George Bancroft, History of the United States from the Discovery of the American Continent, Vol. 2, 17th edition.

[227] Jamestown. The trumpet sounds defiance; and,

Chap. XIV.} 1676

under the mild light of a September moon, a rude intrenchment is thrown up. Civil war was begun. Night, the season, nature, freedom, all, demanded peace. If the New World could not create friendship among the outcasts from Europe, were not the woods wide enough to hide men from each other's anger?

Victory did not hesitate. The followers of Berkeley were too cowardly to succeed in a sally;¹ and to secure plunder they made grounds to desert.² No considerable service was done, except by the seamen. What availed the passionate fury and desperate courage of a brave and irascible old man? The royalists deserted the town, and escaped in their fleet by night.

On the morning after the retreat, Bacon entered the little capital of Virginia. There lay the ashes of Gosnold; there the gallant Smith had told the tale of his adventures of romance; there English wives had been offered for sale to eager colonists; there Pocahontas had sported in the simplicity of innocence. For nearly seventy years, it had been the abode of Anglo-Saxons. But could Bacon retain possession of the town? And should he abandon it as a strong-hold for the enemies of his country? The rumor prevailed that a party of royalists from the northern counties was drawing near. In a council of war, it was resolved to burn Jamestown, the only town in Virginia, that no shelter³ might remain for an enemy. Should troops arrive from England, every man was ordered to retire into the wilderness.⁴ Tyrants would hardly chase the