The Assembly, during its century and a half of existence, was often forced to meet in private houses or taverns because of the burning of the statehouses, now at Green Spring, the residence of Sir William Berkeley, now at William Sherwood's house; now at the ordinary of Thomas Woodhouse. The first statehouse, which occupied a double row of little buildings, went up in flames in 1656, the second, which was also the Governor's residence, burned in 1660. The third statehouse was more pretentious than its predecessors, being two stories high, with a medieval porch in front, the tile-covered roof dominated by chimney stacks probably in the Tudor style. It was burned by Bacon's rebels in 1676. The fourth statehouse, which seems to have been built on the foundations of the third, was destroyed by fire in 1698. It was after this last disaster that the seat of government was moved to Williamsburg, where a lovely Capitol, which has been accurately restored by Colonial Williamsburg Inc. in recent years, was completed in 1704. The sessions of the Burgesses in the hall provided for them in this building presented a picturesque scene. The Speaker, in his gown, sat in a high chair on a raised platform at the semicircular end of the room. Before him, in the center of the hall, was a table covered with green cloth, resting on it the mace, the emblem of the authority of the House. Here sat the clerk, pen in hand, jotting down notes for the journal. Along either side of the room were two rows of benches covered with green serge, where sat the Burgesses. All wore their hats. A strange medley they were, with the "handsome, well dressed, complete" gentlemen from the tidewater contrasting with the roughly clad frontiersmen. The House was quick to resent any disrespect to themselves as individuals or as a body. It was in October, 1693, that Mr. Matthew Kemp rose to complain of insults offered him and the House by a certain Thomas Rooke. We do not know whether he displayed a bloody nose or a black eye, but he accused Rooke of striking him. Thereupon a committee was appointed to look into the matter, Rooke was arrested and forced on his bended knees to apologize. "Having now a deep sense and abhorrence, and out of a true and unfeigned sorrow and repentence," he repeated, he asked forgiveness.[19] After they had released him he may have cursed them all under his breath, but for the future he kept his resentment to himself.