Give Me Liberty Or Give Me…A Tree - Brief Article

American Forests, Autumn, 2000 by Jeff Meyer

In 1990 my friend Rick Grouse, who is senior vice president for marketing at AMERICAN FORESTS introduced me to a magnificent tree. The osage-orange, planted in the early 1800s at Red Hill, Patrick Henry's Virginia home, was at that time one of the two largest of its species in the U.S.

What a grand tree it is! Huge and rambling, it's well known throughout the region and well-remembered by those who see it. Rick shipped cuttings to my Florida nursery, and it was very satisfying when they rooted and grew tall. The story behind that tree--and behind Patrick Henry's life at Red Hill--is fascinating, and the osage-orange has become one of my favorites.

In the 1700s the Winston family of Virginia was known for having the gift of oratory. After Braddock's terrible defeat during the French and Indian War, his soldiers were hungry, ragged, and freezing. They were ready to desert and run until William Winston, a young lieutenant, addressed them with stirring words about liberty and patriotism.

Said one eyewitness, "So forceful was his speech that the recruits were now anxious to meet the dangers which shortly before had almost produced a mutiny."

Billy Winston's oratorical gift was shared by his nephew Patrick Henry, That was fortunate, for young Patrick had little formal education and was not a great reader. He was, from all accounts, a champion at fishing (just like my buddy Rick), able to sit beneath a shady tree for hours awaiting a bite. He was also quite a prankster.

Neither skill helped him make a living; Patrick failed at two businesses and started spending his wife's dowry. When the children began coming, Patrick realized he needed a profession and fast. He had long admired preachers and lawyers for their oratorical skills and had studied for the bar himself. (The examiners let him pass but told him to keep studying.) Once in the courtroom, though, his natural wit and speaking gifts made him a great success.

Like his Uncle Billy, Patrick Henry had strong convictions and the gift of a stirring voice. It's easy to forget that the American Revolution was not a foregone conclusion. Virtually all the colonists involved in government were of English descent, and many considered unfair English decisions like the Stamp Act irritating policies that could be borne and would eventually be reversed by England's Parliament. The idea of totally breaking from their friends and family back in Britain--in fact, waging war on them--seemed impossible. The idea of raising an army from backwoods colonists seemed laughable.

Patrick Henry was a delegate to the second Continental Congress when these issues came to a head. At the meeting in St. John's Church in Richmond, Virginia, on March 23, 1775, several well-respected gentlemen stood to explain why the colonists should hold out hope that the English Parliament would act more favorably. Their point was well taken.

But Patrick Henry's response would change the course of history. "There is no longer any room for hope," he said. "If we wish to he free, we must fight!--I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts, this is all that is left us. ... 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 give me death!"

Henry's motion passed by five votes. Those favoring revolution submitted a plan the next morning. (In fact, Thomas Jefferson had written it well in advance.) It was adopted and the Continental Army formed. Patrick Henry went on to have a distinguished career that included five terms as Virginia's governor.

As he grew older, Patrick's priorities shifted. To say he was a family man would be an understatement. He had two wives (the first died), 14 children, and 60 grandchildren.

He also began buying land, hoping to leave each son a "country seat." As he neared 60, he bought Red Hill plantation and moved the family there. The land itself was lush and remarkable, but the house was small and Henry still had teenaged daughters and six very young sons at home. Visitors used to find Patrick with "little ones climbing all over him in every direction, or dancing around him with obstreperous mirth, to the tune of his violin, while the only contest seemed to be who should make the most noise," a grandson noted.

And he reveled in nature. Many mentions are made of him playing his violin under the broad trees in front of Red Hill. After his death at the age of 63, it's entirely fitting that Lewis and Clark gave an osage-orange tree to one of Patrick's daughters, who immediately planted it at Red Hill. The trees were unknown in the East until Lewis and Clark sent them back from their journey.

If you're ever in the vicinity of Red Hill, stop in and see this remarkable tree. If you know anyone blessed with the gift of oratory, an offspring of this tree might make a fitting tribute to him or her, as well.

Jeff Meyer, Director, AMERICAN FORESTS' Famous & Historic Trees project