“‘Resolved, therefore, that the General Assembly of this colony have the sole right and power to lay taxes and impositions upon the inhabitants of this colony; and that every attempt to vest such power in any person or persons whatsoever, other than the General Assembly aforesaid, has a manifest tendency to destroy British as well as American freedom.’
“A warm debate ensued. Pendleton, Bland, Wythe and Randolph all opposed the resolutions; but Henry was the master mind, and made an impression which is felt to this day. His words were pregnant with a nation’s freedom. In the heat of the debate occurred a memorable scene. Patrick Henry reached a climax. ‘Cæsar,’ he cried, ‘had his Brutus; Charles the First, his Cromwell, and George the Third’—‘Treason’! burst from the lips of the president. ‘Treason,’ ‘Treason!’ resounded through the house. The orator paused; then, raising himself to his full height, with eyes of fire and a voice which thrilled every soul, he concluded his sentence, ‘and George the Third may profit by their example. If this be treason make the most of it.’
“The resolutions were adopted by one vote, and that evening Patrick Henry left for his home. In March, 1775, the Virginia Convention met in St. John’s church, Richmond. It was a body of the most distinguished men in Virginia, and among them was Patrick Henry. He was still far in advance of the leading men of the convention, who, although there were English fleets in the waters of Virginia and armed soldiers quartered within her towns, still hoped that the evils complained of could be remedied by compromise.
“Henry did not think so, and he was unwilling to sit down quietly until it would be too late to prepare for defense. He submitted a set of resolutions, calling attention to the presence of British armies and the dangers then threatening American freedom, and proposed that Virginia should be put in a state of defense, and that measures should at once be taken for embodying, arming and disciplining such a number of men as may be sufficient for that purpose.”
The proposition was strongly opposed by such men as Bland, Nicholas, Pendleton and Harrison. Dr. Howison says: “It was now that Patrick Henry appeared in power. Rising slowly from his seat, he made an appeal which in eloquence and strength, and in its effect upon the future of the world, went far beyond any effort of oratory ever previously made. It was the demonstration that the coming war was to be a war of ideas and principles, and not a mere war of brute force.” No perfect production of this speech has been preserved—perhaps none were possible; yet enough has been preserved to enable the thoughtful student to feel something of its inspiration:
“Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves. We have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned—we have remonstrated—we have supplicated—we have prostrated ourselves before the throne and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the Ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded, and we have been spurned with contempt from the foot of the throne. In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free—if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending—if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the object of our contest shall be obtained—we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us.
“There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery. Our chains are forged; their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston. The war is inevitable, and let it come. I repeat it, sir, let it come!
“Gentlemen may cry, Peace! peace! but there is no peace. The war has already begun. The next gale that sweeps from the North will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms. Our brethren are already in the field. Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!”
A dead silence followed this speech. The feelings it excited were too deep for applause; but there was no longer any hesitation or division of opinion. The proposal of Henry was adopted, and, in a short time, Virginia was alive with military preparation.
There are two prophesies in this eloquent speech which were fulfilled; one was that the clash of resounding arms would be heard by the next gale from the North—the battle of Lexington was fought on the 19th of April; and the other was that God would raise up friends to fight our battles for us. Our independence could hardly have been secured without the aid of the French, whom Lafayette led, and who were the friends that were raised up for us by a kind Providence.