Give Me Liberty: The Struggle for Self-Government in Virginia

by Thomas Jefferson Wertenbaker

Whatever is the explanation of the change in Berkeley's character, it obviously was the Civil War in England, the execution of Charles I, and the turmoil of the Commonwealth period which intensified his distrust of republican institutions. They had been tried and the experiment had ended in disastrous failure. True, he had been a witness of the success of self-government in Virginia, but this did not change his views. Monarchy was the form of government ordained by God. In Virginia it was he, as the King's representative, who should rule. So he was determined that there should be no more republicanism in the colony than his instructions required.

Berkeley did not attempt the barefaced disregard of law practiced by Harvey. His methods were more subtile. He sought to make men obedient to his will by holding out to them offices of profit or honor. The people of Charles City County complained that Sir William, "aspiring to a sole and absolute power over us ... greatly neglecting the Council ... did take upon him the sole naming and appointing of other persons in their room and place such as himself best liked and thought fittest for his purposes."[2] The men who sat around the Council table with him might perhaps venture an opinion now and then, but they dared not arouse his brittle temper by opposing him when once he had made up his mind. To do so might lose one a collector's place, or a colonelship in the militia, or even one's seat on the Council.

The situation in the House of Burgesses was similar. Berkeley was shameless in corrupting the representatives of the people by handing out jobs. It was testified that he took on himself the sole appointment of all officers, military as well as civil. Offices were created merely "to increase the number of his party ... all which offices he bestowed on such persons, how unfit or unskilful soever, he conceived would be most for his designs." Thus, by a skilful use of the patronage, he so gained upon and obliged all or the greatest number of men of parts and estates "as to ... do whatsoever he pleased."[3]

If a Burgess voted as Sir William wished, he could count on perhaps a sheriff's place, perhaps a collector's place, almost certainly a commission in the militia. If the Burgesses of 1666 wore their uniforms when they took their seats, the session must have assumed a military aspect, for, of the thirty who attended, six were colonels, two lieutenant colonels, one major, and fourteen captains.

Having in this way made a majority of the Burgesses subservient to his will, Berkeley used his right of prorogation to retain them indefinitely. In this bit of political strategy he could justify himself with the thought that he had the example of his royal master. The Long Assembly of Virginia was the counterpart of the Long Parliament of England. For sixteen years he refused to hold a general election, and he probably congratulated himself that in the colony there was but a mockery of self-government. The Burgesses might betray the interests of the people with impunity; they could not be made to answer at the polls. So it was with bitterness that the people paid their taxes for the salaries of men over whom they had no control. The people of Charles City County complained that their representatives had been "overswayed by the power and prevalency" of Berkeley and his Council, and had neglected their grievances.[4]

As Sir William was supreme in the Assembly, so he was supreme in local government. The justices of the county courts were his appointees. The well-paid sheriffs' office, which he made the stepping stone to the House of Burgesses, was his to fill. So the county courts, in exercising their judicial, legislative, and executive powers, dared not act contrary to his will.

Berkeley had prided himself on having won the affection of the people in his first administration. One wonders whether he realized that this affection was turning to hatred. Nathaniel Bacon accused him of enriching a few favorites at the expense of the people, and of glaring injustice to individual men. "All the power and sway is got into the hands of the rich, who by extortious advantages ... have curbed and oppressed them in all manner of ways," Bacon wrote in a fiery manifesto.[5] The constant breach of laws, unjust prosecutions, excuses, and evasions, showed that the men in power were running the government "as if it were but to play a booty, game, or divide a spoil." Nor was there any hope of redress, for to lay the people's grievances before the House of Burgesses was to appeal "to the very persons our complaints do accuse."[6]

Some of the Burgesses, as well as the members of the Council, could expect large grants of land if they were in the Governor's good graces. "Some take up 2,000 acres, some 3,000, and others 10,000, and many more have taken up 30,000," it was said. Unable to cultivate such vast tracts, they merely built little shacks, or perhaps "hog houses" on them so as not to forfeit the deed. When the soil of the little farms of the poor began to wear out, or when new settlers arrived, the only available land was on the frontier. Here they made a precarious living on "barren lands" where they were in constant danger from the Indians.[7]

But the most urgent complaint was of the heavy load of taxes. When the sheriff came to the poor planter to demand a part of his little crop of tobacco, he wanted to know to what use it would be put. He knew that a goodly share went to Governor Berkeley, some to the Councillors, some to pay the salaries of the Burgesses, but much was not accounted for. When the members of the county courts retired into a private room to lay the local levy, there were angry murmurs of fraud. Of course they will not tell us what the taxes are for, because part of the money they put in their own pockets, it was said.

Bacon echoed these charges. "See what sponges have sucked up the public wealth, and whether it hath not been privately contrived away by unworthy favorites, by vile juggling parasites whose tottering fortunes have been repaired and supported."[8] And the small farmer cursed as Lady Berkeley drove by in her coach, or when they viewed the Governor's wide acres, his six houses, his four hundred cattle, his great flock of sheep, his sixty horses, his well-filled barns. Few had ever seen his costly plate, but its fame must have been spread abroad.[9]