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12   Patrick  Henry        Patrick  Henry                 13

 herents  of  the  clergy  to  squirm  in  their  seats,  and   chimes.  God,  what was  it?  What was  this  trans-
 then  the  attorney  for  the  defen·se  addressed  the   formation?  And now his figure  swayed, his mighty
 jury.  He  was  an  excellent  lawyer.  Point  after   arms  became  as  graceful  as  though  they  were  of
 point he  met  and  piled  up  such  a  mass  of  evidence   classic  mould,  his  clenched  h~nds  accentuated  his
 in favor  of his case that it seemed preposterous that   words.  And  it  was  then  and  thus  that  the  little
 an appeal  should ever have  been taken.  There was   crowded  courtroom  of  Jam es town,  Virginia,  heard
 a  hearty  burst  of  applause  as  the  learned  and  be-  for  the  first  time  the  greatest  orator  the  world  has
 powdered  gentleman  took  his  seat,  which  was   ever  known.
 quickly  silenced  by  the  rap,  tap,  tap  of  the  judge's
 gavel.  And then came the real silence, a  silence that   When  Henry finished  speaking,  he  took  his  seat.
 was  an oppression, a  silence which precedes a  pain-  A  cheer went up, a cheer that shook the rafters.  At
 ful  deed  which  must be  gone  through.  Slowly  the   that moment the crowded courtroom had gone mad.
 tall figure  of Patrick Henry rose.  He had in  honor.   They  knew  not  why,  but  they  had  been  moved  as
 of the court changed his clothes.  In his usual buck-  never  before.  There  was  a  movement  among  the
 skin,  his bronzed skin blended with _his  habiliments.   jurists,  and  then  the  foreman  informed  the  court
 In  his  simple  homespun  square-cut  and  his  cotton   that they had agreed upon a  verdict without leaving
 shirt,  open  at  the  neck,  it  but  accentuated  their  ill   their seats, and the verdict was for the clergy.  Again
 fitting  and  made  him  look  even  ungainly.  There·   a mighty cheer.  What was it?  What was it?  The
 was one face  in that courtroom that showed sorrow   very  air  of  that  stuffy  courtroom  seemed  charged
 and  sympathy.  It was  the face  of the  father,  who,   with  magnetism.  Two  there  were  who  did  not
 like  Brutus  of  Tarquin,  was  there  to  see  the  death   cheer,  their  emotions were  too  great-one  an  aged
 of  his  son.  Slowly  Henry  advanced  to  the  front   associate  judge,  whose  head  was  bowed  with  tear-
 of  the  jury.  Slowly  and  in  a  low  voice  Henry  be-  filled  eyes,  and the other a  tavernkeeper's  daughter,
 gan to speak.  What was it?  What was it? . What   away  at  the  back  of  the  courtroom,  whose  tears
 was  he  saying?  What was  it  that  was  compelling   came  down  like  drops  of  rain,  as  the  shaft  of  sun-
 their  attention?  Those  who  came  to  jeer were  lis-  light from the window  shone  upon her bonny head.
 tening, listening and they knew not why.  Nor could
 they define what it was that was holding them.  The   Again we go to the private tap room of the tavern.
 same  quiet  voice  continued,  he  was  talking,  just   The  rebellious  spirit  that  was  sweeping  over  the
 talking.  God, it se·emed like witchcraft.  What was   Colonies  was  commencing  to  become  more  notice-
 it?  What  was  it?  And  then  suddenly  the  object   able,  and  as  the  Tory  subj_ects  of  King  George
 of  their  gaze  straightened  up  to  his  full  height,  he   talked  it  became  apparent  that  it  would  go  hard
 seemed  to  tower  above  all  the · world.  His  voice   with  those  who  were  embroiled  in  any  action  of
 that had  been low  and soft rang out like  Christmas   treason.  Patrick  Henry was  not  now  discussed  as
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