly maidens? But he foresaw that you would refuse, and he gave me a token-I fear a couplet from a carnal song."
"What is it?" cried Virginia, anxiously.
""I had not loved thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more,""
said the woman, in a low voice. "Thus the words run in my memory."
"And it is indeed a true token," said Virginia, "but once for all, I cannot consent to this singular request."
"Decide not in haste, lest you repent at leisure," returned the woman, "I will come to-night at ten o"clock to receive your final answer. And regret not, Virginia Temple, that your fate is thus linked with a brave man. The babe unborn will yet bless the rising in this country-and children shall rise up and call us blest.[36] And, oh! as you would prove worthy of him who loves you, abide not thou like Reuben among the sheep-folds to hear the bleating of the flocks, and you will yet live to rejoice that you have turned a willing ear to the words and the counsel of Sarah Drummond."
There was a pause of some moments, during which Virginia was wrapt in her own reflections concerning the singular message of Hansford, rendered even more singular by the character and appearance of the messenger. Suddenly she was startled from her reverie by the blast of a trumpet, and the distant trampling of horses" hoofs. Sarah Drummond also started at the sound, but not from the same cause, for she heard in that sound the blast of defiance-the trumpet of freedom, as its champions advanced to the charge.
"They come, they come," she said, in her wild, shrill voice; "my Lord, my Lord, the chariots of Israel and the hors.e.m.e.n thereof-I go, like Miriam of old, to prophecy in their cause, and to swell their triumph.
Farewell. Remember, at ten o"clock to-night I return for your final answer."
With these words she burst from the room, and Virginia soon seen her tall form, with hasty strides, moving toward the place from which the sound proceeded.
FOOTNOTES:
[36] This was her very language during the rebellion.
CHAPTER XXI.
"Men, high minded men, With powers as far above dull brutes endued, In forest, brake or den, As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude; Men, who their duties know, But know their rights, and knowing dare maintain, These const.i.tute a state."
_Sir William Jones._
And nearer, and nearer, came the sound, and the cloud of dust which already rose in the street, announced their near approach. And then, Virginia saw emerging from that cloud a proud figure, mounted on a splendid grey charger, which pranced and champed his bit, as though proud of the n.o.ble burden which he bore. And well he might be proud, for that young gallant rider was Nathaniel Bacon, a man who has left his name upon his country"s history, despite the efforts to defame him, as the very embodiment of the spirit of freedom. And he looked every inch a hero, as with kingly mien and gallant bearing he rode through that crowded street, the great centre of attraction to all.
Beside him and around him were those, his friends and his companions, who had sworn to share his success, or to perish in the attempt.
There was the burley Richard Lawrence, not yet bent under the weight of his growing years. There was Carver, the bold, intrepid and faithful Carver, whose fidelity yet lives historically in his rough, home-brewed answer to the Governor, that "if he served the devil he would be true to his trust." There too was the young and graceful form of one whose name has been honoured by history, and cherished by his descendants-whose rising glory has indeed been eclipsed by others of his name more successful, but not more worthy of success-nor can that long, pure cavalier lineage boast a n.o.bler ancestor than the high-souled, chivalrous, and devoted Giles Bland. There too were Ingram, and Walklate, and Wilford, and Farloe, and Cheesman, and a host of others, whom time would fail us to mention, and yet, each one of whom, a pioneer in freedom"s cause, deserves to be freshly remembered. And there too, and the heart of Virginia Temple beat loud and quick as she beheld him, was the gallant Hansford, whom she loved so well; and as she gazed upon his n.o.ble figure, now foremost in rebellion, the old love came back gushing into her heart, and she half forgave his grievous sin, and loved him as before.
These all pa.s.sed on, and the well-regulated band of four hundred foot-soldiers, all armed and disciplined for action, followed on, ready and anxious to obey their n.o.ble leader, even unto death. Among these were many, who, through their lives had been known as loyalists, who upheld the councils of the colony in their long resistance to the usurpation of the Protector, and who hailed the restoration of their king as a personal triumph to each and all. There too were those who had admired Cromwell, and sustained his government, and some few grey-headed veterans who even remembered to have fought under the banner of John Hampden-Cavaliers and Roundheads, Episcopalians and Dissenters; old men, who had heretofore pa.s.sed through life regardless of the forms of government under which they lived; and young men, whose ardent hearts burned high with the spirit of liberty-all these discordant elements had been united in the alembic of freedom, and hand-in-hand, and heart-in-heart, were preparing for the struggle. And Virginia Temple thought, as she gazed from the window upon their manly forms, that after all, rebellion was not confined to the ign.o.ble and the base.
On, on, still on, and now they have reached the gate which is the grand entrance to the state-house square. The crowd of eager citizens throng after them, and with the fickle sympathy of the mob unite in loud shouts of "Long live Bacon, the Champion of Freedom." And now they are drawn up in bristling column before the hall of the a.s.sembly, while the windows are crowded thick with the pale, anxious faces of the astounded burgesses. But see! the leaders dismount, and their horses are given in charge to certain of the soldiers. Conspicuous among them all is Nathaniel Bacon, from his proud and imperial bearing as he walks with impatient steps up and down the line, and reads their resolution in the faces of the men.
"What will he do!" is whispered from the white and agitated lips of the trembling burgesses.
"This comes of the faithless conduct of Berkeley," says one.
"Yes; I always said that Bacon should have his commission," says another.
"It is downright murder to deny him the right to save the colony from the savages," says a third.
"And we must suffer for the offences of a despotic old dotard," said the first speaker.
"Say you so, masters," cried out old Presley, wedging his huge form between two of his brethren at the window-and all his loyalty of the preceding night having oozed out at his fingers" ends, like Bob Acres"
courage, at the first approach of danger-"say you so; then, by G.o.d, it is my advice to let him put out the fire of his own raising."
But see there! Bacon and his staff are conferring together. It will soon be known what is his determination. It is already read in his fierce and angry countenance as he draws his sword half way from its scabbard, and frowns upon the milder councils of Hansford and Bland. Presently a servant of one of the members comes in with pale, affrighted looks, and whispers to his master. He has overheard the words of Bacon, which attended that ominous gesture.
"I will bear a little while. But when you see my sword drawn from my scabbard, thus, let that be the signal for attack. Then strike for freedom, for truth, and for justice."
The burgesses look in wild alarm at each other. What is to be done? It were vain to resist. They are unarmed. The rebels more than quadruple Governor, Council, and a.s.sembly. Let those suffer who have incurred the wrath of freemen. Let the lightning fall upon him who has called it down. For ourselves, let us make peace.
In a moment a white handkerchief suspended on the usher"s rod streams from the window, an emblem of peace, an advocate for mercy, and with one accordant shout, which rings through the halls of the state-house, the burgesses declare that he shall have his commission.
Bacon sees the emblem. He hears the shout. His dark eye flashes with delight as he hails this bloodless victory over the most formidable department of the government. The executive dare not hold out against the will of the a.s.sembly. But the victory is not yet consummated.
Suddenly from the lips of the excited soldiery comes a wild cry, and following the direction of their eyes, he sees Sir William Berkeley standing at the open window of the Council Chamber. Yes, there stands the proud old man, with form erect and n.o.ble-his face somewhat paler, and his eagle eye somewhat brighter than usual. But these are the only signs he gives of emotion, as he looks down upon that hostile crowd, with a smile of bitter scorn encircling his lip. He quails not, he blenches not, before that angry foe. His pulse beats calmly and regularly, for it is under the control of the brave great heart, which knows no fear. And there he stands, all calm and silent, like a firm-set rock that defies in its iron strength the fury of the storm that beats against it.
Yet Berkeley is in danger. He is the object, the sole object, of the bitter hate of that incensed and indignant soldiery. He has pledged and he has broken his word to them, and when did broken faith ever fail to arouse the indignation of Virginians? He has denied them the right to protect, by organized force, their homes and their firesides from the midnight attacks of ruthless savages. He has advised the pa.s.sage of laws restricting their commerce, and reducing the value of their staples. He has urged the erection of forts throughout the colony, armed with a regular soldiery, supported in their idleness by the industry of Virginians, and whose sole object is to check the kindling flame of liberty among the people. He has sanctioned and encouraged the exercise of power by Parliament to tax an unrepresented colony. He has advised and upheld His Majesty in depriving the original patentees of immense tracts of land, and lavishing them as princely donations upon fawning favourites. He has refused to represent to the king the many grievances of the colony, and to urge their redress, and, although thus showing himself to be a tyrant over a free people, he has dared to urge, through his servile commissioners, his appointment as Governor for life.