The Glorious Revolution completely changed the relations between the English people and the King. No sooner had James fled than a committee of the Commons drew up a "Declaration of Rights," to secure the liberty of the subjects and the power of Parliament, which was accepted by both Houses and by William. Parliament then declared William and Mary joint monarchs. Mary could argue that as the child of James II she was the rightful heir to the Throne, but William could make no such claim. So the old Tory doctrine of divine right was officially repudiated, and the monarch henceforth ruled by the consent of the nation. The Revolution opened a new epoch of liberty.

The people of Virginia were well aware that they were to share in this liberty. In an address to the King and Queen, the Assembly gave them heartfelt thanks for "so magnanimously exposing" their persons in rescuing them, their religion, laws, and liberties from the twin evils of slavery and popery. They begged them, while extending their justice and goodness over the English nation, not to forget their faithful subjects in Virginia. They, too, were "descended of Englishmen," and had the right to enjoy "the just and lawful liberties and privileges of free born" Englishmen.[1]

In this they were not disappointed. During the next seventy-five years they advanced steadily along the road to liberty. From time to time they had to contend with despotically inclined Governors, but these men, prior to the reign of George III, in assailing the rights of the people acted on their own initiative rather than at the command of the King. By the middle of the eighteenth century Virginia had become in internal affairs practically a self-governing dominion. People began to say openly that final authority rested, not with the King, but with the people, and that governments derived their powers from the consent of the governed.

This trend was noted early in the eighteenth century. As early as 1706 Colonel Quary warned the English government of what was coming. A few years later Governor Spotswood wrote: "If the ancient and legal rights of the Crown must give place to the later customs of an infant colony, especially if the practice and usage which ... men would introduce shall be of greater force, the prince's power and authority must daily lose ground here."[2]

It was a slow, almost imperceptible process. But year after year the Burgesses whittled away at the powers of the Governor, until, after the passage of decades, the change became apparent to all. Berkeley, Culpeper, and Effingham had exercised almost dictatorial powers; Gooch, Fauquier, and Botetourt ate out of the hands of the Assembly. Whereas the Governors of the seventeenth century commanded and threatened, those of the mid-eighteenth century pleaded. On one occasion Governor Fauquier wrote the Lords of Trade that he had signed a bill, not because he approved of it, but because had he vetoed it he "must have despaired of ever gaining any influence either in the Council or House of Burgesses."

The shouting and firing of guns in celebration of the accession of William and Mary had hardly ended when the Virginians turned their thoughts to the long desired new charter. The Bill of Rights gave them as well as Englishmen residing in England guarantees of liberty, but they had distinctive interests which they thought ought to be protected. Appointing Jeffrey Jeffreys to manage the affair, the Council and Burgesses sent him £200 for expenses and suggested that he call to his support any Virginians who chanced to be in London. That the art of lobbying was as well understood in the seventeenth century as it is today is shown by their instruction "to procure the assistance ... of the nobility and such as have offices at Whitehall and other men of note ... to be mediators with their Majesties."[3]

The proposed charter was to confirm the authority of the Assembly. At first sight this would seem to be unnecessary since the Assembly had been in existence since 1619, and had been recognized by James I, Charles I, Charles II, and James II. But the attempts to undermine its authority during the Second Stuart Despotism had convinced the people that its very existence might be threatened by some future King.

They asked, also, that in the charter it be promised "that no tax be made upon this country but by the consent of the Assembly." The people had been deeply disappointed that a like promise had been left out of the charter of 1676. They took for granted that Parliament would not violate their rights as Englishmen by taxing them, but it would have comforted them to have it down in black and white. How necessary such a guarantee was became apparent eighty-five years later with the passage of the Stamp Act.

The charter was to promise, also, that the King and Queen would continue to the Virginians and their descendants their rights as natural born subjects of England, and that as "near as may be" they should be governed after the same method as Englishmen, and "have the full benefit of the Great Charter and all other laws and statutes indulging the liberty of the subjects." Jeffreys was to ask that "the ancient method" of making appeals from the General Court to the Assembly be restored, since appeals to the Privy Council were in most cases impractical because of the expense involved and the difficulty of bringing "evidences, papers, and other records" to England.[4]

We do not know why the application for the charter was dropped. It may have been because Jeffreys found that it would not meet with success, or the Assembly may have been persuaded that a charter was unnecessary under the liberal administration of the new monarchs.