GIVE ME EVERYTHING

Three little vessels-the Susan Constant, the Godspeed, and the Discovery-left England in December, 1606, under the command of Captain Christopher Newport, to found a colony on the distant shores of Virginia. Two decades earlier Sir Walter Raleigh had sent out a group of settlers to what is now North Carolina, and they had disappeared mysteriously. What had happened to them? men asked. Had they been killed by the Indians? Had they fallen victims to disease? Had they starved? Those who shared in this new venture must have wondered if a like fate awaited them in this strange new land.

But their spirits rose when they entered Chesapeake Bay. Landing parties were delighted with the "fair meddowes ... full of flowers of divers kinds and colors," the "goodly tall trees," and the streams of fresh water. It was a smiling country which seemed to bid them welcome. But when they entered the mouth of a broad river, which they called the James in honor of their King, and made their way up into the country, new doubts must have assailed them. They knew that savages lived in the dense forests which lined both banks; might not strange wild beasts live there also? Might there not be fatal diseases unknown in Europe?

Possibly they wondered what type of government Englishmen would live under here. In the charter granted the Virginia Company of London in 1606 it was promised that they should "enjoy all the liberties, franchises, and immunities" of Englishmen, "as if they had been abiding" in England. Even without this promise they would have taken it for granted that they were not surrendering the freedom derived from their ancestors. This was the view taken six decades later by Francis Moryson and Thomas Ludwell, agents for the colony. If the King planted a colony of Englishmen, they and their heirs ought by law to enjoy the "same liberties and privileges as Englishmen in England." After all, the colony would be but "an extension or dilation of the realm of England."[1]

The men who came to Virginia had, in the mother country, participated in the government through representatives of their own choosing, so they insisted upon this right in their new home. They claimed, also, the habeas corpus, jury trial, and freedom from taxation save by their own consent. In England not even the King could take a man's money legally until it had been granted by the House of Commons. Upon this recognized principle English liberty was chiefly based; upon its acceptance in America depended the future of liberty there.

Yet when the first band of settlers stepped ashore at Jamestown, liberty in England still hung in the balance. At the conclusion of the Wars of the Roses the King was almost absolute. The people were desperately tired of anarchy; they were tired also of the oppressions of the barons. So long as the King put an end to both they had no desire to limit his power. The Commons ate out of his hand. Henry VIII might tear the Church from the Roman see, Mary might restore it, Edward might once more break with Rome-in each case the people submitted. Those who dared resist faced the headsman's block or the pyre.

But in time the memory of the Wars of the Roses grew dim. And the growth of the artisan class, the development of trade, the birth of a great literature, the work of the universities, the expansion of world horizons fired the imagination and awakened men to their own potentialities. Self-government is a tender plant which withers in the soil of poverty and ignorance, and it was the advance of prosperity and enlightenment under the Tudors which made possible the flowering of liberty under the Stuarts.

James I had been on the throne only three years when the little town which bore his name was founded. James has been called the wisest fool in Christendom; but he was neither wise nor a fool. His conception of the King's office was logical and simple. It was his function to rule; the duty of the people was to obey. If they did not, like bad children they should be scolded and perhaps punished, since it was not only illegal but wicked to question the King's authority. "As to dispute what God may do is blasphemy, so it is sedition in subjects to dispute what a King may do," he said. Parliament he considered a nuisance. "I am surprised that my ancestors should have permitted such an institution to come into existence," he said. "I am a stranger and found it here when I arrived, so that I am obliged to put up with what I cannot get rid of."[2]

The House of Commons were not inclined to accept the King's theory of the relations between himself and Parliament. When James told them that they had no privileges save by royal grace, they replied that he had been misinformed. When in answer to James' demand that they refrain from meddling in foreign affairs, they entered on their journal a protestation of their right of free speech, he was so enraged that he sent for the book and with his own hands tore out the page.

The Commons considered it a precious privilege to be "governed by certain rules of law ... and not by uncertain or arbitrary form of government." There is a general fear among the people, they told James, that royal proclamations might eventually assume the nature of laws. Then their ancient freedom would be abridged, "if not quite taken away," and "a new form of arbitrary government" brought on the realm.

The conflict between King and Parliament foreshadowed the conflict between the Governors and the people of the colonies. The provincial Assemblies were not less determined to resist any infringement on their rights than was Parliament. And the fortunes of the contending forces in the mother country affected profoundly those in the colonies. Echoes of the First Stuart Despotism, the Civil War and Commonwealth, the Restoration, the Second Stuart Despotism, the Glorious Revolution, the laissez-faire period, and the reaction under George III reverberated in the colonies.

But the development of self-government in America was by no means entirely dependent upon events in England. There were forces in the New World which favored democracy. The wide spaces of the frontier made men self-reliant and resourceful and impatient of control by a distant monarch, ever ready to defend old rights, quick to demand new ones. "People remote from the seat of government are always remarkable for their disobedience," wrote Governor Gooch, in 1732.[3] As the historian Foote has pointed out, they and "their children were republicans; in England they would have been styled rebels."

The creating of a vast middle class in the colonies also tended toward democracy. The men who turned their backs on the homes of their ancestors to start life over again in the tobacco fields of Virginia were, most of them, desperately poor. Many came under terms of indenture. But they had, prior to the introduction of slaves in large numbers, every opportunity to rise. As a result there emerged a vigorous, intelligent, freedom-loving yeomanry, who had a profound influence in winning self-government.

But the victory at first seemed to be with the King. When James granted a charter to the Virginia Company of London, he took care that it should include no provision for representative government. Instead he kept the control of the proposed colony in his own hands. There was to be a Council resident in England appointed by him and responsible to him. This body was to name another Council which was to reside in Virginia and administer the "Articles, Instructions, and Orders" which the King drew up with his own hand. In practice this body assumed administrative, legislative, and judicial powers, and ruled the infant colony by their own arbitrary will.[4]

Not only was this constitution undemocratic, but it proved inefficient. Had the Council in England made better selections for the Council in Virginia, the colony would have been saved much disorder and suffering. But never was there a more quarrelsome set of men. The fleet had been at sea but a few days when Captain John Smith was accused of plotting to overthrow the government and murder his associates, and was kept in prison below decks. Only some weeks after the landing at Jamestown was he released and permitted to take his seat on the Council.[5]

On the Council with him were Captain Christopher Newport, Edward Wingfield, Bartholomew Gosnold, George Kendall, John Ratcliffe, and John Martin. One would think that this little group, set down in the wilderness and faced with many perils, would have occupied their time better than with plotting against each other. They had enough to do to defend themselves against the Indians, for in a sudden attack four of them were wounded and another had a narrow escape when an arrow passed through his beard.[6]

Kendall was the first to be expelled from the Council. Gosnold died. Wingfield, who was President of the Council, was accused of being an atheist, of plotting to desert the colony, and of misappropriating public funds, and was ousted from his seat. Since Newport had sailed with the fleet for England, Ratcliffe, Smith, and Martin were now the only remaining Councillors. But this did not bring harmony. Kendall was accused of plotting against the other two, tried, and hanged. Smith, too, was in danger of the gallows, when he was held responsible for the death of two men who had been killed by the Indians. Were the "whipping, lawing, beating, and hanging in Virginia known in England, I fear it would drive many well affected minds from this honorable action," Wingfield stated after his return to England. With the drowning of two new Councillors, Captain John Smith alone remained, and for several months was the sole ruler of the colony.[7]

When word of what was going on in Virginia reached the London Company it was obvious to all that the original plan of government had proved a failure. So they secured a new charter empowering them to change it. But for a remedy they turned, not to self-government, but to despotism. They abolished the old Council, and turned the colony over to a Governor who, within the limits of his instructions, was to "rule and govern by his own discretion or by such laws" as he should decree. To assist him he was to choose an advisory Council.

The danger of this system was at first obscured by the wise choice of a Governor. Thomas Lord De la Warr was a man of distinction and ability. He had studied at the Queen's College, Oxford, had served with Essex in Ireland, and had been a member of the Privy Council under both Elizabeth and James.[8]

Upon landing at Jamestown, De la Warr listened to a sermon by the good minister, Mr. Buck. He then addressed the people, "laying some blames on them," and promising, if forced to it, to draw the sword of justice. But there seems to have been no need for this. The people, forgetting former quarrels, were united in their efforts to serve their Governor and bring a degree of prosperity to the colony. The sound of hammering and sawing was heard on all sides as little houses were built, the fort repaired, the church restored. "Every Sunday, when the Lord Governor went to church, he was accompanied by all the Councillors, Captains, and other officers, and all the gentlemen, and with a band of fifty halberdiers in his Lordships livery, fair red cloaks, on each side and behind him. The Lord Governor sat in the choir in a green velvet chair, with a velvet cushion before him on which he knelt."[9]

But that Lord De la Warr proved to be a mild and just Governor by no means obscures the evils inherent in absolutism. A good ruler may be succeeded by a bad one. In ancient Rome the people benefited by the establishing of law and order under the great Augustus, but they suffered from the cruelty of the insane Caligula and the dissolute Nero. So it boded no good for Virginia when De la Warr fell ill. "I was welcomed by a hot and violent ague," he tells us. This was followed by an attack of dysentery. "Then the cramp assaulted my weak body with strong pains, and afterward the gout." Finally scurvy came to add to his woes, so that he "was upon the point to leave this world." In desperation he set sail for the West Indies in the hope of recovering his health.[10]

A few weeks after De la Warr's departure Sir Thomas Gates assumed command of the colony. In 1614 he, in turn, was followed by Sir Thomas Dale, Dale by Captain George Yeardley, and Yeardley by Samuel Argall. When Gates was in Virginia in 1610 he had brought with him certain laws, orders, and instructions which he posted in the church at Jamestown. As the people crowded into the little building to read them they must have expressed their resentment and horror, for the laws were more suited to a penal colony than to a community of free Englishmen. In 1611 Dale brought additional laws, and the whole body was revised in England and published. Gates and Dale had both served with the English army in the Netherlands, and these laws were "chiefly extracted out of the laws for governing the army" there.

It was ordered that "every man and woman daily twice a day upon the first tolling of the bell shall upon the working days repair into the church to hear divine service upon pain of losing his or her day's allowance for the first omission, for the second to be whipped, for the third to be condemned to the galleys for six months." Equally severe was the law that "no man shall give any disgraceful words or commit any act to the disgrace of any person ... upon pain of being tied head and feet together upon the guard every night for the space of one month." To kill any cattle, or horse, goat, or pig, or chicken without leave was punishable with death. No doubt conducive to health but not to liberty was the order that no man or woman should wash linen or pots and pans "within twenty foot of the old well ... upon pain of whipping."[11]

De la Warr was a humane man, who thought that order could be maintained without cruelty. Gates, also, seems not to have enforced the severe laws. But the situation changed when Dale, and after him Argall assumed power. These two men were guilty of reigns of terror that would have shamed an Ivan the Terrible or a Hitler. The Virginia Assembly of 1624 testified that the colony suffered "under most severe and cruel laws sent over in print," contrary to the King's promise. And these laws were "mercilessly executed, often times without trial or judgment." Some who sought relief by fleeing to the Indians were captured and executed, either by hanging, or shooting, or even by being broken on the wheel. One man who had stolen some oatmeal had a knife thrust through his tongue, and then was tied to a tree where he was left to starve. In 1612 several men tried to steal a barge and a shallop in order to risk their lives in a desperate attempt to reach England. For this they were "shot to death, hanged and broken upon the wheel."[12]

But better things were in store. Many of the leading spirits of the London Company, who "stood best affected to religion and liberty" were "distasted with the proceedings of the Court." This group began now to dream of migrating to Virginia to set up a government there which would be sympathetic with their views. "Many worthy patriots, lords, knights, gentlemen, merchants, and others ... laid hold on ... Virginia as a providence cast before them."[13] Had not the Pilgrim fathers shown the way to New England a few years later, it might have been in Virginia rather than in Massachusetts that the Bible commonwealth was established.

Prominent among the liberal faction in the Company was Sir Edwin Sandys. In his youth he had studied at Corpus Christi, Oxford, under Richard Hooker, the future founder of Connecticut, and this ardent Puritan influenced profoundly his views and career. It was from Hooker that he got the theory that the King derived his authority from a contract with the people, and not by divine right. Later, when as a member of the Commons he enunciated this theory, he drew down on his head James' bitter hatred. Sandys, who had long been a member of the Council of the London Company, was elected to the important post of Treasurer in 1617. To prevent his re-election three years later, the King sent the names of four other men to the Company with the demand that they elect one of them. When the Company sent a delegation to him to protest against this interference with their affairs, James blurted out: "Choose the devil if you will, but not Sir Edwin Sandys."

Sandys seems to have planned to secure successive charters, each granting the Company greater powers than its predecessor, under the pretext that this was necessary for the success of the enterprise. The second charter, granted in 1609, is of especial importance because by it the King resigned the immediate control of the colony into the hands of the Company. The charter of 1612 still further strengthened their hands.

But the Sandys faction met strenuous opposition in the Company itself. Many of the stockholders thought it a mistake to involve the Company in the political and religious struggle which was convulsing the nation. At times the Quarter Courts resounded with the angry debates of the contending parties. A momentous struggle it was, since upon the outcome depended the establishing of self-government in America. So there was rejoicing among the liberal party when Sandys was victorious.

It is probable that Sandys drew up with his own hand what has been called the Magna Carta of Virginia in the fall of 1617, granting the colony the right to representative government. Lord De la Warr, who was still the Governor, had expected to leave at that time with this famous document. But his sailing was delayed until April, 1618. Unfortunately De la Warr, who probably had never fully recovered his health, became ill during the voyage and died.

When news of De la Warr's death reached the London Company, they chose Captain George Yeardley to be his successor. In January, 1619, Yeardley sailed from England with several documents, probably duplicates of the Magna Carta, authorizing him to hold an election for a General Assembly.[14] His instructions have been preserved, but his commission, or constitution for the colony, has been lost. Yet undoubtedly it was similar to, if not identical with the Magna Carta of 1617, and with the "Ordinance and Constitution" of July 24, 1621, given Sir Francis Wyatt.

This constitution called for a Council to be chosen from time to time by the Company to assist the Governor in maintaining the "people in justice and Christian conversation amongst themselves, and in strength and ability to withstand their enemies." Another body "to be called by the Governor once yearly and no oftener but for very extraordinary and important occasions, shall consist for the present of the said Council of State, and two Burgesses out of every town, hundred, or other particular plantation, to be respectively chosen by the inhabitants." This body, which was called the General Assembly, was to "have free power to treat, consult, and conclude, as well of all emergent occasions concerning the public weal of the said colony ... as also to make, ordain, and enact such general laws and orders ... as shall from time to time appear necessary." To the Governor was reserved a negative voice.

The Governor and Assembly were directed "to imitate and follow the form of government, laws, customs, and manner of trial, and other ministration of justice used in the realm of England." And a limit was put to the authority of the Assembly by a provision that no law should "continue in force" unless ratified by the Company. But a degree of independence was granted in the instruction that "after the government of the said colony shall once have been framed ... no orders of court afterwards shall bind the said colony, unless they be ratified in like manner in the General Assemblies."[15]

There must have been rejoicing in Virginia when Yeardley arrived with orders "for the better establishing a commonwealth." Perhaps there were cheers, perhaps tears of joy in the crowd which assembled in Jamestown to listen to his proclamation. It promised that those cruel laws by which they had so long been governed were now abrogated, and that they were to be governed by those free laws which his Majesty's subjects in England lived under.[16]

On August 9, 1619, the first representative assembly in American history met in the crude little church at Jamestown. When Governor Yeardley had taken his seat in the choir, the members of the Council sat beside him, some on one side, some on the other. "But forasmuch as men's affairs do little prosper when God's service is neglected, all the Burgesses took their places in the choir till a prayer was said by Mr. Buck, the minister." Then the Burgesses were called in order by name, and so every man took the oath of supremacy.[17]

The Assembly assumed from the first that it was to be the Parliament of Virginia. But they realized that they must make no laws which contravened those of England, or the charter, or the instructions of the London Company. During the first session, acts were passed concerning the Church, Indian affairs, land patents, morality, prices, trade, etc. But by far the most important law was one ordering "that every man and man servant above sixteen years of age shall pay into the hands and custody of the Burgesses ... one pound of the best tobacco."[18]

The control of taxation by the representatives of the people was to play a vital role in the development of self-government in America. It was based on the fact, universally recognized by Englishmen, that no power had the right to take a man's property without his own consent. A century after the first session of the Virginia Assembly the New York Assembly reminded Governor Robert Hunter that their inherent right "to dispose of the money of the freemen" did "not proceed from any commission, letters patent, or other grant from the Crown, but from the free choice and election of the people, who ought not to be divested of their property (nor justly can) without their consent." Similarly the Virginia House of Burgesses declared: "The rights of the subjects are so secured by law that they cannot be deprived of the least part of their property but by their own consent."

The Virginia Assembly of 1619, when they assumed the right to tax the people, probably did not realize that they were laying the cornerstone of the structure of American liberty. Yet it was the control of taxation by the representatives of the people in all the colonies which made it possible to win victory after victory over the royal Governors. It is an old saying that one dare not quarrel with one's paymaster. Yet that was just what most of the Governors had to do. They needed money, money to cover their own salaries, money with which to pay other government officials, money to raise and equip men to fight the Indians, or the Dutch, or the French. The price they had to pay was a part of the royal prerogative.

It is to be noted that the money raised by the levy of 1619 in Virginia was to be paid, not to the Governor or to a Treasurer appointed by the Governor, but to the Burgesses. The question of who was to receive the revenues and who to decide upon their use was second in importance only to who had the right to levy taxes. It was to give rise to many disputes between Governors and Burgesses.

The people of Virginia in their happiness in the setting up of representative government seem to have overlooked the King's hostility. But they could not have expected him to assent meekly to the duplication in the infant colony of the Parliament, the body which was causing him so much trouble and vexation. They might have been warned of what was coming when James threw Sir Edwin Sandys in the Tower.

This was followed by a frontal assault on the London Company. John Ferrar wrote: "The King, notwithstanding his royal word and honor pledged to the contrary ... was now determined with all his force to ... give the death blow...."[19] He began by ordering a certain Nathaniel Butler to write a pamphlet describing conditions in Virginia. In his Unmasking of Virginia, as he called it, Butler drew a vivid picture of the suffering of the people from disease, hunger, and the Indians. In reply the Company published A True Answer, explaining the misfortunes which had plagued the colony, and denying responsibility for them.[20]

The King now appointed a commission to inquire into "all abuses and grievances" in Virginia. In July, 1623, this body reported that most of the people sent to the colony were now dead, and that the blame must rest on the Company. "If his Majesty's first grant of April 10, 1606, ... had been pursued, much better effects had been produced than had been by the alteration thereof into so popular a course."[21] The King was elated. He was determined, he said, to "resume the government, and ... reduce that popular form so as to make it agree with the monarchical form."

Should the Company agree, he was willing for them to retain their charter. But he told them that he was resolved "by a new charter to appoint a Governor and twelve assistants, resident here in England, unto whom shall be committed the government." These assistants were to appoint a Governor and twelve assistants to reside in Virginia, "whereby all matters of importance may be directed by his Majesty."[22] In essence this was the original plan of 1606. There was "hot debate" in the Company when they met to consider this proposal. Every man present knew that the fate of the Company hung in the balance. Yet when the King's offer was put to the vote, it was rejected by an overwhelming majority.[23]

The Company now appealed to the House of Commons. But before the Commons could act a message came from the King warning them not to meddle in the affair. "Ourselves will make it our work to settle the quiet and welfare of the plantations," he said. So, with some "soft mutterings," they submitted.

The people of Virginia waited impatiently for the outcome of the struggle which concerned them so deeply. When in March, 1624, the Southampton arrived with word that James was determined to change the government, they were in despair. Was liberty to be overthrown? Were they to be subjected again to the brutality of a Dale or an Argall? They wrote the Privy Council praying that future Governors should not have absolute authority. "But above all we humbly entreat your Lordships that we may retain the liberty of our General Assembly, than which nothing can more conduce to our satisfaction or the public utility."[24]

If this letter ever reached the Privy Council, it did not stay the King's hand. Attorney General Coventry had already issued a quo warranto against the Company. Sandys and others fought the case before the King's Bench, but the outcome was foregone. On June 26, 1624, the charter was overthrown and Virginia became a royal colony.