THE GLORIOUS REVOLUTION
The Glorious Revolution completely changed the relations between the
English people and the King. No sooner had James fled than a committee
of the Commons drew up a "Declaration of Rights," to secure the liberty
of the subjects and the power of Parliament, which was accepted by both
Houses and by William. Parliament then declared William and Mary joint
monarchs. Mary could argue that as the child of James II she was the
rightful heir to the Throne, but William could make no such claim. So
the old Tory doctrine of divine right was officially repudiated, and the
monarch henceforth ruled by the consent of the nation. The Revolution
opened a new epoch of liberty.
The people of Virginia were well aware that they were to share in this
liberty. In an address to the King and Queen, the Assembly gave them
heartfelt thanks for "so magnanimously exposing" their persons in
rescuing them, their religion, laws, and liberties from the twin evils
of slavery and popery. They begged them, while extending their justice
and goodness over the English nation, not to forget their faithful
subjects in Virginia. They, too, were "descended of Englishmen," and had
the right to enjoy "the just and lawful liberties and privileges of free
born" Englishmen.[1]
In this they were not disappointed. During the next seventy-five years
they advanced steadily along the road to liberty. From time to time they
had to contend with despotically inclined Governors, but these men,
prior to the reign of George III, in assailing the rights of the people
acted on their own initiative rather than at the command of the King. By
the middle of the eighteenth century Virginia had become in internal
affairs practically a self-governing dominion. People began to say
openly that final authority rested, not with the King, but with the
people, and that governments derived their powers from the consent of
the governed.
This trend was noted early in the eighteenth century. As early as 1706
Colonel Quary warned the English government of what was coming. A few
years later Governor Spotswood wrote: "If the ancient and legal rights
of the Crown must give place to the later customs of an infant colony,
especially if the practice and usage which ... men would introduce shall
be of greater force, the prince's power and authority must daily lose
ground here."[2]
It was a slow, almost imperceptible process. But year after year the
Burgesses whittled away at the powers of the Governor, until, after the
passage of decades, the change became apparent to all. Berkeley,
Culpeper, and Effingham had exercised almost dictatorial powers; Gooch,
Fauquier, and Botetourt ate out of the hands of the Assembly. Whereas
the Governors of the seventeenth century commanded and threatened, those
of the mid-eighteenth century pleaded. On one occasion Governor Fauquier
wrote the Lords of Trade that he had signed a bill, not because he
approved of it, but because had he vetoed it he "must have despaired of
ever gaining any influence either in the Council or House of Burgesses."
The shouting and firing of guns in celebration of the accession of
William and Mary had hardly ended when the Virginians turned their
thoughts to the long desired new charter. The Bill of Rights gave them
as well as Englishmen residing in England guarantees of liberty, but
they had distinctive interests which they thought ought to be protected.
Appointing Jeffrey Jeffreys to manage the affair, the Council and
Burgesses sent him L200 for expenses and suggested that he call to his
support any Virginians who chanced to be in London. That the art of
lobbying was as well understood in the seventeenth century as it is
today is shown by their instruction "to procure the assistance ... of
the nobility and such as have offices at Whitehall and other men of note
... to be mediators with their Majesties."[3]
The proposed charter was to confirm the authority of the Assembly. At
first sight this would seem to be unnecessary since the Assembly had
been in existence since 1619, and had been recognized by James I,
Charles I, Charles II, and James II. But the attempts to undermine its
authority during the Second Stuart Despotism had convinced the people
that its very existence might be threatened by some future King.
They asked, also, that in the charter it be promised "that no tax be
made upon this country but by the consent of the Assembly." The people
had been deeply disappointed that a like promise had been left out of
the charter of 1676. They took for granted that Parliament would not
violate their rights as Englishmen by taxing them, but it would have
comforted them to have it down in black and white. How necessary such a
guarantee was became apparent eighty-five years later with the passage
of the Stamp Act.
The charter was to promise, also, that the King and Queen would continue
to the Virginians and their descendants their rights as natural born
subjects of England, and that as "near as may be" they should be
governed after the same method as Englishmen, and "have the full benefit
of the Great Charter and all other laws and statutes indulging the
liberty of the subjects." Jeffreys was to ask that "the ancient method"
of making appeals from the General Court to the Assembly be restored,
since appeals to the Privy Council were in most cases impractical
because of the expense involved and the difficulty of bringing
"evidences, papers, and other records" to England.[4]
We do not know why the application for the charter was dropped. It may
have been because Jeffreys found that it would not meet with success, or
the Assembly may have been persuaded that a charter was unnecessary
under the liberal administration of the new monarchs.
Francis Nicholson, who had been selected to serve as Lieutenant Governor
during Effingham's absence, arrived in Virginia in May, 1690. The choice
was unfortunate. This man was a strange mixture of contrasting
characteristics. A devoted Church of England man and a friend of the
clergy, he was at times shockingly profane. One of the patrons of the
College of William and Mary, and the founder of the city of
Williamsburg, he was unscrupulous in trampling on the rights of all who
opposed him. Seeking the admiration of those with whom he was
associated, he alienated his best friends by his fits of uncontrollable
temper. Capable of acts of great generosity, he was accused of being
parsimonious in his private life.
Nicholson's treatment of the Reverend Mr. Slaughter was typical. He and
a certain Captain James Moodie had gone to York to a funeral. "The
ceremony and sermon being over," Moodie relates, "he went out of church,
where he saw and heard the Governor in the most outrageous passion that
he ever saw, swearing the most horrid oaths and most bitter imprecations
against Mr. Slaughter, the minister of that parish, calling the said
Slaughter rogue, rascal, knave, and all the base billingsgate language
that could be in the basest of men's mouths, shaking his horsewhip and
threatening to beat the said minister therewith, and to pull his gown
over his ears."[5] Apparently Mr. Slaughter had brought on this torrent
of abuse by asking for a fee for the funeral sermon.
Nicholson's conduct as Deputy Governor of New York under Sir Edmund
Andros at the time of the Glorious Revolution was not such as to inspire
confidence that he would do well in Virginia. With no official orders to
proclaim William and Mary, and with the people ready to rush to arms,
what was needed was tact and conciliatory measures. Instead, Nicholson
flew into a rage and talked about suppressing the "uproar and
rebellion." It was rumored that he planned to burn the city, and that
the people were to be betrayed and murdered. When some armed men, under
the German merchant Jacob Leisler, seized the fort, Nicholson deserted
his post and took ship for England.[6]
The first meeting of the Council after Nicholson arrived at Jamestown
was held on January 3, 1690. After he had shown his commission, he and
the Councillors went to the courthouse where it was read to the people
assembled there. If the Virginians had been prejudiced against the new
Lieutenant Governor by reports of his conduct in New York, they could
not have been reassured by his personal appearance. It was said that
when he made a bow to the ladies, he looked like a goose picking up
straws.
Nicholson began his administration with a due regard to the influence of
the Council. He had noticed that some of them held large tracts of land
for which they paid no quit rents, and he pointed out, in a letter to
the Earl of Nottingham, that it would strengthen the hands of the
Governor if they were forced to pay up. "But the great men being
concerned, I dare not venture to put any new method in execution
without an instruction."[7]
He was equally cautious at first to defer to the Council in making
appointments. When the sheriff of Middlesex died, he asked those
Councillors who lived in that part of the country to nominate his
successor. When they suggested Mr. Robert Dudley, Nicholson at once gave
him a commission. At the same meeting he pointed out that the regular
time for naming sheriffs and coroners was at hand, and asked that the
Councillors be prepared to make nominations at their next meeting.[8]
But it was not long before he began to use the patronage to build up his
own power under the guise of defending the royal prerogative. When the
oath of supremacy was tendered the members of the Council, Richard Lee,
Isaac Allerton, and John Armistead refused to take it because they were
Roman Catholics. Nicholson filled one vacancy by naming Attorney General
Edmund Jenings. He then sent a list of four other prominent men to the
King and Queen, with the suggestion that they select the other two from
it. Three of the four deserved well, he pointed out, because in the
House of Burgesses they had been "for their Majesties' interest."
Colonel Thomas Milner, the Speaker, behaved very well too, "but he hath
not estate enough to be a Councillor. But he should have promise of some
place of profit."[9]
We have no evidence that Nicholson tried to build up a party in the
House of Burgesses by distributing sheriff's places to the members. But
he did try to ingratiate himself by hobnobbing with them and "admitting"
them daily to his table. This he did, he said, in order to keep a good
agreement with them for their Majesties' service and advance the public
affairs of the country, and not to propose or gain anything to be done
in the Assembly. But the fact that he used the same technique to gain
power during his second administration, makes his protestations seem
rather hollow.
Nicholson claimed great success for his administration. He had
befriended the clergy and bettered their condition, he pointed out, he
had "looked after their Majesties' revenue," and left it in excellent
condition, he had reorganized the militia. But he admitted, in fact
boasted, that he had defended the royal prerogative on all occasions. He
might have added that he had given Commissary Blair his wholehearted
support in his efforts to found a college.
When Nicholson heard that Effingham had retired as Governor General of
Virginia, and that he had been succeeded by Sir Edmund Andros, he was
bitterly disappointed. As Lieutenant Governor under Effingham, he
thought that when the government became vacant it was his due. He was
especially disgruntled that Andros had been selected since he had
against him a long standing pique. Yet he made the best of the
situation, greeted Andros upon his arrival, and, at the head of the
James City County militia, escorted him to Jamestown "through the
several counties which were in his way."[10]
It must have been with apprehension that the Virginians received Sir
Edmund, for reports of his despotism in New England had preceded him.
They had heard that there he ruled like an Eastern despot, promulgating
laws, levying taxes without the consent of the Assemblies, placing men
under arrest and denying them the right of _habeas corpus_. And they
knew that the Bostonians had at last captured him, put him aboard a
vessel, and shipped him back to England. The Virginians were ready to
offer stiff resistance should he try to rule them with a harsh hand.
So they were surprised to find Andros a mild mannered man, who not only
made no attack on their liberty, but tried to live in peace with both
Council and Burgesses. He seems not to have used the patronage to build
up his power, nor to have broken the grip of the House on the purse by
demanding large fees; he would have allowed the Burgesses to appoint
their own clerk had his instructions permitted it, and he carefully kept
off the explosive subject of the arrears of quit rents. Edward Randolph
summed it up by saying that he had "mightily gained upon the Council and
chief men in the country by his even temper."[11]
Nothing can illustrate better the progress made in self-government in
Virginia since the overthrow of James II than the Burgesses' cavalier
treatment of two bills recommended by the King and Queen. The first, a
bill to prohibit the exportation of loose tobacco, was greatly desired
by the English merchants. The other, a bill to establish ports in the
Virginia rivers, had been passed in 1688 by the Assembly, and was now
returned for certain revisions before becoming law. The Burgesses
promptly voted down both measures. "The appointment of ports and
enjoining the landing and shipping of all goods ... from the same will
... be very injurious and burdensome," they said. There was a long
debate on the question of prohibiting the exportation of loose tobacco,
but this bill too failed to pass. Andros was deeply concerned at this
disregard of the royal wishes, but when the Council advised him that
nothing more could be done with the Burgesses, he dissolved them.[12]
The British government also decided that it was best not to press the
matter. In 1695 Andros spoke of the King's "goodness" in dispensing with
his prerogative "to establish ports without the consent of the Assembly,
and leaving it to our choice, and also in waiving the prohibition of
bulk tobacco so earnestly desired in England because it was found not
pleasing here." But the victory of the Burgesses riled Edward Randolph.
"They are full of conceit, and fancy themselves as great as the House of
Commons in England," he said in disgust.[13]
It is probable that the King was so lenient with the Assembly because he
wanted them to vote men and money to assist New York in her struggle
with the French and Indians. Andros did his best, pointing out that New
York was a bulwark for Virginia, and that if she fell the war cry would
soon be heard on the Virginia frontier. The Burgesses were not
convinced. The situation in New York was not so desperate as had been
represented; they denied that New York was the "bulwark and defense of
Virginia"; they were at heavy expense to guard their own frontier. It
was characteristic of Andros that he asked the Council to reply for him.
The Councillors at heart were no doubt as reluctant as the Burgesses to
send aid to New York, but they were in the position of royal advocates
and put up the best argument they could. Yet the session ended without
anything being done.[14]
When the Assembly met in 1695, Andros had better success. He had been
instructed by the King to send a quota of men from the Virginia militia
whenever the Governor of New York asked for them, he said. This alarmed
the Burgesses. They thought it would not only weaken the defense of
Virginia by taking away so many men, but would so frighten the young
freemen that many would desert their wives and children and leave the
colony. In the end they compromised by voting L500 in lieu of men.[15]
This Andros was forced to accept, though by so doing he brought on
himself a reprimand from the Committee of Trade.[16]
It is strange that Andros, who was so moderate in his dealings with the
House of Burgesses, and declared that he never thought himself better
than when he had them about him to consult for the good of the country,
should have bearded them on one of their most sensitive points--the
appointment of a Treasurer. In 1691 the Assembly passed two laws, one
for levying a poll tax, and one laying a duty on liquors, both of which
were to be "paid by the collectors thereof to the Treasurer." Included
in the act was the naming of Colonel Edward Hill as Treasurer.[17]
A year later, when Nicholson gave him a lucrative job as collector, Hill
had to vacate this office, since it was unlawful for the same man to
hold both. To act as Treasurer until the Assembly convened, the Governor
named one of the Council, Henry Whiting. When the Burgesses met they
questioned Whiting's authority, but he satisfied them by showing them
his commission. They then passed a bill to name a permanent Treasurer,
but the Council, probably at Andros' urging, refused to concur. "The
Governor would never consent to the Assembly's appointing their own
Treasurer but would rather lose a tax than suffer them to do so," James
Blair testified. But, he added: "This makes them suspicious and more
unwilling to raise money."[18]
Whiting held the office until his death, which occurred probably in
September, 1694. Then, for several years, there seems to have been no
Treasurer. But the Burgesses were merely biding their time. Their
opportunity came in 1699. The old statehouse at Jamestown had burned
down, and there was urgent need for an appropriation to build a new one.
They passed a bill placing a duty on the importation of servants and
slaves, and laying a levy by poll, the revenue from both to be paid
into the hands of the Treasurer for financing a new Capitol. Since there
was no Treasurer they included in the act the appointment of Colonel
Robert Carter to that office. The Governor and Council, realizing that
they could not have the Capitol without the Treasurer, yielded.[19]
The undoing of Andros was his quarrel with the Reverend James Blair,
Commissary for the Bishop of London in Virginia. When this rugged
Scotsman came to the colony he found conditions in the Church far from
satisfactory. Since there was no college in the colony the parishes were
entirely dependent upon England for their ministers. The dispersal of
the people was such that if a parish were large enough to provide the
rector with an adequate living, it was too large for him to minister to
properly. Some parishes extended forty miles or more along the banks of
the great Virginia rivers, the minister was usually too poor to have a
library or to marry. Since English clergymen were reluctant to come over
under such conditions, there were many vacant parishes. Often the
vestries in desperation were forced to accept any that offered
themselves, however unsuitable. There were many able and pious ministers
in Virginia, but some were of inferior ability, and a few were a
disgrace to their calling. And it was inevitable that amid the woods and
tobacco fields of a new country they should neglect many features of the
liturgy--the use of vestments, the observance of the saints' days,
burial in consecrated ground, etc.
With the enthusiastic support of the Bishop of London and of Governor
Nicholson, Blair had worked out a plan of reform. He would found a
college to educate young Virginians for the ministry; he would secure an
act of Assembly increasing the ministers' salary; he would enforce
ecclesiastical discipline; he would give the clergy a voice in the
government by procuring a seat in the Council for the Commissary. Going
to England, he gained the backing of the Archbishop of Canterbury and
other prelates, and through them of King William and Queen Mary.[20]
Their Majesties granted a charter for the college, permitted it to be
named William and Mary, gave L1,985.14.10 out of the quit rent fund,
10,000 acres of land, the revenue of one pence a pound on tobacco
exported from Virginia to any other colony, and a salary for the
Commissary from the quit rents. So Blair returned in triumph and took
his seat beside the great men of the Council. But it was a triumph which
won him the enmity of Andros. The Governor, no doubt, was jealous of his
influence in high circles in England, and he viewed with alarm the
diversion from the use of the government to the college and the clergy
of urgently needed funds. With the opening of the year 1694 the
government was facing a deficit with no way of meeting it except by the
hated levy by poll, or by drawing on the quit rents.
Soon Blair was complaining that Andros was trying to obstruct his
reforms for the clergy. There must have been stormy scenes in the
Council meetings, with Blair hurling accusations at the Governor, and
the latter denying them. The President of the College "could not be
obliged by all endeavors to contain himself within bounds," wrote Andros
to Secretary Shrewsbury. "His restless comport I ever passed by till the
whole Council ... faulting him as unfit to be in the Council, I thought
it my duty ... to suspend him."[21]
But Andros did not reckon on Blair's influence in England. Undoubtedly
the Commissary wrote the Bishop of London of his suspension, and the
Bishop complained to the Lords of Trade. In due time Andros received a
rebuke from the King. He had appointed Blair to the Council "the better
to enable him to promote and carry on" the "good and useful" work of
founding a college. Now he found that his gracious intentions had been
discouraged by his suspension. "Our will and pleasure is that forthwith
upon the receipt hereof you take off the said suspension."[22] It was a
bitter humiliation for Andros when, in August, 1696, Blair produced the
King's letter and resumed his seat.[23] So bitter, in fact, that he
dared a second time to oust the hated Commissary. At a meeting of the
Council in April, 1697, Blair asked whether a recent act of Parliament
did not debar him from sitting in the General Court since he was a
native of Scotland. Whereupon the Council, with a promptness he probably
did not expect, voted that not only did it do so, but that it made him
ineligible for the Council as well.[24]
Blair's answer was to take ship for England, there to lay his complaints
before the English prelates and through them before the Board of Trade.
To the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of Salisbury, and the Bishop
of London he undoubtedly poured out his complaints of Andros--that he
was an enemy of the college, that he did not support the efforts to
secure better livings for the clergy, that he had disobeyed the King's
express orders to keep him in the Council. This ecclesiastical lobby was
too much for Sir Edmund. Seeing the handwriting on the wall, he wrote
that he wished to come home because of ill health. On May 31, 1698, his
resignation was accepted and Francis Nicholson named to succeed him as
Governor General.[25]
When Andros bade Jamestown goodbye and set sail for England, a full
decade had passed since the Glorious Revolution, time sufficient for one
to judge its effect upon self-government in Virginia. Some of the losses
of the Second Stuart Despotism had not been regained. The act of 1680
giving the Crown a perpetual revenue had not been repealed; the judicial
powers of the Assembly had not been restored; the efforts to secure a
charter for the colony had been abandoned; the Burgesses had not
regained the right to name their clerk.
Yet the gains far outweighed these failures. Of first importance was it
that the Assembly itself had been preserved with most of its rights and
privileges. It still could initiate legislation, it alone could initiate
money bills, it could determine the uses of all appropriated funds, it
could appoint the Treasurer. The petitions of the Assembly to the Throne
were no longer cast aside with scorn as in the days of Charles II and
James II, but were given careful consideration. The battle for liberty
had not yet been won, many bitter struggles lay ahead, but the gains
made under the mild rule of King William and Queen Mary were vital to
the eventual victory.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] _Journals of the House of Burgesses_, 1660-1693: 370.
[2] CO5-1318.
[3] _Journals of the House of Burgesses_, 1660-1693: 352.
[4] _Journals of the House of Burgesses_, 1660-1693: 352.
[5] CO5-1314, Doc. 9.
[6] _Documentary history of New York_ 2: 25, 31, 42, 181-183.
[7] CO5-1306, Doc. 64.
[8] _Executive journals of the Council_ I: 158.
[9] CO5-1306, Doc. 41.
[10] _Sainsbury papers_ 5: 100.
[11] A. T. S. Goodrick, _Edward Randolph_ 7: 430.
[12] _Sainsbury papers_ 5: 165.
[13] A. T. S. Goodrick, _Edward Randolph_ 7: 448.
[14] _Journals of the House of Burgesses_, 1659-1693: 292, 482-493.
[15] _Ibid._, 1695-1702: 9-42.
[16] CO5-1359, p. 79.
[17] _Journals of the House of Burgesses_, 1659-1693: 360.
[18] CO5-1359, pp. 101, 102.
[19] W. W. Hening, _Statutes at large_ 3: 197, 198.
[20] T. J. Wertenbaker, _The first Americans_, 133.
[21] _Sainsbury papers_ 5: 225, 226.
[22] _Ibid._, 236.
[23] _Executive journals of the Council_ I: 350, 352.
[24] _Ibid._, 364.
[25] CO5-1359, p. 208.