At a time of great political upheaval, President George Washington wrote to Patrick Henry in January 1799. Both men feared a civil war. In his letter, Washington asked his longtime ally to come forward for election to the Virginia House of Delegates as “a rallying cry for the timid and an attraction for the wavering.” Unable to refuse his former commander-in-chief, Henry announced his candidacy for the Virginia Legislature. Although unopposed and much weakened by the illness that would take his life three months later, Henry traveled to the county seat, formerly Marysville and now Charlotte Court House, to speak on court day. This would prove to be his last public address.
In the second volume of his 1891 biography of Patrick Henry, William Wirt Henry provided an account of his grandfather’s speech, which several eyewitnesses gave to him. The following is copied from this book.
March 4, 1799
Mr. Henry accomplished the twenty miles journey from his home to the Court House, in his carriage, before court day, and was entertained by a friend near the village. When he was driven to the village on court morning, and descended from his carriage, he found a crowd had already assembled, which surrounded and followed him whithersoever he moved, manifesting unmistakably their admiration and reverence. A Baptist minister, whose piety was wounded by this homage paid to a mortal, asked the people aloud, why they thus followed Mr. Henry about. “Mr. Henry, “said he, “is not a god!” “No,” said Mr. Henry, deeply affected both by the scene and the remark; no, indeed, my friend; I am but a poor worm of the dust-as fleeting and unsubstantial as the shadow of the cloud that flies over yon fields, and is remembered no more.” The tone with which this was uttered, and the look which accompanied it, affected every heart, and silenced every voice.
He soon took a seat in the porch of the tavern, and waited for the hour to make his speech. The scene is thus described by one of the students of Hampden Sidney, present, who pushed his way through the gathering crowd, and secured a position by the pedestal of a pillar 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.”
The substance of his speech has been preserved in the accounts given by the listeners, and is as follows:
“He told the people that the late proceedings of the Virginia Assembly had filled him with apprehension 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, to point a weapon at the breast of the man who had so often led them to battle and victory? ‘A drunken man in the crowd, John Harvey by name, threw up his arm and exclaimed, that he dared do it.’ ‘No,’ answered Mr. Henry, rising aloft in all his majesty, (and in a voice most solemn and penetrating; you dare not do it; in such a parricidal attempt, the steel would drop from your nerveless arm!’ ‘The look and gesture at this moment,’ said Dr. John H. Rice, who related the incident, ‘gave to these words an energy on my mind unequalled by anything that I have ever witnessed.’ Mr. Henry, proceeding in his address, 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 alien and sedition laws, which had given occasion to the action of the Assembly. He would say of them, that they were passed by Congress, and Congress is a wise body. That these laws were too deep for him, they might be right and they might be wrong. But whatever might be their merits or demerits, 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 that 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 which cannot be otherwise 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. If the administration have done wrong, let us all go wrong together.’ Here he clasped his hands and waved his body to the right and left, his auditory unconsciously waving with him. ‘Let us,’ said he, trust God and our better judgment to set us right hereafter. United we stand, divided we fall. Let us not split into factions which must destroy that union upon which our existence hangs. Let us preserve our strength for the French, the English, the Germans, or whoever else shall dare 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.”
“There was,” says the distinguished orator from whose narration nearly all of the foregoing was taken, “an emphasis in his language to which, like the force of his articulation, and the commanding expression of his eye, no representation can do justice; yet I am conscious of having given a correct transcript of his opinions, and in many instances his very expressions.”
As he closed his address he literally descended into the arms of the obstreperous throng, and was carried into a room of the tavern where he could rest after his fatigue.
