This was a memorable day. When we assembled at Metropolitan
Hall, it could be easily perceived that we were on the threshold of momentous
events. All other subjects, except that of a new political organization of the
State, seemed to be momentarily delayed, as if awaiting action elsewhere. And
this plan of political organization filled me with alarm, for I apprehended it
would result in a new conflict between the old parties — Whig and Democrat. The
ingenious discussion of this subject was probably a device of the Unionists,
two or three of them having obtained seats in the Revolutionary Convention. I
knew the ineradicable instincts of Virginia politicians, and their inveterate
habit of public speaking, and knew there were well-grounded fears that we
should be launched and lost in an illimitable sea of argument, when the
business was Revolution, and death to the coming invader. Besides, I saw no
hope of unanimity if the old party distinctions and designations were not
submerged forever.
These fears, however, were groundless. The Union had
received its blessure morlelle, and no power this side of the Potomac
could save it. During a pause in the proceedings, one of the leading members
arose and announced that he had information that the vote was about being taken
in the other Convention on the ordinance of secession. “Very well!;” cried
another member, “we will give them another chance to save themselves. But it is
the last!” This was concurred in by a vast majority. Not long after, Lieut.Gov.
Montague came in and announced the passage of the ordinance by the other
Convention! This was succeeded by a moment too thrilling for utterance, but was
followed by tears of gladness and rapturous applause. Soon after, President
Tyler and Gov. Wise were conducted arm-in-arm, and bare-headed, down the center
aisle amid a din of cheers, while every member rose to his feet. They were led
to the platform, and called upon to address the Convention. The venerable
ex-President of the United States first rose responsive to the call, but
remarked that the exhaustion incident to his recent incessant labors, and the
nature of his emotions at such a momentous crisis, superadded to the feebleness
of age, rendered him physically unable to utter what he felt and thought on
such an occasion. Nevertheless, he seemed to acquire supernatural strength as
he proceeded, and he spoke most effectively for the space of fifteen minutes.
He gave a brief history of all the struggles of our race for freedom, from Magna
Charta to the present day; and he concluded with a solemn declaration that
at no period of our history were we engaged in a more just and holy effort for
the maintenance of liberty and independence than at the present moment. The
career of the dominant party at the North was but a series of aggressions,
which fully warranted the steps we were taking for resistance and eternal
separation; and if we performed our whole duty as Christians and patriots, the
same benign Providence which favored the cause of our forefathers in the
Revolution of 1776, would again crown our efforts with similar success. He said
he might not survive to witness the consummation of the work begun that day;
but generations yet unborn would bless those who had the high privilege of being
participators in it.
He was succeeded by Gov. Wise, who, for a quarter of an
hour, electrified the assembly by a burst of eloquence, perhaps never surpassed
by mortal orator. During his pauses a silence reigned, pending which the
slightest breathing could be distinctly heard, while every eye was bathed in
tears. At times the vast assembly rose involuntarily to their feet, and every
emotion and expression of feature seemed responsive to his own. During his
speech he alluded to the reports of the press that the oppressors of the North
had probably seized one of his children sojourning in their midst. “But,” said
he, “if they suppose hostages of my own heart”s blood will stay my hand in a contest
for the maintenance of sacred rights, they are mistaken. Affection for kindred,
property, and life itself sink into insignificance in comparison with the
overwhelming importance of public duty in such a crisis as this.” He lamented
the blindness which had prevented Virginia from seizing Washington before the
Republican hordes got possession of it — but, said he, we must do our best
under the circumstances. It was now Independence or Death — although he had
preferred fighting in the Union — and when the mind was made up to die rather
than fail, success was certain. For himself, he was eager to meet the ordeal,
and he doubted not every Southern heart pulsated in unison with his own.
Hon. J. M. Mason, and many other of Virginia's distinguished
sons were called upon, and delivered patriotic speeches. And I finally, Gov.
Letcher appeared upon the stage. He was loudly cheered by the very men who,
two days before, would gladly have witnessed his execution. The governor spoke
very briefly, merely declaring his concurrence in the important step that had
been taken, and his honest purpose, under the circumstances, to discharge his
whole duty as Executive of the State, in conformity to the will of the people
and the provisions of the Constitution.
Before the sine die adjournment, it was suggested
that inasmuch as the ordinance had been passed in secret session, and it was
desirable that the enemy should not know it before certain preparations could
be made to avert sudden injury on the border, etc., that the fact should not be
divulged at present.
SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's
Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 21-4
