University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER II.

When the removal of the powder was made
known in Williamsburg, intense excitement prevailed.
The people crowded together in groups,
uneasy, irritated, and alarmed. Each man looked
to his arms, and many threatened violent retaliation

With promptness the Common Council of the city
addressed a message to the Governor, expressing
their concern at the late occurrence. They reminded
him that the powder had been provided for
public use, and after intimating that danger was
apprehended from the slaves, who had been lately
instigated to rebellion by "wicked and designing
persons," they earnestly asked that the Governor
would explain his conduct, and direct that the
powder should be restored.[105] Lord Dunmore's answer
was evasive and insincere: he talked much of
the safety of the Colony, but his mind was evidently
absorbed in his own selfish interests. When he
heard that the citizens were in arms, his passions
were roused, and with mingled fear and rage he
swore that if any injury was offered to himself or
to those who had acted in the affair of the gunpowder,
he would proclaim freedom to the slaves,
and reduce Williamsburg to ashes. A threat so
inhuman was not fitted to allay the popular storm.
Some may have thought that it was the result of
momentary feeling; but others, who knew Dunmore
well, believed him capable of all excesses, and
events soon proved that his purpose had been deliberately
formed.

The people around the capital were in high excitement,
and their sentiments were fully shared by
others at a distance. By advice of the Council,
Dunmore issued a proclamation full of vague threats
and hollow promises, and giving no satisfactory account

of his action about the powder.[106] (May 8.) So
little did this paper answer the purpose for which
his lordship intended it, that it became the signal
for renewed trouble. Hardly had it appeared, before
a number of persons entered the magazine at
night, and removed a great quantity of muskets,
cartouch boxes, swords, and other military munitions.
This act was unjustifiable, and was properly
condemned by the civil authorities of Williamsburg;
but it was made a pretext for measures which
hastened the coming conflict.

At this time England maintained a naval armament
on many parts of the American coast, and
several ships of war were in the waters of Virginia.
Among these was the Fowey, then lying near Yorktown,
and commanded by Captain George Montague.
Alarmed at each advance of the patriotic
power, Dunmore opened a correspondence with the
British officer, and when the magazine was rifled,
he requested that a guard of marines might be sent
from the Fowey to protect the palace at Williamsburg.
Montague complied with the request; and
at the same time that the detachment commenced
its march, he addressed to Thomas Nelson, President
of Council, a letter which, in its savage spirit,
might be ranked with the threats of the Governor.
He speaks of the party he is sending to guard Dunmore,
and hopes they will not be molested, declaring
that if they should be attacked, he would immediately
open upon Yorktown the batteries of his

ship.[107] When this letter was laid before the committee
for the town of York, it excited the warmest
indignation against its author. Mr. Nelson had
been active in soothing the discontented, and upholding
the royal authority; the notice was given
after the marching of the marines, so that no efforts
could be made to preserve them from attack; the
town of York was defenceless, and was full of
women and children. Taking these facts into view,
the committee voted that Captain Montague had
"testified a spirit of cruelty unprecedented in the
annals of civilized times," and they recommended
that no marks of civility should be shown to him,
except those required by "common decency and
absolute necessity."

While these events were in progress, the country
was kindling into flame. On every side, as the
news of the seizure of the powder and the threats
of the Governor were made known, the people ran
to arms. Hanover, Caroline, Spotsylvania, Frederick,
and Berkeley were alive with volunteers preparing
rifles and muskets, or mounting troops for
scouring the lower counties. The meeting in Fredericksburg
merits a special notice. Six hundred
men, well armed, and in uncommonly fine discipline,
assembled at the call of their officers, and
despatched some delegates to ascertain the posture
of things at Williamsburg. While together,
these patriots held a meeting, consisting of one
hundred and two persons, citizens, soldiers, and

delegates to the Assembly, and adopted resolutions
bolder in spirit, and more nearly approaching to a
declaration of independence than any that had yet
appeared. They denounced Dunmore's measures
with freedom, and without evasion or fear they declared
that "the troops would preserve their liberty
at the hazard of their lives and fortunes." Though
they deprecated civil war, yet, considering the
liberties of America to be in danger, they pledged
themselves to reassemble at a moment's warning,
and by force of arms to defend the laws, and the
rights "of this or any sister Colony" from invasion;
and they concluded by the sentence: "God save
the liberties of America!"[108] When their messengers
arrived from Williamsburg, they reported
affairs as quiet for a time, and the volunteers returned
to their homes.

Patrick Henry had watched the progress of events
with deep interest. Believing that a sudden and
decisive stroke would do much to rouse the hearts
of his countrymen, and commit them for the war,
he accepted the command of a body of troops raised
in Hanover for the express purpose of marching to
retake the powder removed from the magazine.
His very name kindled enthusiasm. The neighbouring
counties raised companies of infantry and
horse, who hastened to array themselves under so

distinguished a leader. It is supposed that in a
short time not less than five thousand men were in
arms, and ready to march at a moment's warning.
But while Henry and his men were advancing,
Dunmore sought means to divert the storm which
threatened destruction to his authority. He sent
Richard Corbin, the King's Receiver-General, to
meet the determined American, and offer him terms
of settlement. (May 4.) At Doncaster's ordinary,
in New Kent, Henry received from Mr. Corbin
three hundred and thirty pounds sterling, as compensation
for the powder, and passed to him a
written acknowledgment stating all the facts of the
case.[109] The object of their march being accomplished,
Mr. Henry offered their services to Treasurer
Nicholas, as a guard for Williamsburg, if
danger was apprehended; but an answer was received
declining the offer, and the soldiers returned
in triumph to their abodes in the country.

The Governor's perplexity was extreme. His
own imprudence and harshness had irritated the
people to measures which approached nearly to war.
At this juncture, by advice of his Council, and with
the hope of allaying the popular ferment, he summoned
an Assembly to meet the 1st day of June.
This House of Burgesses was the last that ever sat
upon the soil of Virginia, although many of its
members were afterwards prominent in her independent
legislatures. Nothing could more forcibly
have shown the state of the public mind than the
appearance of the burgesses as they arrived and

took their seats in the house. All bore faces of
seriousness and resolve; many were clothed in
hunting shirts, and brought with them the faithful
rifles, which were afterwards to be companions in
the field.[110] Yet the proceedings were opened with
due ceremony, and the Governor's address was
more than usually courteous. He commended to
their consideration the late resolutions of the House
of Commons, in which Lord North professed to
hold forth the olive branch to America, and to declare
that all her real grievances should be removed.

This "conciliatory plan" had been introduced
by the Prime Minister on the 20th of February,
and had at first surprised both the friends and foes
of America. It provided that whenever the Legislature
or General Court of any Colony should make
due appropriation for bearing its part in the expenses
of the kingdom, and for the support of its
own rulers and officers, then it would be expedient
that Great Britain should cease to tax such Colony.[111]
Had such a proposition been made at an early stage
of the dispute, it might perhaps have calmed the
colonists for a season, but now their eyes were open.
None could fail to see that the plan offered no real
remedy. It simply said, if you will tax yourselves
for our benefit to the amount we require, we will
not tax you; but the implication was irresistible,
that, directly or indirectly, the tax was to be paid.

In truth, the measure was but an insidious attempt
to distract the Colonies, and rend asunder that
union which was so formidable to the Ministry.
Lord North did not conceal that such was his object;
and his adherents in the House repeated his
views. The bill became a law by a considerable
majority.

Virginia was not duped by this scheme. The
House of Burgesses appointed a committee to examine
it, who in a few days brought in a report adverse
to the proposition. This able paper was from
the pen of Thomas Jefferson, and it bears stamped
upon its face the impress of his acute and powerful
mind. It declared that the plan was rejected, because
they had the right to give their money as
they pleased, without coercion; because other grievances
were left unredressed; because England had
already invaded their country by sea and land;
because free trade was not allowed to them; and,
finally, because they would not treat without the
concurrence of all the Colonies. The report concluded
in a strain of eloquent asseveration, and in
committing to the justice of Heaven the cause
which could hope for nothing from the rulers of
Britain.[112]

Dunmore's conduct betrayed a strange mixture
of presumption and wavering, of boasting and
cowardice, of pretended firmness and real alarm.
He had issued a proclamation speaking of Patrick
Henry in most contemptuous terms, and warning
all men to oppose him in his attempts to disturb

the peace of the Colony;[113] yet he yielded to the
House when its members sought to investigate the
affair of the gunpowder, and declared his readiness
to render to them the key of the magazine. Deep,
indeed, must have been the malignity which, under
smiles and concessions, sought to cover a purpose
of treachery and revenge.

On the night of the 5th of June, several young
men entered the magazine to procure arms. As
they passed the door, a cord attached to it discharged
a spring gun, and three of the party were
severely wounded. One had his shoulder torn to
pieces with small bullets, and another lost three
fingers of his left hand. When this incident was
made known, none doubted that the contrivance
was by Dunmore's order, and popular feeling
against him increased in violence. A committee of
the House of Burgesses was appointed to search the
magazine, and several barrels of powder were found
buried under its floor, which were doubtless to be
used as a mine, when the Governor thought proper
to blow up the building and all who ventured into
it.[114] The indignation of the people was no longer
concealed. The Assembly used every exertion to
preserve order in the town, but it seemed impossible
to prevent a rupture. Terrified by the consequences
of his own conduct, and being in mortal
fear for his life, at 2 o'clock on the morning of the
8th, Dunmore fled from the palace, and, in company
with his wife and some of his domestics, took

refuge on board the Fowey at Yorktown. He was
of course accompanied by Foy, who feared the
citizens hardly less than did the Governor himself.

From this time until the 24th of June, messages
were almost daily exchanged between the House of
Burgesses and his lordship. Dunmore alleged as
a reason for his flight, that he was no longer safe
in Williamsburg, and that he had constant reason
to fear personal violence. The House addressed to
him several dignified missives, professing their
readiness to unite with him in measures for quieting
the country; but no persuasions would induce him
to trust his precious person to their guardianship.
Several bills of high importance were passed, among
which was one making provision for the officers
and soldiers in the late Indian war; but the Governor
refused his assent, unless they would comply
with his unreasonable demands. At length the
dispute reached its height. On the 23d, Dunmore
commanded the Burgesses to come in person on
board the Fowey, and receive his assent to the bills
which were ready. When this insolent order was
made known, the Assembly threw off all reserve,
and passed resolutions declaring that his command
was "a high breach of their rights and privileges;"
that his delays and evasions warned the people to
prepare for defence; and that they bore true allegiance
to his majesty King George, and would
uphold his authority according to the "established
laws and principles of the constitution."[115] The correspondence
between the Governor and the Assembly

was now closed, never to be renewed; and
in his absence the remaining bills were assented to
by the Council. It will be proper at once to relate
the final acts of the last House of Burgesses. They
adjourned, first to the 12th of October, then to the
first Thursday in March, 1776. At that time
thirty-two members only appearing, they again
adjourned to the 6th of May; and on that day, although
a few members attended, they did no business,
and soon dispersed. Such was the end of the
Colonial Assembly of Virginia. It had been constituted
in a reign of despotism—had served through
seasons of gloom and oppression—had led the way
in declaring principles of freedom, which sunk
deeply into the hearts of America, and had only
ceased to act when it was to be succeeded by a
child more independent, though not more enlightened
and courageous. With the death of the Assembly,
the authority of the King passed away for
ever in the Old Dominion.

Before their first separation, the Burgesses had
agreed to meet in convention at Richmond on the
17th of July; and accordingly they then assembled
and commenced deliberations. The question of
peace and war was no longer doubtful, and without
delay, means were adopted for arming Virginia.
Volunteers began to pour in on all sides; the dragoons
of the tide-water counties, the riflemen of the
west, and the young soldiers from the best families
between the Blue Ridge and the Bay, were all in
motion. The convention was too cumbrous a body
to act with promptness, and therefore a Committee

of Safety was appointed, consisting of eleven members,[116] to whom broad powers were given for the
public defence.

Their preparations were not premature. Immediately
after the close of his correspondence with
the House of Burgesses, Lord Dunmore sailed down
the bay in the Fowey, and made diligent efforts to
collect an armed force to attack Virginia. He made
the harbour of Norfolk the place of rendezvous for
his fleet. This flourishing seaport then contained
about six thousand inhabitants, and was in many
respects the most important town in Virginia. Its
position gave to it so many commercial advantages
that trade from abroad flowed into it spontaneously,
and wealth began to accumulate. That there were
patriots within its bounds, no one can doubt; but
its leading inhabitants were English and Scotch
merchants, who loved money more than liberty,
who revered Britain too much to serve America,
and who would willingly have seen the Revolution
strangled in its birth. Dunmore's first measure in
Norfolk was the seizure of Holt's printing press,
which had been bold in uttering republican sentiments.
The insignificant band sent to effect this
purpose might easily have been crushed; but the
tories were numerous, and the rulers were overawed.[117] Emboldened by this success, the Governor
resolved on further violence. He had now under

his command, besides the Fowey, the Mercury, of
twenty-four guns, the Kingfisher, of sixteen, and
the Otter, of fourteen, with two companies of the
fourteenth regiment, from the West Indies, and a
rabble of negroes and tories, who had resorted to
his standard. He fitted out several tenders and
lighter vessels, and, hovering around the coasts,
plundered the people, stole live stock, and destroyed
improvements in a way highly congenial to his
taste.

The town of Hampton daily feared an attack.
Many at the seat of government thought that true
policy would require that the whole lower country
bordering on the bay should be wasted and abandoned,
so as to afford no support to the enemy.[118] But
this scheme, though it rivals the terrible resolution
of the Russians at Moscow, was disapproved. The
Committee of Safety despatched Colonel Woodford,
at the head of one hundred mounted riflemen, to
repel the threatened attack.

Hampton was a small seaport in the end of the
isthmus between York and James Rivers. Its
people were accustomed to sea scenes, and two of
its sons had already distinguished themselves by
bold captures of vessels belonging to the English
fleet.[119] On the 24th of October, the British Captain
Squires, with six tenders full of armed men, approached
the town. Believing they would meet
with feeble opposition, the boats' crews left the

tenders, and under a heavy fire to cover their attack,
they pulled towards the shore. But they were received
with a shower of rifle bullets. Marksmen,
concealed behind fences on the beach, or in the
town, poured upon them a fire so precise and
deadly, that the boats were hauled hastily around,
and with the loss of many of their men, returned
to the tenders.

Colonel Woodford and the Culpeper riflemen
marched all night through a heavy rain, and at 8
o'clock the next morning they were ready to aid
the gallant militia of Hampton and the neighbourhood
in repelling the second attack. Several vessels
had been sunk immediately before the town,
so that the tenders could not easily approach; but
during the night Squires succeeded in cutting
away the obstacles, and in the morning his fleet
was in the harbour and drawn up with broadsides
bearing on the town. (Oct. 25.) Instantly a cannonade
commenced. Double-headed bullets were
fired in rapid succession, and chain-shot were hurled
among the houses, and swept the streets exposed to
the water. The patriots had no heavy guns to oppose,
and the English thought their victory secure.
But the riflemen drew close to the river's edge,
and concealing themselves behind fences, trees,
and shrubs, marked every tender with their fire.
They sent their lead with fatal precision. Not a
man showed his face over a gunwale, who was not
pierced by a ball. Not a sail could be touched,
without exposing him who attempted it to certain
death. The British were struck with astonishment

and dismay: confusion appeared in their movements,
and they endeavoured to draw off from the
town and escape into the bay. Some succeeded,
though with the loss of several men; but two tenders
drifted ashore, and the commander of one of
them, after in vain trying to rouse his men to exertion,
sprang into the water, and succeeded in swimming
safely to the opposite beach. His crew dared
not raise their heads from the deck, for fear of
meeting a rifle ball. Thus the Americans captured
two tenders, and, besides the prisoners, they took
six swivels, seven muskets, and a quantity of pistols,
small swords, and other weapons.[120]

Such was the first battle of the Revolution that
was fought in Virginia. In many respects it was
singular in its character. Vessels armed with
cannon fired upon an exposed town, and men with
no weapons heavier than rifles drove them from
their moorings. No one can doubt who were the
victors. The British vessels with difficulty escaped.
Men were sent to the narrow part of the channel to
oppose their egress, and nothing but a false rumour
saved them. It was reported that a large body of
the enemy were marching into the country. The
patriots halted, and the prey escaped.[121]

Hostilities were now fully opened. At Burwell's
Ferry a party of Virginia riflemen drove off the
Kingfisher, which had been sent up James River
to oppose their passage;[122] and an attack made upon

Jamestown by an armed boat was gallantly repelled
by two sentinels placed upon guard by Captain
Green.[123] Dunmore was alarmed at the bold spirit
everywhere manifested by the people, and determined
in person to strike a blow from which he
hoped decisive results. With design to seize some
cannon belonging to the Colony, he left Norfolk
the 16th of November at the head of two companies
of regulars and a disorderly group of slaves and
tories, and penetrated into Princess Anne County.
Colonel Hutchings resolved, if possible, to defeat
him by ambuscade, and raising two hundred militia,
led them to the attack. At the first volley Dunmore's
heroes were in utter dismay, and crowding together
like frightened sheep, they might easily have been
routed; but the regulars with great firmness formed
a square with the Governor in the centre, and returned
the fire. A shameful panic seized the
militia; they broke and fled from the ground, leaving
one of their number dead, and nine wounded
and prisoners to the enemy. Colonel Hutchings
himself was among the latter number. He was
wounded by the fire, and made no attempt to escape.[124]

Emboldened by this success, Dunmore now declared
open war. He published a proclamation,
which had been prepared some days before.[125] In

this he speaks with bitterness of the defence made
at Hampton and other places, and charges the
people of Virginia with commencing hostilities.
He commands all to repair to the royal standard,
and enrol themselves, under penalty of being
declared traitors, and exposed to death and confiscation
of lands and chattels. With inhuman zeal,
he pronounces all slaves and indentured servants
to be free, and urges them to take up arms against
their masters. By this course he hoped to strike
terror into the hearts of the patriots, and to awe the
Colony into submission; but his ungenerous soul
had little felt the power of those motives which
now impelled the people. Instead of subduing, the
proclamation roused them to new exertions. On
every side men left their daily pursuits and ran to
arms. Companies, mounted and on foot, were constantly
reported at Williamsburg, and the great
difficulty of the committee was not to obtain men,
but weapons and ammunition.[126]

It was at this time that another developement
was made, tending yet more to excite all good men
against the Governor. We have heretofore mentioned
his agent Conolly, as one employed by him
in responsible offices and secret schemes. The
movements of this man became mysterious. He
repaired to Boston, and held an interview with
General Gage, the British commander-in-chief,
and at the same time, many things proved that he
was in correspondence with Dunmore. Vigilant
eyes were upon him, and a few days after he parted

from the Governor at Norfolk, he was arrested
about five miles from Hagerstown, in Maryland.
On searching him, the captors found a large sum
of money, and several papers which developed a
gigantic scheme for the ruin of Virginia. It was
proposed that all the Indian tribes on the frontiers
should be assembled, and by presents, promises,
and exhortations, should be urged to take up the
hatchet against the whites. Among the papers
was a letter from Dunmore himself to a noted Indian
chief, whom he addresses as his "brother
White Eyes," telling him of the plot, and urging
him to communicate it to Cornstalk and other powerful
warriors.[127] Thus this infernal plot was discovered
and defeated. It is impossible to depict in
colours too dark, the infamy of the man, who, not
content with rousing slaves to shed the blood of
their masters, would have brought the knife and
the hatchet upon hundreds of defenceless families
in the great valley of the Alleghanies.

The Committee of Safety had now adopted vigorous
means for completing the military establishment
of Virginia. They had raised three
complete regiments, of which the first was commanded
by Patrick Henry, and the second by William
Woodford: William Christian was Lieutenant-Colonel.
Alexander Spotswood was appointed
Major, and the heroic Bullet, who had so distinguished
himself in the massacre near Fort Duquesne,
was made Adjutant-General.[128] It will be

proper to remark, that Mr. Henry did not long retain
his command. Although he was possessed of
undoubted courage, and was not deficient in military
capacity, yet his talents called him to the
council chamber, and we cannot regret that he was
soon induced to resign his commission. He was,
however, moved to this, by some unpleasant differences
with Congress and Colonel Woodford, as to
rank, and his resignation, for a time, threatened to
produce embittered feeling among the volunteers,
but with true patriotism, he quelled the storm, and
urged all to united efforts for their country.[129] Woodford
was a brave and virtuous officer—cautious
without timidity—humane without weakness—decided
without obstinacy. Virginia could not have
entrusted her little army to a more competent
leader.

From his retreat in Norfolk, Dunmore was the
moving power of a disgraceful warfare waged upon
the property and lives of the people exposed on the
bay, or up the lower rivers. He made demonstrations
against Suffolk, in the county of Nansemond,
but a force of riflemen, commanded by Major Marshall,[130] and Lieutenant Scott, drove him back to his
safeholds. A point known as the Great Bridge,
had become very important to both parties. It was
not more than twelve miles from Norfolk, it crossed
a branch of Elizabeth River, and was connected by

a long causeway with the firm land; deep swamps
surrounded it, and the road through these led to
Norfolk, and when once gained, opened the way
for the American army. On the island, at the extremity
of the causeway nearest Norfolk, the English
had thrown up a small fort, and on the other
side stood several houses, principally used in the
extensive trade in turpentine and shingles, carried
on through the seaport.

Colonel Woodford, with the second regiment,
and a number of minute men, was sent down to
attack the enemy, and if possible open the way to
Norfolk. He arrived on the 2d December, accompanied
by Adjutant Bullet, whose courage and experience
were thought all-important at this crisis.
From this time until the 9th, nothing decisive took
place—the patriots were employed in throwing up
a breastwork in front of the causeway leading from
the bridge. Frequent skirmishes took place, and
in one of these some negroes were taken prisoners,
on whom were found a quantity of gashed balls.
They declared that this was done under the direction
of Dunmore, who spared no means that ferocity
could suggest, to injure the people so lately
under his charge.[131]

The English force consisted of about one hundred
regulars, and more than three hundred tories,
convicts, and negro slaves. A stratagem is said
to have brought on their attack. Major Marshall's
servant deserted and informed the British commander

that Woodford had only three hundred
shirt men with him, and that these were in a
wretched state of discipline and preparation. It
is not easy to decide whether this scheme was or
was not with the sanction of the American officers.
The number reported was not far from the truth,
and the term "shirt men" was applied by the
English to the rifle troops of Virginia, who wore
the graceful hunting-shirt, afterwards so well
known in the battles of the Revolution. But an
attack was resolved on. (December 9.) At the head
of a select body, embracing the flower of the
regulars, and the best of all the other troops, Captain
Fordyce charged across the bridge, and advanced
upon the breastwork. He was received
with a shower of bullets from rifles, but the outer
guard was broken and dispersed in confusion. The
breastwork was now immediately in front. Waving
his hat gallantly over his head, and cheering on
his men, Fordyce rushed forward in the face of a
terrible fire, which flashed along the whole American
line. A ball pierced his knee; he staggered
forward and fell, but instantly springing upon his
feet, he brushed his knee slightly with his hand,
as though he had fallen by accident, and continued
his advance. Bullet pointed him out to his riflemen,
and the words of caution had hardly passed
his lips, before Fordyce fell dead to the ground,
fourteen balls having entered his body.[132] This was
the signal for the total rout of the English. Colonel
Stevens, with a body of riflemen on the left,
threw in a flanking fire, the enemy fled precipitately
across the bridge, leaving the second in command
mortally wounded, and Lieutenant Battut
severely hurt, and a prisoner in the hands of the
patriots.

The courage displayed by the Virginians in these
scenes, was only equalled by their humanity. Good
authority has proved that Dunmore had told his
inexperienced troops that they would be scalped if
they fell into the power of the enemy, and when
one of the patriots ran forward to help a wounded
soldier who fell on the causeway, the prisoner in
great alarm cried out, "For God's sake, do not
murder me!" The man replied by raising him
tenderly from the ground, and carrying him out
from the dangerous passage. So striking was the
incident, that the British commander, Leslie, acknowledged
it with deep feeling from the platform
of the fort.[133] The brave Fordyce was interred with
the honours of war. The cruelty of their own
Governor could not make the soldiers of Virginia
forget the duty they owed to a generous and fallen
enemy.

Although Colonel Woodford was too cautious to
attack the British fort, he determined, if possible,
to drive the enemy from the island. Colonel
Stevens volunteered for the duty, and succeeded in
crossing the bridge with one hundred of his finest
marksmen. Here he placed his men under cover,
and kept up an incessant fire, which soon wrought
the desired end. The negroes fled in dismay, and

the tories followed them after a feeble resistance.
Finding the fort no longer tenable, Major Leslie
abandoned it, and with his regulars, made good his
retreat to Norfolk. His whole loss, in killed,
wounded, and prisoners, amounted to one hundred
and two men, and he left behind him two spiked
cannon. Not one Virginian was killed, and only
one received a wound.[134]

When Lord Dunmore heard of the result at
the Great Bridge, he was frantic with rage. He
raved like a madman, and swore that he would
hang the messenger who brought the news. But
his passion soon gave way to fear. The road
to Norfolk was now open to the patriots, and
Woodford made preparations to approach the town.
The triumph of the tories was over. Trembling
with alarm, and conscious that they merited nothing
but infamy, they dreaded to meet the victors.
Boastings and insolence were exchanged for impotent
murmurs. Colonel Woodford sent a message
to the mayor and town authorities, informing them
that he was marching with no intent to make war
on the inhabitants, and that he would use no violence
unless he was opposed: he therefore desired
to know what reception he might expect. To this
missive no answer was returned: the chief men
had become too much involved in British interests
to escape, and it is to be feared that too many of
the inhabitants were unfavourable to the cause of
freedom. Nothing now could be seen on all sides
but men and women flying into the country with
such valuables as they could carry. Among these

fugitives, Dunmore vied with the most active in
his preparations for flight. While the danger was
distant he was brave, but the moment it approached,
his cowardly heart gave way. He went hastily
aboard a man-of-war in the harbour, and the English
fleet at the same time received a wretched
train of traitors from Norfolk, who feared to face
their patriot countrymen.

Woodford had been joined by Colonel Robert
Howe of North Carolina, who brought with him
about four hundred and thirty fresh troops. Howe's
commission was from Congress, and under the
rules of the service he took precedence of the Virginia
officer, but the utmost harmony prevailed between
them. At 10 o'clock, on the night of the
14th December, the Americans entered Norfolk;
a few scattering shots were fired by disaffected
inhabitants, but in a short time all was quiet, and
the town was fully under patriot control.[135] Warm
congratulations were exchanged between the soldiers
and those brave citizens who had remained
faithful in the hour of trial; and addresses full of
gratitude poured in upon the commanders. It
might now have been hoped that Dunmore would
have retired, and that, as he was unable to hold the
place, he would not seek an unmanly revenge, by
endeavouring to injure the town. But there was
nothing generous in his nature: his disappointment
galled him to frenzy, and he sought victims
in all Virginians, whether they were friends or
foes.

The whole force of the Americans under Howe
and Woodford, amounted to twelve hundred and
seventy-five men. Many were raw recruits, but
some were experienced riflemen, and all were animated
by a common spirit of courage and freedom.
To attack the town under these circumstances, was
beyond Dunmore's views: he contented himself
with idle threats, and clamours for provisions. The
utmost vigilance was exerted to prevent supplies
from being obtained by the enemy, and not a
bushel of salt or of grain entered the British ships,
that was not bought with peril, and often with
blood. But on the 19th, the frigate Liverpool, of
twenty-eight guns, commanded by Captain Henry
Bellew, appeared in the harbour, together with an
armed brig, laden with ammunition and military
stores. Encouraged by this reinforcement, Dunmore
renewed his marauding attacks upon the
towns and plantations on the rivers: food was what
he principally sought: he had so long been accustomed
to luxury, that he could ill bear the miserable
pittance of sea-stores, with which the English
were forced to satisfy their hunger. Captain
Bellew joined heartily in his efforts, and finding
that nothing could be obtained by persuasion, he resolved
to try force. He exchanged messages with
Colonel Howe, in which he declared that he was
unwilling to fire upon the town, but that he would
do so unless a supply of fresh provisions should be
furnished for his men. To this menace the American
replied by firmly refusing all aid for the
English in general, although he permitted supplies

to be sent off for the Captain's private table.[136] This
course did not allay his irritation, and probably
hastened the catastrophe which followed.

(1776.) The first day of the new year, was one
of signal misfortune for the most flourishing seaport
of Virginia. The frigate Liverpool, the ship
Dunmore, and two sloops of war were moored with
their batteries bearing upon the town, and at half
past three in the afternoon, they opened a tremendous
fire. Heavy balls were hailed upon the
houses, and the streets exposed to the ships were
swept with incessant broadsides. Under cover of
this iron storm, a party of sailors and marines, well
armed, were landed in boats, and immediately set
fire to the warehouses and other buildings upon
the wharves. The great quantity of turpentine
and pitch stored in these houses caused them to
burn with frightful rapidity. The flames devoured
all before them, and the heat was soon so
intense that neighbouring buildings on other streets
caught fire, and in their turn spread the conflagration.
But in the midst of this scene of ruin, the
patriots were at their post; a battalion of riflemen
drew near the shore, and singling out their men in
the party on the wharves, they poured upon them
a fire which drove them back to their boats. Again
and again the attempt to land was renewed. Marines
and sailors gained the shore, but hardly had
they touched the wharves, before the fatal rifles
were at work, and with severe loss they retreated
to the ships. Colonel Stevens, at the head of a

select body of Virginia troops, was in constant motion,
and repulsed every attack made during the
night, and the three days that followed.[137]

Had the Americans contended only with human
foes, they would have triumphed. But the fire
raging in the town was a more fearful enemy. The
wind blew strongly from the shore, and carried
burning shingles to an immense distance into the
heart of the city. Heavy volumes of smoke settled
in the streets, and clouds of heated ashes were
driven in the faces of those who sought to extinguish
the flames. The fire of the English ships
was not suspended for a moment. The incessant
roar of their cannon was heard, and every part of
the town became a mark for their balls. No respect
was paid either to private property or to edifices
intended for religious worship. The time-honoured
church of brick, which stands in the
midst of the city, yet carries the mark of a heavy
bullet, which shattered one of its corners.[138] For
three days and nights the fire burned without intermission.
Warehouses and stores, private mansions,
and public buildings were alike its victims.
Nine tenths of the town were reduced to ashes, and
property amounting to three hundred thousand
pounds sterling was destroyed. The distress attending
this calamity can be more readily imagined
than described. Out of a population of six

thousand persons, more than four thousand were
at once deprived of their homes, and driven forth to
seek shelter in the counties above.[139]

Amid these scenes of destruction, it is singular
that, on the part of the patriots, so few lives should
have been lost. One aged woman was killed by a
cannon ball in the upper part of the town. Several
children and females perished in the streets, either
from the shot from the ships, or from the fall of
burning houses; but of the troops, not one man
was killed, and only seven were wounded.[140] The
loss of the enemy is supposed to have been much
more severe. With what feelings Lord Dunmore
could have contemplated the wanton destruction of
the town, to whose people he owed so much gratitude,
it would be difficult to divine. Brutal revenge
may have been sated, but no really valuable
end was obtained. No food was procured; no foes
were subdued; no spirit of disaffection was overcome.
The Americans had rather gained confidence
by their successful resistance; their souls
were fired with indignation against an enemy capable
of such measures, and their very misfortunes
were converted into nutriment for courage and patriotism.[141]

We must now follow Dunmore to the close of
his inglorious career in Virginia, although, before
he left her shores, events not connected with him

had occurred, which powerfully influenced her destinies.
After the burning of Norfolk, he could have
had little hope of an amicable settlement of his
hostilities against the Colony; yet, in the month of
February, we find him entering into correspondence
with Richard Corbin (formerly the King's
receiver-general), and insidiously urging a return
to allegiance to Britain. His letter was laid before
the Committee of Safety, and an interview took
place between Mr. Corbin and the discarded Governor;
but nothing like an approach to submission
can be detected in the conduct of the guardians of
Virginia.[142]

Dunmore was again reduced to a wretched condition.
His fleet consisted not only of the men-of-war,
but of more than fifty transports, carrying a
crowd of unhappy tories, men and women; a great
many negroes, who had been enticed from their
masters; and a rabble of convicts and other degraded
characters, who had joined his standard in
more prosperous times. With them he cruised up
and down the bay, landing at one point, burning
a house at another; stealing private property from
a third. His fleet was scantily supplied with food,
and the increasing heats of the season threatened
sickness of the most fatal character.

Meanwhile the great drama of the Revolution
had fully opened, and to provide for the safety of
the South, Congress had appointed Major-General
Charles Lee to the command of the southern division
of the United Colonies. This well-known

officer was an Englishman by birth, and a Virginian
by adoption. He was brave to enthusiasm,
and excitable to a fault; his temper was generous,
but impatient; he knew better how to control others
than himself. His brilliant talents and chivalrous
bearing had already endeared him to all who knew
him, and his eccentricities had not yet become so
glaring as to forfeit public confidence. He arrived
at Williamsburg on the 29th of March, and took in
at a glance the military condition of Virginia. He
saw that so long as the fleet of Dunmore continued
to hover on the eastern waters, the disaffected of
the counties on the bay would meet with aid and
countenance, and though their number was not
large their example was pernicious. In the counties
of Norfolk and Princess Anne, particularly, the
tories still assembled in strength, and finding all
more gentle measures useless, General Lee warmly
supported a stern system, which the Committee of
Safety at length adopted in full.

Orders were sent to Colonel Woodford to remove
all the inhabitants of these two counties living between
the Great Bridge and Kemp's Landing on
the one side, and the ocean on the other. They
were to be carried into the interior, and, at the
same time, all their live stock and other movable
property was to be conveyed to a place of safety,
and kept for the benefit of the owners.[143] At the
same time General Lee ordered that if any persons
should be discovered in correspondence with the
enemy, they should be seized as traitors, their houses

should be burned, and they should be sent pinioned
and handcuffed to Williamsburg, with a written
statement of their crimes.[144]

These harsh but necessary commands, were carried
into effect by Woodford, with a humanity and
skill which reflect on him the highest credit. It
was found impossible to execute the purpose in its
literal sense, but so many of the people were removed,
that few were left to be tampered with by
the enemy, and Dunmore found himself in imminent
danger of famine, from the cautious measures
which had cut off all his streams of supply.

Just in the mouth of the River Piankatank, and
within the limits of the county now known as
Mathews,[145] lies an island not more than four miles
in length and two in breadth, remarkable for its
fertility and beauty. Gwynn's Island contains
about two thousand acres of land, and at the time
of the Revolution it abounded in natural wealth—
in cattle, fruits, and vegetables, in good water, and
luxuriant verdure.

Dunmore came out from Hampton Roads with
his whole fleet, and after manœuvring for a time
to divert the attention of his vigilant enemies, he
sailed immediately for the island, and on the 24th
of May landed his force, and formed an entrenched
camp for their defence. He had with him at least
five hundred men, including the negroes who had
been seduced from their masters. Here he remained
more than a month, varying the monotony

of his life by occasional robberies committed on the
neighbouring plantations. He considered himself
secure from attack; his fleet was anchored around
the island, and protected by indentations of the
coast from the heavy gales which sometimes sweep
from the ocean up Chesapeake Bay. But as the
heats of summer gained strength, fevers began to
prey upon his men, increased, doubtless, in virulence
by their own profligate habits: many died,
and were hastily interred in hillocks of sand by the
water's side. Dunmore's courage was again ebbing
away, and a vigorous attack only was necessary
to drive him from his post.

This was soon accomplished. Annoyed by the
reflection that this degraded band should be suffered
so long to disturb the welfare of Virginia, the
Committee of Safety sent General Andrew Lewis
to endeavour to dislodge them. This brave officer
had already distinguished himself in his bloody
fight with the Indians at Point Pleasant, and he
eagerly accepted duty, which would array him in
battle against a commander whom he knew too
well to respect. On the 8th of July, at the head
of an efficient force, he reached a point opposite to
Gwynn's Island, and immediately threw up two
batteries—one mounting two eighteen-pounders,
and the other having several lighter guns. The
enemy's land forces were on a point of the island
nearly opposite to the American batteries, and protected
by a breastwork and stockade fort. Their
ships lay in the deep waters around. General
Lewis himself opened the engagement. He pointed

one of the eighteen-pounders at the Dunmore, which
lay in the stream five hundred yards off, and applied
the match: the ball passed directly through
her hull, doing much damage in its way; another
shot cut her boatswain in twain, and wounded three
other men; and the third, from a nine-pounder in
the second battery, beat in a heavy timber in her
quarter, and narrowly missed Lord Dunmore, who
was aboard. His body was wounded in several
places by the splinters, and some of his china was
dashed to pieces around him. In terrible fright,
his lordship was heard to cry out, "Good God, that
ever I should come to this?"[146] He seemed to think
his latter end was drawing nigh.

The fire was too hot to be endured. The Dunmore
cut her cables and hauled off amid a raking
storm of balls; the Otter, which was next to her,
received a shot between wind and water, and slipping
her cable, with difficulty made her escape.
The fleet was now in the greatest confusion, and
had the wind blown on shore, many of them would
have been captured; they escaped only by leaving
their anchors and making off in haste, followed by
discharges from the batteries, which did them heavy
damage. Meanwhile the land forces on the island
received due attention: their fire was soon silenced.
Several of their tents were stricken down by balls
from the lower battery under Captain Denny, and
nothing but want of boats prevented the patriots
from crossing over at once and attacking the encampment.

The next morning General Lewis prepared for
the assault. Having collected all the boats and
small craft in the neighbourhood, he planted two
brass cannon near a place known as Lower Windmill
Point, and trained them upon two English
tenders stationed there to oppose the crossing. The
fire was so severe that one of the vessels ran up a
small creek, and her crew left her and took to the
woods; the other got aground, and being boarded
by the Americans, many of her men were taken
prisoners. The patriots crossed to the island, and
found the enemy's camp deserted; not one was left
to resist; the land forces had taken refuge aboard
the ships, which were already standing up the bay.

A melancholy scene met the eyes of the victors.
The small-pox, and other malignant diseases, had
committed fierce ravages among the English while
at the island. Five hundred are supposed to have
died. One hundred and thirty graves were counted
from the encampment to Cherry Point, the northern
end of the isle. Corpses in a state of putrefaction
were strewed along the shore in half-dug trenches,
and with a few shovels-full of earth thrown over
them. Among the graves was one, carefully prepared
and covered with turf, in which the remains
of an English nobleman, Lord Gosport, were supposed
to rest. Some unhappy wretches had been
burned to death in brush huts in which they had
taken refuge; others were found on the shore gasping
for life, and bearing the hideous signs of the
disease which was destroying them. The hearts
of the patriots were moved to pity by these objects

of wo, and had they sought revenge, they would
have found enough to sate it in the misery of their
enemies. On their own part the loss was slight:
one man only was killed. This was Captain
Arundel, who was blown to pieces by the bursting
of a mortar of his own invention, from firing which
he had been in vain dissuaded by more experienced
officers.[147]

Driven from his late place of refuge, Dunmore
sailed up the Potomac River. The spirits of his
people were depressed by defeat and sickness, and
it may well be supposed that he was not himself in
buoyant hope. Yet his predatory excursions were
continued. Above Acquia Creek, in the county of
Stafford, he burned a beautiful edifice belonging to
Mr. William Brent, and the Stafford militia, although
sufficiently numerous to have opposed him,
retreated without striking a blow. But in a short
time, thirty brave men from Prince William arrived,
and by a vigorous charge drove the English
aboard their ships.[148] A momentary panic only
had seized on the men of Stafford, for no county in
Virginia furnished braver hearts for the subsequent
years of the Revolution. Harassed on every side,
distracted by the mutinies of his own followers,
seeing around him hundreds of men sick and dying
with the fevers of the season, the wretched Dunmore
was a victim of despair and mortification.
His hopes of conquering Virginia were gone, and
he was himself in imminent danger of being made
captive. He sailed with his fleet to Lynhaven

Bay, dismissed some of his ships to St. Augustine,
some to the Bermudas, and some to the West Indies.
He himself joined the naval force at New
York, and towards the close of the year, sailed in
the Fowey for England. He never returned to
Virginia. Of all her royal governors, the last may
be truly said to have been the worst. He had the
rapacity of Culpeper, without his polished bearing
—the cruel temper of Argal, without his courage—
and the revengeful spirit of Berkeley, with none of
his high sense of honour. It was meet that in the
person of such a man, kingly authority should expire
in the "Old Dominion."

The measures of Dunmore, and other English
agents, used to rouse the Indian tribes to hostility
against the Colonists, were not without effect. On
the borders of the two Carolinas, and of Virginia,
the Creeks and Cherokees commenced incursions,
and left traces of their course in havoc and bloodshed.
A general combination was formed against
them, and Colonel Christian, of Virginia, marched
at the head of a select body of rangers, and attacked
the Cherokees in their fastnesses. They were protected
by mountain passes, rugged paths through
their forests, by swamps and rivers, and they had
carried their cruelty so far as to burn at the stake
a white prisoner who had fallen into their hands.
But Christian overcame all obstacles, and fell suddenly
upon their towns, four of which were reduced
to ashes. The Cherokee chief, Oucanastota,
sued for peace, which was granted, on condition
that the savages should deliver up the prisoners,

cattle, and other prey they had taken, and should
also surrender fifteen hostages, who were to be annually
exchanged for such others as the State of
Virginia might require.[149] Having concluded this
important treaty, Colonel Christian and his brave
army returned to the east (October).

And now we may consider Virginia as fully involved
in the war of the Revolution. Her course
was no longer vacillating. She had sought to
avoid a position of direct hostility to the King of
Great Britain, and had asserted her loyalty even
when the sound of arms had been heard, and her
sons were preparing for the conflict. But now she
took the very front rank in the struggle, which was
to establish the independence of America. Blood
had already been shed upon her soil. Her armies
had marched to give battle to the enemy, and had
achieved victory upon several well-fought fields.
Her principal town had been desolated, and her exposed
places pillaged by the King's forces, under
the King's Governor, and she no longer held out
even the semblance of submission. But while she
was resisting with her soldiers the assaults made
from without, her statesmen were working a mighty
change within, which was destined to affect her
fate through all succeeding generations. Battles
may be fought, and victories won, without real
benefit to the nation for whom they are gained.
Macedonia was cursed by the triumph of her conquering
kings, and Rome was never in so much
danger of slavery, as when the leaders of her legions

were always victorious. It is when success
in arms is accompanied by wisdom and virtue in
the conduct of her civil interests, that a nation may
esteem her prosperity as founded on a rock.

There are two possessions without which no
people can have that amount of happiness to which
they are entitled by their natural rights: these are
a free civil constitution, and perfect religious liberty.
The mind that will review, without prejudice or
passion, the past history of the world, will be pained
to find how rarely either of these blessings has been
enjoyed by any nation, and how much more rarely
they have been found united. It may be asserted,
without hazard, that until the changes wrought by
the American Revolution, no country ever did possess
them in union, and hence the powerful effect
which this event produced, and is still working
among the older governments of earth. Even
among the boasted republics of antiquity, freedom
was rather nominal than real. The citizen of Rome
might to-day riot in the full enjoyment of his supposed
franchises, and might to-morrow be of the
number shut up to a bloody death under the decree
of a Marius or Sylla. The strongest arm
made right for the time, and the constitution of the
country was the sport of the favourites of fortune.
And though in those days religion was but a show,
it was not always an idle or bloodless one. Idolatry
may be as tyrannous as false Christianity: if
Athens willingly received the gods of other nations,
and added them to her own thirty thousand, she
yet resented every attempt to break the shackles of

her superstition; and had religions freedom been
known in Greece, Socrates would never have been
condemned to drink the juice of hemlock. To find
liberty, in any just sense, among the people of the
fifteen centuries succeeding the Christian era,
would be a hopeless task. Asia never knew it,
and Europe did not learn it until reflected light
came to her from America. Villeins cultivated
the soil, and even to this day, in some parts of
Austria and Russia, they are transferred from
father to son like beasts of the field; knights and
barons contended for the mastery, and sovereigns
often tottered on their thrones, but the freedom
then enjoyed was only that gained by the heaviest
gauntlet, or the deepest castle-moat. And the
purest of religions had been perverted into the most
revolting of tyrants, who pronounced decrees as by
divine authority, and enforced them with the sword
and the fagot. At the time of the American Revolution,
the harsher traits of European governments
were beginning to disappear, but enough
was left to remind men that they were not free.
Even in England, although her civil constitution
had become the subject of eulogy both at home
and abroad, reforms were needed which have not
yet been ended, and the unhallowed connexion between
Church and State deprived, and does still
deprive, man of his highest right—the free exercise
of his preferences in religion.

When Virginia was startled into action by the
tyranny of the mother country, her eye immediately
fell upon these two blessings, which she had never

fully enjoyed, and with intuitive eagerness she
seized the time and the means for securing them.
Upon these two points her whole subsequent history
will turn, and it will not be an immoderate
boast to declare that her conduct in gaining them
has entitled her to the gratitude of the civilized
world. Beyond doubt, her example has affected,
not merely each individual state of the American
Union, but the Union itself, in its federal character;
and once more it shall be written that she
was the cradle in which was rocked the infant of
human freedom. She contains but sixty-six thousand
square miles of land, a small territory, hardly
to be discerned on the face of the terrestrial globe;
but her principles are wide as the world, and powerful
as destiny. In order that we may clearly
mark each influence which was employed in conducting
her to these two great ends, we must retrace,
for a time, the course of her fortunes.

Under the rule of a despotic monarch, Virginia
had obtained her General Assembly; but she owed
this to the democracy of the London Company, and
not to the favour of the sovereign.[150] And though
the Burgesses were elected by the people, their
action was completely controlled by the Governor,
who held an unlimited veto power. This officer
was the creature of the King, was appointed by
him, and removed at his pleasure, and few were
the cases in which the Governor preferred the interest
of his people to the arbitrary will of his sovereign.
During the few years of the English Commonwealth,

Virginia had more internal liberty than
at any other part of the colonial period. She
elected her own governors; removed them when
they were refractory; made her own laws, and
levied her own taxes. This was a halcyon time,
which was not long to endure.

Not long after Charles the Second gained the
throne, the real effect of her dependence on the
mother country was made manifest in the Colony,
in a form of stern oppression. The Navigation
Laws have been already explained, and the course
of the Governor drove the people of Virginia into
premature rebellion. No relaxation of the policy
of England succeeded this unhappy outburst; the
grievances of the people continued unredressed
until the fatal line was passed, beyond which submission
was impossible. Yet, even after the Stamp
Act, few of the leading men of the Colony contemplated
independence; the prevalent feeling was
a desire for redress and reconciliation. It was hard
to drive Virginia from her loyalty; but, hard as it
was, her mother effected it, and the very moment
the thought of independence entered her mind, it
expanded into a vigour which swept every obstacle
before it.

The resolutions of Patrick Henry, adopted by
Virginia in 1765, were the earliest authorized expression
of American Independence. They did
not, indeed, declare a design to throw off the yoke
of England; but they stated principles which inevitably
tended to this result. To say that the
Colony would not submit to a claim advanced by

the Parliament and King, and enforced by laws,
was virtually to declare her freedom. Hence the
wondrous effect wrought by these resolutions; the
enthusiasm with which they were received by the
friends of liberty throughout all the Colonies, and
the strenuous opposition of Virginia statesmen, who
still loved the rule of the mother country. From
the time when these resolutions passed, there never
was the same feeling towards England which had
before prevailed. The charm was dissolved; the
mask had been torn away, and men who, one year
before, had shuddered with horror at the thought
of severing the ties which had so long united the
two countries, now contemplated such a result with
much greater complacency. Yet the approach to
open independence was gradual, and it is not easy
to trace the line beyond which both parties passed
before reconciliation was impossible. It is certain,
that early in the year 1775, no voice in Virginia
had openly proclaimed a wish to cast off all control
of the mother country. During that year we note,
from time to time, in the public prints, expressions
of correspondents which betray a growing feeling
of desire for a free government.[151] We have already
mentioned the remarkable sentiments of the military
convention at Fredericksburg, on the 29th
April, which breathe a spirit of freedom that could
not have been long suppressed.

Virginia will not suffer an unworthy emotion of
pride to urge her to deny the merits of a beloved
sister state. She will rather rejoice in the event

which has placed North Carolina upon an honoured
eminence, as the leader in the band of Colonies
which proclaimed for themselves a free government
in America. It is fit that "The Old North State,"
should be thus honoured, for in the Revolutionary
War, few members of the Union contributed more
to the common cause, in proportion to their means,
or bore with more heroic courage the ravages of
an insolent enemy. Beyond rational doubt, the
first written Declaration of Independence was made
in the County of Mecklenburgh, in North Carolina,
on the 20th day of May, 1775. Colonel Thomas
Polk called together the people, who, with simple
manners and Puritan principles, had brave hearts,
and a love of freedom, which rose superior to the
shackles of habit. They adopted a declaration pronouncing
their country independent of Great Britain,
and using terms so nearly similar to those afterwards
introduced into the celebrated instrument of
July 4, 1776, that some have suspected Mr. Jefferson
of having borrowed from the thoughts of the
Carolina patriots.[152] But surely it is not necessary
to detract from the glory of either author of either
instrument. The language of liberty has often
been the same, though coming from men who had
never communed with each other, and at least three
expressions in the Mecklenburgh paper may be
found, not merely in Mr. Jefferson's declaration,
but in other state papers, prepared during the years
1775 and '76.[153] The idea of independence had
gained strength in all minds, and words were not
wanting to express it.

In December of 1775, the Virginia Gazette contained
a letter from "a soldier," in which may be
found clear intimations of a design to assert independence.
"Our cruel enemies have forced us to
pass the Rubicon; we have begun the noble work,
and there is no retreating. The King of England
has proclaimed us rebels. The sword is drawn:
the scabbard must be thrown away: there is no
medium between a glorious defence and the most
abject slavery."[154] While such sentiments were
openly avowed, it will be apparent that the minds
of many were intent upon a complete rupture of
the ties which had bound them to Britain. While
the whole country was in a ferment of agitation
and united in few things, save in the design to
oppose even unto death the measures of England,
a pamphlet was published which produced a
powerful effect. This was the celebrated "Common
Sense," of Thomas Paine, in which, with
great strength of reasoning and pungency of appeal,
the Americans are exhorted to assert their
natural rights, and declare themselves a free and
independent people. Had Paine never written

any thing more objectionable than this work, his
name would not now be connected with all that is
odious in vice and irreligion. His pamphlet appeared
in Virginia, in February, 1776, and gave
an additional impetus to the cause of freedom.
Few could resist it longer: cherished prejudices
gave way: the dominion of Britain became hateful,
and the very thought of liberty was so delicious
that all were prone to encourage it. On the
19th of April, the Gazette contained a communication
which was rather the embodiment of popular
sentiment than the appeal of a single writer.[155] It
reviewed the late acts of Virginia; her assumption
of the law-making power; her war against the
Governor, and her military preparations, and then
in a tone of warm exhortation urged her to delay
no longer the call for independence. This appeal
was soon followed by decisive action.

Under these circumstances, the people of Virginia
were called upon to elect members to a Convention,
which, as they foresaw, was to be the most
important in its influence of any that had ever
assembled. The election was held during the
month of April, and at a time when the public
prints, and the speeches of public men, were alike
laden with the great theme of independence. The
very paper which contained the appeal just mentioned,
presented also the names of delegates from

some of the counties and boroughs of the Colony,[156]
and others had not yet been reported. It would
be unreasonable to suppose that the people were
not fully apprised of the state of their public
affairs, or that they did not elect their delegates to
take such steps as the crisis demanded.[157] The old
government had fallen in ruins; the Governor was
driven in disgrace from his palace; the Burgesses
had no longer any power, real or nominal; and
every convention that had assembled, had acted
not under the colonial constitution, but by the
paramount authority of the people. In fact, each
one of these bodies was revolutionary in its character;
the people finding their former government
intolerable, threw off its shackles, and chose members
of conventions, who made laws and adopted
other measures for the safety of the public.[158] And
if all prior conventions had been distinct from
and paramount to the ordinary legislature, much
more must we so regard this body now constituted
by the people when they were upon the
eve of erecting a new government on the ruins of
the old system. Let these facts be borne in mind,
as they apply with power to a question soon to be
considered.

On Monday the 6th of May, the Convention

assembled at Williamsburg. It contained many
brave hearts and bright minds. Some of the
counties in the west were represented by members
whose strong common sense was an ample substitute
for deep culture, but the eastern counties had
selected their greatest ornaments of wisdom and
patriotism, to meet the demands of the time.[159] Edmund
Pendleton was elected President, and in his
opening speech reminded them of the critical state
of their affairs: of the suspension of all the powers
of government, and of their duty to provide for
this emergency. Then the members turned with
serious eagerness to the questions before them, and
in nine days they prepared, approved, and sent
forth to the country a paper, which showed with
what subject their thoughts were chiefly occupied.

(May 15.) Their declaration recites that they
had used all proper efforts to obtain a peaceful redress
of their grievances, and to effect reunion and
reconciliation with England, on just and liberal
terms; that their efforts had produced nothing but
increased insult; that by a late Act of Parliament
the Colonies had been declared to be in rebellion,
and out of the protection of the British Crown;[160]
that their property had been confiscated; their
people forced to join in the murder of their own
friends and relatives; and that the King's Governor
was even then waging an inhuman warfare on their
coasts. Therefore, making a solemn appeal to the

Searcher of hearts for their sincerity, they resolve
that their representatives in Congress be instructed
to propose to that body to declare the United
Colonies free and independent States, and to give
their assent to any measures for forming a Confederation
of the Colonies for the defence and welfare
of the whole.[161]

Their next resolution was even more important.
By a unanimous vote they provided that a committee
should be appointed to prepare a declaration
of rights, and "Such a plan of government as will
be most likely to maintain peace and order in this
Colony, and secure substantial and equal liberty to
the people." Thus the Convention entered upon
the work, chiefly for which they believed themselves
to have been appointed, and if any proof had
been needed that the people sanctioned their course,
it might have been found in the enthusiasm with
which the resolutions were received. Every where
through the state joy manifested itself in open festivities.
In Williamsburg, military parades, the
firing of artillery, and illuminated houses, betokened
a national triumph. The "Flag of America,"
floated over the Capitol, and when it was first unfolded,
it was received with shouts by a crowd of
citizens drawn together by the interest of the occasion.[162] From the sea-coast to the extreme west,
Virginia seemed moved by a feeling of gratitude
for the present, and hope for the future.

Twenty-eight members formed the important

committee raised under the resolution of the 15th
May. We find in this body the ablest men in the
Colony selected, and charged with a delicate duty,
upon which depended the happiness of Virginia
for generations to come.[163] On the 12th of June the
"Bill of Rights" was reported to the Convention,
and after a brief debate, was unanimously adopted.
This well-known declaration still adorns the statute-book
of our state, and has the force of the highest
law.[164] In simple and perspicuous language, it announces
principles which, if steadily acted upon,
will secure rational liberty to any country. The
natural rights of man are first declared: all power
is said to be vested in the people, and magistrates
and rulers are merely their responsible trustees.
Hereditary emoluments and privileges are condemned;
the several branches of government are
distinguished; and it is said that law-makers and
law-enforcers should descend, from time to time,
among the common mass of society, that they may
feel their burdens, and sympathize in their calamities.
Trial by jury, in criminal cases, is guarantied;
excessive bail cannot be required, nor excessive
fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments
inflicted; the freedom of the press is guarded
from restraint; standing armies in time of peace
are declared dangerous, and the militia system is
commended for public defence; uniform government
is provided, and it is said that no government
separate from and independent of that of Virginia,
ought to be established within her limits.[165] The
final clause declares that religion can be directed
only by reason and conviction, not by force or violence,
and, therefore, all men are entitled to its free
exercise, according to the dictates of conscience.

After viewing this bold expression of free principles,
we are prepared for the system of government
that followed. Men, whose minds had opened to
take in the teachings of the "Bill of Rights," would
not hesitate to sever the last tie which bound them
to England, and to establish independent rule.
The Constitution intended for Virginia had
been drawn by George Mason, a member of the committee,
famed for his sound learning, his expanded
mental powers, his great strength in argument.
He was not a graceful orator, but he impressed his
hearers by his earnestness, and often entertained
them by his keen sarcasm.[166] Mr. Jefferson was in
Congress, but, looking with interest upon the progress
of his native state, he sent a draught of a form
of government, prepared by himself, which he
thought suited to the wants of Virginia. Mr.
Wythe received this draught after most of the features
of George Mason's plan had been approved;
but Mr. Jefferson's preamble did so forcibly commend
itself by its review of the grievances of America,

that it was adopted, and prefixed to the plan
finally received.[167] This preamble is nearly similar
in its enumeration of wrongs to that found in the
Declaration of Independence, and it would be difficult
to read the two without being convinced that
they were from the same pen.

On the 29th day of June, the New Constitution
was submitted to a final vote, and was unanimously
adopted by the Convention. Under this instrument
Virginia was governed for more than half a
century, and to detail with minuteness all its provisions,
would be an unnecessary task.[168]
The several
branches of government are first declared to be
separate and distinct, and then each is constituted.
The Legislature was composed of two parts: the
House of Delegates, consisting of two members
from each county, and one representative for
each city or borough; and the Senate, containing
twenty-four members, sent from the same number
of districts over the state. Rotation was provided
for the senators, by dividing them into four classes,
so that six members must be displaced at the end
of each year. The members of both Houses were
required to be freeholders, and they were to be
elected by voters qualified according to the laws
then in existence on this subject. This law of
suffrage, as we have heretofore seen, had been often
changed, according to the spirit of the age;[169] but it
was now regarded as fixed, and the right was confined

to men owning a freehold estate, in one hundred
acres of unimproved, or twenty-five acres of
improved land, or in a house and lot in some town.[170]
The concurrence of both Houses was necessary to
the passage of a law; all bills originated in the
House of Delegates, but might be altered by the
Senate with the assent of the House. But money
bills must in no case be altered by the Senate, but
always either rejected or approved.

A Governor was to be chosen annually, and was
not to be eligible more than three years successively,
nor, after going out of office, was he to be chosen
again until four years should have expired. He
had no voice in making laws, nor was he to exercise
any power or prerogative by virtue of any
statute or ordinance of England. He was to be
aided in his duties by a Privy Council of eight
members, to be chosen by the Assembly, and who
were, from their own number, to choose a President,
who, in the absence of the Governor, was to
act as Lieutenant-Governor. The Governor and
Councillors were liable to impeachment by the
House of Delegates, for offences against the state,
and in such case they were to be prosecuted by the
Attorney-General, and tried by the General Court.

Judges of the Supreme Court of Appeals, and of

the General Court were to be elected by joint ballot
of both Houses of the Assembly. They were to
continue in office during good behaviour, and were
to have fixed and adequate salaries, and they, together
with other men holding lucrative offices, and
all ministers of the Gospel, were to be incapable of
being elected members of the Legislature. Justices
of the Peace for the County Courts, were to
be appointed by the Governor, with the advice of
the Privy Council.[171]

With design to close for ever a source of dangerous
dispute, this constitution generously confirmed
to the Colonies of Maryland, Pennsylvania,
North and South Carolina, the territories claimed
by them under their respective charters, but with
these exceptions, the claim of Virginia was fully
asserted to all the lands held and defined under the
Charter of King James, in 1609,[172]
and the Peace of
Paris, in 1763. And it was declared that no purchases
of land from Indians should be valid, unless
made for the public, and by authority of the General
Assembly.

And finally, in order to set the machinery of the
new government in motion, it was provided, that
the Convention should immediately choose a Governor
and Privy Council, and such other officers
as might be necessary. Without delay the votes
were taken, and we are not surprised to find Patrick
Henry made the first free Governor of Virginia.
Edmund Randolph was elected Attorney-General;

eight Councillors of State, five Commissioners
of Admiralty, and two Commissioners for
Accounts, were duly chosen.[173]

Thus was the Old Dominion snatched by her
own sons from the grasp of Britain, and erected
into a free and independent state. She has the
honour of being the first of the American Colonies
that totally discarded the rule of the mother country;
for though South Carolina and New Hampshire
had adopted constitutions, they were expressly
declared to be temporary, and intended
only to endure until the difficulties with Britain
were settled.[174] How different from this temporizing
policy was the blow which at once severed the
chains of English dominion, and threw them from
the arms of her dependant to be felt no more!

This Constitution had been prepared with some
haste, and it is not singular that it should have had
defects and vices. Our surprise should be that it
should have accomplished its purposes so well,
rather than that it should have exhibited imperfection.
And though during its continuance, many
voices were raised against it, and many fingers
pointed to its deformities, yet it is believed that its
greatest evils existed in theory rather than in practice.
These evils may be briefly declared: although
the Constitution pronounced the several
branches of government distinct, yet under its provisions
it seems evident, that both the Executive
and the Judiciary were dependent on the Legislature.

For to the Assembly belonged the power,
not merely of electing Governor, Council, and
Judges, but of providing for their subsistence while
in office, and under such circumstances it was not
probable, that any act of legislation, however unconstitutional,
would be resisted by the Executive,
or declared void by the Courts.[175] Next, it will be
perceived, that each House was left to fix its own
quorum, or in other words, to decide how few of its
members might bind the whole State, by making
law. The danger of this must be obvious, for if
the law-making power might rest with a small
number, to be decided on by themselves, the temptation
to diminish the number would be strong.
From forty, the number might be reduced to four;
from four to one, and thus despotism would have
been established.[176] But the feature of the Constitution
to which most censure has been applied, was
the narrow right of suffrage. To require that all
voters should be freeholders, excluded a number of
men full of intelligence and patriotism, and liable
to be called on to fight the battles of their country
in time of war.[177] This restriction was a source of
constant uneasiness until the new Constitution was
adopted in 1830; but whether the right of suffrage
in Virginia, as it now exists, be preferable to the
former system, is matter of extreme doubt to reflecting
minds.

Another objection, afterwards strongly urged,
arose rather from the circumstances under which
the Constitution was formed, than from its intrinsic
character. It was contended that this instrument
was not paramount to the authority of the Legislature,
and that it might at any time be changed by
an act of Assembly.[178] Those who held this opinion,
supported it by arguing that the Convention which
formed the plan of government, had not been regularly
empowered so to do by the people—that
this body could not bind subsequent Legislatures
—that all it had done, was to provide a suitable
scheme for the emergency under which the State
was then placed, and that the people had never in
solemn form ratified and adopted the Constitution.
But on the other hand it was urged, that the attention
of the people had been particularly and earnestly
called to the circumstances under which
members of the Convention were chosen—that the
old government had fallen in ruins—that a new
government was indispensable—that the Convention
was in its very nature, different from, and paramount
to, an ordinary legislative Assembly—
that its action in recommending independence, and
in providing a committee to frame a constitution,
had been received with enthusiasm by the people
—that six weeks passed between the appointment
of this committee and its final report, and yet not

one voice of dissent was heard from the country,
and that the Legislature being itself the creature
of the Constitution, was subordinate to it, and was
bound by its requirements.

The power of these last-noted arguments was recognised
by Virginia. Her Constitution remained
in force until it was regularly remodelled by a
convention chosen for the purpose by the people,
and her General Court, by a sound judicial decision,
declared that this instrument was supreme, and
that an act of Assembly running counter to its
demands, was void and of no effect.[179]

And whatever may have been the defects of her
form of government, one of the grand objects for
which it was intended was accomplished. Virginia
was free from all foreign control. The
dominion of Great Britain was totally destroyed.
No royal governors were hereafter to be sent to
obey a selfish monarch, or to reflect the views of
an unscrupulous ministry, or to pillage on their
own account, the people of their charge. No veto
power was to be exercised by a distant king. No
laws of navigation were to fetter her commerce and
force it by unnatural means into the lap of her
mother. No taxes were to be imposed to swell the
revenues of an establishment three thousand miles
from her shores. And the personal rights of her
people were secured. England had often claimed
the power to seize her Colonists and transport them
for trial to her own soil, but the "Bill of Rights"

of Virginia, at once placed each one of her citizens
upon a firm basis, and threw around him the safeguards
of law.

Civil freedom was rendered absolutely secure in
the "Old Dominion." But there remained another
possession necessary to her happiness which
she had not yet obtained; this was Religious Liberty.
Her declaration of rights did indeed announce
principles on this subject, which, if expanded,
would have produced all she could desire, but the
force of positive law was necessary to cut up by
the roots the system which had grown in such
strength on her soil. The church establishment,
with its legal incidents, had so woven itself into
society, that it was difficult at once to destroy it.
The rights of conscience were yet invaded, and
men were still liable to injury, who did not conform
to the teachings of one favoured sect. We shall
see with pleasure these evils removed, and all men
placed upon equal ground in their religious relations.
But in entering on this subject, it will be
necessary to review the progress of religion in Virginia,
and to trace the steps along which she passed
in effecting this great object. If well ascertained
facts, and legitimate inferences may be trusted, it
will be made apparent, that for perfect freedom in
the exercise of the rights of conscience, the people
of Virginia, and of America, are indebted neither
to Thomas Jefferson, nor to any other secular reformer,
but to men in whose hearts burned the fire
of love to the Redeemer of mankind.