Local government was administered by the county courts. Hartwell, Blair, and Chilton wrote: "There is a county court in every county, which consists of eight or ten gentlemen ... to whom the Governor gives a commission during pleasure to be justices of the peace for that county. He renews that commission commonly every year, for that ... gives him an opportunity to admit into it new favorites and exclude others that have not been so zealous in his service.... They have court once a month, ... and have a power of deciding all sorts of causes."[31] But they did not have jurisdiction in cases involving loss of life or limb.
That the people had no voice in selecting the justices was greatly resented, especially since the courts had the power of levying taxes. The people of Charles City County complained in 1677 that the justices had "illegally ... taken upon them without our consent from time to time to impose, raise, assess, and levy what taxes, levies, and impositions upon us ... they liked, great part of which they have converted to their own use."[32] The people of Surry County made a similar complaint: "It has been the custom of the county courts at the laying of the levy to withdraw into a private room by which the poor people not knowing for what they paid their levy did always admire how their taxes could be so high."[33]
In each county was one or more parishes, presided over by a vestry of twelve men each. Since the vestry had the right to lay the parish levy, it was of great importance that they should be elected by the people. This was the practice until Berkeley's second administration, when it became the custom for a vestry, when once chosen at the establishing of a new parish, themselves to fill vacancies in their ranks, and thus to become self-perpetuating.
Hartwell, Blair, and Chilton thought it deplorable that the vestries habitually refused to present their ministers for induction, so that they could "keep them in more subjection." This was such a hardship on the clergy that none who "were informed of it would come into the country." When one did come, he would have to be wary of preaching against any vices "that any great man of his vestry was guilty of," for fear of losing his place.[34] Yet the vestries themselves were supposed to be the guardians of the morals of the parishioners. In 1648 a vestry in Northampton found the wife of a prominent citizen guilty of adultery, and ordered the minister and church warden to present her to the county court for punishment.
The most eagerly sought after offices in the colony were those of President of the Council, Secretary of State, Attorney General, Auditor, and Treasurer. It was the custom for the senior member of the Council in point of service to become President when the office of the Governor was temporarily vacant.[35] This was an unsatisfactory arrangement since it might happen that the senior Councillor was too old to take on important and arduous duties. In 1749, when Governor Gooch was about to leave for England, it was decided by the Council that Colonel John Custis, the senior member, was "utterly incapable of managing the business of the government."[36] At their request the Governor suspended him from the Council, so that Thomas Lee, next in order of seniority, could become President.
The Secretary of State was appointed by the King. Until 1723 he held office only "during the pleasure" of the Governor, but thereafter for life. The Secretary claimed the right to appoint the clerks of the county courts, who acted as his deputies, and paid him a percentage of the income from fees arising from lawsuits and other court proceedings. But he seldom made an appointment "without the Governor's knowledge and good liking."
Contemporary writers agree that the Secretary's office was a jungle of court records, surveys, commissions, deeds for land, probates of wills, writs of elections, marriage certificates, etc. If we may believe Benjamin Harrison it was usually in wild confusion. "Nothing hath been more common of late years than to hear people complain that they could not find the records of their patents or other deeds for their lands."[37] Apparently all kinds of documents were piled up together instead of being sorted and filed separately. "It is almost impossible to give a full and perfect account of the Secretary's office, there is such a medley in it that its scarce credible," wrote Hartwell, Blair, and Chilton.
The Auditor for Virginia was appointed by the Auditor of the Plantations, usually upon the recommendation of the Governor. This officer audited the accounts of the quit rents, the export duty, escheats, etc., certified their accuracy, and reported to England. He received 7½ per cent of all the monies passing through his hands. There seems to have been great laxness at times in the handling of funds. When Auditor William Byrd died in December, 1704, it was found that the account was overdrawn by £7,698.9.10.[38] It is not surprising that Governor Nicholson, while waiting for William Blathwait, the Auditor of the Plantations, to appoint Byrd's successor, decided to "take that trouble" on himself.[39]
Philip Ludwell, who was made Auditor in 1712, seems to have been just as careless as Byrd. In December, 1715, Governor Spotswood called the attention of the Council to the confusion in his office. "Only gross sums are entered in one general account," he said, "and the particular accounts of the receivers ... only kept in loose papers."[40] When he recommended several reforms, Ludwell told him in effect to mind his own business, and that he would take orders only from the Auditor General. Thereupon Spotswood suspended him from his office. Ludwell came back with a letter "stuffed with virulent invectives," denying the legality of this action.
Prior to 1691 the Treasurer was appointed by the Governor, but that year the Burgesses claimed the right of naming him, and despite the opposition of the Governors, eventually had their way. The Treasurer received the funds from various taxes and made up the accounts. He received six per cent of the money collected.