Empire (24 page)

While most of the House chuckled at the Speaker’s remarks, and some voices exclaimed, “Hear! Hear!” Patrick Henry glanced briefly up at Hugh Kenrick. Hugh girded himself to rise, but was beaten to recognition by Richard Bland.

“I am obliged to my colleague,” said Bland with a bow to the Speaker, “for complimenting me with his remembrance. And I will support his sentiment by adding only that this matter ought not to be made a vehicle for Phocensian despair.” He bowed again before he resumed his seat, this time to Randolph for the opportunity to speak again so soon.

Edgar Cullis’s face wrinkled in confusion. “What did he say?” he wondered out loud to Hugh.

But Hugh did not hear his colleague’s query. He was standing before Cullis had uttered the first word.

Peyton Randolph saw that the burgess for Queen Anne had risen even as others were still rising. He did not quite disguise a grimace, but nodded in recognition. He committed precedent, though, and allowed himself a sardonic comment. “Ah, Mr. Kenrick. Doubtless you are about to correct our learned colleague’s antiquitish lore.”

The House laughed. Even Cullis permitted himself a chuckle.

Hugh replied, “No, sir. I would not presume to offend Colonel Bland’s wisdom with correction, but merely annotate his remark to say that when the men of Phocis ploughed the field of Delphi, it was neither Apollo nor his oracles who declared war on them, but their superstitious neighbors. The men of Phocis despaired of defending themselves against the invaders,” he said for the House’s edification, “and rather than be conquered and punished by them, built a funeral pyre for themselves and their families. But, before it could be lit, and as the invaders approached, those same men, because they wished to live, instead marched out in desperation and defeated their enemies.”

Hugh turned and addressed Bland. “It may be presumed that an oracle of reason told them to plough the field, and also to fight one last time for
their liberty. You may correct
me
, sir, but did not that incident occur during one of the Sacred Wars?”

This was not the reply that anyone in the House expected to hear. The Attorney-General gaped with an open mouth, which soon snapped shut, while Colonel Bland blinked in surprise. That man rose, nodded in reluctant concession, then resumed his seat. Patrick Henry turned his head to smile up at Hugh in his own admiring astonishment.

Hugh continued, “But this particular foray into antiquity was not how I wished to open my remarks, although I will say that I hope that, given the subject of our discussion, we will not find ourselves some day in a state of Phocensian despair. My purpose is to comply with Mr. Robinson’s caution, and present for this House’s consideration some
facts
about the Stamp Act.”

He stood tall and straight, with his head held high. He spoke without notes, without fear, without care. He had promised Henry that he would present the slag of particulars to the House, and he proceeded to seduce that body with them, even those in it who did not wish to hear them.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “we are faced with a conundrum over the veracity of our colleagues in faraway Westminster. What label shall we append to their words, actions, and designs: Attic faith, or Punic faith? How shall we unravel the riddle, and what will it reveal to us when we construe the puzzle it contains? And, having done that, what should we do about it?

“Sirs, a man’s powers of persuasion rest not solely in his eloquence, but in how successful his style orders the facts he presents. I ask you, therefore, not to judge my eloquence, but the facts.

“Let us proceed to those facts, and scan some simple arithmetic. It is claimed by the authors and proponents of the Stamp Act, a copy of which is now in the custody of this House, that from these colonies, the levies enumerated in that act will raise some one hundred thousand pounds per annum. It is not denied by these gentlemen that the tax is an internal one, nor that it has been one long in contemplation. They make no distinction between that tax, taxes on our exports and imports, and any passed by this or any other colonial assembly. Nor should we, but that is another matter to be taken up, in future. We are assured by these gentlemen, the authors of this act, that the revenue raised by this new tax — a tax that may be paid in sterling
only
, let me stress that aspect, neither in kind nor in our own notes, but in rare sterling — that the revenue will remain in the colonies to
defray the cost of the army here.

“Well, sirs, here is an instance of Punic faith! Britain may rightly abhor a standing army. Britain, so close to her regular enemies France, Spain, and the Netherlands, can exist in security and confidence without the burden and imposition of a standing army! We colonies, however, are spared that abhorrence, even though our close enemies to the west are less a threat to us than a single French privateer! Why are we to be relieved of that just fear? Well, you have all read the Proclamation of two years past. Allow me to read to you the reasons behind that qualification, that ominous exception, written by eminences in London who lay claim to being
friends
of these colonies.”

Hugh paused to take from his coat pocket a sheet of paper. “Here is what a person in the train of Lord Shelburne wrote in his recommendations of policy: ‘The provinces now being surrounded by an army, a navy, and by hostile tribes of Indians, it may be time, not to oppress or injure them, but to exact a
due deference
to the just and equitable demands of a British Parliament.’” Hugh paused to read another page. “And here is what an agent for Georgia wrote in recommendation: ‘Troops and fortifications will be very necessary for Great Britain to keep up in her colonies, if she intends to settle their dependency on her.’”

Hugh paused to return the papers to his pocket. “It is such recommendations that influenced the wording and intent of the Proclamation, sirs. I trust I needn’t repeat the encircling particulars of that document. The records of the Board of Trade, of the Privy Council, of the Secretary of State are rife with such recommendations, written, for the most part, by subministers and undersecretaries.”

Peyton Randolph, not a little astounded by this information, raised a hand and remarked, “You are something of a magician, sir. How did you come by those damning citations? And who were the authors?”

“I cannot divulge that information, sir, without compromising their source. But you may take those citations to be authentic. You have my word on that.”

“Doubtless, your purloining friend in the Commons,” said Randolph.

Hugh smiled in wicked challenge. “One who is a member, and one who is not. You will recall that my colleagues in London are close to the Duke of Richmond and other worthies.” He was not concerned about Randolph’s suspicions. There were nearly five hundred and sixty members in the Commons, and innumerable officials and functionaries. “May I continue?”

Randolph conceded defeat and waved a hand.

“What,” continued Hugh, “is the estimated cost of our standing army? Mr. Grenville asserts four hundred thousand pounds per annum. Where will the balance of that estimate come from, other than from the projected one hundred thousand raised by this stamp? In the best conjecture, from here, from there, but mostly from
us
, by way of all the duties we pay on manufactures and necessities brought into these colonies. Parliamentary trade estimates show that these colonies provide the Crown with a revenue of two millions per annum. That number represents not only our purchases, but all duties, indirect excises, and other charges and levies paid by us. What assurances have we that neither the army nor its subsidy here will not grow?” Hugh paused, and said, after the chamber was quiet, “
None
.”

Hugh reached into another pocket and took out another sheet of paper. “More arithmetic, sirs. Not all of you have had the opportunity to peruse the tome of taxation now resting on the Clerk’s table. I now read to you some of the new costs to you and your fellow Virginians, when this statute becomes active law — when the trigger is pressed on November first.” He read off many of the stamp duties he had read in Reece Vishonn’s study weeks ago. When he was finished, he folded the paper and returned it to his pocket.

“Paltry sums, to be sure, you may be thinking — paltry to His Majesty, who thinks nothing of spending one hundred thousand pounds to guarantee his party’s election to the Commons, or to purchase a party there after an election.” Some hisses came from across the chamber, together with some muttering among the “old guard.” Hugh said, “Paltry sums, sirs, but are
we
so prosperous and solvent that we can pay them? If the Crown will not accept our notes, even after discounting, or Spanish or French silver, with what can we pay these duties? With our credit? We have all but exhausted our credit with the mother country and the merchants there. If new credit is to be granted us, on what terms?”

Patrick Henry smiled to himself. Peyton Randolph looked fascinated, in spite of his dislike for the speaker. George Wythe looked thoughtful.

Hugh went on. “So much for the arithmetic, gentlemen,” he said, knowing that he had a captive audience. “On to the
budget
of our liberty, and to what lies ahead for us if we submit
humbly
to the authority of this statute.

“Firstly, we will have conceded to Parliament the right and power to levy this tax, a tax contrived and imposed in careless violation of precedent,
legality, and our liberties. This tax, sirs, if admitted and tolerated by us, will surely serve as an overture to other taxes and other powers. And, having granted Parliament that power
in absentia
— a power to raise a revenue from us, which was never the object of any of the navigation and commercial laws, burdensome and arbitrary in themselves — we will also have invited Parliament to render
this
body, and all colonial legislatures, redundant and superfluous! What would be the consequence of that negligence? That we would have representation neither here nor in Parliament! The very purpose and function of this assembly will have been obviated! This chamber, though occupied by men, would become a shell, a mockery! Think ahead, gentlemen. What would then prevent Parliament or the Board of Trade or the Privy Council from concluding that a costly assembly of voiceless and powerless burgesses should be forever dissolved? What would prevent the sages of Westminster from replacing a governor with a
lord-lieutenant
?”

Hugh paused again to plant clenched fists on his hips. “Ah, sirs! Here is more arrogance in the offing! A lord-lieutenant, he says. What impudence! Impossible! Our charters grant us the right to governors, dependent on our assemblies for their pay! Well, sirs, there is talk in the dank closets of Westminster of revising the charters of all the colonies, in order to exact a ‘due deference’ from them! A lord-lieutenant, may I remind you gentlemen, has neither an assembly to address, nor one to answer to. Such a false ‘governor’ would not be dependent on the benefices of an elected assembly, but would be paid directly by the Crown from our stamped pockets and purses, to ensure enforcement of Crown law! And, here is another — Sir! I am not finished!” exclaimed Hugh, pointing a finger at George Wythe, who had risen in an obviously agitated state.

Peyton Randolph glanced at Wythe, whose face was flushed red and whose hands shook in rage. Randolph shook his head once at the man. Wythe, glaring at Hugh, slowly sank back on the bench.

Hugh nodded thanks to Randolph, and continued. “And here is another ominous provision of this Stamp Act, sirs. In any case concerning violation of it, a prosecutor may choose between the venues of a jury court, and a juryless admiralty court in which to try a defendant. I leave to your imaginations, sirs, to think of which court would regularly find defendants so charged at fault, and promote the careers of interested informants and Crown officers.

“What would we be left with, sirs? Nothing that we had ever prided
ourselves in. We would become captives of the Crown, paying, toiling captives in a vast Bridewell prison! The one thing will follow the other, as surely as innocuous streams feed great rivers. Mr. Grenville is first minister now. Who will follow him? Another minister with his own notion of ‘due deference’? I shall paraphrase something I heard uttered not long ago,” said Hugh, turning to glance at Jack Frake among the spectators. “It should matter little to us whether this law and the Proclamation are a consequence of premeditated policy, or of divers coincidences, when the same logical end is our
slavery
.”

The chamber was quiet enough that Hugh heard a burgess across the floor mutter a word.

“‘
Traitor
,’ did you say, sir?” he asked, addressing the man whose half-closed, contemptuous eyes he noted. He took another sheet of paper from his coat. “Allow me to read to you the words of another ‘traitor,’” he said with anger, “words on which I had planned to end my remarks, but which ought to shame you for having pronounced your one.” He brought up the paper and read from it. “‘The people who are the descendents of those, who were forced to submit to the yoke of a government by constraint, have always the right to shake it off, and free themselves from the usurpation, or tyranny, which the sword hath brought in upon them, till their rulers put them under such a frame of government, as they willingly, and of choice consent to.’” Hugh glowered at the man. “That, sir, was Mr. John Locke, to whom we all owe a debt of thanks, and you, sir, an apology.” Then he turned from the burgess and addressed the House. “I do not perceive in this Stamp Act, sirs, either our will, our choice, or our consent!”

Hugh paused to take a breath, and continued. “The time to say ‘No,’ gentlemen, is
now
, and to give ambitious, careless men notice that we will not be ruled and bled to feebleness. If we succeed in a new, more vigorous protest, then the stage will be set for us to correct other imbalances, other injustices, other impositions. Better men than those who authored and passed this act are in Parliament now. They spoke for us. They were overwhelmed by the inertia of ignorance and the arrogance of avarice. But if we stand our ground now, more like them will take heart and come to the fore, men who see in this encroachment jeopardy of liberty in England itself, men who recognize the possibility of a partnership between England and this ad hoc confederation of colonies. We are Britons, sirs, and will not be slaves! We are Virginians, sirs, and should be wise and proud enough to find this tax repugnant to the cores of our souls!” He paused before concluding,
“Let us be known for our
Attic
faith!” Then he sat down.