The year 2026 marks the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. Cardinal News has embarked on a three-year project to tell the little-known stories of Virginia’s role in the march to independence. As part of this, I will be writing monthly columns about the politics of the era, written the same way I’d write them today. The events described here took place in June 1766.
This project is supported, in part, by a grant from the Virginia American Revolution 250 Commission. You can sign up to receive a free monthly newsletter with updates.
By witness accounts, the sensational murder of Robert Routledge in a tavern in Cumberland County was fueled by the usual suspects: alcohol, anger and easy access to a weapon, in this case, John Chiswell’s sword. (Modern editor’s note: The tavern is in what is today Powhatan County.)
However, what seemed at first to be simply a barroom brawl gone horribly wrong has now revealed things far worse than two men of gentleman status acting like drunken ruffians.
The runup to the so-called “Trial of the Century” has exposed scandals at the highest levels of Virginia society. Some believe that the scandal here is how men of wealth can evade the law if they know the right people, although that’s always been the case throughout recorded history. No, the biggest scandal here is of a newer vintage: Too many of our most prominent citizens are deep in debt.
This widespread indebtedness isn’t simply bad for those men and their families, but it’s bad for Virginia because it constrains our ability to grow our economy and manage our own affairs. It also raises questions about just whom our leading citizens are beholden to. How many of them are in thrall to financiers across the ocean? And why must a colony with such abundant riches be reduced to a state of perpetual indebtedness simply because parliamentarians in London for whom we have never voted say so?
Before we tackle those weighty questions — and, trust me, we will before my ink runs out — we must recap the vivid details of what happened in Benjamin Mosby’s Tavern for those who have only heard snatches of this tale.
The victim here — although some might dispute that sympathetic term — was Robert Routledge. He was a merchant from Prince Edward County, and for some of his detractors, that title of “merchant” is epithet enough. As Virginia has prospered, we have seen the rise of a new merchant class, often peopled by newcomers to our shores such as Routledge. He came with no pedigree, no noble lineage, no claim to gentleman status, but the man knows how to make a shilling — often at the expense of our gentlemen-farmers.
Now, perhaps it is the fault of those tobacco farmers that they allowed themselves to become indebted to Routledge. Perhaps they didn’t need to buy so much Jamaican rum, or so many fine British linens. But buy them they did, because one of the singular problems with our society today is that men of means feel compelled to display their status to the world — and that often requires living above their means. In their case, these tobacco farmers were gambling on the price of their next harvest to pay for their extravagances, and Routledge and others like him have been all too happy to sell them imported wares on credit.
Who is the real victim here? Was it Routledge, because he was run through with a sword, even if he did prey upon the vanity of our colonial gentlemen by selling them overpriced goods they cannot afford? Or was it our planters who wish to be seen as prosperous gentlemen, even though they have no coin in their pocket, and are completely dependent on the price their tobacco fetches on the London market? Or is it all of us in Virginia, who are forbidden to sell tobacco in more than one market by an economic system designed across the ocean? Would we not be wealthier if we could sell that tobacco wherever we please? Would we not be more self-sufficient if we were allowed to manufacture our own wants and needs instead of being forced to import them from Britain? Why must our leading citizens be so reliant on these common merchants simply because they have connections with someone in London with a ledger book? Those weighty questions will have to be addressed another day, but they all color our understanding of what took place in Mosby’s Tavern.
Routledge and all the other merchants who have come to our shores have felt the pinch of the recent controversy over the Stamp Act. As part of the colonial resistance to that ill-considered law, Virginia shut down its court system. That meant those merchants could not pursue legal actions against those who owed them money. This was all part of a clever strategy; our gentry essentially appealed to merchants in Britain to pressure parliamentarians to repeal the Stamp Act. The argument was that we’ll close our courts, our debts won’t get paid, which means you merchants in London won’t get paid, either. Why resort to actual warfare when economic warfare works just as well? In four days shy of a year, Britain caved to reason — and economic pressure. The hated Stamp Act was repealed, and colonists rejoiced. The victory came with a price, though. In Virginia, the courts have now reopened — and legal actions against our gentlemen-debtors now proceed apace.
No wonder Routledge spent the morning of June 3, 1766, drinking at Mosby’s Tavern — he was celebrating! He could now commence collecting his many debts. Not everyone in Virginia is feeling so joyful about the reopening of the courts. Across Virginia, we have a slow-moving drama that is part legal, part economic and part old-fashioned class conflict — these common merchants are suing English gentlemen who consider themselves their betters.
And that brings us to John Chiswell, a member of our gentleman class who has become entangled in some ungentlemanly affairs. Chiswell is one of the most well-connected men in the colony. He inherited a plantation in Hanover County, which operates with an enslaved workforce. He bears the title of colonel in that county’s militia. He’s served in the House of Burgesses, representing first his native Hanover County and then getting himself elected again in Williamsburg once he moved there. Perhaps more importantly, Chiswell moves in the highest social circles of the colony, for he is the son-in-law of none other than the late John Robinson, until his recent passing our powerful speaker of the House. Chiswell is also co-owner of the Raleigh Tavern, one of the most important establishments in all of Virginia.
Chiswell might have been better off had he stopped his business investments there. Instead, he operated an iron furnace near Fredericksburg and copper mines in Albemarle and Augusta counties. Those ventures, however successful they might have been, led Chiswell to seek out other sources of ore. In 1756 that took him west of the Blue Ridge, where stumbled upon a band of Cherokees deep in the mountains of Augusta County. (Modern editor’s note: He was in what today is Wythe County.) Forced to flee, he took refuge in a cave — while hiding there, he noticed some strange rock outcropping that proved to be lead. Once back home safely in Williamsburg, Chiswell confided his findings with some of Virginia’s leading citizens: his father-in-law Robinson, the noted planter William Byrd, and none other than Gov. Francis Fauquier. Together they formed a company to exploit this ore. Chiswell even took some of the ore to London in 1762 to have it analyzed by British scientists. (See our previous story on Chiswell’s mines and their role in the revolution.)
Unfortunately for Chiswell and his business partners, the following year King George III issued his Proclamation of 1763 that forbade settlement west of an arbitrary line drawn through the mountains. Chiswell’s mine lies west of that controversial line, which now renders his investment worthless. This is but another indication of the folly of the king’s proclamation; he has unwittingly denied Virginia an opportunity to enrich itself. It is true that many have ignored the king’s writ and moved west of that line, but those are hardy, individualistic souls. For Chiswell and his fellow investors to properly mine their deposit, they need an entire settlement of miners, and few of them are willing to risk their lives in a part of the country that the king has effectively deeded to native tribes.
My point is this: Chiswell may be well-connected, but he’s also broke, to use the vernacular. He and his traveling party were likely riding east from a visit to those forbidden and undeveloped mines when they stopped at Mosby’s Tavern. It’s well-established that Routledge was drunk that day at Mosby’s Tavern; it’s also said that Chiswell might have been, too. At the very least, he became rowdy, loudly proclaiming that those mines would make him rich despite the king’s edict.
Other dispatches
Dispatch from 1766: In Tappahannock, the Stamp Act prompts threats of violence.
Dispatch from 1765: Augusta County mob murders Cherokees, defies royal authority.
Dispatch from 1763: Despite cries of ‘treason!,’ Hanover County jury delivers rebuke to the church – and the crown. (The court case that made Patrick Henry a celebrity.)
Dispatch from 1763: King’s proclamation has united often opposing factions in Virginia (Opposition to the king’s proclamation forbidding western settlement.)
Chiswell began to “utter certain oaths.” Routledge told him to stop “swearing and talking as you do among good company.” Things spiraled downward from there. Chiswell called Routledge “a villain who came to Virginia to cheat and defraud men of their property” and, perhaps worst of all, “a Scotch rebel.” As we all know, the Scots are often considered suspect in polite English society, particularly since Scotland gave us the autocratic Stuart kings whom William and Mary, bless their souls, drove into exile in the Glorious Rebellion of 1688. More recently, Scotland gave aid and comfort to the Stuart pretender, the so-called Bonnie Prince Charlie, in his failed 1745 rebellion to overthrow our rightful king. It’s said by some that Routledge rode with that charming rebel, which essentially marks him as a traitor. In any case however, Routledge is not Scottish — or Scotch, if you prefer. He is very much an Englishman. It is Chiswell who is the son of a Scottish immigrant, but such details were lost in a drunken daze.
Some say Routledge responded by throwing his drink at Chiswell. Some say Chiswell threw his drink at Routledge, along with a candlestick and a nearby pair of fire tongs. Routledge seized a chair and prepared to wield it as a weapon. Chiswell demanded his young slave fetch his sword. The young man wisely refused, prompting Chiswell to threaten to kill him if the sword wasn’t produced immediately. Chastened, the young slave turned over the sword. Chiswell maneuvered through the room, keeping his back to the wall to prevent one of the many alarmed witnesses from disarming him. One of those witnesses, Joseph Carrington, tried to hustle Routledge toward the door but didn’t get him there in time. Chiswell confronted Routledge anew at the door. He shouted “Presbyterian fellow!” and then drove his sword through Routledge’s heart. The merchant “instantly expired” and the former officeholder and confidante of Virginia’s most mighty shouted to all: “He is dead and I killed him!”
The local justice of the peace ordered Chiswell arrested, and he was taken to the county jail, and then transferred to the jail in Williamsburg. As big a scandal as it was for a man of Chiswell’s stature to be charged with murder, an even bigger scandal unfolded once Chiswell arrived in Williamsburg. It is customary that no bail is granted to murder suspects. In this case, three judges decided otherwise and allowed Chiswell to go home until his trial. It should be noted that those judges are all well-acquainted with Chiswell; one is even one of his business partners — William Byrd III of the Westover plantation in Charles City County.
The public reaction has been intense. The press has railed against the judges, accusing them of favoritism toward one of their own. Crowds have gathered outside Chiswell’s home, determined to give him no peace. Chiswell is as confined to his home as he would have been to a jail cell, just presumably in more comfort.
The public seemingly cannot stop talking about this case. Murder is a rare thing here in colonial Virginia, especially a case involving such prominent citizens. The Virginia Gazette in Williamsburg has published a diagram of the crime scene, believed to be the first time such a thing has ever been done in the history of the printing press. What has been heralded as “the trial of the century” is set to begin in October. Regardless of the outcome, the Routledge murder has exposed some ugly truths about Virginia — the fault lines that run through our society between gentlemen debtors and merchant creditors, all emanating from a colony of (mostly) Englishmen forced to remain economically subservient to our kinsmen across the sea.
Breaking news: Chiswell dies by his own hand
As we go to press, we’ve received late-breaking word that Chiswell was found dead in his home Oct. 14, the day before he was set to go on trial. Some accounts say Chiswell killed himself. This comes amid other rumors emanating from the capital about a political scandal that reportedly ensnared Chiswell even more tightly in shame and disgrace. We hope to have more to report on this in our next dispatch.
Breaking news: Speaker Robinson loaned public funds to his friends; debt scandal engulfs Williamsburg
When John Robinson, the most powerful speaker of the House of Burgesses that Virginia has ever known, died in May, his passing was mourned statewide. Now, as executors seek to administer his estate, it’s been discovered that Robinson used his position to loan funds from the public treasury to many of his friends, who were laboring under debts they didn’t want to acknowledge publicly. Of course, those improper loans also had the effect of securing Robinson more political allies, which further helped to conceal these loans.
A full inquiry is now underway, but it seems likely this will only expose how indebted some of our leading citizens are.
Sources consulted include: “Forced Founders: Indians, Debtors, Slaves & The Making of the American Revolution in Virginia” by Woody Holton, Encyclopedia Virginia and Emerging Revolutionary War Era.