The accession of James II. produced no change in the state of Virginia; but the suppression of Monmouth’s rebellion sent over to her a number of truly noble, though involuntary exiles. These were the men who, by sentence of the infamous judge Jefferies, were condemned to transportation, and sent over for sale to the labour-market of the American colonies. The courtiers of James rejoiced in this harvest of blood; and Virginia, smarting from her own wounds, received the exiles with mercy. These political convicts were, many of them, men of family and superior education, accustomed to the conveniences and elegancies of life; and, as regarded them, the government of Virginia received injunctions, under the signature of the monarch; “take care,” said they, “that these convicted persons continue to serve for ten years at least, and that they be not permitted, in any manner, to redeem themselves by money or otherwise until that time be fully expired. Prepare a bill for the assembly of our colony with such clauses as shall be requisite for this purpose.” But Virginia had suffered too much not to sympathise with her noble transports. She had no wish to make the yoke of their suffering any heavier. In December, 1689, the exiles were pardoned. America, in every one of her colonies, was benefited by the intolerance and the oppressions of Europe. Hence she derived her best population; hence her clear instinct of liberty, and the courage and energy which bore her through the struggle for its attainment. In the fourth year of James II., “the Northern Neck was assigned to Culpepper, with many privileges, on account of the loyal services of his family. The only daughter and heiress of Lord Culpepper, marrying Lord Fairfax, this splendid territory came into his hands.” The state of Virginia did not improve under James II.; and so oppressive was the government found to be, that the first assembly convened after his accession, called in question the monarch’s right to negative such of their proceedings as did not meet with his approbation; the king was displeased, and censured “the disaffected and unjust disposition of the members, and their irregular and tumultuous proceedings.” The assembly was dissolved by royal proclamation, and James Collins loaded with irons and imprisoned for treasonable expressions. But the council stood firm to their principles of obedience and conformity, and pledged themselves to bring the state to submission. Beverley, a royalist and former adherent of Berkeley’s, and for a long time clerk of the assembly, in whose soul the despotism of the time seems to have called forth a germ of liberty, fell under the strong resentment of the king; and being disfranchised, and a prosecution commenced against him, he died soon afterwards, a martyr to those very principles for which Bacon had struggled, and which he then had opposed.