Nor is it true that the people voluntarily surrendered this power by acknowledging the authority of Charles II before the actual restoration in England. After the death of Cromwell, when the affairs of the mother country were in chaos and no man knew which faction would secure possession of the government, the Virginia Assembly asked Sir William Berkeley to act again as their chief executive. But it was specifically stipulated that he was to hold his authority, not from Charles, but from themselves alone.[6-46] In this step the people were doubtless actuated by an apprehension that the monarchy might be restored, in which case it would be much to their advantage to have as the chief executive of the colony the former royal Governor; but they expressly stated that they held themselves in readiness to acknowledge the authority of any Government, whatever it might be, which succeeded in establishing itself in England. So far was Sir William from considering himself a royal Governor, that when the King actually regained his throne, he wrote with no little apprehension, begging forgiveness for having accepted a commission from any other source than himself.[6-47]
It was the small farmer class which suffered most from the despotic methods of Berkeley during the Restoration period—the corrupting of the House of Burgesses, the heavy taxes, the usurpation of power in local government, the distribution of lucrative offices—and it was this class which rose in insurrection in 1676. It is notable that in the course of Bacon's Rebellion the great mass of the people turned against the Governor, either approving passively of his expulsion, or actually aiding his enemies. When Sir William appealed for volunteers in Gloucester county while Bacon was upon the Pamunkey expedition, he could hardly muster a man.[6-48] And the forces which eventually he gathered around him seem to have included only a handful of leading citizens, such men as Philip Ludwell, Nathaniel Bacon, Sr., Giles Brent and Robert Beverley, together with a mass of indentured servants and others who had been forced into service. It is this which explains the apparent cowardice of the loyal forces, who almost invariably took to their heels at the first approach of the rebels, for men will not risk their lives for a cause in which their hearts are not enlisted.
And though the small farmers lost their desperate fight, though their leaders died upon the scaffold, though the oppressive Navigation Acts remained in force, though taxes were heavier than ever, though the governors continued to encroach upon their liberties, they were by no means crushed and they continued in their legislative halls the conflict that had gone against them upon the field of battle. But the political struggle too was severe. It was in the decade from 1678 to 1688 that the Stuart monarchs made their second attempt to crush Anglo-Saxon liberty, an attempt fully as dangerous for the colonies as for England. The dissolving of the three Whig Parliaments, and the acceptance of a pension from Louis XIV were followed not only by the execution of liberal leaders and the withdrawal of town charters in the mother country, but by a deliberate attempt to suppress popular government in America. It was not a mere coincidence that the attack upon the Massachusetts charter, the misrule of Nicholson in New York, the oppressions of the proprietor in Maryland and the tyranny of Culpeper and Effingham in Virginia occurred simultaneously. They were all part and parcel of the policy of Charles II and James II.
These attempts met with failure in Virginia because of the stubborn resistance they encountered from the small farmer class and their representatives in the House of Burgesses. The annulling of statutes by proclamation they denounced as illegal; they protested bitterly against the appointment of their clerk by the Governor; they fought long to retain their ancient judicial privileges; they defeated all attempts of the King and his representatives in Virginia to deprive them of the right to initiate legislation and to control taxation. And with the Glorious Revolution of 1688-89, which put an end forever to Stuart aggressions, they could feel that their efforts alone had preserved liberty in Virginia, that they might now look forward to long years of happiness and prosperity. The Virginia yeoman reckoned not with slavery, however, and slavery was to prove, in part at least, his undoing.
CHAPTER VII
World Trade
In 1682 the depression which for nearly a quarter of a century had gripped the tobacco trade, somewhat abruptly came to an end. "Our only commodity, tobacco, having the last winter a pretty quick market, hath encouraged ye planters," wrote Secretary Spencer to the Board of Trade in May, 1683.[7-1] Apparently the tide had turned. From this time until the beginning of the War of the Spanish Succession more than two decades later we hear little complaint from Virginia, while there are excellent reasons to suppose that the colony was experiencing a period of growth and prosperity.
In truth the tobacco trade, upon which the planters staked their all, now expanded with startling rapidity, and each year the merchants were forced to add more bottoms to the fleet which sailed for England from the Chesapeake. During the early years of the Restoration period tobacco exports from Virginia and Maryland had made but little advance. In 1663 they amounted to 7,367,140 pounds, six years later they were 9,026,046 pounds.[7-2] In 1698, however, the output of Virginia and Maryland was estimated by the merchant John Linton to be from 70,000 to 80,000 hogsheads.[7-4] Since the hogshead usually contained from 500 to 600 pounds, these figures mean that the planters were then raising from 35,000,000 to 48,000,000 pounds of tobacco. And this conclusion is supported by the fact that the crop of 1699 is valued at £198,115, which at a penny a pound would indicate about 47,000,000 pounds.[7-5] In fact, the production of tobacco in the ten years from 1689 to 1699 seems to have tripled, in the years from 1669 to 1699 to have quadrupled. In 1669 the planters considered themselves fortunate if their industry yielded them a return of £30,000; at the end of the century they could count with a fair degree of certainty upon six times that amount.