LAST LABORS AT THE BAR
The incidents embraced within the last three chapters cover the period
from 1786 to 1791, and have been thus narrated by themselves for the
purpose of exhibiting as distinctly as possible, and in unbroken
sequence, Patrick Henry's relations to each succeeding phase of that
immense national movement which produced the American Constitution,
with its first ten amendments.
During those same fervid years, however, in which he was devoting, as
it might seem, every power of body and mind to his great labors as a
party leader, and as a critic and moulder of the new Constitution, he
had resumed, and he was sturdily carrying forward, most exacting
labors in the practice of the law.
Late in the year 1786, as will be remembered, being then poor and in
debt, he declined another election to the governorship, and set
himself to the task of repairing his private fortunes, so sadly fallen
to decay under the noble neglect imposed by his long service of the
public. One of his kinsmen has left on record a pleasant anecdote to
the effect that the orator happened to mention at that time to a
friend how anxious he was under the great burden of his debts. "Go
back to the bar," said his friend; "your tongue will soon pay your
debts. If you will promise to go, I will give you a retaining fee on
the spot."[416] This course, in fact, he had already determined to
take; and thus at the age of fifty, at no time robust in health, and
at that time grown prematurely old under the storm and stress of all
those unquiet years, he again buckled on his professional armor, rusty
from long disuse, and pluckily began his life over again, in the hope
of making some provision for his own declining days, as well as for
the honor and welfare of his great brood of children and
grandchildren. To this task, accordingly, he then bent himself, with a
grim wilfulness that would not yield either to bodily weakness, or to
the attractions or the distractions of politics. It is delightful to
be permitted to add, that his energy was abundantly rewarded; and that
in exactly eight years thereafter, namely in 1794, he was able to
retire, in comfort and wealth, from all public and professional
employments of every sort.
Of course the mere announcement, in 1786, that Patrick Henry was then
ready once more to receive clients, was enough to excite the attention
of all persons in Virginia who might have important interests in
litigation. His great renown throughout the country, his high personal
character, his overwhelming gifts in argument, his incomparable gifts
in persuasion, were such as to ensure an almost dominant advantage to
any cause which he should espouse before any tribunal. Confining
himself, therefore, to his function as an advocate, and taking only
such cases as were worth his attention, he was immediately called to
appear in the courts in all parts of the State.
It is not necessary for us to try to follow this veteran and brilliant
advocate in his triumphal progress from one court-house to another, or
to give the detail of the innumerable causes in which he was engaged
during these last eight years of his practice at the bar. Of all the
causes, however, in which he ever took part as a lawyer, in any period
of his career, probably the most difficult and important, in a legal
aspect, was the one commonly referred to as that of the British debts,
argued by him in the Circuit Court of the United States at Richmond,
first in 1791, and again, in the same place, in 1793.[417]
A glance at the origin of this famous cause will help us the better to
understand the significance of his relation to it. By the treaty with
Great Britain in 1783, British subjects were empowered "to recover
debts previously contracted to them by our citizens, notwithstanding a
payment of the debt into a state treasury had been made during the
war, under the authority of a state law of sequestration." According
to this provision a British subject, one William Jones, brought an
action of debt in the federal court at Richmond, against a citizen of
Virginia, Thomas Walker, on a bond dated May, 1772. The real question
was "whether payment of a debt due before the war of the Revolution,
from a citizen of Virginia to British subjects, into the loan office
of Virginia, pursuant to a law of that State, discharged the debtor."
The case, as will readily be seen, involved many subtle and difficult
points of law, municipal, national, and international; and the defence
was contained in the following five pleas: (1.) That of payment,
generally; (2.) That of the Virginia act of sequestration, October 20,
1777; (3.) That of the Virginia act of forfeiture, May 3, 1779; (4.)
That of British violations of the treaty of 1783; (5.) That of the
necessary annulment of the debt, in consequence of the dissolution of
the co-allegiance of the two parties, on the declaration of
independence.[418]
Some idea of the importance attached to the case may be inferred from
the assertion of Wirt, that "the whole power of the bar of Virginia
was embarked" in it; and that the "learning, argument, and eloquence"
exhibited in the discussion were such "as to have placed that bar, in
the estimation of the federal judges, ... above all others in the
United States."[419] Associated with Patrick Henry, for the defendant,
were John Marshall, Alexander Campbell, and James Innes.
For several weeks before the trial of this cause in 1791, Patrick
Henry secluded himself from all other engagements, and settled down to
intense study in the retirement of his home in the country. A grandson
of the orator, Patrick Henry Fontaine, who was there as a student of
the law, relates that he himself was sent off on a journey of sixty
miles to procure a copy of Vattel's Law of Nations. From this and
other works of international law, the old lawyer "made many
quotations; and with the whole syllabus of notes and heads of
arguments, he filled a manuscript volume more than an inch thick, and
closely written; a book ... bound with leather, and convenient for
carrying in his pocket. He had in his yard ... an office, built at
some distance from his dwelling, and an avenue of fine black locusts
shaded a walk in front of it.... He usually walked and meditated, when
the weather permitted, in this shaded avenue.... For several days in
succession, before his departure to Richmond to attend the court," the
orator was seen "walking frequently in this avenue, with his note-book
in his hand, which he often opened and read; and from his gestures,
while promenading alone in the shade of the locusts," it was supposed
that he was committing his speech to memory.[420] According to another
account, so eager was his application to this labor that, in one stage
of it, "he shut himself up in his office for three days, during which
he did not see his family; his food was handed by a servant through
the office door."[421] Of all this preparation, not unworthy to be
called Demosthenic, the result was, if we may accept the opinion of
one eminent lawyer, that Patrick Henry "came forth, on this occasion,
a perfect master of every law, national and municipal, which touched
the subject of investigation in the most distant point."[422]
It was on the 14th of November, 1791, that the cause came on to be
argued in the court-house at Richmond, before Judges Johnson and Blair
of the Supreme Court, and Judge Griffin of that district. The case of
the plaintiff was opened by Mr. Counsellor Baker, whose argument
lasted till the evening of that day. Patrick Henry was to begin his
argument in reply the next morning.
"The legislature was then in session; but when eleven
o'clock, the hour for the meeting of the court, arrived, the
speaker found himself without a house to do business. All
his authority and that of his sergeant at arms were
unavailing to keep the members in their seats: every
consideration of public duty yielded to the anxiety which
they felt, in common with the rest of their fellow citizens,
to hear this great man on this truly great and extensively
interesting question. Accordingly, when the court was ready
to proceed to business, the court-room of the capitol, large
as it is, was insufficient to contain the vast concourse
that was pressing to enter it. The portico, and the area in
which the statue of Washington stands, were filled with a
disappointed crowd, who nevertheless maintained their stand
without. In the court-room itself, the judges, through
condescension to the public anxiety, relaxed the rigor of
respect which they were in the habit of exacting, and
permitted the vacant seats of the bench, and even the
windows behind it, to be occupied by the impatient
multitude. The noise and tumult occasioned by seeking a more
favorable station was at length hushed, and the profound
silence which reigned within the room gave notice to those
without that the orator had risen, or was on the point of
rising. Every eye in front of the bar was riveted upon him
with the most eager attention; and so still and deep was the
silence that every one might hear the throbbing of his own
heart. Mr. Henry, however, appeared wholly unconscious that
all this preparation was on his account, and rose with as
much simplicity and composure as if the occasion had been
one of ordinary occurrence.... It may give the reader some
idea of the amplitude of the argument, when he is told that
Mr. Henry was engaged three days successively in its
delivery; and some faint conception of the enchantment which
he threw over it, when he learns that although it turned
entirely on questions of law, yet the audience, mixed as it
was, seemed so far from being wearied, that they followed
him throughout with increased enjoyment. The room continued
full to the last; and such was 'the listening silence' with
which he was heard, that not a syllable that he uttered is
believed to have been lost. When he finally sat down, the
concourse rose, with a general murmur of admiration; the
scene resembled the breaking up and dispersion of a great
theatrical assembly, which had been enjoying, for the first
time, the exhibition of some new and splendid drama; the
speaker of the House of Delegates was at length able to
command a quorum for business; and every quarter of the
city, and at length every part of the State, was filled with
the echoes of Mr. Henry's eloquent speech."[423]
In the spring of 1793 this cause was argued a second time, before the
same district judge, and, in addition, before Mr. Chief Justice Jay,
and Mr. Justice Iredell of the Supreme Court. On this occasion,
apparently, there was the same eagerness to hear Patrick Henry as
before,--an eagerness which was shared in by the two visiting judges,
as is indicated in part by a letter from Judge Iredell, who, on the
27th of May, thus wrote to his wife: "We began on the great British
causes the second day of the court, and are now in the midst of them.
The great Patrick Henry is to speak to-day."[424] Among the throng of
people who then poured into the court-room was John Randolph of
Roanoke, then a stripling of twenty years, who, having got a position
very close to the judges, was made aware of their conversation with
one another as the case proceeded. He describes the orator as not
expecting to speak at that time; "as old, very much wrapped up, and
resting his head on the bar." Meanwhile the chief justice, who, in
earlier days, had often heard Henry in the Continental Congress, told
Iredell that that feeble old gentleman in mufflers, with his head
bowed wearily down upon the bar, was "the greatest of orators."
"Iredell doubted it; and, becoming impatient to hear him, they
requested him to proceed with his argument, before he had intended to
speak.... As he arose, he began to complain that it was a hardship,
too great, to put the laboring oar into the hands of a decrepit old
man, trembling, with one foot in the grave, weak in his best days, and
far inferior to the able associate by him." Randolph then gives an
outline of his progress through the earlier and somewhat tentative
stages of his speech, comparing his movement to the exercise "of a
first-rate, four-mile race-horse, sometimes displaying his whole power
and speed for a few leaps, and then taking up again." "At last,"
according to Randolph, the orator "got up to full speed; and took a
rapid view of what England had done, when she had been successful in
arms; and what would have been our fate, had we been unsuccessful. The
color began to come and go in the face of the chief justice; while
Iredell sat with his mouth and eyes stretched open, in perfect wonder.
Finally, Henry arrived at his utmost height and grandeur. He raised
his hands in one of his grand and solemn pauses.... There was a
tumultuous burst of applause; and Judge Iredell exclaimed, 'Gracious
God! he is an orator indeed!'"[425] It is said, also, by another
witness, that Henry happened that day to wear on his finger a diamond
ring; and that in the midst of the supreme splendor of his eloquence,
a distinguished English visitor who had been given a seat on the
bench, said with significant emphasis to one of the judges, "The
diamond is blazing!"[426]
As examples of forensic eloquence, on a great subject, before a great
and a fit assemblage, his several speeches in the case of the British
debts were, according to all the testimony, of the highest order of
merit. What they were as examples of legal learning and of legal
argumentation, may be left for every lawyer to judge for himself, by
reading, if he so pleases, the copious extracts which have been
preserved from the stenographic reports of these speeches, as taken by
Robertson. Even from that point of view, they appear not to have
suffered by comparison with the efforts made, in that cause, on the
same side, by John Marshall himself. No inconsiderable portion of his
auditors were members of the bar; and those keen and competent critics
are said to have acknowledged themselves as impressed "not less by the
matter than the manner" of his speeches.[427] Moreover, though not
expressly mentioned, Patrick Henry's argument is pointedly referred to
in the high compliment pronounced by Judge Iredell, when giving his
opinion in this case:--
"The cause has been spoken to, at the bar, with a degree of
ability equal to any occasion.... I shall, as long as I
live, remember with pleasure and respect the arguments which
I have heard in this case. They have discovered an
ingenuity, a depth of investigation, and a power of
reasoning fully equal to anything I have ever witnessed; and
some of them have been adorned with a splendor of eloquence
surpassing what I have ever felt before. Fatigue has given
way under its influence, and the heart has been warmed,
while the understanding has been instructed."[428]
It will be readily understood, however, that while Patrick Henry's
practice included important causes turning, like the one just
described, on propositions of law, and argued by him before the
highest tribunals, the larger part of the practice to be had in
Virginia at that time must have been in actions tried before juries,
in which his success was chiefly due to his amazing endowments of
sympathy, imagination, tact, and eloquence. The testimony of
contemporary witnesses respecting his power in this direction is most
abundant, and also most interesting; and, for obvious reasons, such
portions of it as are now to be reproduced should be given in the very
language of the persons who thus heard him, criticised him, and made
deliberate report concerning him.
First of all, in the way of preliminary analysis of Henry's genius and
methods as an advocate before juries, may be cited a few sentences of
Wirt, who, indeed, never heard him, but who, being himself a very
gifted and a very ambitious advocate, eagerly collected and keenly
scanned the accounts of many who had heard him:--
"He adapted himself, without effort, to the character of the
cause; seized with the quickness of intuition its defensible
point, and never permitted the jury to lose sight of it. Sir
Joshua Reynolds has said of Titian, that, by a few strokes
of his pencil, he knew how to mark the image and character
of whatever object he attempted; and produced by this means
a truer representation than any of his predecessors, who
finished every hair. In like manner Mr. Henry, by a few
master-strokes upon the evidence, could in general stamp
upon the cause whatever image or character he pleased; and
convert it into tragedy or comedy, at his sovereign will,
and with a power which no efforts of his adversary could
counteract. He never wearied the jury by a dry and minute
analysis of the evidence; he did not expend his strength in
finishing the hairs; he produced all his high effect by
those rare master-touches, and by the resistless skill with
which, in a very few words, he could mould and color the
prominent facts of a cause to his purpose. He had wonderful
address, too, in leading off the minds of his hearers from
the contemplation of unfavorable points, if at any time they
were too stubborn to yield to his power of
transformation.... It required a mind of uncommon vigilance,
and most intractable temper, to resist this charm with which
he decoyed away his hearers; it demanded a rapidity of
penetration, which is rarely, if ever, to be found in the
jury-box, to detect the intellectual juggle by which he
spread his nets around them; it called for a stubbornness
and obduracy of soul which does not exist, to sit unmoved
under the pictures of horror or of pity which started from
his canvas. They might resolve, if they pleased, to decide
the cause against him, and to disregard everything which he
could urge in the defence of his client. But it was all in
vain. Some feint in an unexpected direction threw them off
their guard, and they were gone; some happy phrase, burning
from the soul; some image fresh from nature's mint, and
bearing her own beautiful and genuine impress, struck them
with delightful surprise, and melted them into conciliation;
and conciliation towards Mr. Henry was victory inevitable.
In short, he understood the human character so perfectly;
knew so well all its strength and all its weaknesses,
together with every path and by-way which winds around the
citadel of the best fortified heart and mind, that he never
failed to take them, either by stratagem or storm."[429]
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.