CHAPTER III

WE PREFER ANOTHER GOVERNOR

The people of Jamestown in the years from 1626 to 1640, when they saw a

vessel coming up the river, must have crowded around the landing place

to ask sailors and passengers for the latest news from England. Was King

Charles still raising funds with which to run the government by means of

forced loans? Was he still billeting his soldiers on the people? Was

martial law in force? They must have been thrilled to hear of the

Petition of Rights in which the House of Commons protested against

Charles' arbitrary rule.

When the Burgesses came to town for a session of the Assembly, the

struggle between King and Parliament must have been the chief topic of

conversation around the table in each crude little tavern. Now it was

the jailing of nine members of the House of Commons; now the granting of

monopolies; now the collecting of ship money; now the suppression of

free speech; now the proceedings of the Star Chamber; now the efforts of

Archbishop Laud to enforce religious conformity.

The Virginians were fully aware that these events affected them

profoundly. They had just won a degree of self-government. If the King

succeeded in his efforts to make himself absolute in England, all their

gains might be lost. Might he not overthrow their Assembly? If he could

imprison men arbitrarily in England, he would not hesitate to do so in

Virginia. If he could tax the people of England under the thin veil of

loans, or the revival of ancient laws, would he hesitate to tax the

colonists without their own consent? Might he not place over them

another Dale or Argall to hang men or break them on the wheel?

So when Sir George Yeardley, their liberal Governor, died in November,

1627, they were filled with grief. They remembered that it was he who

had brought over the Virginia Magna Carta, and had called the first

Assembly. We have lost "a main pillar of this our building and thereby a

support to the whole body," wrote the Council.[1]

Their concern must have been all the greater because Yeardley's

commission of March 14, 1626, named John Harvey as his successor. The

Virginians knew this man well. He had been one of the King's

commissioners who came to the colony in 1624 to draw up a report on

conditions there to be used in overthrowing the charter of the Company.

Just why it was thought that he was the right man to act as Governor is

not apparent, for he was a mariner by vocation and had served as captain

of a ship which went to the East Indies in 1617. In November, 1625, we

find him in command of a ship in the expedition against Cadiz. He may

have owed his appointment as Governor to Viscount Dorchester, the

Secretary of State, whom he thanked for his "wonted nobleness" to him.

But Virginia was to have a breathing space before Harvey's arrival.

Yeardley's commission had specified that in the absence of Harvey the

Council should elect one of their number to act in his place. They chose

Captain Francis West, brother of Lord De la Warr.[2] West was a seasoned

Virginian, for he had come to the colony in 1608 with Captain Newport.

He had been commander of Jamestown many years, and a member of the

Council since 1619. It was during his brief administration that the

first legal Assembly since the dissolution of the London Company was

called together, the Assembly which rejected the King's proposal for a

tobacco contract.

In March, 1629, West was appointed agent for the colony and sent to

England. To serve as Governor until his return or the arrival of Harvey,

the Council chose Dr. John Pott. This man had been in Virginia since

1621, when he came over as "Physician to the Company" and member of the

Council. He was described as "a Master of Arts ... well practiced in

chirurgery and physic, and expert in distilling of waters, besides many

other ingenious devices."[3] He seems to have consumed a goodly quantity

of "distilled waters" himself, for he was fond of his cups and jovial

company. George Sandys wrote of him that "he kept company too much with

his inferiors, who hung upon him while his good liquor lasted."[4]

The most notable of Pott's "ingenious devices" was the poisoning of a

large number of Indians after the massacre of 1622. In justification of

this act, his friends explained that the barbarous and perfidious

savages knew nothing about the rules of war, so it was fair play to

resort to anything that tended to their ruin. But this did not save Pott

from criticism in England. The Earl of Warwick was so shocked that at

his request Pott was left out of the Council because "he was the

poisoner of the savages there." But he seems to have been forgiven, for

in 1626 we find him once more in his seat.

It was during Pott's administration that Lord Baltimore visited

Virginia. In 1623 he had received a grant of land in Newfoundland, and

had planted a colony of English Catholics there. But when four years

later he visited the place, he found "the air so intolerable cold as it

is hardly to be endured." He wrote King Charles that he had decided to

move with some forty persons to Virginia, and petitioned for "a precinct

of land there."

On October 1, 1629, he, with his wife and children, arrived at

Jamestown. Here he met with a cool reception. A certain Thomas Tindall

got into an altercation with him, called him a liar, and threatened to

knock him down. The Virginians did not want in their midst a group of

Catholics who were trying to lop off one of the most fertile parts of

their territory. So to get rid of them the Governor and Council tendered

my Lord the oath of supremacy, knowing that as a Catholic he could not

take it, for to do so was to acknowledge the King as the supreme

authority in ecclesiastical matters. When he refused they asked him to

leave. This he did, but since he left his family in Virginia, it was

obvious that he intended to return. So William Claiborne was sent after

him as agent for the colony to oppose his designs.

To add to the troubles of the people, in the early spring of 1630 Harvey

arrived and took his seat as Governor. He had lingered in England to

make sure that the office would yield a good return. Only after the King

had promised him the fines imposed by any of the courts did he set sail.

His voyage was far from being pleasant, for his ship was leaky, he was

delayed at the Cape Verde Islands by a Dutch fleet, and he was laid low

by "a great sickness" that attacked him at sea.[5]

After landing it was several weeks before he was able to take over his

duties. But after he had done so, his intentions at once became

apparent. The man was by nature a despot. The despotism of Sir Edmund

Andros in New England and of Lord Howard of Effingham in Virginia in the

years just preceding the Glorious Revolution stemmed, not so much from

the character of these men, as from the deliberate policy of Charles II.

There is no evidence that Charles I ordered Harvey to make himself

absolute. He had too many troubles at home to give much thought to

Virginia.

It may have been Harvey's training as a sea captain which made him

impatient of restraint. In Virginia he acted as though he were still on

the deck of his ship thundering out commands which no one must question.

If the King were in Virginia, would not his orders be obeyed? Then why

not the orders of his Governor? He never tired of reminding the members

of the Council and others that he was the King's substitute. When to his

passion for power are added his rudeness and violence, his avarice and

disregard for the rights of others, we have the picture of one utterly

unsuited to be the chief executive of a liberty loving people.

Harvey was accused of diverting public funds to his own pocket, but of

this we have no direct proof. It is probable that he tried to levy taxes

without the consent of the Assembly. Otherwise one wonders why the

Assembly should have thought it necessary to order "that the Governor

and Council shall not lay any taxes or impositions upon the colony ...

otherwise than by the authority of the Grand Assembly."[6]

But it was chiefly through the courts that he carried out his designs.

He himself presided over the quarter court, and it was he who appointed

the commissioners or justices who sat on the local courts. Thus it was

not difficult for him to secure any verdict he wished. So he had at hand

an instrument to satisfy his lust for power by crushing those who

resisted him, and his lust for money by imposing heavy fines. It should

have been obvious to Charles I when he agreed to give Harvey all fines

and amercements, that it was a dangerous thing to permit a judge, or one

who appointed judges, to profit from his or their decisions.

The most notorious abuse of the judicial power by Harvey was his

prosecution of Dr. Pott. Charging the pleasure-loving physician with

pardoning murder and marking other men's cattle for his own, he

suspended him from the Council, and confined him to his plantation

pending the day of his trial. When Pott defied the Governor's order and

came to Elizabeth City, Harvey put him in prison and set a guard around

it. In July, 1630, he was put on trial.

We have only one detail of the proceedings, but that like a flash is

revealing of Pott's character and of the farcical character of the

prosecution. When a certain Richard Kingswell testified against him,

Pott declared that he was as great a liar and hypocrite as Gusman of

Alfrach. He was referring to the book by Mateo Aleman, of Seville, in

which Gusman is shown first as a scullion, then as an errand boy, then

as a thief, then as a pretended gentleman who cheated his creditors.[7]

But this thrust did not save him. He was convicted, and his entire

estate confiscated.[8]

It would seem that in this case Harvey was actuated more by a desire to

show his power than by avarice. If he could humble so prominent a man as

Pott, one who had been acting Governor, others would stand in awe of

him. "It will be a means to bring people to ... hold a better respect to

the Governor than hitherto they have done," he wrote.[9] But having

shown his power to ruin, he now sought to show that he could also

restore. So he wrote the King suggesting clemency. "For as much as he is

the only physician in the colony, and skilled in the epidemical diseases

of the planters ... I am bound to entreat" your Majesty to pardon

him.[10]

A more sincere plea came from the doctor's wife, Elizabeth. Getting up

from a sick bed, she made the long and dangerous voyage to England to

complain to the King "touching the wrong" done her husband. Charles

referred the case to the Virginia Commissioners, who listened

sympathetically as she poured out the story of injustice and

persecution.[11] They concluded that there had been "some hard usage

against" Pott, and recommended that the King pardon him. Accordingly,

Charles forgave his "offences" and restored his property.[12] But the

jovial doctor never regained his seat in the Council.

The prosecution of Pott set the example for others. "The Governor

usurped the whole power in all causes without any respect to the votes

of the Council," reported Samuel Mathews, "whereby justice was done but

so far as suited his will to the great loss of many men's estates and a

general fear in all." If other members of the court opposed him, he

would revile them and tell them they were there merely to advise him. He

could accept or reject their opinions as he liked, since "the power lay

in himself to dispose of all matters as his Majesty's substitute."[13]

With the General Court dominated by the overbearing and avaricious

Governor no man was safe. At any moment one might be hauled before the

bar, charged with some petty offence, found guilty, and given a ruinous

fine. Mathews said that there were an "infinite number of particular

men's grievances."[14] William Claiborne thought it strange that Harvey

"should so demean himself," for "all men were wronged, and even good and

bad had forsaken him."[15] It was in every man's mouth that "no justice

was done." When a report of these things reached England, Sir John

Wolstenholm, one of the Virginia Commissioners, said that "Sir John

Harvey stunk in Court and city."[16]

Harvey's attempts to make himself absolute, his disregard of other men's

rights, his perversion of justice did not go unchallenged. Soon the

meetings of the Council became stormy. The Governor insisted that he, as

the King's substitute, had a right to determine all things. The

Councillors were merely his assistants, whose duty it was to advise him,

but not to oppose him. But the Councillors dissented vigorously. Look at

your commission, they told him, and you will see that it directs that

all matters must be determined by the majority of voices. Does it not

say that the King grants to the Governor and Council "and the greater

number of you respectively full power and authority to execute" the

duties of the executive body?

Soon Harvey was filling his letters with complaints of the opposition of

the Council. "For instead of giving me assistance, they stand contesting

and disputing my authority, averring that I can do nothing but what they

shall advise me, and that my power extendeth no further than a bare

casting voice."[17] He had shown them a letter from the King

strengthening his commission, but they refused to budge from their

position. He would be grateful if his Majesty would be so explicit "that

the place of Governor and the duty of Councillors may be known and

distinguished."[18]

The Privy Council answered by warning both sides to put an end to their

disputes and cooperate with each other in advancing the good of the

colony. So they drew up and signed a formal reconciliation. They

promised "to swallow up and bury" all complaints, and to turn their

"alienated and distempered" minds to thoughts of love and peace. The

Councillors vowed to give the Governor "all the service, honor, and due

respect which belongs to him as his Majesty's substitute."[19]

The reconciliation proved a sham. Harvey continued to be overbearing and

arbitrary; the Councillors were as bitter as ever. When one of them,

Thomas Hinton, in an outburst of anger gave Harvey some "ill words," he

ousted him from his seat. Love and peace were far indeed from the

Governor's mind when he responded to some "ill language" from Captain

Richard Stevens by landing a blow in his face with a cudgel and knocking

out some of his teeth.[20]

In 1634 a certain Captain Thomas Young arrived in Virginia with a

commission from the King authorizing him to discover and search the

unexplored parts of the colony. Needing two shallops, and hearing that

one of the planters had an indentured worker who was a skilled

shipwright, he seized him and put him to work. In this violation of

property rights he was supported by the Governor. But it aroused the

anger of the Council, and several of them came to Harvey to demand an

explanation.

Harvey may have had in mind the Forced Loans as a precedent for taking

the property of the subject, when he replied that his Majesty had given

Young "authority to make use of any persons he found there." Young

needed the shipwright "to prosecute with speed the King's service," he

said. Speaking for the others, Samuel Mathews retorted angrily that if

things were done in that fashion it would breed ill blood in Virginia.

Turning his back he whirled a truncheon he carried in his hand, and

lashed off the heads of some high weeds.[21] The Governor, ignoring

this, said: "Come, gentlemen, let us go to supper, and for the night

leave this discourse." But they were in no humor to be appeased. With

one accord they turned their backs and left "in a very irreverent

manner."

The Virginians were further embittered against Harvey for the aid he

gave to Lord Baltimore's settlers. It was on February 27, 1634, that the

_Ark_ and the _Dove_, with Leonard and George Calvert, twenty "gentlemen

adventurers," and three-hundred laborers, arrived at Point Comfort. They

bore a letter to the Governor from the King requiring him to treat them

with courtesy and respect, permit them to buy cattle and other

commodities, and do all he could to advance their settlement.

Harvey did his best to comply. He sent them some of his own cows and

promised to procure more. But this was not easy. The planters were so

outraged at having a part of their territory torn away for a colony of

Catholics that they swore they would knock their cattle on the head

rather than sell them to the Marylanders. Some of the members of the

Council had been informed by letters from England of Lord Baltimore's

plans. When Samuel Mathews opened one of them, he threw his hat on the

ground in a fury, stamped, and cried: "A pox upon Maryland!"[22] He,

with William Claiborne and other members of the Council, held many

secret meetings to decide upon a course of action. But they were

powerless to prevent the _Ark_ and the _Dove_ from moving up the

Chesapeake Bay with the newcomers, and the founding of a little town

near the mouth of the Potomac.

Three years before their arrival Claiborne had made a settlement on Kent

Island in the Chesapeake near the site of Annapolis. So now he found

himself torn from Virginia and handed over to another government. The

result was open warfare. It was prophetic of the battle between the

Merrimac and the Monitor in Chesapeake waters more than two centuries

later, when two pinnaces full of armed men captured an armed vessel sent

out by the Kent Islanders.

When this news reached Jamestown there was great indignation. Harvey

tried to justify the Marylanders, but this merely intensified the

people's hatred of him. So he not only aids in the dismemberment of

Virginia, it was said, but upholds the intruders in murdering our

people. Is it right that one who is Governor of the colony should side

with her enemies?

The crisis came in 1635. King Charles, ever pressed for money, tried

once more to secure a tobacco contract. So he wrote Harvey directing him

to call an Assembly and to ask for "the sole pre-emption of all

tobacco," at a lower price and a reduced quantity. The members of the

Council, especially Samuel Mathews, John Utie, and William Pierce,

opposed the contract "very saucily."[23] As for the Burgesses, they

hated all contracts. So they drew up an answer which was in effect a

refusal. In order to give the paper the character of a petition they all

signed it. This they gave to Harvey to send to the King.

But instead of forwarding it, the Governor detained it. In excuse of

this arbitrary action he said he feared the King "would not take well

the matter thereof, and that they should make it a popular business by

subscribing a multitude of hands thereto, as thinking thereby to give it

countenance."[24] The people were outraged. So our Governor takes it on

himself to decide what or what not we shall say to our King. Is it not

the right of all Englishmen to address their sovereign? "The wrong done

by the Governor to the whole colony in detaining the foresaid letters to

his Majesty did exceedingly perplex them, whereby they were made

sensible of the condition of the present government," wrote Samuel

Mathews.[25]

Things had now come to a head. A petition demanding a redress of

grievances was drawn up, which Francis Pott, brother of Dr. John Pott,

took about the country. Everywhere he found the people tired of Harvey's

arbitrary conduct, tired of his injustice to individual persons. So they

pressed forward eagerly to sign the petition. Harvey says that only in

Accomac did they refuse.[26]

It was in April, 1635, that Pott, Captain Nicholas Martian, and William

English, the sheriff of York County, addressed a gathering at the house

of William Warren. This meeting has a special significance in the long

struggle for American liberty, for Warren's house was on or near the

site of the Moore House, at Yorktown, where the British army under Lord

Cornwallis surrendered a century and a half later. The speakers were

denouncing Harvey's despotic government when some friends of the

Governor tried to enter. A servant kept them out, but they hung around

outside and "bended themselves to hearken to the discourse among

them."[27] When the speeches were concluded those present gathered

around the petition and affixed their signatures.

When this was reported to Harvey, he flew into a rage. Calling the

Council, he issued warrants for the arrest of Francis Pott, English, and

Martian. They were brought up in irons. Pott handed over the petition

and declared that if he had offended he appealed to the King. "He was

sure of no justice from Sir John Harvey." When the prisoners asked why

they were arrested, the Governor told them that they would be told at

the gallows. So they were hustled off to prison.[28]

Harvey then called the Council together again and told them that it was

necessary to try the prisoners by martial law. But the Councillors

insisted on a legal trial. In the dispute which followed Harvey became

violently angry. Finally, he sat down and ordered the others to sit.

Looking around with a frown, he said: "I am to propound a question to

you.... What do you think they deserve that have gone about to persuade

the people from their obedience to his Majesty's substitute?"

Turning to George Menefie, he said, "I begin with you." Menefie answered

that since he was but a young lawyer he did not dare give an opinion

"upon the sudden." Here Nicholas Farrar interposed to protest against

this method of proceeding. But Harvey cut him short with the command to

hold his tongue until he was spoken to. Thereupon Samuel Mathews spoke

up to enter his protest. But instantly, in the King's name, he was told

to be silent. Mathews insisted there was no precedent for this attempt

to make men incriminate themselves unless it was that by a tyrant. Here

he was alluding to the passage in Shakespeare's _King Richard_ III in

which Richard asked Lord Hastings what should be done to the women who

had bewitched him. Hastings replied that if they had done so they ought

to die. "Talk'st thou to me of ifs," replied Richard, "thou art a

traitor. Off with his head." Harvey evidently did not relish being

compared to Richard, and so retorted with many "bitter languages."[29]

The Councillors were now determined to bring their dispute with the

Governor to an issue. The next time he summoned them to meet, they

brought with them fifty musketeers and concealed them near the house.

Harvey asked them with a stern look what they thought was the reason for

the petition against him. "The chief cause was the detaining of the

letters to his Majesty," replied Mr. Menefie. This infuriated Harvey.

Rising from his chair, he struck Menefie a resounding blow on the

shoulder, saying: "I arrest you on suspicion of treason to his Majesty."

But now he had gone too far. Utie and Mathews seized him, exclaiming:

"And we you upon suspicion of treason to his Majesty."[30]

At this juncture Dr. Pott, who was standing near the door, held up his

hand as a signal, and the musketeers came running up "with their pieces

presented." "Stay here until there be use of you," Pott commanded. In

the meanwhile, Mathews had forced Harvey down into a chair. "Sir, there

is no harm intended against you only to acquaint you with the grievances

of the inhabitants," he told him. So he poured out the recital of the

wrongs done the colony and demanded that they be redressed. But the

Governor, who was in no mood for making concessions, denied that any

wrong had been done. After an ominous pause Mathews said: "Sir, the

people's fury is up against you and to appease it is beyond our power,

unless you please to go for England." Harvey replied that the King had

sent him to Virginia to be Governor, and he would not leave until he

ordered him to do so.

But he soon changed his mind. That night a courier came riding up with a

letter to Harvey from Thomas Purifie, who seems to have been one of his

few friends in the Council, giving an alarming report of the threatening

attitude of the people. At first the Governor said he would defy them to

do their worst. Would it not be better to remain, though he be cut in a

thousand pieces, than to desert his charge? he asked Secretary Richard

Kemp. Kemp replied that for him to remain might "hazard the King's

service" by provoking the infuriated people to further acts of violence.

So at last he yielded and promised to leave.[31]

The rebellious Councillors now took over the government. They released

English, Martian, and Francis Pott, forced Harvey to deliver his

commission and instructions to Secretary Kemp, set an armed guard around

him ostensibly to protect him from violence, posted armed men in "all

ways and passages," called a General Assembly, and sent out a

proclamation inviting the people to lay their grievances before it, and

appointed their senior member, John West, a brother of Lord De la Warr,

acting Governor.[32]

In the meanwhile, Harvey had left Jamestown to seek refuge in the house

of Mr. William Brocas, "whose wife was generally suspected to have more

familiarity with him than befitted a modest woman." Here he thought

himself secure enough to dismiss his guard. And from here he wrote a

threatening letter to the members of the Assembly, commanding them in

the King's name to disperse. He also wrote Secretary Kemp demanding the

return of his commission and instructions. The Councillors seized the

first letter, refused to read it to the Burgesses, and the Assembly went

on with the consideration of the grievances, "which were innumerable."

As for the commission and the instructions, they had taken them from

Kemp and turned them over to Menefie for safe keeping.[33]

The Assembly now passed resolutions accusing Harvey of misgovernment and

injustice, and explaining why the people had been driven to the extreme

expedient of sending him back to England. As their agent to deliver

these papers to the King they appointed one of the Burgesses, Thomas

Harwood. With him went Francis Pott to plead his case before the King.

Since it would be several months before the tobacco ships sailed for

England, there seems to have been only one vessel leaving at the time.

So Harvey, as well as Pott and Harwood, had to embark on it.

As events turned out this was unfortunate. Not that Harvey's frowns and

threats frightened Pott and Harwood, but that it gave him a chance to

frustrate their plans when they landed at Plymouth. Hardly had the ship

touched dock when he hastened to see the mayor of the city to tell him

of the "late mutiny and rebellion" in Virginia. So the mayor put Pott

under arrest "as a principal author and agent thereof," and seized the

trunk containing the papers entrusted to Harwood. Pott was dragged off

to London and locked up in the old debtors' prison called the Fleet.[34]

In the meanwhile, Harwood had set off post haste to get to London ahead

of Harvey so as to make friends and tell of his misgovernment. He got a

ride with the postman who was carrying the mail. At Exeter he stopped at

the Sign of the Valiant Soldier, and drank a pint of wine with the

proprietor. This seems to have loosened his tongue, for he poured out

the story of Harvey's misdeeds to this stranger, told him of his

mission, and added that if Harvey ever returned to Virginia "he would be

pistolled or shot."[35]

We do not know whether Harwood or Harvey won the race to London. But it

was the Governor who succeeded in gaining the support of the King and

the Privy Council. It is possible that his accusation that Harwood "was

one of the chief of the mutineer Burgesses that opposed his Majesty's

service in the tobacco contract and in stirring up the country to this

mutiny," may have landed him in prison. At all events, when the Privy

Council met, the Governor had things his own way.

The King was greatly surprised that the Virginians had dared defy him by

ousting their duly appointed Governor. He was determined to send Harvey

back if but for one day, he said. And should he clear himself of the

charges against him, he would keep him there longer than he had

intended. As a further vindication of his authority, he gave orders that

West, Mathews, Utie, and Pierce, the leaders of the mutiny, be brought

to England "to answer their misdemeanors." He also directed the Attorney

General to draw up a new commission for Harvey with an enlargement of

his powers.[36]

Though Harvey may have been a bit nervous over the threat of

"pistoling," he was too anxious to regain his confiscated property and

get revenge on his enemies to hesitate to return to Virginia. He made no

secret of his intention to confiscate the property of those who had so

humiliated him. As for Samuel Mathews, whose estate consisted largely of

cattle, he vowed he would leave him not worth a cow's tail.[37] Yet he

thought it prudent to ask for one of the King's ships, explaining that

this would "much abate the boldness of the offenders." So on October 2,

1636, he set forth proudly in the _Black George_. But he did not get

very far. The _Black George_ proved so leaky that for a while it seemed

that it might prove a Godsend to Virginia by taking Sir John to the

bottom. But it turned back and succeeded in reaching port. The Governor

set sail again, this time on a merchant vessel.

When he reached Virginia, in January, 1637, Harvey could not wait for

the ship to wend its way up to Jamestown before asserting his authority,

but landed at Point Comfort and established a temporary capital at

Elizabeth City. Here he began immediately to turn sheriffs and justices

out of office and replace them with men more to his liking.[38]

Messengers were sent to summon the Council to meet in the Elizabeth City

church. It must have been with an air of triumph that he greeted the

Councillors, for now the day of retribution had come.

One would think that Harvey's expulsion would have taught him a lesson.

Instead, his desire for revenge drove him into new excesses. With the

enlarged powers of his new commission, with the Council submissive to

his will, with the courts manned by his favorites, with the prestige of

the King's backing, he went to great extremes. The Reverend Anthony

Panton accused him of "many arbitrary and illegal proceedings in

judgment, tyranny, extortion." The "unjust whippings, cutting of ears,

fining and confiscation of honest men's goods," must have brought back

memories of Dale and Argall. The converting of fines to his "own profit

and use," or to reward his henchmen, convinced the people that men were

accused and sentenced, not because they were guilty of any crime, but

merely to have an excuse for taking their property.[39]

In the meanwhile, West, Mathews, Utie, and Pierce had been sent as

prisoners to England to answer the charge of mutiny, where a bill was

exhibited against them in the Star Chamber. But here the matter hung

fire. George Donne, Muster General of Virginia and a member of the

Council, who had come to England to prosecute them, became ill. Harvey

neglected to put up the money for necessary fees. The great cost of the

voyage across the Atlantic prevented the sending over of witnesses.

But in the absence of the accused men, Sir John took ample revenge on

them. They were informed by letters from Virginia that "divers of their

goods, cattle, and servants" had been confiscated. So they complained to

the Privy Council. Mathews assured them that Harvey was bent on ruining

him, and that he had been heard to say that if one "stood, tother should

fall, and if he swum, the other should sink." He seems to have convinced

the Privy Council, for on May 25, 1637, they wrote Harvey ordering him

to restore Mathews' property.[40]

But so reluctant was Harvey to be cheated out of his revenge that he

postponed compliance in the hope that something might occur to give him

an excuse for not obeying. This excuse he found in a letter from the

Privy Council expressing satisfaction with his administration. It was

his excuse, also, for further severities against Mathews. Kemp and

others entered his house, broke open the doors of several rooms,

ransacked his trunks, examined his papers, and carried off a part of his

goods and eight of his servants.[41]

When word of this reached the Privy Council, the sub-committee to whom

the case was referred gave it as their opinion that Mathews had been

"very hardly dealt with." "We cannot but clearly discern somewhat of

passion in the said proceedings," they reported. So the Privy Council

wrote again to Harvey, commanding him once more to restore Mathews'

property. This time the Governor complied, writing the Privy Council a

long, but lame excuse for what he had done.[42]

Another victim of Harvey's malice was the Reverend Anthony Panton,

minister of the parishes of York and Chiskiack. Panton had quarreled

with the Governor's warm friend, Secretary Kemp, and had incurred his

lasting enmity by calling him a "jackanapes," who was "unfit for the

place of secretary," adding that "his hair-lock was tied up with ribbon

as old as St. Paul's." So he was now brought to trial, charged with

mutinous speeches and disobedience to the Governor, and with disrespect

to the Archbishop of Canterbury. The farcical character of justice as

administered by Harvey is shown by the fact that in the trial Kemp acted

not only as prosecutor but as one of the judges. Panton's conviction was

a matter of course. He was fined L500, forced to make public

submission, and was banished from Virginia and forbidden ever to return

on pain of death, and authority was given "to any man whatsoever to

execute him."[43]

Throughout Virginia colonial history the parties to any dispute who were

in London to urge their side had a great advantage. So Mathews, Utie,

Pierce, and Francis Pott, after they secured their liberty under bail,

devoted their time to undermining Sir John at Court. The Governor

charged that they planted spies in all parts of the city to invite

persons who had just arrived from Virginia into taverns, treated them to

wine to make them talkative, and got them to state their grievances. So

they poured out the stories of Harvey's confiscations, extortions,

whippings, and pressure on the courts of justice.[44]

As the evidence against Harvey piled up the exiles gained the support of

the sub-committee of the Privy Council to whom colonial affairs were

usually referred. Sir John wrote at length to refute what he called "the

malicious untruths of such who by all means do go about and study to

traduce us." But in vain, for the Privy Council decided to remove

him.[45]

The shoe was now on the other foot. On January 11, 1639, Sir Francis

Wyatt received a commission as Governor of Virginia. When this news

reached the colony there was rejoicing, for Wyatt had shown himself a

staunch defender of liberty during his previous administration. The

people could be sure that he would redress their wrongs and see to it

that justice was done all men. Nor were they disappointed. No sooner had

Wyatt arrived than he summoned the General Court and brought Harvey

before it to answer for his misdeeds.[46]

Kemp, who was retained as Secretary and Councillor by order of the Privy

Council, was helpless to prevent his fellow judges from passing sentence

on the deposed Governor. "They of the old commission have been

persecuted with much malice," he wrote in March, 1640, "the weight

whereof hath hitherto principally fallen on Sir John Harvey, whose

estate is wholly sequestered at present, and at the next court now

approaching will assuredly be swept away."[47] Harvey wrote that he

groaned under the oppression of his enemies, and that he was so closely

watched that he hardly had privacy enough to write a letter. His enemies

had now been advanced to be his judges, and were tearing his estate from

him by inviting his creditors to clamor against him. Both Harvey and

Kemp asked permission to go to England, but this was refused. Not only

were they held to answer charges, but because the new administration had

no desire to have them clamoring against them at Court.

"Sir John being ... laid flat," Wyatt next took up the case of Anthony

Panton against Kemp.[48] This matter had been sifted out by the Privy

Council, who reported that they could find no proof of the charges

against the minister. It seemed strange to them that he should be

accused of mutinous behavior throughout six or seven years, in view of

the fact that ten months previously Harvey had presented him to a

benefice. So they suspended the harsh sentence, and referred the matter

to Governor Wyatt. The Virginia court promptly reversed the previous

action, declared Panton guiltless, and restored his estate. So he

returned in triumph and resumed his duties in his two parishes. To Kemp

this was the crowning humiliation. "I am exceedingly injured, and shall

suffer without guilt unless my friends now assist me," he wrote. "The

Governor and Council aim at my ruin."[49]

The men employed to watch Harvey and Kemp must have relaxed their

vigilance, for both escaped and made their way back to England. Thomas

Stegg, who aided Kemp in getting away, had to pay dearly, for the

Governor and Council fined him L50 and imprisoned him. In London, Harvey

and Kemp sought influential friends, poured out their complaints to

them, and tried to undermine Wyatt at Court. Kemp later returned to

Virginia, where he resumed his place as Secretary, and his seat in the

Council. Harvey seems to have given up politics as a bad business and

returned to the sea as what he probably considered a less dangerous

vocation. He died in 1650.

The thrusting out of Sir John Harvey is a landmark in the long struggle

for self-government in Virginia. It showed that there was a point beyond

which no Governor dared go in trampling upon the rights of the people.

It was a daring thing for the Virginians to defy the King by deposing

the man he had sent as their Governor, and notifying him in effect that

they wanted him to make a better selection. That Charles sent Harvey

back and that he was as tyrannical after his return as he had been

before, does not obscure the meaning of this uprising as a clash between

the royal assertion of despotic right and the American devotion to

liberty.

Harvey based his claims to supreme power on the theory that he was the

King's substitute, and as such should have the unquestioning obedience

of the people. The Virginians contended that his power was limited by

law. Even had his rule been marked by justice and moderation, they would

have denied his pretensions. But when he made them the basis for an

odious tyranny, they took a step unique in American colonial history, by

laying violent hands on him, and sending him back to his royal master.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] CO1-4, p. 18.

[2] _Virginia Magazine_ 13: 301.

[3] E. D. Neill, _Virginia Company of London_, 221.

[4] _Ibid._, 79.

[5] _Virginia Magazine_ 7: 375-376.

[6] W. W. Hening, _Virginia statutes at large_ 1: 171.

[7] E. D. Neill, _Virginia Carolorum_, 79.

[8] CO1-5, p. 32.

[9] _Ibid._

[10] _Ibid._, 33.

[11] CO1-5, p. 33.

[12] _Ibid._

[13] _Virginia Magazine_ 1: 416.

[14] _Ibid._, 417.

[15] E. D. Neill, _Virginia Carolorum_, 122.

[16] _Virginia Magazine_ 1: 430.

[17] CO1-6, p. 34.

[18] _Ibid._, 37.

[19] _Ibid._

[20] _Virginia Magazine_ 8: 405.

[21] CO1-8.

[22] CO1-6, p. 46.

[23] CO1-8.

[24] CO1-8.

[25] _Virginia Magazine_ 1: 416.

[26] _Ibid._, 427.

[27] _Ibid._, 303.

[28] CO1-8, p. 48.

[29] _Virginia Magazine_ 1: 418, 419.

[30] _Virginia Magazine_ 8: 304.

[31] _Ibid._

[32] _Virginia Magazine_ 1: 421.

[33] _Ibid._, 422; CO1-8.

[34] CO1-8, p. 61.

[35] _Ibid._, 403.

[36] CO1-8, p. 61.

[37] CO1-10, p. 64.

[38] _Virginia Magazine_ 10: 265.

[39] E. D. Neill, _Virginia Carolorum_, 150; _Report of Commission on

Historical Manuscripts_, 3.

[40] _Virginia Magazine_ 9: 179, 180.

[41] CO1-9, p. 121.

[42] CO1-10, p. 14.

[43] CO1-10, p. 32.

[44] _Ibid._, 15.

[45] _Ibid._, 3.

[46] CO1-10, p. 61.

[47] _Ibid._

[48] _Ibid._, 64, I.

[49] CO1-10, 64.

Give Me Liberty: The Struggle for Self-Government in Virginia · 第 3 / 14 章