The Road to Monticello

by Hayes, Kevin J. ;

  A heavy hand: choosing this proverbial metaphor. Jefferson again conflated his motifs of weightiness and the body and thus used forceful imagery to reiterate his argument. Images of the hand had occurred frequently in earlier American literature. Think of Captain John Smith’s Map of Virginia, which opens with a dedication “To the Hand.” Or recall a saying of Poor Richard’s from The Way to Wealth: “Help hands, for I have no Lands.”26 In early American discourse, the hand had become an important symbol of American self-sufficiency. Here, Jefferson ironically reversed the traditional American imagery to make the hand a symbol of oppression. Shifting the image of the hand to the British, Jefferson indicated the powerlessness of the colonial legislatures to effect change, an idea he reinforced with an image of dismemberment. The dissolution of one or more colonial legislatures by the crown he called “the lopping off [of] one or more of their branches.”27 When the British engage in this kind of figurative dismemberment, the colonial citizenry has no choice but, so to speak, to take matters into their own hands.

  In his conclusion, Jefferson returned to images of the heavy hand and of dismemberment but only to reject them: “The god who gave us life, gave us liberty at the same time: the hand of force may destroy, but cannot disjoin them.”28 Life and liberty are of one body. One cannot be separated from the other without destruction to the whole.

  Jefferson intended to present A Summary View before the Virginia Convention. Accompanied by Jupiter, he left Monticello on his way to Williamsburg only to be struck down by a case of dysentery severe enough to turn him back. Though forced to return home, he sent his slave ahead to Williamsburg. So Jupiter, it seems, was responsible for carrying Jefferson’s message of natural rights to Williamsburg and giving copies to two of the most prominent delegates at the Virginia convention, Patrick Henry and Peyton Randolph.29 Presenting copies to these two men in particular, Jefferson displayed his political savvy. Patrick Henry would be able to articulate Jefferson’s ideas at the convention, and Randolph, as Jefferson correctly predicted, would be elected chair. What happened to Henry’s copy of Jefferson’s work is a mystery. Jefferson conjectured, “Mr. Henry probably thought it too bold, as a first measure.”30 Randolph’s copy caused quite a stir when it reached Williamsburg.

  Once delivered to Peyton Randolph, Jefferson’s manuscript was read privately to a large gathering of people at Randolph’s Williamsburg home. For those present that evening, its reading was an event to remember. Edmund Randolph, Peyton’s nephew, recalled the applause that accompanied the work when it was read aloud at his uncle’s home. Everyone gathered there recognized that Jefferson had gone much further than anyone before him had dared to go. “The young ascended with Mr. Jefferson to the source of those rights,” Edmund Randolph recalled, but “the old required time for consideration before they could tread this lofty ground, which, if it had not been abandoned, at least had not been fully occupied throughout America.”31 Despite the enthusiasm with which it was received by those gathered at Peyton Randolph’s home, the Virginia Convention did not approve the resolution. Reflecting on A Summary View many years later, Jefferson understood why the Convention acted as it did: “Tamer sentiments were preferred, and I believe, wisely preferred; the leap I proposed being too long as yet for the mass of our citizens.”32

  Though the Virginia Convention had not approved this resolution, Jefferson’s greatest supporters realized that, in a way, they could circumvent the decision of the Convention by putting his words in print and thus giving them a wider currency. Several Virginia patriots subscribed to the publication of A Summary View. Jefferson’s supporters gave the work its title and supplied a Latin motto from Cicero’s De Officiis, which can be translated, “It is the indispensable duty of the supreme magistrate to consider himself as acting for the whole community, and obliged to support its dignity, and assign to the people, with justice, their various rights, as he would be faithful to the great trust reposed in him.”

  In addition, one of the subscribers drafted a short preface to the work, which emphasized its political and philosophical value. In A Summary View, the preface explains, “The sources of our present unhappy differences are traced with such faithful accuracy, and the opinions entertained by every free American expressed with such manly firmness, that it must be pleasing to the present, and may be useful to future ages.” The subscribers shrewdly preserved Jefferson’s anonymity, but the preface did assert that it had been written by one of the “best and wisest” members of the House of Burgesses. Jefferson’s authorship of A Summary View became widely known.

  With the title, motto, and preface added, the subscribers gave Jefferson’s manuscript to Clementina Rind, who had taken over the family printing business after her husband’s death the previous year. She had continued to publish the newspaper her husband founded, and she had issued a number of other works, too. Now she undertook the task of publishing the first edition of A Summary View of the Rights of British America. It would be her most distinguished imprint.

  Once A Summary View was published, it largely ceased to matter whether the Virginia Convention had approved the work. In printed form, Jefferson’s words transcended matters of legislative decision. Virginia delegates to the First Continental Congress brought copies of the pamphlet with them to Philadelphia, where A Summary View was reprinted. Though no contemporary American reprintings survive beyond the Williamsburg and Philadelphia editions, external evidence indicates that A Summary View was reprinted in Boston, New York, and Norfolk. Copies of one or more of the American editions reached England before year’s end. Sending a copy of the Philadelphia edition to Benjamin Franklin, then in London, a sympathetic correspondent wrote, “If you have not seen it, I believe it will please you.”33 The pamphlet was reprinted in London multiple times. A Summary View fully established Jefferson’s reputation as both an author and a patriot.

  CHAPTER 12

  The Pen and the Tomahawk

  As the mild winter came to a close in March 1775—“the most favorable winter ever known in the memory of man,” Jefferson called it—men from all parts of Virginia began wending their way toward Richmond, where they would gather at St. John’s Church for the second Virginia Convention, rather than at Williamsburg. As the colonial capital, Williamsburg was becoming increasingly uncomfortable for local citizens who were challenging the British administration. Delegates to the Virginia Convention had been elected by voters across the colony from the counties or corporations where they made their homes. This group of over a hundred men included nearly all of Virginia’s foremost leaders. Some, like Peyton Randolph, were old hands at Virginia governance, while others were fairly green. Their youth fueled their enthusiasm and their ardor.

  The convention began on Monday, March 20, when the delegates began discussing the dire situation the American colonies faced. By Thursday, the debate had reached a fevered pitch. When it came to a resolution stipulating that the Virginia colonists arm themselves in their own defense, one voice rose above the rest, that of Patrick Henry. When it came to logically justifying such a bold resolution, another voice took its turn, that of Thomas Jefferson. And, when it came to the matter of making this resolution practical, Jefferson was ready, pen in hand, to draft a report.

  Furor resulted when Patrick Henry moved a resolution to establish a militia to defend Virginia. Since William Wirt first published his reconstruction of the famous speech in his Life of Patrick Henry, Henry’s speech has become a part of the popular culture. Many know his famous words by heart. Few can resist repeating them:

  Gentlemen may cry, peace, peace—but there is no peace! The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God!—I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty, or giv
e me death!

  All were impressed with Henry’s speech, but not all were persuaded. Jefferson, firmly convinced of the justness of their cause before Henry took the floor, rose to speak. The fact that Jefferson addressed this large gathering indicates both his seriousness and his dedication to the cause of liberty: natural shyness generally dissuaded him from addressing large crowds save for matters of extreme gravity. On this occasion, he spoke his mind, arguing “closely, profoundly, and warmly.”1 A well-regulated militia, he explained, would provide the only way to secure a free government. A local militia would obviate the need for a standing army to defend the colony and therefore would eliminate the need for taxes to support one. The combination of Henry’s eloquence and Jefferson’s logic prompted a majority of the delegates to consent to the resolution. Through their actions, they put Virginia on the defensive.

  To make these resolutions a reality, a committee was formed to work out the details. The committee, which included Henry, Jefferson, and the greatest military mind in the colonies, George Washington, prepared a report and presented it before the convention on Saturday. Having demonstrated his literary skill the year before with A Summary View of the Rights of British America, Jefferson took primary responsibility for drafting this document. What resulted, the “Report of Committee to Prepare a Plan for a Militia,” offers a vivid picture of the colonial militia at the start of the Revolutionary War.

  This report stipulates that each company of infantry should consist of sixty-eight soldiers commanded by one captain, two lieutenants, one ensign, four sergeants, and four corporals. The drummer for each company would be furnished with a drum and colors. The committee’s report urges all soldiers to “endeavor as soon as possible to become acquainted with the military exercise for infantry appointed to be used by his majesty in the year 1764.”2 Prepared by British Adjutant-General Edward Harvey, The Manual Exercise as Ordered by His Majesty in 1764 set forth the proper methods of infantry drill and tactics. This same work was already in use by local militia companies throughout Revolutionary America. During the mid-1770s, new editions of Manual Exercise were reprinted up and down the East Coast as militia companies in each colony mobilized themselves for war.

  The committee report also stipulates how militiamen should be clothed and armed. Every man would be “provided with a good Rifle if to be had, or otherwise with a common firelock, bayonet and cartouch box; and also with a tomahawk, one pound of gunpowder, and four pounds of ball at least fitted to the bore of his gun.” In addition, he should be clothed in “a hunting shirt by way of uniform.”3 A homemade garment, the hunting shirt was a loose frock that reached halfway down the thighs. Instead of being buttoned or fastened in any other way, the shirt was open in front, but the front flaps overlapped by about a foot and were held together with a belt.

  This choice of weaponry and uniform was largely based on what was available locally. The preceding year the First Continental Congress had agreed to an association similar to the Virginia associations of earlier years. Like the others, this new association forbade colonists from importing most goods of British manufacture. Consequently, Virginia militiamen would be outfitted in uniquely American fashion. The hunting shirt had long been an article of clothing identified with backwoodsmen, those unsavory and uncivilized characters who inhabited the fringes of colonial society, somewhere in that middle ground between the westernmost plantations and the wilderness. It now became the uniform of a patriot. In the story of the transformation of the backwoodsman into the frontiersman—lout into hero—the Revolutionary soldier plays a conspicuous part. The tomahawk became a useful sidearm for American troops in close combat. Carrying one into battle, the American soldier took on a Native American characteristic. What began as an indigenous weapon became an emblem and implement of American freedom.

  An important order of business on Saturday involved electing delegates to represent Virginia in the Second Continental Congress, which was scheduled to convene in Philadelphia the second week of May. The Virginia Convention chose seven Congressional delegates. In descending order of votes received, those elected were Peyton Randolph, George Washington, Patrick Henry, Richard Henry Lee, Edmund Pendleton, Benjamin Harrison, and Richard Bland. The consensus was clear: the first received 107 votes, and the seventh received ninety. The man in eighth place received only eighteen votes: Thomas Jefferson. On the last day of the second Virginia Convention, Jefferson was designated as an alternate to the Second Continental Congress in case Peyton Randolph would be unable to fulfill his responsibilities as a delegate.4

  Once the second Virginia Convention drew to a close the last days of March, it was not long before the colonists’ decision to arm themselves proved to be the right one. Massachusetts had made a similar decision, and members of their militia—the Minutemen—were called into action the following month. Early Wednesday morning, April 19, under orders from General Thomas Gage, about eight hundred British soldiers marched on Concord, where the colonists had a large cache of guns and ammunition. Having been warned by Paul Revere and others, the Minutemen were ready. They assembled at Lexington to try to stop the British advance. Ordered to disperse by the British commander, the Americans refused. The British fired upon them, killing eight and forcing the remainder to retreat toward Concord. The Minutemen, altogether about one-quarter the size of the British force, established a new position on the farther side of the Old North Bridge over the Concord River. This time they successfully resisted the advancing troops and humiliated the British, forcing them to retreat to Boston and harassing them as they went.

  The figurative gale from the north Patrick Henry had predicted in his famous speech was not long in coming. News of the Battle of Lexington and Concord reached Virginia quickly, before the month was out. Jefferson later referred to the mood of the country after Lexington and Concord as both a “state of excitement” and a “state of exasperation.” Upon learning of the battle, he told a British correspondent: “Within this week we have received the unhappy news of an action of considerable magnitude between the king’s troops and our brethren of Boston … This accident has cut off our last hopes of reconciliation, and a phrenzy of revenge seems to have seized all ranks of people.”5

  Attacked on their own soil, Americans have little patience for diplomacy. The time it took for intelligence to cross the ocean meant that news of an important effort toward reconciliation made by the British prior to the Battle of Lexington and Concord did not reach the American strand until after the battle. In February, Lord North had proposed that any colony agreeing to support the costs of the administration and defense of the colonies would not be burdened with any additional taxes. The House of Commons approved it, and copies of Lord North’s conciliatory proposal, as it came to be known, were sent to the colonial governors to present to their respective assemblies.

  To present Lord North’s proposal, Governor Dunmore called an Assembly. The Virginia delegates to the Continental Congress had already left for Philadelphia, but Peyton Randolph, as Speaker of the House of Burgesses, hurried back to Williamsburg to preside over the Assembly. With Randolph in Williamsburg, Jefferson, as alternate Congressional delegate, had the responsibility to go to Philadelphia instead. Recognizing the importance of Lord North’s proposal, he delayed his departure to hear Governor Dunmore present it to the Assembly.

  Appointed to the committee formed to respond to North’s proposal, Jefferson took primary responsibility for drafting an answer. Upon completing his draft, he met with opposition from one committee member, Robert Carter Nicholas. In Jefferson’s words, Carter “combated the answer from alpha to omega, and succeeded in diluting it in one or two small instances.”6 Despite Carter’s critiques, the committee largely accepted what Jefferson had written.

  “Virginia Resolutions on Lord North’s Conciliatory Proposal” masterfully refutes this misguided attempt at reconciliation on the part of the British. Jefferson’s resolutions bristle with memorable phrases. The document begins by expressing gra
titude toward the British for their willingness to solve the colonial crisis but otherwise minces few words. Before the first paragraph is out, this set of resolutions explains that Virginia refused the proposal: “With pain and disappointment we must ultimately declare it only changes the form of oppression, without lightening its burthen.” Eight similarly structured paragraphs delineate the inadequacy of North’s proposal. Parliament had no right to meddle with the support of civil government in colonial America. Or, as Jefferson put it, “For us, not for them, has government been instituted here.”7

  North’s proposal provided a colonial tax exemption only by burdening the colonies with a perpetual tax. Furthermore, North solely addressed the matter of taxes; he did not reconcile other grievances the colonies had against Great Britain such as the standing army and violations of free trade. Also, the proposal was directed toward each colony individually. Either North was deliberately seeking to divide the American colonies or he failed to understand how unified they were becoming. Speaking for all Virginians, Jefferson wrote, “We consider ourselves as bound in Honor as well as Interest to share one general Fate with our Sister Colonies, and should hold ourselves base Deserters of that Union, to which we have acceded, were we to agree on any Measures distinct and apart from them.”8

  Anxious to join the Continental Congress, Jefferson did not linger in Virginia after completing the resolutions rejecting North’s proposal. On Sunday, June 11, he left Williamsburg for Philadelphia. This trip likely evoked feelings of melancholy on his part. It had been nine years since his first and only previous trip to Philadelphia. His world had since changed much. Then, he had recently passed his bar exam and was looking forward to the start of his career as a lawyer before the General Court of Virginia. Now, he had retired from the practice of law and turned his entire practice over to Edmund Randolph. Then, the rent in the colonial fabric caused by the Stamp Act was being mended with that Act’s repeal. Now, the only way for the American colonists to solve their differences with Great Britain was to tear away from it completely. Doing that meant war.