The Allen House (based off a true story)

“In the ruling of funding Nathaniel Bacon, we oppose.”

Arthur Allen the Second felt his stomach flip at hearing those words. He threw a look at Governor William Berkeley, the man writing something down on the parchment before him, before running a hand down the front of his collar to check his kerchief. He knew William’s side on the mater, Arthur believed it was best. They already had enough problems with the Indians. Why make it worst? But Arthur felt many outside this room opposed that idea.

“Are you trying to grow roots?”

Arthur looked up to see Lawrence Baker standing beside him. Arthur gave his father-in-law a polite smile as he rose to his feet, noticing the rest in the room were already mingling as was normal for the end of any meeting. “Too much on my mind, I suppose,” Arthur threw off. “Sorry Sunday we didn’t come over for lunch.”

“I talked to Catherine on the way here, she explained Elizabeth had fallen ill?” Lawrence asked to confirm.

“Something of the lungs,” Arthur offered. “She should be back to her work tomorrow.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Arthur noticed William get to his feet, folding up the piece of paper he had been writing on to place inside his inside coat pocket. Arthur turned his eyes back to his father-in-law and said, “If you’ll excuse me, maybe next Sunday we’ll be able to keep our lunch.”

Lawrence gave the man a nod, dismissing him before he turned to take in who was left in the room.

Arthur made his way over to William, his stomach flipping once more at his inner worry being mirrored on the much older man’s face. He opened his mouth to voice his worry only to be cut off.

“Arthur, good,” William said, reaching back into his pocket to pull the paper back out. He handed it to Arthur and added, “I’d recommend you do this quickly. Return home before you open this. I fear this is all just beginning.”

Arthur took the folded parchment and placed it in his own waist coat pocket, curiosity nagging at him to find out what the older man wished to keep secret. “You think Mr. Bacon will siege war on the Indians?” Arthur asked, voicing some of his concerns.

“That and more, if I understand my wife’s cousin,” William admitted. He let out a sigh in a moments pause before ordering, “Go now, we have a lot to do and, I fear, very little time to do it in.”

Arthur gave the man a nod before turning on his heel to leave the room. Wearing a mask of polite contentment, he left the building and made a beeline for his horse. He gave a polite smile to Nicholas Meriwetter, the old clerk retrieving his horse from the same post as Arthur took the reins of his own. He placed a foot in the stirrup and swung himself up into the saddle, quickly pulling back to order his horse back out of the crowded parking. He made short time of the trip back to his family’s large home. Riding to the front door, his stable boy came running out to greet him. Without acknowledging the young worker, Arthur walked into his home and went straight for his study. Pulling out the letter, he sat at his desk and unfolded the paper only to stare in surprise.

William’s normal composed handwriting was almost lacking, the first he noticed. If Arthur hadn’t seen the man pen this with his own eyes he would have reason to question if it was William’s letter at all. After getting over the shock of William’s penmanship, Arthur finally read the words on the page.

In three days’ time I ask you to join me up to Jamestown. I recommend you to hide away any valuables. Pack up the family and bring them up with you. Send word if you will join me along with a few others who oppose Bacon and his men.

Arthur reread the scribbled note. He knew things had gotten bad up in Jamestown, but he was unsure what good he could do. He knew William had been fighting with Bacon almost the whole year now, Arthur had stood beside the older man in both support as well as physically.

“Ah, Arthur, I didn’t hear you return,” a male voice said from the doorway.

Arthur sat down the letter on his desk and turned to see John Finley, the property overseer and Arthur’s friend, standing just in the room. “John, just the person I needed to see,” Arthur said as he looked the man over. “The family and I are going up to Jamestown for some time. We’ll be leaving Thursday.”

“I’ll have everything ready for your departure,” John said with a nod of his head.

“Good, also I need you to collect all of the silver in this house,” Arthur added.

“Sir?”

“Just a precaution,” Arthur dismissed.

“Very well,” John said, keeping any questions he had unsaid.

“Can you send me Stephen?” Arthur asked as he turned back to his desk. He heard the man’s footsteps leave his study as he reached for a piece of parchment. Laying it down in front of himself, he grabbed both quill and inkwell and dipped the nib of his pen in the dark liquid.

The family and I will accompany yours up to Jamestown on the 13th. I wonder if it might be safer to send the women and children to your friend, the loyal John Curtis the Second, on the Eastern Shore?

“Sir, you sent for me?” Stephen’s voice asked.

Arthur looked over his shoulder to see the eleven year old standing just outside the doorway. “Yes, come in Stephen.” Arthur hastily dipped his quill once more before scribbling down the date and his signature onto the letter before resting the quill in its stand. He held up the parchment, hoping to let the air under it help it dry faster, as he asked, “Do you know where Mr. Berkeley’s staying?”

“Yes sir, he’s at Mr. Bridger’s home,” the boy said with a nod.

“Good.” Arthur gave the letter a quick blow before folding it up. Holding it out to the boy he ordered, “Deliver that to him for me.”

“Yes sir,” Stephen said, smiling as he took the letter.

Arthur watched the boy leave the study before he let his guard down once again. It wasn’t often the Governor of Virginia personally asked you to join him as well as warn you to hide your valuables. Rising to his feet, he fixed his waistcoat as he left the room to look for his wife. Finding her in the back yard, he walked over to the grouping of lawn chairs to find his mother and daughter as well. As he got closer he saw they seemed to be working on their needle point.

“He already wants to start a list of names, starting with his father’s,” Elizabeth said with a laugh.

“What names do you want to add to it?” Catherine asked, smiling at her daughter.

“Well, I’ve always liked the name Martha,” Elizabeth admitted.

“Martha’s a wonderful name,” Alice offered with a nod. Arthur stepped over to stand beside his mother and planted a kiss on her head. “Oh Arthur, you’ve come to join us in talking about your future grandchildren?”

“I’m afraid not,” Arthur offered, stepping over to his wife to deliver a similar kiss to her cheek. “I need to go up to Jamestown for a while. I’m asking if you three can stay with Mr. Curtis.”

“I wouldn’t say no to spending a few days by the beach,” Catharine said, concern on her face. She gave her husband a look as if she wanted to ask him something but kept it to herself.

“Well I won’t be joining you,” Alice informed, resting her back against the chair to get more conferrable.

“Mother?” Arthur asked, worried for the aging woman.

“Think reasonably, Mother,” Catharine offered. “If there’s a reason-“

“I’m sorry Catharine,” Alice interrupted the woman. “I left this house once, I’m not going to do it again.”

Arthur held his tongue momentarily, knowing he wouldn’t be able to change her mind and knew better than to order her to leave. Letting out a silent sigh he said, “Alright.”

“Arthur!” Catharine interjected.

Ignoring his wife Arthur continued, “John will be keeping an eyes on the place so he’ll be with you in case anything happens.”

-.-.-.-

“Just found another copy of Bacon’s ‘Declaration of the People’,” John Finley said as the man walking into what had become command central in Thomas Swann’s home in Jamestown. He threw down a pamphlet in front of his boss and the governor.

“I thought he wasn’t making more of these.” Berkeley picked up the parchment to look it over before tossing it behind himself and into the fireplace. He looked at John and offered, “Thank you for getting this copy off the streets.”

“Did you hear anything while you were in town?” Arthur asked, eyeing the man.

“Mr. Kemp and Mr. Murray both wish to let you know they will no longer be able to contact you by normal means,” John informed with a smile. “Mr. Kemp has been made in charge of one of Bacon’s regiments, tomorrow he will send word of what the next few days plan will be. Mr. Murray couldn’t talk long but he reassures that no one suspects they’re spies.”

“Thank you, Mr. Finley,” Berkeley said, looking down at the map of Jamestown laid out on the dining room table.

“Well done, John,” Arthur offered, placing a strong hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Thank you, sir,” John said with a smile at the praise.

“You should return home now,” Arthur suggested, removing his hand. He looked at the map and added, “If he really does have supporters in the surrounding cities, I’d feel better if you were home with my mother.”

“How is the old bird?” Berkeley asked, overhearing the men’s conversation.

“As feisty as ever,” John admitted with a smile.

“If we have need of you again, we’ll send word,” Berkeley said, holding out his hand to the man. John took the handshake as the older man added, “We wouldn’t be this far along without your help.”

John still felt the warmth of the Governor’s praise as he rode the path home. To think, he was able to do something good for his country against a terrorist such as Bacon. He glanced down the road as he rounded a hill and took in the estate he was in charge of. Peace filled the last remaining part of his body not already glowing as all seemed normal. “Just a little farther, Sally,” John offered to his horse.

“Stop! You’re under arrest!”

John turned to the sound of the voice to see a man a little older than himself galloping on horseback towards him, through the wheat field. John pulled back on the reins, ordering Sally to a stop, and waited until the man was within earshot. Once close enough, John’s stomach dropped as he recognized who it was.

“On what charges, Mr. Rogers?” John asked, inwardly growling at the man slowing to a stop beside him.

“Where were you last night?” Joseph Rogers asked, pulling on his horse’s reins to stop the creature from moving under him.

“Out in the Eastern Shore,” John said, thankful Arthur had asked him to check on Mrs. Allen and Elizabeth before going to Jamestown. “What is this about?”

“You weren’t in Surry or Jamestown?” Joseph asked, eyeing the man.

“No, I told you that,” John said, losing his patience. “Now, if you have nothing to arrest me on, I’d like to get back home.”

“Go on, sorry ’bout that,” Joseph said, pulling his horse back as he gave the man a large smile.

Unnerved but unwilling to show it, John whipped the reins harder than he intended to get Sally moving back towards the Allen House. He kept his eyes forward, listening for Joseph’s hoof steps to take a direction behind him. He gulped down the solid fear that had appeared in his throat, realizing he was coming from the wrong direction to have only been on the Eastern Shores.

“Hey! Stop!” Joseph called out.

John turned to look over his shoulder only to see the man whipping the reins to order his horse after him. “Crap,” John cursed under his breath.

“I’m arresting you for lying to me!” Joseph said, his face red behind his beard. He pulled out a pistol and took aim. “Stop or I’ll shoot.”

John pulled back on the reins to order Sally to a stop once more as Joseph rode up to block his path.

“You were in Jamestown last night!” Joseph said, furious.

“No, only this morning,” John said, surprising himself at how he was handling being under gun point.

“Don’t be smart with me,” Joseph ordered. “Give me your guns.”

“Or you’ll shoot me?” John asked, wondering how he was going to get out of this mess.

“See, you can be smart,” Joseph said, sneering at the man.

John upholstered the pistol he carried on his saddle bag and held it by the barrel to the man.

Joseph swiped it with his free hand, stashing it into his saddle bag, before ordering, “Alright, nice and slowly you’re going to ride back to the castle.”

“You mean Allen House?” John asked.

“Whatever you wanna call it,” Joseph said, flicking the pistol towards the house. “Get going. And if your horse puts one hoof off the path, I’ll shoot.”

John followed the trail he had ridden so many times before as the sound of two horse’s hooves filled the air. Figuring he couldn’t have any worst luck he asked, “So is it a crime now to go to Jamestown?”

“No, but it is to be a spy,” Joseph said. “I’ll send word to Mr. Bacon and inform him I’ve caught the governor’s spy.”

“Wait, you think I’m a spy?”

“We know you are. Now shut up and keep moving.”

John let out a snort, keeping his eyes forward. He watched as the large brick home came into view, also revealing a number of men and horses on the front lawn.

“What’cha have here?” a man younger than John asked as they got closer.

“A spy against Mr. Bacon. Simmons, tie him up and keep an eye on him,” Joseph ordered.

“Yes sir,” the young man said with a smile. He pulled off some rope from his horse and stepped beside John’s horse. “If you know what’s good for ya, you’ll do as we tell you. It’s either that or a bullet in you.”

“The old woman’s blocked all the ways in!” a voice called out as two men appeared around the side of the house.

“It’s just a woman, she can’t have blocked all the windows too!” William Rookings pointed out. “Try them all, get a ladder out of the barn if you have to.”

John was pulled sharply off his horse now that his hands were tied together. Landing on his shoulder, he stifled the scream he wanted to let out as he glared up at Simmons.

“Arthur Long, is that you down there!?”

Everyone in the front lawn looked up to see Alice Allen’s head poking out of the top most window above the doorway.

“Does family mean nothing to you, Arthur Long!?”

“Not when it’s our homes, our families, and our farms at stake!” Arthur Long called up to the woman. “Cousin or not, your son is on the wrong side! Now get out of the house before we’re forced to kick you out!”

“Never!” Alice pulled her head inside and slammed the window shut.

“There’s a window that moves on the east side!” a man called out. “Lee, help me with it.”

John managed to get to his feet only to watch helplessly as the men broke into the house, quickly storming through the front door now that it was open.

William Rookings kicked the front door fully open and pushed the aged woman out of the house. “And with that taken care of, I dub this Bacon’s Castle!”

“You’ll never get away with this!” Alice cried out as she pushed herself up by her hands. She looked over her shoulder as John knelt down beside her. “Head my words, you’ll get hanged for this!”

“Go take your prophecies somewhere else, old woman,” Rookings laughed. “Simmons, put the spy in jail.”

“What’cha want me to do to the wimman?” Simmons asked.

“I don’t care, just get her off of Bacon’s property,” Rookings said before turning around in the doorway. Before he disappeared within, the man added, ”Thank you, Mrs. Allen, for your wonderful hospitality.”

As John and Alice were taken away from the house, they would later find those men had ransacked the place in the few weeks they stayed. Nathaniel Bacon never set foot in the home though the name would stay for generations. John spent almost three months in the Charles City jail before being released and going back to Allen House, as they called the home. Alice returned to the house shortly after it was regained in the Allen name and lived there until 1675 when she passed away. As for Bacon, a little ditty became popular after his death that October.

Bacon is dead, I am sorry at my heart that lice and flux should take the hangman’s part.