The Burgesses, as the members of the colonial Assembly were called, unintimidated by this exercise of the royal prerogative, repaired, in a body, to a private house. They were no longer the House of Burgesses, but merely a collection of citizens. They chose for moderator their late speaker, Peyton Randolph.[66] Washington then presented his draft of an association to discountenance the use of all British merchandise, taxed by Parliament to raise a revenue in America. It was signed by every member. Then, being printed, it was sent throughout the country, and to other colonies, and soon became almost universally adopted.

The king and parliament were not alarmed; they were only astonished to see that the helpless worm should have presumption thus to squirm beneath their gigantic tread. Lord Botetourt soon began to feel the influence of the society which surrounded him. He found that the opulent, highly cultivated gentlemen of Virginia, were quite his equals; that they were men who could not be dazzled from their paths, by any display of ribbons and gilding and courtly pomp.

Nay, more than this; he soon began to feel the power of their superior intelligence. As he listened to their courteous and logical representations, he became convinced that their cause was a just one; that their grievances were many, and that he had entered upon his office, with entirely erroneous impressions respecting the true posture of affairs. His pompous equipage was laid aside. He reduced his establishment to the simplicity of that of a well bred gentleman. He even did not hesitate to declare that the taxes ought to be repealed, and that sundry other reforms were called for.

In Boston, a committee called upon the royal governor to state that the General Court could not deliberate, with self-respect, when the State House was surrounded by soldiers, and cannon were pointed at its doors, and men-of-war were in the harbor, with their guns directed menacingly against the town. They requested therefore that the governor, as the representative of his majesty the king, would have such forces removed from Boston during the session of the court.

The governor curtly replied, “I have no authority to order the removal of either ships or troops.”

The General Court responded firmly but respectfully, “The General Court cannot then undertake to transact any business, while thus menaced by cannon and muskets.”

The governor was embarrassed. There was business of pressing importance to come before the court. He endeavored to extricate himself by ordering the court to meet in Cambridge, beyond the reach of the guns of the fleet, and where there were no troops. The court met, and the governor immediately sent in a requisition for money to pay to British soldiers, and for quarters to be assigned for their board and lodging.

The blood of the Puritan was as red and pure as that of his equally patriotic brother the Cavalier. After a solemn discussion, for it was a solemn moment, involving issues of fearful magnitude, these noble men returned an answer, in brief as follows:

“The establishment of a standing army in this colony, in a time of peace, is an invasion of our natural rights.”

There was no offer to provide for these British regulars, and no refusal to do so, save what might be implied in the resolve. The governor again sent to know whether the Assembly would or would not make provision for the British troops. The decisive reply was returned that it was “incompatible with their own honor and interest, and their duty to their constituents,” to pay the expenses of British soldiers thus unconstitutionally billeted upon the American people.