of oratory, were astonishingly mild.  Probably many of the delegates would have preferred to use fiery tongues.  Samuel Adams, for instance, though “prematurely gray, palsied in hand, and trembling in voice,” must have had difficulty in restraining himself.  He wrote as viciously as he spoke.  “Damn that Adams,” said one of his enemies.  “Every dip of his pen stings like a horned snake.”  Patrick Henry, being asked when he returned home, “Who is the greatest man in Congress,” replied:  “If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge of South Carolina is by far the greatest orator; but if you speak of solid information and sound judgment, Colonel Washington is unquestionably the greatest man on that floor.”  The rumor had it that Washington said, he wished to God the Liberties of America were to be determined by a single Combat between himself and George.  One other saying of his at this time is worth reporting, although it cannot be satisfactorily verified. “More blood will be spilled on this occasion, if the ministry are determined to push matters to extremity, than history has ever yet furnished instances of in the annals of North America.”  The language and tone of the “Summary View”—­a pamphlet which Thomas Jefferson had issued shortly before—­probably chimed with the emotions of most of the delegates.  They adopted (October 14, 1774) the “Declaration of Rights,” which may not have seemed belligerent enough for the Radicals, but really leaves little unsaid.  A week later Congress agreed to an “Association,” an instrument for regulating, by preventing, trade with the English.  Having provided for the assembling of a second Congress, the first adjourned.

As a symbol, the First Congress has an integral importance in the growth of American Independence.  It marked the first time that the American Colonies had acted together for their collective interests.  It served notice on King George and Lord North that it repudiated the claims of the British Parliament to govern the Colonies.  It implied that it would repel by force every attempt of the British to exercise an authority which the Colonists refused to recognize.  In a very real sense the Congress thus delivered an ultimatum.  The winter of 1774/5 saw preparations being pushed on both sides.  General Thomas Gage, the British Commander-in-Chief stationed at Boston, had also thrust upon him the civil government of that town.  He had some five thousand British troops in Boston, and several men-of-war in the harbor.  There were no overt acts, but the speed with which, on more than one occasion, large bodies of Colonial farmers assembled and went swinging through the country to rescue some place, which it was falsely reported the British were attacking, showed the nervous tension under which the Americans were living.  As the enthusiasm of the Patriots increased, that of the Loyalists increased also.  Among the latter were many of the rich and aristocratic inhabitants, and, of course, most