BY SALLY NELSON ROBINS. In the age when America was but a name and Virginia only a hamlet, there was a dusky queen who wore a silver crown by order of his most sacred Majesty King Charles II., King of England, Scotland, France, Ireland, and Virginia. There are few distinct Indian personalities. Powhatan, Pocahontas, Opechancanough, Totopotomoi and his wife the Queen of the Pamunkeys, are savage heroes which sentinel the seventeenth century; they all belonged to the Pamunkey tribe of the Great Powhatan Confederacy, the most powerful Indian combination that ever existed. When the boisterous and heroic Nathaniel Bacon was in the flush of his wonderful success, and had brought his followers to Jamestown, he demanded of the Governor redress for Indian depredations and outrages. When the assembly in council was sitting, the Queen of the Pamunkeys came in, leading her son by the hand. She came to tell of grievances also. She wore a dress of black and white wampum peake and a mantle of deer-skin, "cut in a frenge" six inches from the outer edge. It fell loosely from her shoulders to her feet. On her head was a crown of "purple bead of shell, drilled." She was a beautiful woman, old chronicles tell us, and she walked in with a proud but aggrieved countenance. She sat down in the midst of the assembly, listening eagerly to the arguments for the suppression and, if need be, the extinction of her race. And she remembered Totopotomoi bleeding for these people who would not recognize her rights. She arose and made a speech in her own tongue, eloquent with gesticulation; the refrain of it was a mad wail: "Totopotomoi chepiak! Totopotomoi chepiak!" (_i.e._, Totopotomoi dead). Colonel Hill the younger, touched a fellow-member on the shoulder, and whispered: "What she says is true. Totopotomoi fought with my father, and fell with his warriors." But the assembly would not listen to the poor suffering Queen. They wanted more men to fight more battles, and the Queen of the Pamunkeys must furnish her quota. "How many men will you furnish?" asked Nathaniel Bacon. "How many will you give to fight and subdue the treacherous tribes which threaten our peace?" The Queen was silent. She remembered her husband and his slain braves. She had fears for her son, and she would not speak. "How many?" asked Bacon again. The poor Queen had her head turned away, and bowed. "How many?" demanded the famous rebel again. Then she slowly turned her lovely face, and softly whispered, "Six." Her answer infuriated Bacon, who considered the number contemptible. "How many more?" again he asked. The Queen gave him a glance of indignant hate, and haughtily answered, "Twelve." Then she gathered her robes about her, and majestically left the room. Once again do we see the Queen of the Pamunkeys, and now in fear and adversity. Bacon in his mad career destroyed the Pamunkey settlement--the same tribe which had so nobly assisted the English.