Mr. Duché was an eminent Episcopal clergyman. He appeared in his Episcopal robes, and read the impressive morning service, the clerk making the responses. On the 6th of September, a rumor, which afterward proved to be incorrect, reached Congress that the British were cannonading Boston. It so chanced that the Psalter for that day included the following verses from the 35th Psalm:
“Plead my cause, O Lord, with them that strive with me. Fight against them that fight against me. Take hold of shield and buckler, and stand up for my help. Draw out also the spear, and stop the way of them that persecute me. Say unto my soul, I am thy salvation.”
John Adams gave a very vivid description of the scene, in a letter to his wife. He wrote: “You must remember this was the morning after we heard the horrible rumor of the cannonade of Boston. I never saw a greater effect upon an audience. It seemed as if heaven had ordained that psalm to be read, on that morning.
“After, this Mr. Duché unexpectedly struck out into an extempore prayer, which filled the bosom of every man present. Episcopalian as he is, Dr. Cooper himself never prayed with such fervor, such ardor, such earnestness and pathos, and in language so eloquent and sublime for America, for the Congress, for the province of Massachusetts Bay, and especially for the town of Boston.”
Most of the members of Congress stood during this prayer. But it was observed that Washington threw himself upon his knees; and undoubtedly his devout spirit joined fervently in each petition. As the result of this session of Congress, it was resolved to recommend to decline all commercial relations with Great Britain. An address was prepared, to the people of Canada, urging the inhabitants there to make common cause with their brethren of the more southern colonies. A respectful but firm remonstrance was addressed to King George III. and a statement of facts was presented to the people of Great Britain.[78]
The Congress remained in session fifty-one days. Patrick Henry, on his return home, was asked whom he considered the greatest man in Congress. He replied:
“If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutlidge, of South Carolina, is by far the greatest orator. But if you speak of solid information, and sound judgment, Colonel Washington is unquestionably the greatest man on that floor.”
Washington returned to Mount Vernon. Clouds of sorrow darkened his dwelling, Mrs. Washington was lonely and grief-stricken. Her beautiful, amiable, only daughter, was in the grave. Her only son was absent. Her noble husband had embarked in a cause which menaced him with the scaffold. Their much loved neighbor, George William Fairfax, whose friendship and intimacy had been one of their chief social joys, had left his estate at Belvoir, under the care of an overseer, and had returned to England, to enter upon the possession of large estates which had devolved upon him there. Washington, overwhelmed with immense national solicitudes, found his home enveloped in an atmosphere of loneliness and sadness. Such is human life. Such it has been from the days of the patriarchs:
“A path it is of joys and griefs, of many hopes and fears,
Gladdened at times by sunny smiles, but oftener dimmed by tears.”
In March, 1774, Washington attended another Virginia Convention, at Richmond. Not one word of conciliation came from the British cabinet; but only insults and defiance, accompanied by acts of increasing outrage.