Bacon's Rebellion

From 1676 to 1677, Virginia found itself gripped by an armed uprising among its own settlers. Nathaniel Bacon stood at the head of this revolt, pushing back against Colonial Governor William Berkeley, who had denied his demand to expel Native Americans from the colony. What followed was a broad uprising cutting across social lines: thousands of Virginians, whether free, indentured, or enslaved, and spanning multiple races, took up arms against Berkeley's rule. They drove him out of Jamestown and eventually set the settlement ablaze. It took a handful of armed merchant vessels sailing from London, their captains throwing their support behind Berkeley and his loyal followers, to first bring the revolt under control.

Not long afterward, government troops under Herbert Jeffreys landed in Virginia. Over the following years they worked to stamp out remaining pockets of resistance while restructuring colonial governance so that it fell once again under direct royal authority. Although the uprising failed to achieve its original purpose of pushing Native Americans out of the colony, it did lead to Berkeley's recall to England, where death claimed him not long after his return.

This episode stands as the earliest instance among the North American colonies of frontiersmen joining a rebellion born of their grievances. A comparable disturbance would later erupt in Maryland in 1689, this one involving John Coode and Josias Fendall. What troubled Virginia's ruling class most, however, was the cooperation forged between European indentured servants and Africans, whose ranks included indentured people, enslaved people, and Free Negroes alike. In response, colonial leaders moved to entrench racial divisions within the system of slavery itself, hoping to prevent any future alliance of this kind between the two groups. This effort culminated in the enactment of the Virginia Slave Codes of 1705.

Rebellion

In the summer of 1675, Doeg raiders struck settlements in Stafford County, Virginia, leaving two colonists dead and stripping the land of corn and cattle. Local militiamen ran the attackers down and cornered them in a cabin, where ten Doeg died. At roughly the same time, a separate militia force under Colonel Mason and Captain George Brent struck a nearby dwelling belonging to the Susquehannock, a tribe considered friendly, and fourteen of its occupants were slain. The killing stopped only when one of the Susquehannock managed to flee the scene, reach Mason, and insist that his people had nothing to do with the Doeg. Weeks later, on August 31, Virginia's governor, William Berkeley, publicly declared that the Susquehannock had in fact taken part in the original Stafford County raid alongside the Doeg.

By September 26, a force of one thousand Maryland militiamen under Major Thomas Trueman had marched to a Susquehannock stronghold within Maryland's borders. Virginia militia commanded by Col. John Washington and Col. Isaac Allerton Jr. soon arrived to reinforce them. Trueman arranged talks with five Susquehannock chiefs, but although the chiefs denied any hand in the July violence, witnesses claimed to have seen Susquehannock people wearing garments taken from murdered colonists. The chiefs were put to death without any trial, a betrayal of the terms of the meeting itself, even though one leader produced a medal from Lord Baltimore and a written pledge from a past Maryland governor. Despite the mysterious loss of their leadership, the Susquehannock still inside the fort kept fighting, and a good number eventually slipped away with their families. Maryland officials responded by impeaching Trueman, and word of the killings left Berkeley outraged.

The following January, in 1676, the Susquehannock struck back, hitting plantations and killing sixty settlers in Maryland along with another thirty-six across the border in Virginia. Additional tribes joined the fighting, torching homes and crops and driving off livestock across a swath of territory reaching south to the James and York river basins.

Following fresh raids in Virginia that February, Berkeley first ordered the militia, under Sir Henry Chicheley and Col. Goodrich, out after the raiders, then abruptly called the expedition back in favor of a defensive strategy instead. The House of Burgesses backed this approach, authorizing eight forts along the frontier staffed by five hundred men, allowing friendly natives to enlist, and banning the sale of guns to what the law termed "savages." Because no militia deaths turned up in April or May, Berkeley called the strategy a triumph. Bacon and his supporters saw things differently, complaining that the garrisoned men could not chase raiders without the governor's explic

Aftermath

The victory over the rebels came at a steep price for the colony, which found itself in dire straits. Numerous plantations sat abandoned or had been stripped bare. Money was scarce in the government's coffers, and because so much labor had vanished, both the tobacco and grain harvests fell short. Still, by the close of the year, vessels carrying tobacco started arriving loaded with clothing, cloth, medicine, and other necessities.

The killings did not stop quickly. Berkeley admitted to putting thirteen rebels to death. From his base on the Eastern Shore, he condemned a number of men and saw five of them executed. Hansford begged to die by firing squad as a soldier rather than hang like a dog, insisting on his loyalty even as he stood on the gallows. Major Cheeseman perished behind bars, even though his wife had offered to take his place on the noose. Farloe showed his military commission in his defense, only to be told it covered fighting against Natives alone, not against the Governor, so he too was hanged, joining Carver, Wilford, and John Johnson in death.

Berkeley, then seventy-one years old, made his way back to the scorched capital and his ransacked Green Spring estate at the close of January in 1677. His wife described the ruined property in a letter to her cousin, likening it to something children knock down during Shrovetide, saying it needed almost as much work as building anew, with not a trace remaining of any fence that once stood around it.

On January 12, 1677, four men went to the gallows: Thomas Young, James Wilson (whom Berkeley called "Harris"), Henry Page, and Thomas Hall. Eight days later, William Drummond and John Baptista faced trial at Middle Plantation, close to Green Spring, and were hanged on the twentieth; Berkeley's own list never mentioned Baptista. James Crewes, William Cookson, and John Digbie, listed by Berkeley as "Darby" and identified as a former servant, stood trial at Jamestown and were hanged on January 24.

Though ordered back to England, Berkeley put off leaving for months, using the time to oversee further trials, seemingly ignoring calls for mercy from the crown's own representatives. Once Bacon died, his wealthy, land-owning supporters swung their allegiance back to the Virginia government. Lower-class rebels often had to issue public apologies, and many faced fines or had to cover court expenses. The old, childless Governor's habit of confiscating property from some, though not all, rebels stirred up considerable anger and unease. Unlike the earliest proceedings, where defendants frequently had no legal representation, later trials sometimes included counsel. Berkeley grew especially irritated with his former King's Counsel, William Sherwood, for taking on the defense of ex-rebels. Giles Bland, once a customs collector, and Anthony Arnold went to the gallows on March 8; John Isles and Richard Pomfrey followed on March 15, then John Whitson and William Scarburgh on March 16. Historians disagree on the total death toll, though most figures run roughly double what Berkeley himself acknowledged. One count puts the number at twenty-five executions, while another scholar says twenty-three men died by hanging.

Eventually a committee investigating the affair sent its findings to King Charles II, leading to Berkeley's removal from office and his recall to England. As one historian put it, since the tobacco trade brought the crown between five and ten pounds per working man, Charles II had no wish for rebellion to interrupt the colonists' cultivation of the crop. The king was said to have remarked that the old fool had killed more people in that bare land than he himself had done in England over his father's murder. No actual record of this comment exists, and the tale seems to have originated as colonial legend at least three decades after the events took place. Charles took pride in the mercy he had extended toward those who had