therefore, entitled to a seat at the
council which was to try the life of his rival. But as his evidence was
of an important character, and as he had been concerned directly in the
arrest of the prisoner, he preferred to act in the capacity of a
witness, rather than as a judge.

"Let the prisoner be brought before the court," said Berkeley; and in a
few moments, Hansford, with his hands manacled, was led, between a file
of soldiers, to the seat prepared for him. His short confinement had
made but little change in his appearance. His face, indeed, was paler
than usual, and his eye was brighter, for the exciting and solemn scene
through which he was about to pass. But prejudged, though he was, his
firmness never forsook him, and he met with a calm, but respectful gaze,
the many eyes which were bent upon him. Conspicuous among the rebels,
and popular and beloved in the colony, his trial had attracted a crowd
of spectators; some impelled by vulgar curiosity, some by their loyal
desire to witness the trial of a rebel to his king, but not a few by
sympathy for his early and already well known fate.

As might well be expected, there was but little difficulty in
establishing his participation in the late rebellion. There were many of
the witnesses, who had seen him in intimate association with Bacon, and
several who recognized him as among the most active in the trenches at
Jamestown. To crown all, the irresistible evidence was introduced by
Bernard, that the prisoner had actually brought a threatening message to
the governor, while at Windsor Hall, which had induced the first flight
to Accomac. It was useless to resist the force of such accumulated
testimony, and Hansford saw that his fate was settled. It were folly to
contend before such a tribunal, that his acts did not constitute
rebellion, or that the court before whom he was arraigned was
unconstitutional. The devoted victim of their vengeance, therefore,
awaited in silence the conclusion of this solemn farce, which they had
dignified by the name of a trial.

The evidence concluded, Sir William Berkeley, as Lord President of the
Court, collected the suffrages of its members. It might easily be
anticipated by their gloomy countenances, what was the solemn import of
their judgment. Thomas Ludwell, the secretary of the council, acted as
the clerk, and in a voice betraying much emotion, read the fatal
decision. The sympathizing bystanders, who in awful silence awaited the