THE SOLDIER'S DREAM Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'd, When reposing that night on my pallet of straw And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again. Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung. Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore And my wife sobb'd aloud in her fullness of heart. "Stay-stay with us!-rest!-thou art weary and worn!" WHITE APRONS * Charles II was no sooner on his throne than he began to rule Virginia with a heavy hand. In the first place, he appointed as governor of the colony Sir William Berkeley, a man who was a tyrant by nature, and who was already heartily disliked by a great many of the colonists. In the second place, the king undertook to enforce certain navigation laws which had been passed during Cromwell's time and during the reign of Charles II. These laws compelled the colonists to ship goods only in English vessels, to sell goods only to English merchants, and to buy goods only from English merchants. Under these laws the Virginia planters were compelled to sell their tobacco at whatever price the English merchants chose to give them, and they were compelled to pay for goods brought into the colony whatever price the English merchants might ask. The discontent caused by the harsh navigation laws was increased by Berkeley's conduct in respect to the Indians. One night in January, 1676, savages crept softly into the new settlements and murdered about forty persons. Berkeley refused to send a force against the Indians and allowed the outrage to go unpunished. He was carrying on a profitable fur trade with the Indians, and he did not want his private business disturbed. His do-nothing policy made the people very angry, and they declared that if the governor would not defend them they would defend themselves. The people found a leader in Nathaniel Bacon, a rich young man of noble birth. In defiance of the governor, Bacon raised a body of fighting men, marched against the Indians, and punished them severely. This brought on a quarrel which ended in Bacon's marching on Jamestown and burning it to the ground. Berkeley was driven from the colony. Young Bacon was now the mas ter of Virginia, but just as he was at the height of his power he fell sick of fever and died. When Bacon died, the rebellion fell to pieces and the rebels dispersed to their homes. Berkeley returned to Virginia and wreaked a terrible vengeance upon the followers of Bacon. Twenty-three persons were put to death. "The old fool," said Charles II, "has taken away more lives in that naked country than I did here for the death of my father." The king, in disgust, deprived Berkeley of his office. When the old tyrant took his departure for England (1677), guns were fired, bonfires were kindled, and people shouted until their throats were sore. So Bacon's Rebellion accomplished at least two goods things: it caused the Indians to behave themselves, and it enabled Virginia to get rid of a very bad governor.-From Forman's "History of the United States." Time: 1676; Bacon's Rebellion, Virginia. Costumes: Time of Charles II. * A dramatization of Maud Wilder Goodwin's "White Aprons." By permission of Little, Brown & Co., Publishers. CHARACTERS COLONEL PAYNE, with Governor Berkeley's party MADAM PAYNE, his wife PENELOPE PAYNE, his daughter NATHANIEL BACON MAJOR FAIRFAX, with Bacon's party GOVERNOR BERKELEY, Governor of Virginia LADY BERKELEY, his wife KING CHARLES II of England Courtiers, Ladies, etc. Men followers of Bacon and of Berkeley FIRST SCENE [Home of MADAM PAYNE. PENELOPE seated at PENELOPE. Ah, I have found it. Beshrew me if I do not learn it against my father's home-coming, for he doth much affect it. [Commences to sing softly.] Over the mountains and over the waves, Under the fountains and under the graves, Under floods that are deepest which Neptune obey, [PENELOPE jumps up, and Some one waits at the steps and opens door. Over rocks that are steepest, Love will find out the way. [A loud knocking at the door.] calls.] Pomp, where are you? door. [Waits a moment, then MAJOR FAIRFAX, wearing the green cockade—a badge worn by all of BACON's men-is waiting outside.] MAJOR FAIRFAX. [Making so deep a bow that the plumes on his hat sweep the floor.] I crave your pardon for the abruptness of my summons, but may I ask if Mistress Payne be at home? PENELOPE. [Looking scornfully at the green cockade.] I trust I impeach not the hospitality of our house when I make answer that my mother is never at home to rebels. MAJOR FAIRFAX. I grieve the more over your inhospitable mood that I find myself compelled to intrude without your permission, since I am ordered by General Bacon to find Mistress Payne and bring her with all despatch to his camp at Green Spring, where she will find Madam Ballard and other neighbors awaiting her arrival. PENELOPE. [With lip curled.] "T is like your brave general to wage war against women. Knowing that my father was gone to join Governor Berkeley at Jamestown, he felt sure of finding us defenseless. Methinks, under the circumstances, one gallant officer might have sufficed to do his errand; but I see you have brought four men with you, to be your guard against two women. [FAIRFAX makes a quick motion as if to answer.] I pray you of your courtesy to make known to us for what purpose our presence is desired by General Bacon. Has he sent for us to teach him manners, the which, if what is said of him be true, he has great need to learn? FAIRFAX. I fear I must consent to share that lack of courtesy you do impute to him when I reply that it was not your presence, but that of your mother, which I am ordered to secure, and that I am commanded to give no whys or wherefores. MISTRESS PAYNE. [Entering.] How now, Penelope! [Holding out her hand to FAIRFAX.] Who is this you keep standing without? Was ever guest permitted to tarry on the porch of Rosemary Hall, unwelcomed to all within? PENELOPE. This is no guest, Mother, but an enemy, come in the name of Nathaniel Bacon to take us prisoners, and bring us to his general. FAIRFAX. Nay, not you. PENELOPE. I go with my mother. FAIRFAX. [Shrugging his shoulders.] So be it. Such be not my orders, but I will not say you "nay"; only I pray you make haste, for we must be at Green Spring ere nightfall. MISTRESS PAYNE. [In dignified manner.] Penelope, let us not wonder that this rebel general, who respects no lawful authority, should respect no more the claims of womanhood. Let us go, since go we must, with a courage which will not put your father's name to shame. Prithee, sir, lead on; we await your commands. FAIRFAX. I do assure you, Madame Payne, it grieves me more to command than it does you to obey. I can readily grant you time for the donning of cloak and hood and safeguard. PENELOPE. Not so, since we ride not of our free will, we shall make no preparations. You must needs take us as we are. MISTRESS PAYNE. Come, then, my daughter. Let us tarry no longer, for the day is far spent, and we must not put this gentleman to inconvenience. |