It seems that the Assembly, in 1748 and 1749, had made a laborious revision of the laws. The completed work, in sixty-seven acts, they sent to the King so that he could review them. But it was not anticipated that he would either veto or sign any of them. So there was consternation when Dinwiddie reported that the King in Council had signed fifty-seven of the revised laws and vetoed ten. Of the latter, two—one declaring slaves personal property and the other setting up the General Court—were of great importance. Each House drew up an address to the King pleading with him to reconsider his action. When Dinwiddie promised to endorse and deliver them, Councillors and Burgesses alike were grateful. Before dispersing they voted him a gift of £500, which Dinwiddie, despite his instructions seems to have accepted.[1]
But the honeymoon was of short duration. Before Dinwiddie left England he was entrusted with a new seal for Virginia. It was this, no doubt, which gave him the idea of adding to his income by charging a pistole for signing patents for land and affixing the seal. Had he been aware of the storm raised by the similar attempt by Lord Effingham sixty-four years earlier, he would have known what was in store for him. The Council, too, seem to have been forgetful in this matter, for when the Governor asked their opinion, they advised him to go ahead.[2]
When the Assembly met in November, 1753, Dinwiddie told them that a large body of French regulars, accompanied by Indian allies, had marched down from Canada into the Ohio region and had built a fort there. The King had commanded him to lay before them a request for funds to defeat their designs, and to purchase gifts for the friendly Indians.
The Burgesses were fully aware of the danger. For the French to build a chain of forts on the Monongahela and the Ohio to connect with those on the Mississippi would make a barrier to further expansion of the English colonies to the west. It would also constitute an ever present threat to their frontier, since in future wars the way would be open to forays of hostile Indians. Such men as Joshua Fry, Edmund Pendleton, John Robinson, and Benjamin Harrison may have realized that the fate of Virginia and of all English North America hung in the balance.
But for the moment the Burgesses were more interested in preserving their liberty than their safety. They began by considering the complaints of several counties against the pistole fee. Dinwiddie accused the Reverend William Stith, President of the College of William and Mary, of inciting the people against the fee. Stith was his personal enemy, he thought, because he had opposed his appointment as Commissary of the clergy.[3] So he wrote to the Bishop of London suggesting that if he would advise Stith "to be peaceable and quiet and teach the doctrine of love," it would make him more easy in his government.[4] If it was Stith who aroused the people against the pistole fee, he made a good job of it. Henrico County protested, Chesterfield protested, Albemarle protested, Cumberland, Amelia, Dinwiddie Counties protested.
Governor Dinwiddie. Portrait in the National Portrait Gallery of London. Reproduced by permission.
The General Court in the Old Capitol at Williamsburg. Courtesy of Colonial Williamsburg, Inc.
The Burgesses were deeply concerned. In an address to the Lieutenant Governor they declared that their duty in the discharge of the trust reposed in them by the people required them to ask him by what authority he demanded the fee. He replied that he had acted on his own authority, with the advice of the Council. And he intimated that the taking of the fee was a thing that did not concern them.