In 1621, Sir George Yeardley was succeeded as governor by Sir Edward Wyatt, who carried out with him a written constitution, ratifying in the main the form of government established by Yeardley. The form of constitution prescribed was similar to that of England, and remained to be the model of all other Anglo-American governments. Its purport was declared to be “the greatest comfort and benefit to the people, and the prevention of injustice, grievances, and oppression.” A more sound basis than this for any government could not have been devised. A governor and permanent council were to be appointed by the company; a general assembly was to meet yearly, consisting of the members of the council, and delegates chosen by the people as their representatives, two for each borough, the colony being divided into eleven boroughs. All enactments of the General Assembly, however, required, to become valid, the ratification of the company in England. It was further ordained—and this gave the greatest satisfaction perhaps of all—that after the government of the colony had once become established, no orders of the company in London should be valid unless ratified by the General Assembly of the colony. The courts of justice were to be constituted according to the laws and mode of trial established in England.

Representative government and trial by jury were established in America; and the colonists, no longer depending on a commercial corporation, now became enfranchised citizens. “Henceforth,” says Bancroft, “the supreme power was held to reside in the hands of the colonial parliament, and of the king, as king of Virginia. This ordinance was the basis on which Virginia erected the superstructure of her liberties. Its influences were wide and enduring, and can be traced through all following years of the history of the colony. It constituted, in its infancy, a university of freemen; and succeeding generations learned to cherish institutions which were as old as the first period of the prosperity of their fathers. The privileges which were now conceded could never be wrested from the Virginians, and as new colonies arose at the south, their proprietaries could hope to win emigrants only by bestowing franchises as large as those enjoyed by their older rival.”

In the month of August, 1620, fourteen months before the sitting of the first representative assembly in Virginia, about four months before the landing of the pilgrim fathers in America, a century after the last hereditary serfdom had been abolished in England, and six years after the commons of France had petitioned for the emancipation of every serf in any fief, a Dutch man-of-war entered James River, bringing in twenty negroes for sale. The necessity for labourers seems to have been the first cause of the introduction of negro slaves into Virginia, and the Dutch were for many years the principal slave traders. The cultivation of silk and of the vine had been introduced, but scarcity of labourers caused these branches of cultivation to languish; cotton, on the other hand, soon engaged attention. In 1621, the first seeds were sown as an experiment, and their “plentiful coming up” promised the most successful results.

Wyatt found the colony in a high degree of prosperity. The English had extended their plantations considerably inland, along the banks of the James River and the Potomac; wherever rich ground invited, there they established themselves, no longer fearing the solitude of the forest, because they no longer dreaded the power of the Indians. The Indians were regarded with contempt or pity; a single mastiff would put many to flight; seven hundred armed savages had on one occasion been routed by fifteen armed men; no care was taken to conciliate their good will, although in many cases their condition was improved by the introduction of some of the arts of civilised life. Their simple, child-like state may be exhibited by one small circumstance. A house had been built for the great chief Opechancanough, successor of Powhatan, according to the English style, and so delighted was he with the lock on the door, that he locked and unlocked it a hundred times a day, and regarded it as a triumph of skill.

So peaceful were all things, and so amicable appeared the relationship with the natives, on the arrival of Wyatt, that the emigrants needed fire-arms apparently merely for the destruction of game; and the old law of the colony which had made it death to teach an Indian the use of fire-arms, was now so much disregarded, that the Indians were employed by the whites as their huntsmen. Enmity, however, was not extinct in the heart of the savage. Powhatan, the father of Pocahontas, the firm friend of the English, was dead, and his younger brother, his successor, entertained different sentiments towards the strangers, whose rapidly increasing numbers and widely extending settlements might justly awake the fear and the jealousy of the primeval possessors of the soil. A deep plan of extermination was laid. In open battle the Indian knew that he had no chance, but by cunning and guile he could accomplish much. A general attack was determined on by the Indians, but all preparations concealed by impenetrable secrecy. The Indians appeared as amicably disposed as heretofore. They visited the settlements of the English, borrowed their boats, sat at their tables, and made professions of friendship; “sooner,” said they, “shall the sky fall than our friendship be broken by us!” and this on the very morning of the day which was to destroy the whole race.

At mid-day on the 22nd of March, at one and the same moment, the Indians fell upon the whole white population scattered in distant villages, one hundred and forty miles along each side of the river! No suspicion of such an intention had been excited;—men, women, and children, the missionary who had taught them and laboured among them with unwearying kindness; those from whom the Indian never received anything but benefits, all were murdered, with every appalling circumstance of Indian barbarity, and so great was their fury, that they even attacked the dead, as if to murder them anew.

In one hour three hundred and forty-seven persons were destroyed. And the whole of Virginia might have slept in one bloody grave, had not a converted Indian, the night before the massacre, revealed the plot to an Englishman, to whom he was much attached, and whose life he wished to save. By this means Jamestown and the nearer settlements were fully prepared. The larger portion of the colony was saved, but so universal was the terror which this bloody massacre occasioned, that all public works were interrupted, and the more remote settlements abandoned. The cultivation of the land was almost at once given up, and of the eighty flourishing, happy settlements which had so lately existed, now there remained but eight. Some of the colonists fled in their terror to England, and sickness broke out amongst those who remained.

The colonists rose up for vengeance, and in England so great was the sympathy and compassion excited, that new supplies and arms were immediately sent out; King James, for his part, ordering a quantity of arms which had been thrown into the Tower as good for nothing to be sent over, as they might be useful against the Indians! The city of London and many private persons generously contributed aid; and the brave John Smith, then in London, volunteered his services to defend the colonists and chastise the Indians; but the company declared it had no funds, and he was not rich enough to go out at his own cost.

A deep cloud rested on Virginia, which nothing but vengeance on the Indians would dispel. The Indians, not having fully accomplished their scheme, and now justly dreading a tenfold retaliation, fled far into the forest. But their land was seized upon, their open fields and villages, all planted on the pleasantest and most fertile sites, were soon in secure possession of the English. To pursue the natives to the fastnesses of the wilderness was impossible, therefore the English in their turn practised guile. They assumed an aspect of forgiveness; the savages, by degrees losing their fear, ventured forth again, and even approaching their old haunts, resettled themselves in the neighbourhood of their enemies. The aspect of peace and forbearance was, however, only vengeance deferred.

In July of the following year, the Indians were attacked by an army under commissioned officers; a similar attack was repeated the next year, and for several years, it being now a colonial principle that no peace should be concluded with the Indians.

Meantime great changes as regarded the relationships of the colony to the mother-country were taking place. The colony of Virginia had not been a lucrative enterprise for the London company; the shares at the present time were as unproductive stock of little value; the holders were numerous, and the meetings of the company in London had, instead of being mere meetings of business, become scenes of political debate, in which the supporters of liberty were arrayed against the supporters of royal prerogative. Liberal opinions here found free play. The king was displeased by this freedom of debate. Gondemar, the Spanish envoy, warned James that “these Virginian courts were only a seminary to a seditious parliament.” James, who abhorred freedom of opinion, determined to nip it in the bud, by putting an end to the hot-bed which fostered it. His first endeavour was to control the election of officers by overawing their assemblies; and failing of that, he determined to sequestrate their patent, and recover to himself the authority which he had conceded to the company. Commissioners in the interest of the king were appointed to examine into the affairs of the corporation, although former charges against them had been satisfactorily answered, the records were seized; the deputy-treasurer imprisoned, and private letters from Virginia intercepted and examined. Smith was examined, and his straightforward, honest answers exposed the bad management of the company, and showed that the withdrawal of the charter would be a boon to the colony. This surprised all; commissioners, who had been appointed to examine the affairs of the corporation and the colony itself, reported in favour of a change. The king did not hesitate; the London company was dissolved, and Virginia once more became a royal government, as under its first charter.

Whilst these things were going on in England, the Virginians were not indifferent. When the commissioners arrived in the colony, the prayer of the colonists was that the governors might not have absolute power; that the liberty of popular assemblies might not be retrenched, “for nothing,” said they, “can conduce more to public satisfaction and public utility, than the free discussion of our own affairs.” That this subject might be efficiently urged, an agent was sent for that purpose to England, a tax of four pounds weight of the best tobacco being levied on each male above the age of sixteen, and who had been a twelvemonth in the colony, to defray the expenses. But this agent unfortunately died on his voyage.

The spirit of liberty, however, had taken deep root on the Virginian soil. Intimidation and promised advantage could not induce the colony to pray for a repeal of the charter under which their first constitutional liberty had been granted. On the contrary, the assembly met, and laid down laws for itself. The governor said, “they shall not lay any taxes or impositions on the colony, its lands or commodities, other way than by the authority of the General Assembly, to be levied and employed as the said assembly shall appoint.” Virginia, the Old Dominion, as it is called, was the first to set an example of just and wise legislation as regarded the use of the public money. Others imitated the example in due time. Various governors had endeavoured by penal enactments to compel the culture of corn; now it was said, “for the encouragement of men to plant store of corn, the price shall not be stinted, but it shall be free for any man to sell it as dear as he can.” Through the whole of this disturbed period the Virginians showed themselves admirably capable of popular government, proving how truly, with the aid of free discussion, men become good legislators in their own concerns; wise legislation being the enacting of proper laws at proper times, and no criterion being so nearly infallible as the fair representation of the interests to be affected. Among the laws which were at this time framed, and which reflect the manners and spirit of the age, we may mention the following. It was enacted “that there should be a room or house set apart in every plantation for the worship of God, sequestered and set apart for that purpose only;” also a place of burial “sequestered and paled in.” Absence from public worship without allowable excuse, was punished by the fine of a pound weight of tobacco, or fifty pounds weight, if absence continued a month. Divine service was according to the canons of the English church. The 22nd of March was added to the church festivals, in commemoration of the escape from the Indian massacre. Any minister absent from his parish above two months annually forfeited half his salary. The falsely disparaging of a minister rendered the offender liable to a fine of five hundred pounds weight of tobacco, and publicly to ask pardon of the minister. Ministers’ salaries were to be paid out of the first-gathered and best tobacco and corn. Drunkenness and swearing were punishable offences. Three sufficient men were to be sworn in each parish to see that every man cultivated corn sufficient for his family. Every settler was to fence in a garden for himself of one acre, for the planting of vines, roots, herbs, and mulberry trees. Weights and measures were to be sealed. Every house was to be palisadoed for defence, and people were not to go out in such numbers as might leave their houses undefended and liable to attack. Delinquent persons of quality, not fit to undergo corporal punishment, might be imprisoned at discretion, or fined by the monthly courts. “At the beginning of July, the inhabitants of every plantation were to fall upon their neighbouring savages, as they did last year.” Every person wounded in this service was to be cured at the public expense, and if permanently lamed would have maintenance for life suitable to his quality.

The London company was at an end. “It had,” says Bancroft, “fulfilled its high destinies; it had confirmed the colonisation of Virginia, and had conceded a liberal form of government to Englishmen in America. It could accomplish no more.”

The term of five years was fixed as that of the period of representative government. Sir Thomas Wyatt was confirmed in office for that term; and the king himself was about to frame a code of fundamental laws for the colony, when death fortunately put an end to his attempt.

Charles I. succeeded his father, March 27, 1625. As regarded Virginia, he had no more interest in it than as the country producing tobacco, and from which he hoped to derive a large revenue. His first act with reference to the colony was an endeavour to obtain for himself the sole monopoly of this trade. As to its constitutions and political rights, he did not trouble himself about them, and they became established by his very indifference.

In 1626, Wyatt having returned to Europe, Sir George Yeardley was appointed his successor. The colony prospered; in 1627, one thousand emigrants arrived in the country. The following year Yeardley died, leaving behind him a memory cherished by the colony as the first governor who had convened a representative assembly.

Again, the king offered to contract for the whole crop of tobacco, desiring that an assembly might be called to consider his proposal. The assembly returned a firm negative to the royal monopolist.

On the death of Yeardley, John Harvey, who had been for several years a member of the council, and an extremely unpopular man, was nominated governor by the king; but as he was not then in the colony, some time elapsed before he appeared to assume his authority.

It was at this period that Lord Baltimore visited Virginia. He fled hither as a persecuted man, and was hospitably received; nor must it be forgotten that, as regarded the pilgrims of Plymouth rock, they were invited to leave that sterile and inhospitable region, and plant themselves in the milder regions of Delaware Bay. Puritanism was evidently at that time not persecuted in Virginia, though “needless novelties” in worship had been prohibited by law for some years.

In the autumn of 1629, Harvey, the new governor, arrived. He was unwelcome from various causes; he belonged to the faction to which Virginia ascribed her earliest sorrows; he had rendered himself extremely unpopular as a member of the council; besides which, it had been well pleasing to the colony that King James, on assuming supreme authority, had entrusted the government to impartial agents; but now the appointment of Harvey indicated a change of policy. His arrival among them was naturally cause neither of satisfaction nor of rejoicing, nor does he appear to have conciliated their favour. The older historians charge him with arbitrary and tyrannical conduct; yet it may be questionable whether he was quite deserving of the ill-will with which he was regarded, as the revised code of laws, which was published with consent of the governor and the council, neither abrogated nor abridged any of the civil rights of the colonists.

His administration, however, was disturbed by disputes respecting land-titles under the royal grants, and principally in consequence of the grant of Maryland to Lord Baltimore, which caused the first European blood to be shed by Europeans on the banks of the Chesapeake. Harvey not seconding the claims of Virginia against the royal grant, was considered by the colonists to have betrayed their interests; and full of indignation against him, they “thrust him out of his government,” says the old chronicle, and “appointed Captain John West governor in his stead till the king’s pleasure should be known.” Harvey consented to go to England to meet his accusers there, but, as might have been expected, no accusations would be received there against the man who had been merely acting according to royal instructions. The commission of accusation could not even obtain a hearing. Harvey returned to occupy his former post, and remained in office till 1639, when Sir Francis Wyatt succeeded him. Two years afterwards, Sir William Berkeley was appointed governor. The civil condition of Virginia was greatly improved; the laws and customs of England still further introduced; cruel punishments were abolished; old controversies adjusted; a more equitable system of taxation was introduced; taxes being assessed not in proportion to numbers, but “to men’s abilities and estates;” the rights of property and the freedom of industry were secured, so that Virginia enjoyed all the civil liberties which a more free form of government could have conferred. The Virginians seem early to have understood the true elements of political economy. In a petition addressed to England, in 1642, they asserted the necessity of the freedom of trade, “for freedom of trade,” say they, “is the blood and life of a commonwealth.” And as regarded self-government, they argued with the force of truth, “there is more likelihood that such as are acquainted with the clime and its accidents may, upon better grounds, prescribe our advantages, than such as sit at the helm in England.”

Spite of the liberality which had been exhibited in the colony towards diversities of religious opinion, which had led the excellent Whitaker to say, “let neither surplice nor subscription be spoken of here;” which had caused an invitation to the pilgrims of New Hampshire to remove within the precincts of Virginia; a spirit of intolerance was now manifested by the legislative assembly, and it was ordained that “no minister preach or teach except in conformity to the Church of England.” Whilst puritanism and republicanism were working together for the downfall of monarchy in England, Virginia showed the strongest attachment to the cause of episcopacy and royalty.

The hostility of the settlers against the natives remained year by year unabated. Twenty-one years after the massacre, it was enacted in the assembly that no terms of peace should be entertained with the Indians. Now, therefore, the Indians, hearing that troubles and dissensions were arising in England, resolved once more on a general massacre, hoping, that by destroying the corn-fields and cattle, they might cause any remnant who remained to perish by famine. The eighteenth of April was fixed upon as the fatal day; the attack commenced on the border frontiers; but the Indians themselves, filled as it were by a consciousness of their own weakness and dread of the consequences, had scarcely begun to shed blood when they fled. The number of victims was again about three hundred. The colonists roused themselves at once, and war commenced again vigorously against the Indians. The aged Opechancanough, the successor of Powhatan, was soon taken prisoner, and with his death peace was secured to the English.

This fierce warrior, and implacable enemy of the whites, was now nearly one hundred years of age, and his once stately form was wasted with the fatigues of war and bent with the weight of years. Unable to walk, says the historian of Virginia, he was carried from place to place by his followers. His flesh was almost wasted away from his bones, and his eyelids were so powerless, that he could only see when they were lifted by his followers.

After a long and rapid march, Sir William Berkeley, with a party of horse, surprised the aged warrior at some distance from his residence, and took him prisoner to Jamestown, where he was exhibited as an object of curiosity and of triumph to the victor. The old monarch of the forest, retaining a spirit unbroken by the decrepitude of the body, bore his calamities of fortune with a proud though melancholy mien. Hearing footsteps in the room where he lay, he requested his eyelids to be raised, when perceiving a crowd of spectators, he called for the governor, and upon his appearance said with calm dignity, “Had it been my fortune to have taken Sir William Berkeley prisoner, I would have scorned to have made a show of him.”

About a fortnight after the noble old chiefs capture, one of his guards, from private revenge, shot him in the back, and after languishing for some time of his wound, the old man died.

The Indians were completely subdued, and a cession of land was the terms on which peace was granted to the original possessors of the soil. The red man began to pass away from the precincts of the white. Within a short period, comparatively speaking, but few memorials of their former existence remained, saving the euphonious or sonorous names of rivers and mountains, the great imperishable features of nature, which thus became their monuments.

Whilst civil war and political convulsions were agitating England to the very centre of her being, peace and prosperity, security and quiet, equal laws and general contentment, were at home in Virginia. The population of the colony amounted to twenty thousand, and was still increasing; the houses were filled with children, as the ports were with ships and emigrants. At Christmas, 1648, two ships from London traded with Virginia, two from Bristol, twelve from Holland, and seven from New England.

The Virginians adhered faithfully to the royal cause, nor would they, after the execution of the monarch, recognise the Commonwealth, but still acknowledged Charles II. to be monarch, while yet a fugitive. Virginia soon became filled with cavaliers, fugitives like their sovereign. “Men of consideration among the nobility, gentry, and clergy, struck with horror and despair at the execution of the king, and desiring no reconciliation with the unrelenting rebels, made their way to the shores of the Chesapeake, where every house was for them a hostelry, and every planter a friend.” In the hospitable homes of Virginia they often met to talk over their own and their country’s sorrows, and to nourish loyalty and hope.

The Parliament, extremely displeased that this colony should thus become the asylum and nursery of monarchical principles, sent, in 1652, a naval force to reduce them to submission. Already, in 1650, foreign ships had been forbidden to trade with the contumacious colony, and in 1651 the celebrated Navigation Act was passed, which, having for its object the protection of British shipping, and the acquisition to England of the trade of the world, greatly shackled and restricted the commercial prosperity of her colonies.

In March, 1652, the republican party in the mother-country determined on obtaining the concession of obedience from Virginia. Commissioners chosen from among the planters themselves were empowered to act as pacificators with their country, the submission of which, if their efforts failed, would be enforced by the severities of war. It was the reconciliation of parent and child; the offended parent assumed an attitude of displeasure and resentment; obedient submission was that which was demanded, and which, if needful, would be enforced by violence; yet, would but the child submit, the parent would concede much; and the child, seeing the parent in earnest, yielded at once, and obtained the offered concession. No sooner, therefore, had the war-frigate of the Commonwealth anchored in the Chesapeake, than all thoughts of resistance were laid aside. The colonists, however loyal might be their inclinations, were more disposed to establish the freedom of their own institutions than to assume a hostile attitude against the mother-country, even on behalf of an exiled monarch.

There is something noble in the position which Virginia now assumed. It was not to force that she surrendered, but by “a voluntary deed and mutual compact; and in return she obtained, that her people should possess all the liberties of free-born people of England; should manage their business as formerly in their own assembly, and should have as free-trade as the people of England. No taxes nor customs were to be levied except by her own representatives, no forts erected nor garrisons maintained but by her consent.”

These conditions, so favourable to liberty, worthy to be granted by the champions of political and civil liberty in England, were a cause of great satisfaction to Virginia; and so earnest was the spirit of her submission and her desire to establish an amicable understanding with the mother-country, that Richard Bennett, one of the commissioners of the Parliament, a merchant and a Roundhead, was unanimously elected governor in the place of Sir William Berkeley.

The spirit of democratic liberty, like a strong young tree, grew with every change of season. Hitherto the governor and the council had sat in the General Assembly; the propriety of this was now questioned, and only retained by a concession which made the house of burgesses, a convention of the people, virtually possessed of supreme authority. Nor were these privileges at all interfered with by Cromwell. When Bennett two years afterwards retired from office, Edward Diggs, a steadfast Commonwealth’s man, was elected his successor, and after him the “worthy old Samuel Matthews, a planter of forty years, a most deserving republican, who kept a good house, lived bravely, and was a true lover of Virginia.” Under his governorship a single instance of the determined spirit of democracy occurred which still more strengthened and established it. The governor and his council having come to issue with the burgesses on a question of prerogative, the governor yielded, reserving a right of appeal to Cromwell. The members of the Assembly, fearing through this an infringement of their liberty, asserted their own sovereign authority, and deposed the governor and council; re-electing Matthews, however, and investing him “with all the just rights and privileges as governor and captain-general of Virginia,” and Matthews submitted, as Virginia herself had done in her quarrel with England, that by submission he might conquer. He acknowledged the right of the burgesses to depose and re-elect; took the oath; and thus was popular liberty still further strengthened in the Old Dominion—an example to all other newer states.

In March, 1660, the very time when the resignation of Richard Cromwell left England without a ruler, good old Samuel Matthews died, and Virginia was in the same predicament. But the burgesses of Virginia, unlike the people of England, stood fast by democratic principles, and, enacting that the supreme power should still reside in the General Assembly until there should arrive from England a commission, which the Assembly itself should adjudge to be lawful, proceeded to elect Sir William Berkeley as their governor; and he in his turn acknowledged the validity of this act of the Assembly by assuming office, “for I am,” said he, “but a servant of the Assembly.”

Virginia, in this case, however, it must be observed, recognised covertly another authority higher than that of her own Assembly, retaining, amid her spirit of democracy, a firm sentiment of loyalty. She hoped at this time for the restoration of the Stuarts.

Virginia was composed of separate boroughs, and the government organised on the basis of universal suffrage. Every freeman was possessed of a vote. On an attempt to limit the right of voting to householders, it was declared to be “hard and unagreeable to reason that every person shall pay equal taxes and yet have no vote in the elections.”

During the Commonwealth, Virginia not only enjoyed the utmost political liberty, but unlimited freedom of commerce also, while her own internal state was that of peace and prosperity. “Tobacco, the great staple product of the country, was the medium of exchange. Theft was hardly known, and the spirit and administration of the criminal law was mild and merciful; the cultivation of land was carried on very successfully; and as regarded commerce, the navigation laws were a mere dead letter. Virginia even traded with the Dutch during the period when the Protector and Holland were desperately contesting the sovereignty of the seas. The Virginians were the early advocates of free trade, and invited the Dutch and all foreigners to trade with them on the payment of no higher duty than that which was levied on such English vessels as were bound for a foreign port.” Proposals of peace were discussed between New Netherlands, the Dutch colony on the North American shore, and Virginia. During this period, also, considerable advance was made in religious liberty, although the Quakers were banished from the colony.

At the period of the Restoration, Virginia possessed, among the privileges which she had won for herself, freedom of commerce with the whole world, and the universal elective franchise. The population amounted now to 30,000, and it was esteemed an honour to be a born Virginian. Numbers of the emigrants of late years had been, as we have seen, royalist officers, men of family and education, and these, though they still retained their loyalty, offered no impediment to the free exercise of independent principles in Virginia, and finally the newly-adopted country superseded the old, and the interests and liberties of Virginia became to them dearer even than the monarchical principles of which they had been the supporters in England, and for their adherence to which they had been exiles.

“God Almighty,” says their statute-book of this time, “hath vouchsafed myriads of children to this colony.” Young Virginians were growing up throughout the length and breadth of the land. Virginia was becoming the home of patriots.

“Labour,” adds Bancroft, summing up the advantages and prosperity of the colony, “was valuable; land was cheap; competence promptly followed industry. There was no need of a scramble; abundance gushed from the earth for all. It was the best poor man’s country in the world. Yet, as the shadow-side of this bright picture, it must be conceded that plenty encouraged indolence; everything was imported from England. The chief branch of industry, for the purpose of exchanges, was tobacco planting, and the spirit of invention was enfeebled by the uniformity of pursuit.”