Call out the militia of every county! March against the Indians! Act! But the Governor was old, of an ill temper now, and most suspicious of popular gatherings for any purpose whatsoever.

He temporized, delayed, refused all appeals until the Assembly should meet.
Dislike of Berkeley and his ways and a growing sense of injury and oppression began to quiver hard in the Virginian frame.

The King was no longer popular, nor Sir William Berkeley, nor were the most of the Council, nor many of the burgesses of that Long Assembly.

There arose a loud demand for a new election and for changes in public policy.
Where a part of Richmond now stands, there stretched at that time a tract of fields and hills and a clear winding creek, held by a young planter named Nathaniel Bacon, an Englishman of that family which produced "the wisest, greatest, meanest of mankind." The planter himself lived farther down the river.

But he had at this place an overseer and some indentured laborers.