Still further, in the way of critical analysis, should be cited the opinion of a distinguished student and master of eloquence, the Rev. Archibald Alexander of Princeton, who, having more than once heard Patrick Henry, wrote out, with a scholar's precision, the results of his own keen study into the great advocate's success in subduing men, and especially jurymen:—

"The power of Henry's eloquence was due, first, to the greatness of his emotion and passion, accompanied with a versatility which enabled him to assume at once any emotion or passion which was suited to his ends. Not less indispensable, secondly, was a matchless perfection of the organs of expression, including the entire apparatus of voice, intonation, pause, gesture, attitude, and indescribable play of countenance. In no instance did he ever indulge in an expression that was not instantly recognized as nature itself; yet some of his penetrating and subduing tones were absolutely peculiar, and as inimitable as they were indescribable. These were felt by every hearer, in all their force. His mightiest feelings were sometimes indicated and communicated by a long pause, aided by an eloquent aspect, and some significant use of his finger. The sympathy between mind and mind is inexplicable. Where the channels of communication are open, the faculty of revealing inward passion great, and the expression of it sudden and visible, the effects are extraordinary. Let these shocks of influence be repeated again and again, and all other opinions and ideas are for the moment absorbed or excluded; the whole mind is brought into unison with that of the speaker; and the spell-bound listener, till the cause ceases, is under an entire fascination. Then perhaps the charm ceases, upon reflection, and the infatuated hearer resumes his ordinary state.

"Patrick Henry, of course, owed much to his singular insight into the feelings of the common mind. In great cases he scanned his jury, and formed his mental estimate; on this basis he founded his appeals to their predilections and character. It is what other advocates do, in a lesser degree. When he knew that there were conscientious or religious men among the jury, he would most solemnly address himself to their sense of right, and would adroitly bring in scriptural citations. If this handle was not offered, he would lay bare the sensibility of patriotism. Thus it was, when he succeeded in rescuing the man who had deliberately shot down a neighbor; who moreover lay under the odious suspicion of being a Tory, and who was proved to have refused supplies to a brigade of the American army."[430]

Passing now from these general descriptions to particular instances, we may properly request Dr. Alexander to remain somewhat longer in the witness-stand, and to give us, in detail, some of his own recollections of Patrick Henry. His testimony, accordingly, is in these words:—

"From my earliest childhood I had been accustomed to hear of the eloquence of Patrick Henry. On this subject there existed but one opinion in the country. The power of his eloquence was felt equally by the learned and the unlearned. No man who ever heard him speak, on any important occasion, could fail to admit his uncommon power over the minds of his hearers.... Being then a young man, just entering on a profession in which good speaking was very important, it was natural for me to observe the oratory of celebrated men. I was anxious to ascertain the true secret of their power; or what it was which enabled them to sway the minds of hearers, almost at their will.

"In executing a mission from the synod of Virginia, in the year 1794, I had to pass through the county of Prince Edward, where Mr. Henry then resided. Understanding that he was to appear before the circuit court, which met in that county, in defence of three men charged with murder, I determined to seize the opportunity of observing for myself the eloquence of this extraordinary orator. It was with some difficulty I obtained a seat in front of the bar, where I could have a full view of the speaker, as well as hear him distinctly. But I had to submit to a severe penance in gratifying my curiosity; for the whole day was occupied with the examination of witnesses, in which Mr. Henry was aided by two other lawyers. In person, Mr. Henry was lean rather than fleshy. He was rather above than below the common height, but had a stoop in the shoulders which prevented him from appearing as tall as he really was. In his moments of animation, he had the habit of straightening his frame, and adding to his apparent stature. He wore a brown wig, which exhibited no indication of any great care in the dressing. Over his shoulders he wore a brown camlet cloak. Under this his clothing was black, something the worse for wear. The expression of his countenance was that of solemnity and deep earnestness. His mind appeared to be always absorbed in what, for the time, occupied his attention. His forehead was high and spacious, and the skin of his face more than usually wrinkled for a man of fifty. His eyes were small and deeply set in his head, but were of a bright blue color, and twinkled much in their sockets. In short, Mr. Henry's appearance had nothing very remarkable, as he sat at rest. You might readily have taken him for a common planter, who cared very little about his personal appearance. In his manners he was uniformly respectful and courteous. Candles were brought into the court-house, when the examination of the witnesses closed; and the judges put it to the option of the bar whether they would go on with the argument that night or adjourn until the next day. Paul Carrington, Junior, the attorney for the State, a man of large size, and uncommon dignity of person and manner, and also an accomplished lawyer, professed his willingness to proceed immediately, while the testimony was fresh in the minds of all. Now for the first time I heard Mr. Henry make anything of a speech; and though it was short, it satisfied me of one thing, which I had particularly desired to have decided: namely, whether like a player he merely assumed the appearance of feeling. His manner of addressing the court was profoundly respectful. He would be willing to proceed with the trial, 'but,' said he, 'my heart is so oppressed with the weight of responsibility which rests upon me, having the lives of three fellow citizens depending, probably, on the exertions which I may be able to make in their behalf (here he turned to the prisoners behind him), that I do not feel able to proceed to-night. I hope the court will indulge me, and postpone the trial till the morning.' The impression made by these few words was such as I assure myself no one can ever conceive by seeing them in print. In the countenance, action, and intonation of the speaker, there was expressed such an intensity of feeling, that all my doubts were dispelled; never again did I question whether Henry felt, or only acted a feeling. Indeed, I experienced an instantaneous sympathy with him in the emotions which he expressed; and I have no doubt the same sympathy was felt by every hearer.

"As a matter of course, the proceedings were deferred till the next morning. I was early at my post; the judges were soon on the bench, and the prisoners at the bar. Mr. Carrington ... opened with a clear and dignified speech, and presented the evidence to the jury. Everything seemed perfectly plain. Two brothers and a brother-in-law met two other persons in pursuit of a slave, supposed to be harbored by the brothers. After some altercation and mutual abuse, one of the brothers, whose name was John Ford, raised a loaded gun which he was carrying, and presenting it at the breast of one of the other pair, shot him dead, in open day. There was no doubt about the fact. Indeed, it was not denied. There had been no other provocation than opprobrious words. It is presumed that the opinion of every juror was made up from merely hearing the testimony; as Tom Harvey, the principal witness, who was acting as constable on the occasion, appeared to be a respectable man. For the clearer understanding of what follows, it must be observed that said constable, in order to distinguish him from another of the name, was commonly called Butterwood Harvey, as he lived on Butterwood Creek. Mr. Henry, it is believed, understanding that the people were on their guard against his faculty of moving the passions and through them influencing the judgment, did not resort to the pathetic as much as was his usual practice in criminal cases. His main object appeared to be, throughout, to cast discredit on the testimony of Tom Harvey. This he attempted by causing the law respecting riots to be read by one of his assistants. It appeared in evidence that Tom Harvey had taken upon him to act as constable, without being in commission; and that with a posse of men he had entered the house of one of the Fords in search of the negro, and had put Mrs. Ford, in her husband's absence, into a great terror, while she was in a very delicate condition, near the time of her confinement. As he descanted on the evidence, he would often turn to Tom Harvey—a large, bold-looking man—and with the most sarcastic look would call him by some name of contempt; 'this Butterwood Tom Harvey,' 'this would-be constable,' etc. By such expressions, his contempt for the man was communicated to the hearers. I own I felt it gaining on me, in spite of my better judgment; so that before he was done, the impression was strong on my mind that Butterwood Harvey was undeserving of the smallest credit. This impression, however, I found I could counteract the moment I had time for reflection. The only part of the speech in which he manifested his power of touching the feelings strongly, was where he dwelt on the irruption of the company into Ford's house, in circumstances so perilous to the solitary wife. This appeal to the sensibility of husbands—and he knew that all the jury stood in this relation—was overwhelming. If the verdict could have been rendered immediately after this burst of the pathetic, every man, at least every husband, in the house, would have been for rejecting Harvey's testimony, if not for hanging him forthwith."[431]

A very critical and cool-headed witness respecting Patrick Henry's powers as an advocate was Judge Spencer Roane, who presided in one of the courts in which the orator was much engaged after his return to the bar in 1786:—

"When I saw him there," writes Judge Roane, "he must necessarily have been very rusty; yet I considered him as a good lawyer.... It was as a criminal lawyer that his eloquence had the finest scope.... He was a perfect master of the passions of his auditory, whether in the tragic or the comic line. The tones of his voice, to say nothing of his matter and gesture, were insinuated into the feelings of his hearers, in a manner that baffled all description. It seemed to operate by mere sympathy, and by his tones alone it seemed to me that he could make you cry or laugh at pleasure. Yet his gesture came powerfully in aid, and, if necessary, would approach almost to the ridiculous.... I will try to give some account of his tragic and comic effect in two instances that came before me. About the year 1792, one Holland killed a young man in Botetourt.... Holland had gone up from Louisa as a schoolmaster, but had turned out badly, and was very unpopular. The killing was in the night, and was generally believed to be murder.... At the instance of the father and for a reasonable fee, Mr. H. undertook to go to Greenbrier court to defend Holland. Mr. Winston and myself were the judges. Such were the prejudices there, as I was afterwards informed by Thomas Madison, that the people there declared that even Patrick Henry need not come to defend Holland, unless he brought a jury with him. On the day of the trial the court-house was crowded, and I did not move from my seat for fourteen hours, and had no wish to do so. The examination took up a great part of the time, and the lawyers were probably exhausted. Breckenridge was eloquent, but Henry left no dry eye in the court-house. The case, I believe, was murder, though, possibly, manslaughter only; and Henry laid hold of this possibility with such effect as to make all forget that Holland had killed the storekeeper, and presented the deplorable case of the jury's killing Holland, an innocent man. He also presented, as it were, at the clerk's table, old Holland and his wife, who were then in Louisa, and asked what must be the feeling of this venerable pair at this awful moment, and what the consequences to them of a mistaken verdict affecting the life of their son. He caused the jury to lose sight of the murder they were then trying, and weep with old Holland and his wife, whom he painted, and perhaps proved to be, very respectable. All this was done in a manner so solemn and touching, and a tone so irresistible, that it was impossible for the stoutest heart not to take sides with the criminal.... The result of the trial was, that, after a retirement of an half or quarter of an hour, the jury brought in a verdict of not guilty! But on being reminded by the court that they might find an inferior degree of homicide, they brought in a verdict of manslaughter.

"Mr. Henry was equally successful in the comic line.... The case was that a wagoner and the plaintiff were travelling to Richmond, and the wagoner knocked down a turkey and put it into his wagon. Complaint was made to the defendant, a justice; both the parties were taken up; and the wagoner agreed to take a whipping rather than be sent to jail. But the plaintiff refused. The justice, however, gave him, also, a small whipping; and for this the suit was brought. The plaintiff's plea was that he was wholly innocent of the act committed. Mr. H., on the contrary, contended that he was a party aiding and assisting. In the course of his remarks he thus expressed himself: 'But, gentlemen of the jury, this plaintiff tells you that he had nothing to do with the turkey. I dare say, gentlemen,—not until it was roasted!' and he pronounced the word—'roasted'—with such rotundity of voice, and comicalness of manner and gesture, that it threw every one into a fit of laughter at the plaintiff, who stood up in the place usually allotted to the criminals; and the defendant was let off with little or no damages."[432]

Finally, we must recall, in illustration of our present subject, an anecdote left on record in 1813, by the Rev. Conrad Speece, highly distinguished during his lifetime, in the Presbyterian communion:—

"Many years ago," he then wrote, "I was at the trial, in one of our district courts, of a man charged with murder. The case was briefly this: the prisoner had gone, in execution of his office as a constable, to arrest a slave who had been guilty of some misconduct, and bring him to justice. Expecting opposition in the business, the constable took several men with him, some of them armed. They found the slave on the plantation of his master, within view of the house, and proceeded to seize and bind him. His mistress, seeing the arrest, came down and remonstrated vehemently against it. Finding her efforts unavailing, she went off to a barn where her husband was, who was presently perceived running briskly to the house. It was known he always kept a loaded rifle over his door. The constable now desired his company to remain where they were, taking care to keep the slave in custody, while he himself would go to the house to prevent mischief. He accordingly ran towards the house. When he arrived within a short distance of it, the master appeared coming out of the door with his rifle in his hand. Some witnesses said that as he came to the door he drew the cock of the piece, and was seen in the act of raising it to the position of firing. But upon these points there was not an entire agreement in the evidence. The constable, standing near a small building in the yard, at this instant fired, and the fire had a fatal effect. No previous malice was proved against him; and his plea upon the trial was, that he had taken the life of his assailant in necessary self-defence.

"A great mass of testimony was delivered. This was commented upon with considerable ability by the lawyer for the commonwealth, and by another lawyer engaged by the friends of the deceased for the prosecution. The prisoner was also defended, in elaborate speeches, by two respectable advocates. These proceedings brought the day to a close. The general whisper through a crowded house was, that the man was guilty and could not be saved.

"About dusk, candles were brought, and Henry arose. His manner was ... plain, simple, and entirely unassuming. 'Gentlemen of the jury,' said he, 'I dare say we are all very much fatigued with this tedious trial. The prisoner at the bar has been well defended already; but it is my duty to offer you some further observations in behalf of this unfortunate man. I shall aim at brevity. But should I take up more of your time than you expect, I hope you will hear me with patience, when you consider that blood is concerned.'

"I cannot admit the possibility that any one, who never heard Henry speak, should be made fully to conceive the force of impression which he gave to these few words, 'blood is concerned.' I had been on my feet through the day, pushed about in the crowd, and was excessively weary. I was strongly of opinion, too, notwithstanding all the previous defensive pleadings, that the prisoner was guilty of murder; and I felt anxious to know how the matter would terminate. Yet when Henry had uttered these words, my feelings underwent an instantaneous change. I found everything within me answering,—'Yes, since blood is concerned, in the name of all that is righteous, go on; we will hear you with patience until the rising of to-morrow's sun!' This bowing of the soul must have been universal; for the profoundest silence reigned, as if our very breath had been suspended. The spell of the magician was upon us, and we stood like statues around him. Under the touch of his genius, every particular of the story assumed a new aspect, and his cause became continually more bright and promising. At length he arrived at the fatal act itself: 'You have been told, gentlemen, that the prisoner was bound by every obligation to avoid the supposed necessity of firing, by leaping behind a house near which he stood at that moment. Had he been attacked with a club, or with stones, the argument would have been unanswerable, and I should feel myself compelled to give up the defence in despair. But surely I need not tell you, gentlemen, how wide is the difference between sticks or stones, and double-triggered, loaded rifles cocked at your breast!' The effect of this terrific image, exhibited in this great orator's peerless manner, cannot be described. I dare not attempt to delineate the paroxysm of emotion which it excited in every heart. The result of the whole was, that the prisoner was acquitted; with the perfect approbation, I believe, of the numerous assembly who attended the trial. What was it that gave such transcendent force to the eloquence of Henry? His reasoning powers were good; but they have been equalled, and more than equalled, by those of many other men. His imagination was exceedingly quick, and commanded all the stores of nature, as materials for illustrating his subject. His voice and delivery were inexpressibly happy. But his most irresistible charm was the vivid feeling of his cause, with which he spoke. Such feeling infallibly communicates itself to the breast of the hearer."[433]

FOOTNOTES:

[416] Winston, in Wirt, 260.

[417] Ware, Administrator of Jones, Plaintiff in Error, v. Hylton et al., Curtis, Decisions, i. 164-229.

[418] Wirt, 316-318.

[419] Ibid. 312.

[420] Edward Fontaine, MS.

[421] Howe, Hist. Coll. Va. 221.

[422] Wirt, 312.

[423] Wirt, 320-321; 368-369.

[424] McRee, Life of Iredell, ii. 394.

[425] Memorandum of J. W. Bouldin, in Hist. Mag. for 1873, 274-275.

[426] Howe, Hist. Coll. Va. 222.

[427] Judge Spencer Roane, MS.

[428] McRee, Life of Iredell, ii. 395.

[429] Wirt, 75-76.

[430] J. W. Alexander, Life of A. Alexander, 191-192.

[431] J. W. Alexander, Life of Archibald Alexander, 183-187.

[432] MS.

[433] Howe. Hist. Coll. Va. 222-223.



CHAPTER XXI

IN RETIREMENT

In the year 1794, being then fifty-eight years old, and possessed at last of a competent fortune, Patrick Henry withdrew from his profession, and resolved to spend in retirement the years that should remain to him on earth. Removing from Prince Edward County, he lived for a short time at Long Island, in Campbell County; but in 1795 he finally established himself in the county of Charlotte, on an estate called Red Hill,—an estate which continued to be his home during the rest of his life, which gave to him his burial place, and which still remains in the possession of his descendants.

The rapidity with which he had thus risen out of pecuniary embarrassments was not due alone to the earnings of his profession during those few years; for while his eminence as an advocate commanded the highest fees, probably, that were then paid in Virginia, it is apparent from his account-books that those fees were not at all exorbitant, and for a lawyer of his standing would not now be regarded as even considerable. The truth is that, subsequently to his youthful and futile attempts at business, he had so profited by the experiences of his life as to have become a sagacious and an expert man of business. "He could buy or sell a horse, or a negro, as well as anybody, and was peculiarly a judge of the value and quality of lands."[434] It seems to have been chiefly from his investments in lands, made by him with foresight and judgment, and from which, for a long time, he had reaped only burdens and anxieties, that he derived the wealth that secured for him the repose of his last years. The charge long afterward made by Jefferson, that Patrick Henry's fortune came either from a mean use of his right to pay his land debts in a depreciated currency "not worth oak-leaves," or from any connection on his part with the profligate and infamous Yazoo speculation, has been shown, by ample evidence, to be untrue.[435]

The descriptions which have come down to us of the life led by the old statesman in those last five years of retirement make a picture pleasant to look upon. The house at Red Hill, which then became his home, "is beautifully situated on an elevated ridge, the dividing line of Campbell and Charlotte, within a quarter of a mile of the junction of Falling River with the Staunton. From it the valley of the Staunton stretches southward about three miles, varying from a quarter to nearly a mile in width, and of an oval-like form. Through most fertile meadows waving in their golden luxuriance, slowly winds the river, overhung by mossy foliage, while on all sides gently sloping hills, rich in verdure, enclose the whole, and impart to it an air of seclusion and repose. From the brow of the hill, west of the house, is a scene of an entirely different character: the Blue Ridge, with the lofty peaks of Otter, appears in the horizon at a distance of nearly sixty miles." Under the trees which shaded his lawn, and "in full view of the beautiful valley beneath, the orator was accustomed, in pleasant weather, to sit mornings and evenings, with his chair leaning against one of their trunks, and a can of cool spring-water by his side, from which he took frequent draughts. Occasionally, he walked to and fro in the yard from one clump of trees to the other, buried in revery, at which times he was never interrupted."[436] "His great delight," says one of his sons-in-law, "was in conversation, in the society of his friends and family, and in the resources of his own mind."[437] Thus beneath his own roof, or under the shadow of his own trees, he loved to sit, like a patriarch, with his family and his guests gathered affectionately around him, and there, free from ceremony as from care, to give himself up to the interchange of congenial thought whether grave or playful, and even to the sports of the children. "His visitors," writes one of them, "have not unfrequently caught him lying on the floor, with a group of these little ones climbing over him in every direction, or dancing around him with obstreperous mirth, to the tune of his violin, while the only contest seemed to be who should make the most noise."[438]

The evidence of contemporaries respecting the sweetness of his spirit and his great lovableness in private life is most abundant. One who knew him well in his family, and who was also quite willing to be critical upon occasion, has said:—

"With respect to the domestic character of Mr. Henry, nothing could be more amiable. In every relation, as a husband, father, master, and neighbor, he was entirely exemplary. As to the disposition of Mr. Henry, it was the best imaginable. I am positive that I never saw him in a passion, nor apparently even out of temper. Circumstances which would have highly irritated other men had no such visible effect on him. He was always calm and collected; and the rude attacks of his adversaries in debate only whetted the poignancy of his satire.... Shortly after the Constitution was adopted, a series of the most abusive and scurrilous pieces came out against him, under the signature of Decius. They were supposed to be written by John Nicholas, ... with the assistance of other more important men. They assailed Mr. Henry's conduct in the Convention, and slandered his character by various stories hatched up against him. These pieces were extremely hateful to all Mr. Henry's friends, and, indeed, to a great portion of the community. I was at his house in Prince Edward during the thickest of them.... He evinced no feeling on the occasion, and far less condescended to parry the effects on the public mind. It was too puny a contest for him, and he reposed upon the consciousness of his own integrity.... With many sublime virtues, he had no vice that I knew or ever heard of, and scarcely a foible. I have thought, indeed, that he was too much attached to property,—a defect, however, which might be excused when we reflect on the largeness of a beloved family, and the straitened circumstances in which he had been confined during a great part of his life."[439]

Concerning his personal habits, we have, through his grandson, Patrick Henry Fontaine, some testimony which has the merit of placing the great man somewhat more familiarly before us. "He was," we are told, "very abstemious in his diet, and used no wine or alcoholic stimulants. Distressed and alarmed at the increase of drunkenness after the Revolutionary war, he did everything in his power to arrest the vice. He thought that the introduction of a harmless beverage, as a substitute for distilled spirits, would be beneficial. To effect this object, he ordered from his merchant in Scotland a consignment of barley, and a Scotch brewer and his wife to cultivate the grain, and make small beer. To render the beverage fashionable and popular, he always had it upon his table while he was governor during his last term of office; and he continued its use, but drank nothing stronger, while he lived."[440]

Though he was always a most loyal Virginian, he became, particularly in his later years, very unfriendly to that renowned and consolatory herb so long associated with the fame and fortune of his native State.

"In his old age, the condition of his nervous system made the scent of a tobacco-pipe very disagreeable to him. The old colored house-servants were compelled to hide their pipes, and rid themselves of the scent of tobacco, before they ventured to approach him.... They protested that they had not smoked, or seen a pipe; and he invariably proved the culprit guilty by following the scent, and leading them to the corn-cob pipes hid in some crack or cranny, which he made them take and throw instantly into the kitchen fire, without reforming their habits, or correcting the evil, which is likely to continue as long as tobacco will grow."[441]

Concerning another of his personal habits, during the years thus passed in retirement at Red Hill, there is a charming description, also derived from the grandson to whom we are indebted for the facts just mentioned:—

"His residence overlooked a large field in the bottom of Staunton River, the most of which could be seen from his yard. He rose early; and in the mornings of the spring, summer, and fall, before sunrise, while the air was cool and calm, reflecting clearly and distinctly the sounds of the lowing herds and singing birds, he stood upon an eminence, and gave orders and directions to his servants at work a half mile distant from him. The strong, musical voices of the negroes responded to him. During this elocutionary morning exercise, his enunciation was clear and distinct enough to be heard over an area which ten thousand people could not have filled; and the tones of his voice were as melodious as the notes of an Alpine horn."[442]

Of course the house-servants and the field-servants just mentioned were slaves; and, from the beginning to the end of his life, Patrick Henry was a slaveholder. He bought slaves, he sold slaves, and, along with the other property—the lands, the houses, the cattle—bequeathed by him to his heirs, were numerous human beings of the African race. What, then, was the opinion respecting slavery held by this great champion of the rights of man? "Is it not amazing"—thus he wrote in 1773—"that, at a time when the rights of humanity are defined and understood with precision, in a country above all others fond of liberty, in such an age, we find men, professing a religion the most humane, mild, meek, gentle, and generous, adopting a principle as repugnant to humanity as it is inconsistent with the Bible and destructive to liberty?... Would any one believe that I am master of slaves of my own purchase? I am drawn along by the general inconvenience of living without them. I will not, I cannot, justify it; however culpable my conduct, I will so far pay my 'devoir' to virtue as to own the excellence and rectitude of her precepts, and to lament my want of conformity to them. I believe a time will come when an opportunity will be offered to abolish this lamentable evil: everything we can do is to improve it, if it happens in our day; if not, let us transmit to our descendants, together with our slaves, a pity for their unhappy lot, and an abhorrence of slavery. We owe to the purity of our religion, to show that it is at variance with that law which warrants slavery."[443] After the Revolution, and before the adoption of the Constitution, he earnestly advocated, in the Virginia House of Delegates, some method of emancipation; and even in the Convention of 1788, where he argued against the Constitution on the ground that it obviously conferred upon the general government, in an emergency, that power of emancipation which, in his opinion, should be retained by the States, he still avowed his hostility to slavery, and at the same time his inability to see any practicable means of ending it: "Slavery is detested: we feel its fatal effects,—we deplore it with all the pity of humanity.... As we ought with gratitude to admire that decree of Heaven which has numbered us among the free, we ought to lament and deplore the necessity of holding our fellow-men in bondage. But is it practicable, by any human means, to liberate them without producing the most dreadful and ruinous consequences?"[444]

During all the years of his retirement, his great fame drew to him many strangers, who came to pay their homage to him, to look upon his face, to listen to his words. Such guests were always received by him with a cordiality that was unmistakable, and so modest and simple as to put them at once at their ease. Of course they desired most of all to hear him talk of his own past life, and of the great events in which he had borne so brilliant a part; but whenever he was persuaded to do so, it was always with the most quiet references to himself. "No man," says one who knew him well, "ever vaunted less of his achievements than Mr. H. I hardly ever heard him speak of those great achievements which form the prominent part of his biography. As for boasting, he was entirely a stranger to it, unless it be that, in his latter days, he seemed proud of the goodness of his lands, and, I believe, wished to be thought wealthy. It is my opinion that he was better pleased to be flattered as to his wealth than as to his great talents. This I have accounted for by recollecting that he had long been under narrow and difficult circumstances as to property, from which he was at length happily relieved; whereas there never was a time when his talents had not always been conspicuous, though he always seemed unconscious of them."[445]

It should not be supposed that, in his final withdrawal from public and professional labors, he surrendered himself to the enjoyment of domestic happiness, without any positive occupation of the mind. From one of his grandsons, who was much with him in those days, the tradition is derived that, besides "setting a good example of honesty, benevolence, hospitality, and every social virtue," he assisted "in the education of his younger children," and especially devoted much time "to earnest efforts to establish true Christianity in our country."[446] He gave himself more than ever to the study of the Bible, as well as of two or three of the great English divines, particularly Tillotson, Butler, and Sherlock. The sermons of the latter, he declared, had removed "all his doubts of the truth of Christianity;" and from a volume which contained them, and which was full of his pencilled notes, he was accustomed to read "every Sunday evening to his family; after which they all joined in sacred music, while he accompanied them on the violin."[447]

There seems to have been no time in his life, after his arrival at manhood, when Patrick Henry was not regarded by his private acquaintances as a positively religious person. Moreover, while he was most tolerant of all forms of religion, and was on peculiarly friendly terms with their ministers, to whose preaching he often listened, it is inaccurate to say, as Wirt has done, that, though he was a Christian, he was so "after a form of his own;" that "he was never attached to any particular religious society, and never ... communed with any church."[448] On the contrary, from a grandson who spent many years in his household comes the tradition that "his parents were members of the Protestant Episcopal Church, of which his uncle, Patrick Henry, was a minister;" that "he was baptized and made a member of it in early life;" and that "he lived and died an exemplary member of it."[449] Furthermore, in 1830, the Rev. Charles Dresser, rector of Antrim Parish, Halifax County, Virginia, wrote that the widow of Patrick Henry told him that her husband used to receive "the communion as often as an opportunity was offered, and on such occasions always fasted until after he had communicated, and spent the day in the greatest retirement. This he did both while governor and afterward."[450] In a letter to one of his daughters, written in 1796, he makes this touching confession:—

"Amongst other strange things said of me, I hear it is said by the deists that I am one of the number; and, indeed, that some good people think I am no Christian. This thought gives me much more pain than the appellation of Tory; because I think religion of infinitely higher importance than politics; and I find much cause to reproach myself that I have lived so long, and have given no decided and public proofs of my being a Christian. But, indeed, my dear child, this is a character which I prize far above all this world has, or can boast."[451]

While he thus spoke, humbly and sorrowfully, of his religious position as a thing so little known to the public that it could be entirely misunderstood by a portion of them, it is plain that no one who had seen him in the privacy of his life at home could have had any misunderstanding upon that subject. For years before his retirement from the law, it had been his custom, we are told, to spend "one hour every day ... in private devotion. His hour of prayer was the close of the day, including sunset; ... and during that sacred hour, none of his family intruded upon his privacy."[452]

As regards his religious faith, Patrick Henry, while never ostentatious of it, was always ready to avow it, and to defend it. The French alliance during our Revolution, and our close intercourse with France immediately afterward, hastened among us the introduction of certain French writers who were assailants of Christianity, and who soon set up among the younger and perhaps brighter men of the country the fashion of casting off, as parts of an outworn and pitiful superstition, the religious ideas of their childhood, and even the morality which had found its strongest sanctions in those ideas. Upon all this, Patrick Henry looked with grief and alarm. In his opinion, a far deeper, a far wiser and nobler handling of all the immense questions involved in the problem of the truth of Christianity was furnished by such English writers as Sherlock and Bishop Butler, and, for popular use, even Soame Jenyns. Therefore, as French scepticism then had among the Virginia lawyers and politicians its diligent missionaries, so, with the energy and directness that always characterized him, he determined to confront it, if possible, with an equal diligence; and he then deliberately made himself, while still a Virginia lawyer and politician, a missionary also,—a missionary on behalf of rational and enlightened Christian faith. Thus during his second term as governor he caused to be printed, on his own account, an edition of Soame Jenyns's "View of the Internal Evidence of Christianity;" likewise, an edition of Butler's "Analogy;" and thenceforward, particularly among the young men of Virginia, assailed as they were by the fashionable scepticism, this illustrious colporteur was active in the defence of Christianity, not only by his own sublime and persuasive arguments, but by the distribution, as the fit occasion offered, of one or the other of these two books.

Accordingly when, during the first two years of his retirement, Thomas Paine's "Age of Reason" made its appearance, the old statesman was moved to write out a somewhat elaborate treatise in defence of the truth of Christianity. This treatise it was his purpose to have published. "He read the manuscript to his family as he progressed with it, and completed it a short time before his death." When it was finished, however, being "diffident about his own work," and impressed, also, by the great ability of the replies to Paine which were then appearing in England, "he directed his wife to destroy" what he had written. She "complied literally with his directions," and thus put beyond the chance of publication a work which seemed, to some who heard it, to be "the most eloquent and unanswerable argument in the defence of the Bible which was ever written."[453]

Finally, in his last will and testament, bearing the date of November 20, 1798, and written throughout, as he says, "with my own hand," he chose to insert a touching affirmation of his own deep faith in Christianity. After distributing his estate among his descendants, he thus concludes: "This is all the inheritance I can give to my dear family. The religion of Christ can give them one which will make them rich indeed."[454]

It is not to be imagined that this deep seclusion and these eager religious studies implied in Patrick Henry any forgetfulness of the political concerns of his own country, or any indifference to those mighty events which, during those years, were taking place in Europe, and were reacting with tremendous effect upon the thought, the emotion, and even the material interests of America. Neither did he succeed in thus preserving the retirement which he had resolved upon, without having to resist the attempts of both political parties to draw him forth again into official life. All these matters, indeed, are involved in the story of his political attitude from the close of his struggle for amending the Constitution down to the very close of his life,—a story which used to be told with angry vituperation on one side, perhaps with some meek apologies on the other. Certainly, the day for such comment is long past. In the disinterestedness which the lapse of time has now made an easy virtue for us, we may see, plainly enough, that such ungentle words as "apostate" and "turncoat," with which his name used to be plentifully assaulted, were but the missiles of partisan excitement; and that by his act of intellectual readjustment with respect to the new conditions forced upon human society, on both sides of the Atlantic, by the French Revolution, he developed no occasion for apologies, since he therein did nothing that was unusual at that time among honest and thoughtful men everywhere, and nothing that was inconsistent with the professions or the tendencies of his own previous life. It becomes our duty, however, to trace this story over again, as concisely as possible, but in the light of much historical evidence that has never hitherto been presented in connection with it.

Upon the adoption, in 1791, of the first ten amendments to the Constitution, every essential objection which he had formerly urged against that instrument was satisfied; and there then remained no good reason why he should any longer hold himself aloof from the cordial support of the new government, especially as directed, first by Washington, and afterward by John Adams,—two men with whom, both personally and politically, he had always been in great harmony, excepting only upon this single matter of the Constitution in its original form. Undoubtedly, the contest which he had waged on that question had been so hot and so bitter that, even after it was ended, some time would be required for his recovery from the soreness of spirit, from the tone of suspicion and even of enmity, which it had occasioned. Accordingly, in the correspondence and other records of the time, we catch some glimpses of him, which show that even after Congress had passed the great amendments, and after their approval by the States had become a thing assured, he still looked askance at the administration, and particularly at some of the financial measures proposed by Hamilton.[455] Nevertheless, as year by year went on, and as Washington and his associates continued to deal fairly, wisely, and, on the whole, successfully, with the enormous problems which they encountered; moreover, as Jefferson and Madison gradually drew off from Washington, and formed a party in opposition, which seemed to connive at the proceedings of Genet, and to encourage the formation among us of political clubs in apparent sympathy with the wildest and most anarchic doctrines which were then flung into words and into deeds in the streets of Paris, it happened that Patrick Henry found himself, like Richard Henry Lee, and many another of his companions in the old struggle against the Constitution, drawn more and more into support of the new government.

In this frame of mind, probably, was he in the spring of 1793, when, during the session of the federal court at Richmond, he had frequent conversations with Chief Justice Jay and with Judge Iredell. The latter, having never before met Henry, had felt great dislike of him on account of the alleged violence of his opinions against the Constitution; but after making his acquaintance, Iredell thus wrote concerning him: "I never was more agreeably disappointed than in my acquaintance with him. I have been much in his company; and his manners are very pleasing, and his mind, I am persuaded, highly liberal. It is a strong additional reason I have, added to many others, to hold in high detestation violent party prejudice."[456]

In the following year, General Henry Lee, then governor of Virginia, appointed Patrick Henry as a senator of the United States, to fill out an unexpired term. This honor he felt compelled to decline.

In the course of the same year, General Lee, finding that Patrick Henry, though in virtual sympathy with the administration, was yet under the impression that Washington had cast off their old friendship, determined to act the part of a peacemaker between them, and, if possible, bring together once more two old friends who had been parted by political differences that no longer existed. On the 17th of August, 1794, Lee, at Richmond, thus wrote to the President:—

"When I saw you in Philadelphia, I had many conversations with you respecting Mr. Henry, and since my return I have talked very freely and confidentially with that gentleman. I plainly perceive that he has credited some information, which he has received (from whom I know not), which induces him to believe that you consider him a factious, seditious character.... Assured in my own mind that his opinions are groundless, I have uniformly combated them, and lament that my endeavors have been unavailing. He seems to be deeply and sorely affected. It is very much to be regretted; for he is a man of positive virtue as well as of transcendent talents; and were it not for his feelings above expressed, I verily believe, he would be found among the most active supporters of your administration. Excuse me for mentioning this matter to you. I have long wished to do it, in the hope that it would lead to a refutation of the sentiments entertained by Mr. Henry."[457]

To this letter Washington sent a reply which expressed unabated regard for his old friend; and this reply, having been shown by Lee to Henry, drew from him this noble-minded answer:—

TO GENERAL HENRY LEE.

RED HILL, 27 June, 1795.

MY DEAR SIR,—Your very friendly communication of so much of the President's letter as relates to me, demands my sincere thanks. Retired as I am from the busy world, it is still grateful to me to know that some portion of regard remains for me amongst my countrymen; especially those of them whose opinions I most value. But the esteem of that personage, who is contemplated in this correspondence, is highly flattering indeed.

The American Revolution was the grand operation, which seemed to be assigned by the Deity to the men of this age in our country, over and above the common duties of life. I ever prized at a high rate the superior privilege of being one in that chosen age, to which Providence intrusted its favorite work. With this impression, it was impossible for me to resist the impulse I felt to contribute my mite towards accomplishing that event, which in future will give a superior aspect to the men of these times. To the man, especially, who led our armies, will that aspect belong; and it is not in nature for one with my feelings to revere the Revolution, without including him who stood foremost in its establishment.

Every insinuation that taught me to believe I had forfeited the good-will of that personage, to whom the world had agreed to ascribe the appellation of good and great, must needs give me pain; particularly as he had opportunities of knowing my character both in public and in private life. The intimation now given me, that there was no ground to believe I had incurred his censure, gives very great pleasure.

Since the adoption of the present Constitution, I have generally moved in a narrow circle. But in that I have never omitted to inculcate a strict adherence to the principles of it. And I have the satisfaction to think, that in no part of the Union have the laws been more pointedly obeyed, than in that where I have resided and spent my time. Projects, indeed, of a contrary tendency have been hinted to me; but the treatment of the projectors has been such as to prevent all intercourse with them for a long time. Although a democrat myself, I like not the late democratic societies. As little do I like their suppression by law. Silly things may amuse for awhile, but in a little time men will perceive their delusions. The way to preserve in men's minds a value for them, is to enact laws against them.

My present views are to spend my days in privacy. If, however, it shall please God, during my life, so to order the course of events as to render my feeble efforts necessary for the safety of the country, in any, even the smallest degree, that little which I can do shall be done. Whenever you may have an opportunity, I shall be much obliged by your presenting my best respects and duty to the President, assuring him of my gratitude for his favorable sentiments towards me.

Be assured, my dear sir, of the esteem and regard with which I am yours, etc.,

PATRICK HENRY.[458]

After seeing this letter, Washington took an opportunity to convey to Patrick Henry a strong practical proof of his confidence in him, and of his cordial friendship. The office of secretary of state having become vacant, Washington thus tendered the place to Patrick Henry:—

MOUNT VERNON, 9 October, 1795.

DEAR SIR,—Whatever may be the reception of this letter, truth and candor shall mark its steps. You doubtless know that the office of state is vacant; and no one can be more sensible than yourself of the importance of filling it with a person of abilities, and one in whom the public would have confidence.

It would be uncandid not to inform you that this office has been offered to others; but it is as true, that it was from a conviction in my own mind that you would not accept it (until Tuesday last, in a conversation with General Lee, he dropped sentiments which made it less doubtful), that it was not offered first to you.

I need scarcely add, that if this appointment could be made to comport with your own inclination, it would be as pleasing to me, as I believe it would be acceptable to the public. With this assurance, and with this belief, I make you the offer of it. My first wish is that you would accept it; the next is that you would be so good as to give me an answer as soon as you conveniently can, as the public business in that department is now suffering for want of a secretary.[459]

Though Patrick Henry declined this proposal, he declined it for reasons that did not shut the door against further overtures of a similar kind; for, within the next three months, a vacancy having occurred in another great office,—that of chief justice of the United States,—Washington again employed the friendly services of General Lee, whom he authorized to offer the place to Patrick Henry. This was done by Lee in a letter dated December 26, 1795:—

"The Senate have disagreed to the President's nomination of Mr. Rutledge, and a vacancy in that important office has taken place. For your country's sake, for your friends' sake, for your family's sake, tell me you will obey a call to it. You know my friendship for you; you know my circumspection; and, I trust, you know, too, I would not address you on such a subject without good grounds. Surely no situation better suits you. You continue at home, only [except] when on duty. Change of air and exercise will add to your days. The salary excellent, and the honor very great. Be explicit in your reply."[460]

On the same day on which Lee thus wrote to Henry he likewise wrote to Washington, informing him that he had done so; but, for some cause now unknown, Washington received no further word from Lee for more than two weeks. Accordingly, on the 11th of January, 1796, in his anxiety to know what might be Patrick Henry's decision concerning the office of chief justice, Washington wrote to Lee as follows:—

MY DEAR SIR,—Your letter of the 26th ult. has been received, but nothing from you since,—which is embarrassing in the extreme; for not only the nomination of chief justice, but an associate judge, and secretary of war, is suspended on the answer you were to receive from Mr. Henry; and what renders the want of it more to be regretted is, that the first Monday of next month (which happens on the first day of it) is the term appointed by law for the meeting of the Superior Court of the United States, in this city; at which, for particular reasons, the bench ought to be full. I will add no more at present than that I am your affectionate,

GEO. WASHINGTON.[461]

Although Patrick Henry declined this great compliment also, his friendliness to the administration had become so well understood that, among the Federal leaders, who in the spring of 1796 were planning for the succession to Washington and Adams, there was a strong inclination to nominate Patrick Henry for the vice-presidency,—their chief doubt being with reference to his willingness to take the nomination.[462]

All these overtures to Patrick Henry were somewhat jealously watched by Jefferson, who, indeed, in a letter to Monroe, on the 10th of July, 1796, interpreted them with that easy recklessness of statement which so frequently embellished his private correspondence and his private talk. "Most assiduous court," he says of the Federalists, "is paid to Patrick Henry. He has been offered everything which they knew he would not accept."[463]

A few weeks after Jefferson penned those sneering words, the person thus alluded to wrote to his daughter, Mrs. Aylett, concerning certain troublesome reports which had reached her:—

"As to the reports you have heard, of my changing sides in politics, I can only say they are not true. I am too old to exchange my former opinions, which have grown up into fixed habits of thinking. True it is, I have condemned the conduct of our members in Congress, because, in refusing to raise money for the purposes of the British treaty, they, in effect, would have surrendered our country bound, hand and foot, to the power of the British nation.... The treaty is, in my opinion, a very bad one indeed. But what must I think of those men, whom I myself warned of the danger of giving the power of making laws by means of treaty to the President and Senate, when I see these same men denying the existence of that power, which, they insisted in our convention, ought properly to be exercised by the President and Senate, and by none other? The policy of these men, both then and now, appears to me quite void of wisdom and foresight. These sentiments I did mention in conversation in Richmond, and perhaps others which I don't remember.... It seems that every word was watched which I casually dropped, and wrested to answer party views. Who can have been so meanly employed, I know not, neither do I care; for I no longer consider myself as an actor on the stage of public life. It is time for me to retire; and I shall never more appear in a public character, unless some unlooked-for circumstance shall demand from me a transient effort, not inconsistent with private life—in which I have determined to continue."[464]

In the autumn of 1796 the Assembly of Virginia, then under the political control of Jefferson, and apparently eager to compete with the Federalists for the possession of a great name, elected Patrick Henry to the governorship of the State. But the man whose purpose to refuse office had been proof against the attractions of the United States Senate, and of the highest place in Washington's cabinet, and of the highest judicial position in the country, was not likely to succumb to the opportunity of being governor of Virginia for the sixth time.

FOOTNOTES:

[434] Spencer Roane, MS.

[435] Hist. Mag. for 1867, 93; 369-370.

[436] Howe, Hist. Coll. Va. 221.

[437] Spencer Roane, MS.

[438] Cited in Wirt, 380-381.

[439] Spencer Roane, MS.

[440] Fontaine, MS.

[441] Fontaine, MS.

[442] Fontaine, MS.

[443] Bancroft, ed. 1869, vi. 416-417.

[444] Elliot, Debates, iii. 455-456; 590-591.

[445] Spencer Roane, MS.

[446] Fontaine, MS.

[447] J. W. Alexander, Life of A. Alexander, 193; Howe, Hist. Coll. Va. 221.

[448] Wirt, 402.

[449] Fontaine, MS.

[450] Meade, Old Churches, etc. ii. 12.

[451] Wirt, 387.

[452] Fontaine, MS.

[453] Fontaine, MS. Also Meade, Old Churches, etc. ii. 12; and Wm. Wirt Henry, MS.

[454] MS. Certified copy.

[455] For example, D. Stuart's letter, in Writings of Washington, x. 94-96; also, Jour. Va. House Del. for Nov. 3, 1790.

[456] McRee, Life of Iredell, ii. 394-395.

[457] Writings of Washington, x. 560-561.

[458] Writings of Washington, x. 562-563.

[459] Writings of Washington, xi. 81-82.

[460] MS.

[461] Lee, Observations, etc. 116.

[462] Gibbs, Administration of Washington, etc. i. 337; see, also, Hamilton, Works, vi. 114.

[463] Jefferson, Writings, iv. 148.

[464] Entire letter in Wirt, 385-387.



CHAPTER XXII

LAST DAYS

The intimation given by Patrick Henry to his daughter, in the summer of 1796, that, though he could never again engage in a public career, he yet might be compelled by "some unlooked-for circumstance" to make "a transient effort" for the public safety, was not put to the test until nearly three years afterward, when it was verified in the midst of those days in which he was suddenly to find surcease of all earthly care and pain.

Our story, therefore, now passes hurriedly by the year 1797,—which saw the entrance of John Adams into the presidency, the return of Monroe from France in great anger at the men who had recalled him, the publication of Jefferson's letter to Mazzei, everywhere an increasing bitterness and even violence in partisan feeling. In the same manner, also, must we pass by the year 1798,—which saw the popular uprising against France, the mounting of the black cockade against her, the suspension of commercial intercourse with her, the summons to Washington to come forth once more and lead the armies of America against the enemy; then the moonstruck madness of the Federalists, forcing upon the country the naturalization act, the alien acts, the sedition act; then the Kentucky resolutions, as written by Jefferson, declaring the acts just named to be "not law, but utterly void and of no force," and liable, "unless arrested on the threshold," "to drive these States into revolution and blood;" then the Virginia resolutions, as written by Madison, denouncing the same acts as "palpable and alarming infractions of the Constitution;" finally, the preparations secretly making by the government of Virginia[465] for armed resistance to the government of the United States.

Just seven days after the passage of the Virginia resolutions, an eminent citizen of that State appealed by letter to Patrick Henry for some written expression of his views upon the troubled situation, with the immediate object of aiding in the election of John Marshall, who, having just before returned from his baffled embassy to Paris, was then in nomination for Congress, and was encountering assaults directed by every energy and art of the opposition. In response to this appeal, Patrick Henry wrote, in the early part of the year 1799, the following remarkable letter, which is of deep interest still, not only as showing his discernment of the true nature of that crisis, but as furnishing a complete answer to the taunt that his mental faculties were then fallen into decay:—

TO ARCHIBALD BLAIR.

RED HILL, CHARLOTTE, 8 January, 1799.

DEAR SIR,—Your favor of the 28th of last month I have received. Its contents are a fresh proof that there is cause for much lamentation over the present state of things in Virginia. It is possible that most of the individuals who compose the contending factions are sincere, and act from honest motives. But it is more than probable, that certain leaders meditate a change in government. To effect this, I see no way so practicable as dissolving the confederacy. And I am free to own, that, in my judgment, most of the measures lately pursued by the opposition party, directly and certainly lead to that end. If this is not the system of the party, they have none, and act 'ex tempore.'

I do acknowledge that I am not capable to form a correct judgment on the present politics of the world. The wide extent to which the present contentions have gone will scarcely permit any observer to see enough in detail to enable him to form anything like a tolerable judgment on the final result, as it may respect the nations in general. But, as to France, I have no doubt in saying that to her it will be calamitous. Her conduct has made it the interest of the great family of mankind to wish the downfall of her present government; because its existence is incompatible with that of all others within its reach. And, whilst I see the dangers that threaten ours from her intrigues and her arms, I am not so much alarmed as at the apprehension of her destroying the great pillars of all government and of social life,—I mean virtue, morality, and religion. This is the armor, my friend, and this alone, that renders us invincible. These are the tactics we should study. If we lose these, we are conquered, fallen indeed. In vain may France show and vaunt her diplomatic skill, and brave troops: so long as our manners and principles remain sound, there is no danger. But believing, as I do, that these are in danger, that infidelity in its broadest sense, under the name of philosophy, is fast spreading, and that, under the patronage of French manners and principles, everything that ought to be dear to man is covertly but successfully assailed, I feel the value of those men amongst us, who hold out to the world the idea, that our continent is to exhibit an originality of character; and that, instead of that imitation and inferiority which the countries of the old world have been in the habit of exacting from the new, we shall maintain that high ground upon which nature has placed us, and that Europe will alike cease to rule us and give us modes of thinking.

But I must stop short, or else this letter will be all preface. These prefatory remarks, however, I thought proper to make, as they point out the kind of character amongst our countrymen most estimable in my eyes. General Marshall and his colleagues exhibited the American character as respectable. France, in the period of her most triumphant fortune, beheld them as unappalled. Her threats left them, as she found them, mild, temperate, firm. Can it be thought that, with these sentiments, I should utter anything tending to prejudice General Marshall's election? Very far from it indeed. Independently of the high gratification I felt from his public ministry, he ever stood high in my esteem as a private citizen. His temper and disposition were always pleasant, his talents and integrity unquestioned. These things are sufficient to place that gentleman far above any competitor in the district for Congress. But, when you add the particular information and insight which he has gained, and is able to communicate to our public councils, it is really astonishing that even blindness itself should hesitate in the choice.... Tell Marshall I love him, because he felt and acted as a republican, as an American.... I am too old and infirm ever again to undertake public concerns. I live much retired, amidst a multiplicity of blessings from that Gracious Ruler of all things, to whom I owe unceasing acknowledgments for his unmerited goodness to me; and if I was permitted to add to the catalogue one other blessing, it should be, that my countrymen should learn wisdom and virtue, and in this their day to know the things that pertain to their peace. Farewell.

I am, dear Sir, yours, PATRICK HENRY.[466]

The appeal from Archibald Blair, which evoked this impressive letter, had suggested to the old statesman no effort which could not be made in his retirement. Before, however, he was to pass beyond the reach of all human appeals, two others were to be addressed to him, the one by John Adams, the other by Washington, both asking him to come forth into the world again; the former calling for his help in averting war with France, the latter for his help in averting the triumph of violent and dangerous counsels at home.

On the 25th of February, 1799, John Adams, shaking himself free of his partisan counsellors,—all hot for war with France,—suddenly changed the course of history by sending to the Senate the names of these three citizens, Oliver Ellsworth, Patrick Henry, and William Vans Murray, "to be envoys extraordinary and ministers plenipotentiary to the French republic, with full powers to discuss and settle, by a treaty, all controversies between the United States and France." In his letter of the 16th of April declining the appointment, Patrick Henry spoke of himself as having been "confined for several weeks by a severe indisposition," and as being "still so sick as to be scarcely able to write this." "My advanced age," he added, "and increasing debility compel me to abandon every idea of serving my country, where the scene of operation is far distant, and her interests call for incessant and long continued exertion.... I cannot, however, forbear expressing, on this occasion, the high sense I entertain of the honor done me by the President and Senate in the appointment. And I beg you, sir, to present me to them in terms of the most dutiful regard, assuring them that this mark of their confidence in me, at a crisis so eventful, is an agreeable and flattering proof of their consideration towards me, and that nothing short of an absolute necessity could induce me to withhold my little aid from an administration whose ability, patriotism, and virtue deserve the gratitude and reverence of all their fellow citizens."[467]

Such was John Adams's appeal to Patrick Henry and its result. The appeal to him from Washington—an appeal which he could not resist, and which induced him, even in his extreme feebleness of body, to make one last and noble exertion of his genius—happened in this wise. On the 15th of January, 1799, from Mount Vernon, Washington wrote to his friend a long letter, marked "confidential," in which he stated with great frankness his own anxieties respecting the dangers then threatening the country:—

"It would be a waste of time to attempt to bring to the view of a person of your observation and discernment, the endeavors of a certain party among us to disquiet the public mind with unfounded alarms; to arraign every act of the administration; to set the people at variance with their government; and to embarrass all its measures. Equally useless would it be to predict what must be the inevitable consequences of such a policy, if it cannot be arrested.

"Unfortunately,—and extremely do I regret it,—the State of Virginia has taken the lead in this opposition.... It has been said that the great mass of the citizens of this State are well-affected, notwithstanding, to the general government and the Union; and I am willing to believe it, nay, do believe it. But how is this to be reconciled with their suffrages at the elections of representatives, ... who are men opposed to the former, and by the tendency of their measures would destroy the latter?... One of the reasons assigned is, that the most respectable and best qualified characters among us will not come forward.... But, at such a crisis as this, when everything dear and valuable to us is assailed; when this party hangs upon the wheels of government as a dead weight, opposing every measure that is calculated for defence and self-preservation, abetting the nefarious views of another nation upon our rights; ... when measures are systematically and pertinaciously pursued, which must eventually dissolve the Union, or produce coercion; I say, when these things have become so obvious, ought characters who are best able to rescue their country from the pending evil, to remain at home? Rather ought they not to come forward, and by their talents and influence stand in the breach which such conduct has made on the peace and happiness of this country, and oppose the widening of it?...

"I come, now, my good Sir, to the object of my letter, which is to express a hope and an earnest wish, that you will come forward at the ensuing elections (if not for Congress, which you may think would take you too long from home), as a candidate for representative in the General Assembly of this Commonwealth.

"There are, I have no doubt, very many sensible men who oppose themselves to the torrent that carries away others who had rather swim with, than stem it without an able pilot to conduct them; but these are neither old in legislation, nor well known in the community. Your weight of character and influence in the House of Representatives would be a bulwark against such dangerous sentiments as are delivered there at present. It would be a rallying point for the timid, and an attraction of the wavering. In a word, I conceive it to be of immense importance at this crisis, that you should be there; and I would fain hope that all minor considerations will be made to yield to the measure."[468]

There can be little doubt that it was this solemn invocation on the part of Washington which induced the old statesman, on whom Death had already begun to lay his icy hands, to come forth from the solitude in which he had been so long buried, and offer himself for the suffrages of his neighbors, as their representative in the next House of Delegates, there to give check, if possible, to the men who seemed to be hurrying Virginia upon violent courses, and the republic into civil war. Accordingly, before the day for the usual March[469] court in Charlotte, the word went out through all that country that old Patrick Henry, whose wondrous voice in public no man had heard for those many years, who had indeed been almost numbered among the dead ones of their heroic days foregone, was to appear before all the people once more, and speak to them as in the former time, and give to them his counsel amid those thickening dangers which alone could have drawn him forth from the very borders of the grave.

When the morning of that day came, from all the region thereabout the people began to stream toward the place where the orator was to speak. So widespread was the desire to hear him that even the college in the next county—the college of Hampden-Sidney—suspended its work for that day, and thus enabled all its members, the president himself, the professors, and the students, to hurry over to Charlotte court-house. One of those students, John Miller, of South Carolina, according to an account said to have been given by him in conversation forty years afterward, having with his companions reached the town,—

"and having learned that the great orator would speak in the porch of a tavern fronting the large court-green, ... pushed his way through the gathering crowd, and secured the pedestal of a pillar, where he stood within eight feet of him. He was very infirm, and seated in a chair conversing with some old friends, waiting for the assembling of the immense multitudes who were pouring in from all the surrounding country to hear him. At length he arose with difficulty, and stood somewhat bowed with age and weakness. His face was almost colorless. His countenance was careworn; and when he commenced his exordium, his voice was slightly cracked and tremulous. But in a few moments a wonderful transformation of the whole man occurred, as he warmed with his theme. He stood erect; his eye beamed with a light that was almost supernatural; his features glowed with the hue and fire of youth; and his voice rang clear and melodious with the intonations of some grand musical instrument whose notes filled the area, and fell distinctly and delightfully upon the ears of the most distant of the thousands gathered before him."[470]

As regards the substance of the speech then made, it will not be safe for us to confide very much in the supposed recollections of old men who heard it when they were young. Upon the whole, probably, the most trustworthy outline of it now to be had is that of a gentleman who declares that he wrote down his recollections of the speech not long after its delivery. According to this account, Patrick Henry—

"told them that the late proceedings of the Virginian Assembly had filled him with apprehensions and alarm; that they had planted thorns upon his pillow; that they had drawn him from that happy retirement which it had pleased a bountiful Providence to bestow, and in which he had hoped to pass, in quiet, the remainder of his days; that the State had quitted the sphere in which she had been placed by the Constitution, and, in daring to pronounce upon the validity of federal laws, had gone out of her jurisdiction in a manner not warranted by any authority, and in the highest degree alarming to every considerate man; that such opposition, on the part of Virginia, to the acts of the general government, must beget their enforcement by military power; that this would probably produce civil war, civil war foreign alliances, and that foreign alliances must necessarily end in subjugation to the powers called in. He conjured the people to pause and consider well, before they rushed into such a desperate condition, from which there could be no retreat. He painted to their imaginations Washington, at the head of a numerous and well-appointed army, inflicting upon them military execution. 'And where,' he asked, 'are our resources to meet such a conflict? Where is the citizen of America who will dare to lift his hand against the father of his country?' A drunken man in the crowd threw up his arm, and exclaimed that he dared to do it. 'No,' answered Mr. Henry, rising aloft in all his majesty, 'you dare not do it: in such a parricidal attempt, the steel would drop from your nerveless arm!' ... Mr. Henry, proceeding in his address to the people, asked whether the county of Charlotte would have any authority to dispute an obedience to the laws of Virginia; and he pronounced Virginia to be to the Union what the county of Charlotte was to her. Having denied the right of a State to decide upon the constitutionality of federal laws, he added, that perhaps it might be necessary to say something of the merits of the laws in question.[471] His private opinion was that they were good and proper. But whatever might be their merits, it belonged to the people, who held the reins over the head of Congress, and to them alone, to say whether they were acceptable or otherwise to Virginians; and that this must be done by way of petition; that Congress were as much our representatives as the Assembly, and had as good a right to our confidence. He had seen with regret the unlimited power over the purse and sword consigned to the general government; but ... he had been overruled, and it was now necessary to submit to the constitutional exercise of that power. 'If,' said he, 'I am asked what is to be done, when a people feel themselves intolerably oppressed, my answer is ready,—Overturn the government. But do not, I beseech you, carry matters to this length without provocation. Wait at least until some infringement is made upon your rights, and which cannot otherwise be redressed; for if ever you recur to another change, you may bid adieu forever to representative government. You can never exchange the present government but for a monarchy.... Let us preserve our strength for the French, the English, the Germans, or whoever else shall dare to invade our territory, and not exhaust it in civil commotions and intestine wars.' He concluded by declaring his design to exert himself in the endeavor to allay the heart-burnings and jealousies which had been fomented in the state legislature; and he fervently prayed, if he was deemed unworthy to effect it, that it might be reserved to some other and abler hand to extend this blessing over the community."[472]

The outline thus given may be inaccurate in several particulars: it is known to be so in one. Respecting the alien and sedition acts, the orator expressed no opinion at all;[473] but accepting them as the law of the land, he counselled moderation, forbearance, and the use of constitutional means of redress. Than that whole effort, as has been said by a recent and a sagacious historian, "nothing in his life was nobler."[474]

Upon the conclusion of the old man's speech the stand was taken by a very young man, John Randolph of Roanoke, who undertook to address the crowd, offering himself to them as a candidate for Congress, but on behalf of the party then opposed to Patrick Henry. By reason of weariness, no doubt, the latter did not remain upon the platform; but having "requested a friend to report to him anything which might require an answer," he stepped back into the tavern. "Randolph began by saying that he had admired that man more than any on whom the sun had shone, but that now he was constrained to differ from him 'toto coelo.'" Whatever else Randolph may have said in his speech, whether important or otherwise, was spoken under the disadvantage of a cold and a hoarseness so severe as to render him scarcely able to "utter an audible sentence." Furthermore, Patrick Henry "made no reply, nor did he again present himself to the people."[475] There is, however, a tradition, not improbable, that when Randolph had finished his speech, and had come back into the room where the aged statesman was resting, the latter, taking him gently by the hand, said to him, with great kindness: "Young man, you call me father. Then, my son, I have something to say unto thee: keep justice, keep truth,—and you will live to think differently."

As a result of the poll, Patrick Henry was, by a great majority, elected to the House of Delegates. But his political enemies, who, for sufficient reasons, greatly dreaded his appearance upon that scene of his ancient domination, were never any more to be embarrassed by his presence there. For, truly, they who, on that March day, at Charlotte court-house, had heard Patrick Henry, "had heard an immortal orator who would never speak again."[476] He seems to have gone thence to his home, and never to have left it. About the middle of the next month, being too sick to write many words, he lifted himself up in bed long enough to tell the secretary of state that he could not go on the mission to France, and to send his dying blessing to his old friend, the President. Early in June, his eldest daughter, Martha Fontaine, living at a distance of two days' travel from Red Hill, received from him a letter beginning with these words: "Dear Patsy, I am very unwell, and have Dr. Cabell with me."[477] Upon this alarming news, she and others of his kindred in that neighborhood made all haste to go to him. On arriving at Red Hill "they found him sitting in a large, old-fashioned armchair, in which he was easier than upon a bed." The disease of which he was dying was intussusception. On the 6th of June, all other remedies having failed, Dr. Cabell proceeded to administer to him a dose of liquid mercury. Taking the vial in his hand, and looking at it for a moment, the dying man said: "I suppose, doctor, this is your last resort?" The doctor replied: "I am sorry to say, governor, that it is. Acute inflammation of the intestine has already taken place; and unless it is removed, mortification will ensue, if it has not already commenced, which I fear." "What will be the effect of this medicine?" said the old man. "It will give you immediate relief, or"—the kind-hearted doctor could not finish the sentence. His patient took up the word: "You mean, doctor, that it will give relief, or will prove fatal immediately?" The doctor answered: "You can only live a very short time without it, and it may possibly relieve you." Then Patrick Henry said, "Excuse me, doctor, for a few minutes;" and drawing down over his eyes a silken cap which he usually wore, and still holding the vial in his hand, he prayed, in clear words, a simple childlike prayer, for his family, for his country, and for his own soul then in the presence of death. Afterward, in perfect calmness, he swallowed the medicine. Meanwhile, Dr. Cabell, who greatly loved him, went out upon the lawn, and in his grief threw himself down upon the earth under one of the trees, weeping bitterly. Soon, when he had sufficiently mastered himself, the doctor came back to his patient, whom he found calmly watching the congealing of the blood under his finger-nails, and speaking words of love and peace to his family, who were weeping around his chair. Among other things, he told them that he was thankful for that goodness of God, which, having blessed him through all his life, was then permitting him to die without any pain. Finally, fixing his eyes with much tenderness on his dear friend, Dr. Cabell, with whom he had formerly held many arguments respecting the Christian religion, he asked the doctor to observe how great a reality and benefit that religion was to a man about to die. And after Patrick Henry had spoken to his beloved physician these few words in praise of something which, having never failed him in all his life before, did not then fail him in his very last need of it, he continued to breathe very softly for some moments; after which they who were looking upon him saw that his life had departed.

FOOTNOTES:

[465] Henry Adams, Life of J. Randolph, 27-28.

[466] Writings of Washington, xi. 557-559.

[467] Works of John Adams, ix. 162; viii. 641-642.

[468] Writings of Washington, xi. 387-391.

[469] Garland, Life of John Randolph, 130.

[470] Fontaine, MS.

[471] The alien and sedition acts.

[472] Wirt, 393-395.

[473] Hist. Mag. for 1873, 353.

[474] Henry Adams, John Randolph, 29.

[475] J. W. Alexander, Life of A. Alexander, 188-189. About this whole scene have gathered many myths, of which several first appeared in a Life of Henry, in the New Edinb. Encycl. 1817; were thence copied into Howe, Hist. Coll. Va. 224-225; and have thence been engulfed in that rich mass of unwhipped hyperboles and of unexploded fables still patriotically swallowed by the American public as American history.

[476] Henry Adams.

[477] Fontaine, MS.



LIST OF PRINTED DOCUMENTS

CITED IN THIS BOOK, WITH TITLES, PLACES, AND DATES OF THE EDITIONS USED.

ADAMS, CHARLES FRANCIS. (See John Adams.)

ADAMS, HENRY, The Life of Albert Gallatin. Philadelphia: 1880.

ADAMS, HENRY, John Randolph. Am. Statesmen Series. Boston: 1882.

ADAMS, JOHN. (See Novanglus, etc.)

ADAMS, JOHN, Letters of, Addressed to his Wife. Ed. by Charles Francis Adams. 2 vols. Boston: 1841.

ADAMS, JOHN, The Works of. Ed. by Charles Francis Adams. 10 vols. Boston: 1856.

ADAMS, SAMUEL, Life of. (See Wm. V. Wells.)

ALEXANDER, JAMES W., The Life of Archibald Alexander. New York: 1854.

American Archives. (Peter Force.) 9 vols. Washington: 1837-1853.

The American Quarterly Review. Vol. i. Philadelphia: 1827.

BANCROFT, GEORGE, History of the United States. 10 vols. Boston: 1870-1874.

BANCROFT, GEORGE, History of the United States. The Author's Last Revision. 6 vols. New York: 1883-1885.

BANCROFT, GEORGE, History of the Formation of the Constitution of the United States of America. 2 vols. New York: 1882.

BLAND, RICHARD, A Letter to the Clergy of Virginia, n. p. 1760.

BROUGHAM, HENRY, LORD, The Life and Times of, Written by himself. 3 vols. New York: 1871.

BURK, JOHN (DALY), The History of Virginia. 4 vols. Petersburg: 1804-1816. Last volume by Skelton Jones and Louis Hue Girardin.

BYRD, WILLIAM, Byrd Manuscripts. 2 vols. Richmond: 1866.

Calendar of Virginia State Papers. Vol. ii. Richmond: 1881.

CAMPBELL, CHARLES, The Bland Papers: Being a Selection from the Manuscripts of Colonel Theodorick Bland, Jr. 2 vols. Petersburg: 1840.

CAMPBELL, CHARLES, History of the Colony and Ancient Dominion of Virginia. Philadelphia: 1860.

Collections of the Connecticut Historical Society. Vol. ii. Hartford: 1870.

Colonel George Rogers Clark's Sketch of his Campaign in the Illinois in 1778-79. Cincinnati: 1869.

COOKE, JOHN ESTEN, Virginia: A History of the People. (Commonwealth Series.) Boston: 1884.

COOLEY, THOMAS M. (See Joseph Story.)

Correspondence of the American Revolution. Edited by Jared Sparks. 4 vols. Boston: 1853.

CURTIS, B. R., Reports of Decisions in the Supreme Court of the United States. Boston: 1855.

CURTIS, GEORGE TICKNOR, History of the Origin, Formation, and Adoption of the Constitution of the United States. 2 vols. London and New York: 1854, 1858.

CURTIS, GEORGE TICKNOR, Life of Daniel Webster. New York: 1872.

DE COSTA, B. F. (See William White.)

DICKINSON, JOHN, The Political Writings of. 2 vols. Wilmington: 1801.

ELLIOT, JONATHAN, The Debates in the Several State Conventions, on the adoption of the Federal Constitution, etc. 5 vols. Philadelphia: 1876.

EVERETT, ALEXANDER H., Life of Patrick Henry. In Sparks's Library of Am. Biography. 2d series, vol. i. Boston: 1844.

FROTHINGHAM, RICHARD, The Rise of the Republic of the United States. Boston: 1872.

GALES, JOSEPH, The Debates and Proceedings in the Congress of the United States. 2 vols. Washington: 1834.

GALLATIN, ALBERT. (See Henry Adams.)

GARLAND, HUGH A., The Life of John Randolph of Roanoke. 2 vols. New York: 1860.

GIBBS, GEORGE, Memoirs of the Administrations of Washington and John Adams, edited from the Papers of Oliver Wolcott. New York: 1846.

GIRARDIN, LOUIS HUE. (See John Burk.)

GORDON, WILLIAM, History of the Rise, Progress, and Establishment of the Independence of the United States of America; including an account of the Late War, and of the Thirteen Colonies from their origin to that period. 3 vols. New York: 1789.

GRIGSBY, HUGH BLAIR, The Virginia Convention of 1776. Richmond: 1855.

HAMILTON, ALEXANDER, Works of. Edited by John C. Hamilton. 7 vols. New York: 1850-1851.

HANSARD, T. C., The Parliamentary History of England. Vol. xviii. London: 1813.

HAWKS, FRANCIS L., Contributions to the Ecclesiastical History of the United States of America. Vol. i. New York: 1836.

HENING, WILLIAM WALLER, The Statutes at Large: Being a Collection of all the Laws of Virginia. 13 vols. Richmond, New York, and Philadelphia: 1819-1823.

HENRY, PATRICK, Life of. (See Wirt, William, and Everett, Alexander H.)

HENRY, WILLIAM WIRT, Character and Public Career of Patrick Henry. Pamphlet. Charlotte Court-house, Va.: 1867.

HENRY, WILLIAM WIRT, Patrick Henry: Life, Correspondence, and Speeches. 3 vols. New York: 1891.

HERRING, JAMES. (See National Portrait Gallery.)

HILDRETH, RICHARD, The History of the United States of America. 6 vols. New York: 1871-1874.

The Historical Magazine, and Notes and Queries Concerning the Antiquities, History, and Biography of America. (Henry B. Dawson.) Vol. ii. 2d series, and vol. ii. 3d series. Morrisania: 1867 and 1873.

HOWE, HENRY, Historical Collections of Virginia. Charleston: 1845.

HOWISON, ROBERT R., A History of Virginia. Vol. i. Philadelphia: 1846. Vol. ii. Richmond, New York, and London: 1848.

IREDELL, JAMES, Life of. (See McRee, G. J.)

JAY, WILLIAM, The Life of John Jay. 2 vols. New York: 1833.

JEFFERSON, THOMAS, Notes on the State of Virginia. Philadelphia: 1825.

JEFFERSON, THOMAS, The Writings of. Ed. by H. A. Washington. 9 vols. New York: 1853-1854.

JEFFERSON, THOMAS, Life of. (See H. S. Randall.)

JONES, SKELTON. (See John Burk.)

Journal of the House of Delegates of the Commonwealth of Virginia. (From 1777 to 1790.) 3 vols. Richmond: 1827-1828.

KENNEDY, JOHN P., Memoirs of the Life of William Wirt. 2 vols. Philadelphia: 1850.

LAMB, GENERAL JOHN, Memoir of. (See Leake, Isaac Q.)

LAMB, MARTHA J. (See Magazine of American History.)

LEAKE, ISAAC Q., Memoir of the Life and Times of General John Lamb. Albany: 1850.

LEE, CHARLES CARTER. (See Lee, Henry, Observations, etc.)

LEE, HENRY, Observations on the Writings of Thomas Jefferson, with Particular Reference to the Attack they contain on the Memory of the late Gen. Henry Lee. In a series of Letters. Second ed., with an Introduction and Notes by Charles Carter Lee. Philadelphia: 1839.

LEE, RICHARD HENRY. (See Richard Henry Lee, 2d.)

LEE, RICHARD HENRY, 2d, Memoir of the Life of Richard Henry Lee. 2 vols. Philadelphia: 1825.

LEE, RICHARD HENRY, 2d, Life of Arthur Lee, LL. D. 2 vols. Boston: 1829.

LEONARD, DANIEL. (See Novanglus, etc.)

LONGACRE, JAMES B. (See National Portrait Gallery.)

MACKAY, CHARLES, The Founders of the American Republic. Edinburgh and London: 1885.

MACMASTER, JOHN BACH, History of the People of the United States. 2 vols. New York: 1883-1885.

MCREE, GRIFFITH J., Life and Correspondence of James Iredell. 2 vols. New York: 1857-1858.

MADISON, JAMES, The Papers of. 3 vols. Washington: 1840.

MADISON, JAMES, Letters and Other Writings of. 4 vols. Philadelphia: 1867.

MADISON, JAMES, Life and Times of. (See William C. Rives.)

The Magazine of American History, with Notes and Queries. Ed. by Martha J. Lamb. Vol. xi. New York: 1884.

MAGRUDER, ALLAN B., John Marshall. (Am. Statesmen Series.) Boston: 1885.

MARSHALL, JOHN, The Life of George Washington. 5 vols. Philadelphia: 1804-1807.

MARSHALL, JOHN. (See Magruder, Allan B.)

MAURY, ANN, Memoirs of a Huguenot Family. New York: 1872.

MEADE, WILLIAM, Old Churches, Ministers, and Families of Virginia. 2 vols. Philadelphia: 1872.

The National Portrait Gallery of Distinguished Americans, Conducted by James B. Longacre and James Herring. 2d vol. Philadelphia, New York, and London: 1835.