Sir William Berkeley and his council were holding a council of war, when the roll of drums and blast of trumpets announced that Bacon was in possession of the city.
The house of burgesses was called to order, though little order was preserved on that day, when a collision between law and rebellion seemed inevitable.

Between two files of infantry Bacon advanced to the corner of the statehouse, and the governor came out.

Bacon, who had perfect control over himself, advanced toward him.

Berkeley was in a rage.
Walking straight toward Bacon, he tore open the lace at his bosom and cried: "Here! Shoot me! 'Fore God, a fair mark!" Bacon curbed his rising anger and replied: "No, may it please your honor, we will not hurt a hair of your head, nor of any other man's.

We are come for a commission to save our lives from the Indians, which you have so often promised, and now we will have it before we go." Without a word in response, the governor and council wheeled about and returned to their chamber, and Bacon followed them, his left arm akimbo, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.