By the time of the Revolutionary crisis, no concept better exemplified illegitimate power than tyranny – a topic familiar in the hyperbolic propaganda of that era. But if tyranny was the antithesis, how did eighteenth-century Americans imagine appropriate power? In this book, Steven Bullock explores those new concepts of good leadership in the earlier part of the century. Drawing important connections between the vast scholarly literatures on refinement, political theory, and humanitarianism, he examines how “views of limited political power developed in conjunction with a model of social relationships stressing personal refinement and emotional restraint” (2). He ultimately argues that refinement was not merely a mode of controlling oneself; nor was it simply the means by which colonial elites distinguished themselves from everyone else. More important, beginning in the early eighteenth century, politeness modeled an idealized form of “soft” power over others that favored the demonstration of sensitivity to the people and, importantly, rejected arbitrary or emotionally erratic leaders. This new idealized leadership demonstrated inclusiveness to larger numbers of other elites rather than adhering to the older model of a singular, all-powerful man. Bullock ultimately argues that politeness was political – and that in the wake of the Glorious Revolution, such views of proper leadership and behavior had powerful underpinnings.

The story of Tea Sets and Tyranny takes place primarily in the first half of the eighteenth century, using biographically oriented chapters to focus on moments of conflict or change regarding elite self-presentation. Take the troubled career of Francis Nicholson, the royally appointed governor of Virginia, and the subject of the first chapter. Possessing a violent temper, Nicholson used “continual roaring & thundering, cursing & swearing, base, abusive, billingsgate Language,” according to his closest ally (21). He shocked his colleagues by insulting English laws and referring to the Magna Charta as the “Magna Farta” (43). At the turn of the eighteenth century, Nicholson's colonial peers increasingly viewed his rages as indicative of the wrong kind of leadership, even a throwback to a King James II mode of arbitrary power. As a result, his rocky career in Virginia reflected not merely poor political choices, but a failure of personal comportment at a moment when an increasingly effective group of other elites –a group of men more concerned with the politics of refinement – gained the power to push back against one who failed to meet their new standards.

In subsequent chapters that span the British mainland colonies, Bullock examines the North Carolina Indian agent, Thomas Nairne, who found himself charged with treason by the colony's governor; William Byrd II's changing efforts to portray himself as an ideal leader via subsequent versions of his History of the Dividing Line betwixt Virginia and North Carolina; Massachusetts governor Jonathan Belcher, who struggled to portray himself satisfactorily to both Parliament and his colonial inhabitants; the con man Tom Bell, whose ruses relied upon all the right clothes and manners; and the South Carolina elite matron Eliza Lucas Pinckney, whose performance of motherhood self-consciously anchored together contemporary Lockean ideas about “soft” power, ideal childhood development, and politeness. As the chapters gradually move forward to about mid-century, the author draws conclusions about the subtle shifts in the politics of politeness. He reserves for his epilogue a gesture forward to the Revolution and beyond, by which time Americans had so fully rejected a tyrannical model of power that they could no longer recognize the political implications of politeness that undergirded it.

The author also folds in meaningful corollaries to his central argument. Refinement arose at the same time as the British radically expanded their dedication to both imperial government and slavery, a fact that ineluctably shaped concepts of power. In addition, he shows that those colonists who were sympathetic to the Whigs were far more likely to embrace the politics of politeness than the Tories. In other words, political and cultural leaders’ style was increasingly bound up with the substance of their leadership, a fact that mattered both in intimate settings and on an imperial scale.

Painting on a big canvas, Bullock's argument is persuasive and important. But his choice to convey this story via biographical accounts can blunt the impact of his insights. With each chapter offering lush, readable details about his subjects and the nuanced political context of each colony, the trees sometimes overwhelm the forest. The chapters in which his argument shines through – especially the terrific portrayal of William Byrd II's transformations in his own self-portrayal as a model of “soft power” – clearly illustrate what an important intervention this book makes. At other points, however, I questioned whether the biographical focus ultimately threw up a fog to blur the grander story. I also wondered why he chose not to include a chapter on the pre-Revolutionary crisis of imperial governance, considering how much the book begs you to anticipate those colonial protests, petitions, and boycotts. Nevertheless, this elegantly written book ultimately weaves between familiar literatures to illuminate the significant ties between politics and politeness.