"In executing a mission from the synod of Virginia, in the year 1794, I had to pa.s.s 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 s.p.a.cious, 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 a.s.sumed 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 a.s.sure 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 princ.i.p.al 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 b.u.t.terwood Harvey, as he lived on b.u.t.terwood Creek. Mr. Henry, it is believed, understanding that the people were on their guard against his faculty of moving the pa.s.sions 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 a.s.sistants. 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 b.u.t.terwood 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 b.u.t.terwood 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 circ.u.mstances 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 pa.s.sions 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 a.s.sisting. 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 p.r.o.nounced 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 ill.u.s.tration 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 c.o.c.k 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 a.s.sailant in necessary self-defence.

"A great ma.s.s 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 una.s.suming.

'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 a.s.sumed 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 c.o.c.ked 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 a.s.sembly 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 ill.u.s.trating 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 embarra.s.sments 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 pa.s.sion, nor apparently even out of temper. Circ.u.mstances 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 Const.i.tution 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 a.s.sistance of other more important men. They a.s.sailed 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 circ.u.mstances 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 subst.i.tute 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 a.s.sociated 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 pa.s.sed 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]