Convening for Freedom

“For God’s sake, declare the Colonies independent, at once, and save us from ruin.”

The sentiment of John Page’s April 1776 letter to Thomas Jefferson aligned with the hopes of many Virginians of the day. Inspired, in part, by the incendiary pamphlet Common Sense, Virginians, rich and poor, embraced its message: independence was possible and preferable to the yoke of a king and the British government.

But only elected members of the Fifth Virginia Convention had the official power to dissolve the bond between Virginia and Great Britain, and only they could instruct Virginia’s delegates to the Continental Congress to propose independence for all the colonies.

A Changing of the Guard

The question of independence dominated the April 1776 elections. The electorate was looking for delegates willing to pledge themselves to independence. Voter expectations upended the membership of Virginia’s elected body. Fresh faces with new ideas threatened the comfortable world that the old guard had built over decades.

Introduction of new representatives alarmed the gentry for practical reasons as well. Landon Carter, a wealthy landowner and an elite of the first order, wrote to George Washington that too many “inexperienced creatures” had been elected.

In that same letter, Carter betrayed what was really at stake. He writes of a voter whom he says thought independence was a release from the power of rich men, not necessarily the British government. Carter hides his concern behind a biting remark, “from hence (inexperienced representatives) it is that our independency is to arise.”

Convening the Convention

The Fifth Virginia Convention, like the four that preceded it, acted upon its own authority, outside the permissions of the British government. The term “convention” was carefully selected.

Other terms familiar to us had slightly different meanings in the 1770s. “House” identified one of the two houses of a legislature (such as the House of Lords and House of Commons in the U.K.).

“Congress,” our term for the entire U.S. legislature, had a different meaning that partially explains the origin of the Continental Congress. Before 1775, a congress was, according to Samuel Johnson’s 1755 dictionary, “an appointed meeting for settlement of affairs between different nations,” making it an appropriate name for the work of the Continental Congress in the years before independence. After 1775, as noted in the Oxford English Dictionary, “congress” came to mean “legislature” because of the Continental Congress. Their work didn’t just create a new nation, it forever changed the English language.

“Convention” simply identified an elected assembly and was an apt choice for Virginia. It was legally specific enough to describe the elected body, but not so constrictive as to limit its abilities. The conventions heard petitions, managed Virginia’s military affairs and even released people from jail. In fact, mundane petitions and subcommittee reports occupied the delegates the day before independence was declared.

The legal precision that was so important in their use of “convention” was just as evident in their resolutions for independence. Clarity was tantamount, and their grievances needed to be sharply delineated.

The three resolutions put forward, and the final adopted resolution, pointedly addressed the British violations of the things Virginia held sacred: their laws, their commerce and their fundamental freedoms. Virginians, like other colonies, no longer expected the British to restore the colonies’ rights as Englishmen. To recover representation, prosperity and their “English” rights, Virginians — the resolutions stated — had no other choice but to sever their bonds with the empire that instilled these values in the first place.

Resolutions Nation

While all the resolutions introduced on May 15, 1776, addressed Virginia’s core values, their approach, their focus and their scope varied. These differences, when refined and edited, made for a final resolution reflecting what Virginians found the most disconcerting.

Meriwether Smith, delegate from Essex County and an active member of the convention, was a wealthy landowner with a long legislative career. He hailed from the same county where John Lee wrote to his brother Richard Henry Lee that “independence is now the topic here, and I think I am not mistaken when I say it will (if not already) be very soon a Favourite Child.”

There is no indication that Smith read this letter, but he undoubtedly internalized its meaning. Although wealthy, Smith’s commitment to independence saved him his seat.

Of the three resolutions, the one Smith introduced was the most Virginia-centric, focusing on the recent experiences of the colony’s inhabitants. His document primarily addresses disruptions to commerce, stating that the British were “confiscating our Property whenever found on Water and legalizing ever Seizure, Robbery & Rapine.” That legalized economic terrorism was a product of the American Prohibitory Act, a Parliamentary law designed to stop trade and cripple the American cause.

Smith’s resolution made clear Virginians’ expected commercial autonomy. His remedy for these insults was simple: Break with Britain and adopt a Declaration of Rights and a new government.

Bartholomew Dandridge’s resolution was as sweeping as Smith’s was provincial. Dandridge, a delegate from New Kent and a longtime legislator, was an enthusiastic supporter of the American cause long before the question was called. After the closing of Boston Harbor, New Kent County all but declared independence in 1774. County leaders thought that reconciliation was possible, but breaking commercial ties and creating an “indissoluble union” with other colonies were legitimate means to restore “their common rights and liberties.”

His sweeping resolution complains that the British “bind the inhabitants of the American Colonies in all cases whatsoever.” This “binding,” however, was not fostering fealty with Britain, but was “in violation of every civil and religious right of the said Colonies.” Dandridge goes on to resolve that “America” should break ties with Great Britain, again demonstrating that this resolve isn’t for Virginia, but for all 13 colonies.

Patrick Henry, delegate from Hanover County, was not shy about his position on independence. He delivered his famous “give me liberty or give me death” speech less than a year before Virginia voted on the matter. Henry’s resolve is not as incendiary as some of his other legislation, but it still relied on his sharp rhetoric.

His begins with recognizing Congress’s efforts at reconciliation, but the bedrock of his argument is blame and fear. He appeals to the delegates’ anxieties about British violations of Anglo-Virginia rights. Like the other two resolutions, his refers to the Prohibitory Act and its economic disruption, but, unlike the others, Henry uses violent language, speaking of “the ravages that have been committed upon our coasts.” American prisoners of war, forced to fight against their brethren, degenerated to the level of “pirates the outlaws and enemies of human society.” Henry stokes white Virginiana’s fears of racial violence, blaming the British for “atrocities,” real and imagined. The mother country’s courtship of “savage Indians” to fight against Americans tapped into old conflicts and new fears about violence on the frontier. Henry also highlights the pressing issue of “insurrection among our slaves,” who, according to Henry, “are now actually in arms against us.”

The Final Resolution

On Wednesday, May 15, 1776, in Williamsburg, the convention met as a committee of the whole, which they called “State of the Colony.” This name was an ironic choice given that they knew the “state of the colony” was soon to be the “state of the Commonwealth.” Passing over the traditional legislative process (where once a bill is submitted it is referred to the proper committee, and then re-introduced and read twice before a vote), which could take days or even months, the committee heard the three bills, debated their merits, created a compromise, closed the committee, reopened the convention and voted on the new resolution, all in a matter of hours. The final resolution included elements of the three
earlier resolutions.

The final resolution was a road map for full independence. But it was also firmly grounded in Virginians’ frustrations. Like Henry’s resolution, the final product opened with the rejection of American petitions of reconciliation. It identified the direct connection between the rejected petitions and the “vigorous attempt to effect our total destruction.” Virginia’s ancient amity for the British ended when the colonies were no longer under protection of the King.

Like Smith’s resolution, the final product discussed the flight of the governor, Lord Dunmore, from the city and his subsequent “piratical and savage war” from his ship in the Norfolk Harbor. Dunmore’s Proclamation in 1775 freed the enslaved people of those in rebellion as long as they enlisted with the British, and lingering fears of insurrection made this grievance especially important to Virginians.

Not everyone was pleased with the compromises. Henry was disappointed with the restraint of the final list of grievances, stating, “’tis not quite so pointed as I could wish.” George Mason, delegate to the convention and later author of Virginia’s Declaration of Rights, deemed the preamble, “. . . tedious, rather timid, & in many instances exceptionable.” Regardless of its flaws, the resolution of the Fifth Virginia Convention inspired, with the help of Henry’s rousing speech, a unanimous vote.

The preamble’s limited focus identifies what issues Virginians thought important enough to enshrine for posterity, but the real significance came from the instructional resolves. The instructions were simple: the Virginia delegation to the Congress was to introduce the question of independence, and the Congress was to vote for it. Virginia’s resolution “empowered” the Congress to form “foreign alliances,” and encouraged individual colonies to create their own, separate governments.

These instructions combined continental interests with solutions to Virginia’s pressing issues. The resolutions called for creating a new Virginia government and a declaration of rights.

A Declaration of Rights

Delegates were aware that just separating from Britain would be a job half done. Any new nation, they reasoned, needed a government both to protect its people and to preserve itself. The convention appointed a committee to create a declaration of rights and an outline for a government. Among those on the committee were delegates Mason and James Madison, who was in his mid-20s at the time.

Mason did much of the work and, in a matter of weeks, had drafted 18 articles that were then circulated not just in Virginia but up and down the colonies. What he and the others wrote would heavily influence the constitutions of other states and the Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights.

What ultimately passed in Virginia was a document of 16 articles that outlines not only the rights of the people but also what is expected of the government and of the citizenry to keep the government functioning.

It states, “All Men are by nature equally free and Independent and have certain inherent Rights ... namely the enjoyment of Life and liberty with the means of acquiring and possessing property and pursuing and obtaining happiness and Safety.”

The Declaration of Rights guarantees freedom of the press and religion. However, it also reminds Virginians that self-government requires them to adhere to “Justice Moderation Temperance Frugality and Virtue.”

Creating a Commonwealth

The idea of independence was not a bolt of genius simultaneously striking 112 men on a cool day in May of 1776. Virginians and other colonies had been examining, embracing, questioning, discarding or internalizing liberation well before then. Some people, like those of New Kent County, were on the verge of independence in 1774. Others, like Robert Carter Nicholas, had serious misgivings before the vote.

Together, Virginians reasoned through the most pressing issues of the day and created an effective document. The writers connected the frustrations of Virginia to those of the other 12
colonies, creating a sturdier bond. The internal- and external-facing resolution expressed not only slights but solutions. Calling for independence was only one part of the final resolution’s significance.

For the Commonwealth of Virginia and the United States, there was still much to be done. 

The Journal’s Journey

The Journal of the Fifth Virginia Convention recorded some of the most dramatic events in American history. The journal’s own history had quite a few twists and turns.

Soon after the Civil War ended, a Union soldier took the manuscript from the state archives in Richmond. His descendants kept the journal until the 1940s, when they sold it to James Hook, a Pennsylvania dealer in rare books and manuscripts. Through a separate rare-book dealer, Hook offered it to the state and The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation for $25,000. Documents in the Library of Virginia’s archives trace what happened next.

Aug. 13, 1941: William J. Van Schreeven, the head archivist of the Virginia State Library (which later became the Library of Virginia), wrote Hook saying the state had never relinquished ownership of the journal and that Hook should return it.

Oct. 28, 1941: A Virginia resident, Miss Lee Carter Brown, reported that she had approached Hook and that he had threatened to burn the manuscript if Virginia tried to prevent him from selling it. She noted that Hook shared a last name with a famous pirate.

Undated letter: Van Schreeven wrote Hook, reiterating that Virginia would not pay him for a manuscript the state felt it owned, but offered him $500 for its “care and custody.”

Jan. 21, 1942: Hook responded to Van Schreeven, telling him Colonial Williamsburg was considering buying the journal.

Jan. 27, 1942: Van Schreeven wrote Hunter Farish, director of Colonial Williamsburg’s Department of Research and Record, telling him the volume belonged to the state.

Feb. 24, 1942: Kenneth Chorley, president of The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation, wrote to Wilmer Hall of the Virginia State Library, saying that Colonial Williamsburg, having now learned the state might acquire the manuscript for $500, would drop the idea of buying it.

Undated report in the Library of Virginia Archives: The library noted that it has compared the handwriting to that of the previous convention’s journal. Both appeared to have been written by John Tazewell, the clerk of both conventions. The report also noted two other cases of documents being turned over to the state. In one, the state had sued J. P. Morgan, demanding he turn over Martha Washington’s will, and Morgan had done so after the case was settled out of court.

April 29, 1942: The state librarian reported that Hook had threatened to sue the library, but then agreed to accept the offer of $500.

Aug. 25, 1942: A library document noted that the manuscript journal was safely housed in its vault.