A Place Called Freedom - Ken Follett [119]
He had drunk plenty of wine and was feeling good. They had served dinner earlier, but refreshments were now on the table: wine, jellies, cheesecakes, syllabubs and fruit. The party had cost a small fortune, but it was a success: everyone who was anyone had come.
The only sour note had been struck by the overseer, Sowerby, who had chosen today to ask for his back pay. When Jay told him it was not possible to pay him until the first tobacco crop was sold, Sowerby had insolently asked how Jay could afford to give a party for fifty guests. The truth was that Jay could not afford it—everything had been bought on credit—but he was too proud to say that to his overseer. So he had told him to hold his tongue. Sowerby had looked disappointed and worried, and Jay had wondered if he had some specific money problem. However, he did not inquire.
In the dining room the Jamissons’ nearest neighbors were standing at the fire, eating cake. There were three couples: Colonel and Mrs. Thumson, Bill and Suzy Delahaye, and the Armstead brothers, two bachelors. The Thumsons were very elevated: the colonel was a burgess, a member of the general assembly, grave and self-important. He had distinguished himself in the British army and the Virginia militia, then had retired to grow tobacco and help rule the colony. Jay felt he could model himself on Thumson.
They were talking politics, and Thumson explained: “The governor of Virginia died last March, and we’re waiting for his replacement.”
Jay assumed the air of an insider in the London court. “The king has appointed Norborne Berkeley, the baron de Botetourt.”
John Armstead, who was drunk, laughed coarsely. “What a name!”
Jay gave him a frosty look. “I believe the baron was hoping to leave London soon after I did.”
Thumson said: “The president of the council is acting as his deputy in the interim.”
Jay was keen to show that he knew a lot about local affairs. He said: “I assume that’s why the burgesses were so unwise as to support the Massachusetts Letter.” The letter in question was a protest against customs duties. It had been sent by the Massachusetts Legislature to King George. Then the Virginia Legislature had passed a resolution approving of the letter. Jay and most London Tories considered both the letter and the Virginia resolution disloyal.
Thumson seemed to disagree. He said stiffly: “I trust the burgesses were not unwise.”
“His Majesty certainly thought so,” Jay rejoined. He did not explain how he knew what the king thought, but left room for them to suppose the king had told him personally.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” said Thumson, not sounding sorry at all.
Jay felt that he might be on dangerous ground, but he wanted to impress these people with his acumen, so he went on. “I’m quite sure the new governor will demand that the resolution be withdrawn.” He had learned this before leaving London.
Bill Delahaye, younger than Thumson, said hotly: “The burgesses will refuse.” His pretty wife, Suzy, put a restraining hand on his arm, but he felt strongly, and he added: “It’s their duty to tell the king the truth, not mouth empty phrases that will please his Tory sycophants.”
Thumson said tactfully: “Not that all Tories are sycophants, of course.”
Jay said: “If the burgesses refuse to withdraw their resolution, the governor will have to dissolve the assembly.”
Roderick Armstead, soberer than his brother, said: “It’s curious how little difference that makes, nowadays.”
Jay was mystified. “How so?”
“Colonial parliaments are constantly being dissolved for one reason or another. They simply reassemble informally, in a tavern or a private house, and carry on their business.”
“But in those circumstances they have no legal status!” Jay protested.
Colonel Thumson answered him. “Still, they have the consent of the people they govern, and that seems to be enough.”
Jay had heard this sort of thing before, from men who read too much philosophy. The idea that governments got their authority from the consent of the people was dangerous nonsense. The implication was that