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LIFE OF JOHN RMDOLPH
VOL. I.

FNimAVED. m' ./.SAWTjVV. ¦

JKDLK W IRi^M D ®LIP[

THE LIFE

OF

JOHN RANDOLPH

OF ROANOKE

HUGH A. GARLANb.

VOL. L

ELBVBCfTH EDITION.
t

NEW-YORK :
D. APPLETON & COMPANY,

846 Si 348 BROADWAY.
M.DCCC.LVI.

Enthreo, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850, by
D. APPLETON & COMPANY,
in Uie Clerk's Oflice of the District Court for the Southern District of New- York.

PREFACE.
The author of this book has had, perhaps, as good an oppor
tunity as any other man, who was not a contemporaiy and
intimate friend, to form a just estimate of Mr. Eandolph's
character, and also to collect valuable and copious materials
for his biography. He was educated in Mr. Eandolph's
district, was familiar with all the local associations of that
devoted son of the Old Dominion, often saw him among
his beloved constituents, and heard him under most favor
able circumstances both on the hustings and in the Virginia
Convention. The writer was then but a youth, full of all
the eager interest and curiosity that would naturally be
excited by so extraordinary a man. Since Mr. Eandolph's
death, it has been his good fortune to have been thrown into
the circle of his most intimate and confidential friends, some
of whom the writer feels justified in saying he also may claim
as his friends. While the thought of writing a life of Mr.
Eandolph is of recent date, the character of the man and the
incidents of his life have been for many years the subject of
interest and of inquiry, which were abundantly gratified by
those who knew him and delighted to discourse on the
peculiarities and eccentricities of their departed friend.
Some ten or twelve years before his death, Mr. Eandolph

vi PREFACE.
made a will liberating his slaves ; a short time before his de
cease, while under the influence of utter debility and disease,
he made various and conflicting dispositions of his property.
Here, of course, was a fruitful theme for the Courts. "Was Mr.
Eandolph capable of making a will in the latter part of his
life ? was the subject of inquiry. Nearly every body who
had known him, or who had had any dealings with him, from
the earliest period, were summoned to give testimony. Many
interesting and important facts, that would properly find a
place in his biography, were elicited on that occasion. The
whole testimony, was taken down by an accurate stenographer,
and the most important parts afterwards were written out in
full. These valuable materials were placed in the hands of
the writer of this memoir. .In 1845, the whole subject again
underwent a thorough investigation before the Circuit Court
of Petersburg, many additional witnesses were summoned, and
much new and important information elicited. The writer
was a personal attendant on that Court during the trial.
To Mrs. Elizabeth Bryan, who is the niece of Mr. Ean
dolph, and to Mr. Bryan himself, who is the son of his earli
est friend, we are indebted for the interesting correspondence
to be found in the first volume of this work. To Mrs. Dudley,
Judge Beverly Tucker, the Hon. John Taliaferro, and Gover
nor Tazewell, who were the youthful companions and school
mates of Mr. Eandolph, we are indebted for the incidents of
his early life. By far the most interesting and important part
of the work is the copious and unreserved correspondence of Mr.
Eandolph with the late and much lamented Francis S. Key,
Esq., of Washington, and Dr. John Brockenbrough, of Vir
ginia. This latter gentleman was, par excellence, the friend of
his bosom. Not a thought or a feeling was concealed from him,

PREFACE. ylj
and from 1811 to May, 17, 1833 ,but a few days before his death,
Mr. Eandolph wrote constantly, many times daUy, to this in
valuable friend. The entire correspondence is now in the
hands of the writer. Without these materials and this unre
served confidence on the part of one who most valued the re
putation of his departed friend, the author would never have
undertaken the diificult task of writing the life of John Ean
dolph. Very many of the letters have been inserted in their
proper places — and many of the facts and incidents interwoven
into the narrative, were obtained from others which have been
suppressed — the author's chief study has been to use discreetly
the unbounded confidence that was reposed in his prudence
and judgment. It would be almost impossible to enumerate
all the persons to whom we are i-ndebted for many of the in
cidents narrated in this biography ; every body knows some
thing of the extraordinary man who is the subject of it ; but
we have given each one, we trust, credit for his contribution
in its proper place. Many of the anecdotes and witticisms
commonly attributed to Mr. Eandolph are not found in this
work, because there is no authority for them. " All the bas
tard wit of the country," said he to a friend, "has been fa
thered on me."
As to the printed sources of information connected with Mr.
Eandolph's public career, besides a valuable collection of pam
phlets obtained from the estate of the late John Clopton, the au
thor has had free accessto the library of Congress, which, hav
ing been collected by Mr. Jefferson, is very copious on all sub
jects connected with the history and politics of the country.
Besides these, Mr. Eitchie was so kind as to lend the only full
file of the Enquirer in his possession. The reader needs not to
be informed that the Eichmond Enquirer contains a full chroni-

viii PREFACE.
cle of every thing that has been said and done in Virginia,
worthy of being recorded in history, from 1804 to the present
time. Such were the materials in possession of the author. The
difficulty was not to obtain — ^but to sift, digest, and arrange
the abundant treasures in his possession. The book was
commenced when the author had leisure to write to his
satisfaction ; it has been finished in the intervals oi a labori
ous profession, and he feels that there are many defects which
more time and leisure would have enabled him to correct.
J\iany of the chapters were written under feelings of depres
sion and anxiety while that dread pestilence, the cholera, had
overshadowed with gloom and made desolate our devoted city.
Whatever may be the defects of the book, however, the reader
may be assured that nothing will be found in it that the au
thor has not good reason to believe is true.
H. A. GAELAND.
Saint Louis, August, 1850.

CONTENTS OF VOL. I. PAGE
CHAPTER I.
Birthplace ......... 1
CHAPTER II.
Matoax — Genealogy ........ I
CHAPTER III.
Childhood ........ J
CHAPTER IV.
Family Circle . . . . ... , .12
CHAPTER V.
Flight from Matoax . . .... 16
CHAPTER VI.
At School . . . . . . . . .20
CHAPTER VII,
The Constitution in its Chrysalis State .... 26
CHAPTER VIII.
George Mason . . . , , . . . ,35
CHAPTER IX,
Early Political Associations ...... 40

X CONTENTS. FAU
CHAPTER X.
Thomas Jefferson . . ... . . • • ^"
CHAPTER XI.
SmaU Beginnings— Edmund Burke— Thomas Paine . 52
CHAPTER XII.
.Youthful Companions . . . . . . ,69
CHAPTER XIII
Eichard Randolph ... ... 61
CHAPTER XIV.
Visit to Charleston and 6reorgia . . . , . .64
CHAPTER XV.
At Home ... . ... 69
CHAPTER XVI.
Candidate for Congress — History of the Times , . . .73
CHAPTER XVII.
The Fauchet Letter ....... 85
CHAPTER XVIII.
Mr. Monroe — France— Mr. Adams elected President . . .95
CHAPTER XIX,
The X. Y. Z. Business .....,, 108
CHAPTER XX.
Patrick Henry •¦•.... 129
CHAPTER XXI.
March Court — The Rising and the Setting Sun . , . 128
CHAPTER XXII.
France and the Administration • . . . , 142

CONTENTS. xi
PAOB
CHAPTER XXIII.
Scene in the Play-House — Standing Army . . . 157
CHAPTER XXIV.
Make to yourself an Idol, and, in spite of the Decalogue, Worship it 166
CHAPTER XXV,
The course of True Love never did run Smooth . ¦ 177
CHAPTER XXVI.
Presidental Eltvition, 1800-1— Midnight Judges . . 185
CHAPTER XXVII.
The Seventh and Eighth Congresses — Chairman of the Committee of
Ways and Means — The Working Period — The Yazoo Business i90
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Friendship ........ 205
CHAPTER XXIX.
Ninth Congress — Foreign Relations — Difficulties with France and Spain 213
CHAPTER XXX.
Difficulties with Great Britain ..... 229
CHAPTER XXXL
Closing Scene ........ 242
CHAPTER XXXII.
Aaron Burr ........ 252
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Emhargo— The Iliad of all our Woes ..... 262
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Gunboats . . ..... 271
CHAPTER XXXV.
James Madison — Presidental Election .... 276

xii CONTENTS. pAoa
CHAPTER XXXVI.
War with England  284
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Clay- Calhoun ........ 303

CHAPTEE I
BIETHPLACE.
Cawsons, situated on a commanding promontory, near Jie luouth of
Appom'atox river, was the family seat of Colonel Theodorick Bland,
Senior, of Prince George. After winding amidst its woody islands.
around the base of this hill, the river spreads out into a wide bay ;
and, together with the James, into which it empties, makes towards
the north and east a magnificent water prospect, embracing in one view
Shirley, the seat of the Carters, Bermuda Hundred, with its harbor
and ships. City Point, and other places of less note. In the midst
of this commanding scene, the old mansion-house reared its ample
proportions, and, with its offices and extended wings, was not an un
worthy representative of the baronial days in which it was built —
when Virginia cavaliers, under the title of gentlemen, with their
broad domain of virgin soil, and long retinue of servants, lived in a
style of elegance and profusion, not inferior to the barons of Eng
land, and dispensed a hospitality which more than half a century of
subdivision, exhaustion, and decay, has not entirely effaced from the
memory of their impoverished descendants.
At Cawsons, scarcely a vestige now remains of former magnifi
cence. The old mansion was burnt down many years ago. Here
and there a solitary out-dwelling, which escaped the conflagration.
like the old servants of a decayed family, seem to speak in melan
choly pride of those days, when it was their glory to stand in the
shadow of loftier walls, and reflect back their loud revelry, when
" The misletoe hung in the castle hall,
The holly branch shone on the old oak wall ;
And the baron's retainers were blithe and gay,
And keeping their Christmas holiday."
VOL. I, 1

2 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
The serpentine paths, the broad avenues, and smooth gravel, the
mounds, the green turf, and the shrubbery of extended pleasure-
grounds, are all mingled with the vulgar sod. The noble outlines of
nature are still there ; but the handiwork of man has disappeared.
In a letter to his friend, F. S. Key, dated March 20, 1814, John
Eandolph says : — " A few days ago I returned from a visit to my
birthplace, the seat of my ancestors on one side — the spot where my
dear and honored mother was given in marriage, and where I was
ushered in this world of woe. The sight of the broad waters seemed
to renovate me. I was tossed in a boat, duiing a row of three miles
across James river, and sprinkled with the spray that dashed over
her. The days of my boyhood seemed to be renewed ; but at the
end of my journey I foiind desolation and stillness as of death — the
fires of hospitality long since quenched ; the parish church, assoeia
ted with my earliest and tenderest recollections, tumbling to pieces ;
not more from natural decay than sacrilegious violence ! What a
spectacle does our lower country present ! Deserted and dismantled
country-houses, once the seats of cheerfulness and plenty, and the tera
ples of the Most High ruinous and desolate, ' frowning in portentous
silence upon the land.' The very mansions of the dead have not es
caped violation. Shattered fragments of armorial bearings, and epi
taphs on scattered stone, attest the piety and vanity of the past, and
the brutality of the present age."
Colonel Bland was an active promoter of the Revolution. When
Lord Dunmore, in the spring of 1775, under instructions from Eng
land, undertook to disarm the people, by secretly withdrawing the
muskets and powder from the Magazine in Williamsburg, Colonel
Bland was among the first to rouse the country to resistance. As
munitions of war were scarce, he, his son Theodorick Bland, Jun.,
and his son-in-law, John Eandolph, father of the late John of Eoan-
oke, sold forty negroes, and with the money purchased powder for
the use of the colony. Endowed with an ample fortune and a manly
character, having been for a series of years in succession lieutenant
of the county of Prince G-eorge, clerk of the court, and representa
tive in the House of Burgesses, he possessed a commanding influ
ence among the people. His house was the centre of a wide circle of
friends and relations, who had pledged their lives, fortunes, and sa
cred honor, to the cause of independence. Though they did not rise

BIRTHPLACE 3
to be master-spirits in that eventful struggle, the Blands, the Banis
ters, the Boilings, and the Batons, were inferior to none in zeal, de
votion, and heroic sacrifice.
The political spirit of the times may be inferred from the follow
ing incident : — The old man growing weary of a solitary life of wi
dowhood, was advised by his son to look for a matrimonial connec
tion in a oertain quarter After spying out the land, he wrote to
his son : " Our politics differed so much that we parted by mutual
consent ;" and in allusion to his own choice, he says : " the person I
have thought of, is a lady of great goodness, sensible, and a true
whig." Among those who frequented Cawsons at this time, and pari.ook
of its welcome and generous hospitality, and shared with its inmates
a proud defiance of the encroachments of England, was a young
foreigner — though he can scarcely be called a foreigner who speaks
our own mother tongue, and was bred up almost in sight of the Amer
ican shores.
St. George Tucker was born of respectable parents in the island
of Bermuda, where he commenced the study of law, but came to
Virginia, before the Eevolution, in order to complete his academic
exercises in William and Mary College. His urbanity, social dis
position, and literary attainments, introduced him into the best com
pany and fashionable circles of the city. His general good conduct
and deportment procured him the favor of most of the distinguished
gentlemen of that place. When he had completed his college courses.
he resumed the study of law, and settled permanently in Williams
burg ; but, on the breaking out of the disturbances with Great Bri
tain, he took part with his adopted country, laid aside his legal pur-
saits, and engaged in other occupations. It doubtless was his inten
tion to have served in the tented field ; but what he might have done
in the way of military achievement, is left only to conjecture. That
he might have rivalled Kosciusko, or Pulaski, or De Kalb, he after
wards gave ample proof on the field of Guilford ; but the glittering
butterfly of military glory was destined to fade before the more sub
stantial charsas of female beauty.
Though Cawsons was a pleasant place, its chief magic lay in the
Colonel's youngest daughter, Mrs. Frances Randolph, who, in her
" unhappy widowhood," (to use her own expressive language,) had for

4 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
the most part forsaken her own solitary home, and sought society and
consolation beneath her father's roof Mrs. Eandolph was possessed
of high mental qualities and extraordinary beauty. Though one
might suppose she was endowed with little personal attraction, from
au expression of her brother, Colonel Theodorick Bland, Jun., who
was accustomed to call her, '' my tawny sister." But tradition, con
firmed by the portraits extant, speaks in admiration of her uncom
mon charms. The high, expanded forehead; smooth, arched brow,
and brilliant dark eyes ; the well-defined nose, and full, round, laugh
ing lips, pregnant with wit and mirthfulness ; the tall figure and ex
panded chest ; the dark hair, winding in massy folds around the neck
and bosom ; an open, cheerful countenance — all suffused with that
deep, rich, oriental tint that never fades — made her the most beauti
ful, sprightly, and attractive woman of her age.
Though clad in widow's garments, and on her brow lay a pensive
stillness, as of one dreaming, she was yet young and beautiful. By
her side, or on her knee, as inseparable as her own shadow, was a
child — her youngest child — a little boy, her favorite John, the very
image of his mother. In his dark eyes were reflected the sadness of
her own soul ; on his orphan brow was imprinted a kiss, that ever and
anon a tear washed away. So much of subdued loveliness could
not fai} to win the sympathy of old and young, and to call forth
sighs of pity and regret.
St. George Tucker, the first time he beheld the mother and her
child, was filled with that mingled sentiment which more agitates the
soul, and takes deeper hold on the affections, than any single pas
sion. He soon found himself an ardent lover at the feet of the
charming widow. A wife at sixteen, she was not long to be per
suaded at six-and-twenty to abandon her unhappy widowhood. In
an old family Prayer Book, in her own handwriting, is found the
following record :
The unhappy widowhood of Frances Randolph commenced on the
28th day of Oct., in the year 1775.
John Randolph and Frances Bland were married the 9th of
March, 1769.
Eichard Randolph, their first son, was born the 9ih of March, 1770
Theodorick Bland Randolph, their second son, was born the 22d
of January,. 1771.
John Randolph, their third son, was born the 2d of June 1773.

MATOAX— GENEALOGY. 6
Jane Rafidolph, their first daughter, was born Nov. 10th, 1774,
and died on the 26th of Nov., 1774.
The following additions to the above record is found in the hand
writing of the late John Randolph of Roanoke :
John Randolph, Junior, fourth son of Richard Randolph, of
Curies, in the County of Henrico, was born on the 29th of June,
1742, 0. S.,— answering to the 10th of July, N. S.
Frances Bland, fifth and youngest daughter of Theodorick
Bland, of Cawsons, in the county of Prince George, was born on the
24th of Sept., 1752, N. S.
John Randolph, Esq., died at Matoax, on the 28th of October
1775 ; and on the 23d of Sept., 1778, his widow married St. George
Tucker, of Bermuda.

CHAPTEE II.
MATOAX — GENEALOGY.
Matoax, the residence of John and Frances Eandolph during his
life, of Mrs. Randolph in her widowhood, and of herself and Mr.
Tucker, her second husband, till the time of her death, was situ
ated on Appomatox, about two miles above Petersburg, on the
opposite side ; midway the falls, and on a high bluff, commanding a
wide prospect of the surrounding country. At the time Mr. Tucker
was introduced there by his elegant and accomplished bride, it was
the centre of a populous, wealthy, and fashionable neighborhood.
To say nothing of the town, there were Battersea, Mayfield, Burling
ton, Mansfield, Olive Hill, Violet Hill, Roslin, all on the same
river ; many in sight, and none more than two miles distant. These
were the residences of gentlemen of ample fortunes, liberal educa
tion, polished manners, refined hospitality, and devoted patriotism.
They have all since passed into other hands ; some have gone down
entirely ; and the wild pine and the broom sedge have made such
steady encroachments,, that a wilderness has grown up in the place
of fruitful fields, and more wild deer can be caught within a circuit
of ten miles around the second most populous city in the State, than
in a similar space in the prairies of the West A statue of Niobe,
in her own capitol — of Niobe weeping for her children — ^would be no

g LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
unfit emblem of Old Virginia ; her sons gone, her hearths cold, her
fields desolate.
The mansion house at Matoax, like that at Cawsons, was burnt
down many years ago. Nothing now remains but a heap of ruins.
When we visited the spot, the factory boys, with their hounds, were
chasing the hares over those solitary hills where once the proud sons
of a proud race pursued the same light-footed game. A high hill to
the eastward of that on which the mansion was, and separated from
it by a deep ravine, is crowned by a thick cluster of oaks and other
trees. At the foot, and under the shadow of those trees, are two
graves, covered with simple marble slabs, level with the earth, — con
taining the following inscriptions :
Johannes Randolph, Arm :
Ob. xxviii. Octo,
MDCCLXXV,
.^t. xxxiv.
Non opibus urna, nee mens
virtutibus absit.
(^Translaied^
John Randolph, Esq., died Oct. 28th, 1775, aged 34. Let not a
tomb be wanting to his ashes, nor memory to his virtues.
L H. S.
Francescas Tucker Blandae,
Conjugio
Sti Georgii Tucker.
Quis desiderio sit modus?
Obiit xviii. Januarii,
MDCCLXXXyill,
.^t. xxxvi.
( Translated.")
Jesus, Saviour of mankind.
When shall we cease to mourn for Frances Bland Tucker, wife of
St. George Tucker? She died 18th January, 1788, aged 36.
The father and the mother of the late John Randolph of Roa
noke ! It was his wish to be buried by their side. In a letter
dated London, Deo. 19, 1830, he says : " I have personally but one
wish ; it is to be buried by the side of my honored parents at old
Matoax, and I have taken measures to effectuate it. It is not long

MATOAX -GENEALOGY. 7
since this desire sprung up in my heart, where all else is withered,
hard and dry."
Matoax was a part of the vast inheritance which descended from
Richard Eandolph of Curies, to his four sons, Eichard, Brett,
Eyland, and John.
His will is still extant, and bears date about the time of the
birth of his youngest son, John, and a short time before his own
death, 1742. It makes disposition of not less than forty thousand
acres of the choicest lands on the James, Appomatox, and Eoanoke
rivers. Most of this vast estate was accumulated by his own ' in
dustry and economy," as we learn from a monument erected to his
memory at Turkey Island by his third son, Eyland. To his daugh
ters — Mary, who married Archibald Cary, of Ampthill ; Jane, who
married Anthony Walke, of Princess Anne ; and Elizabeth, who
married Eichard Kidder Meade — he left only personal property.
All the lands were divided among the four sons. Those on Appo
matox fell to John ; those on Eoanoke, jointly to John and Eyland.
Eyland died without heir, and his portion descended to his brother ;
so that John, at the time of his death in 1775, was possessed of
large and valuable estates on Appomatox and Eoanoke.
Eichard Eandolph of Curies, was the fourth son of Col. Wm.
Eandolph, of Warwickshire, England, who was the first of the name
that emigrated to Virginia, and settled at Turkey Island. He died
April llth, 1711. That he was of Warwickshire, we learn from a
monument at Turkey Island ; but the late John Eandolph, who
took great pride in searching into the genealogy of his family, says
that he was of Yorkshire. Between the researches of the Hon.
John, and the monument at Turkey Island, we leave the reader to
judge. William Eandolph was the father of seyen sons and two
daughters, who became the progenitors of a widespread and numer
ous race, embracing the most wealthy families, and many of the most
distinguished names in Virginia history.
We will not cumber our pages with their complicated and unintel
ligible genealogy. In the course of our narrative, we shall give suoh
portions as may become necessary for its elucidation. At present,
we are only concerned with Eichard Eandolph of Curies, the fourth
son. He married Jane Boiling, who was the daughter of John Boi
ling, who was the son of Eobert Boiling and Jane Eolfe his wife,

8 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
who was the granddaughter of Pocahontas, the beautiful Indian
princess, daughter of Powhatan, whose pathetic story is so well
known. The portrait of Mrs. Eandolph (Jane Boiling) is still extant.
A more marked and commanding countenance is rarely to be met
with. A perfect contrast to the luxurious ease, graceful manners,
fluent and courtly conversation, betrayed by the full round face, ruddy
complexion, low projecting eyes, smooth brow, and the delicate per
son and features of her husband. If the portrait be true to nature
none of the Indian complexion can be traced in her countenance.
Her erect and firm position, and square broad shoulders, are the only
indications of Indian descent. The face is decidedly handsome;
while the lofty, expanded, and well marked forehead, the great
breadth between the eyes, the firm distended nostril, compressed lips,
and steady eye, display an intellect, a firmness, and moral qualities,
truly heroic and commanding. Worthy descendant of the daughter
of Powhatan. Placing the two portraits side by side, one cannot fail to trace in
the general contour of countenance, and cranial development, a
striking resemblance between this lady and her grandson, the late
John Eandolph of Eoanoke.

CHAPTEE III.
CHILDHOOD.
A WISE poet and philosopher has said, " The child is father of the
man," and that our days are " Bound each to each in natural piety."
Who has not felt the force of this truth, so beautifully expressed ?
Who is not conscious that his personal identity cannot be measured
by time — that he is the same to-day he was yesterday, and as far
back as memory can reach ? Though covered with years and busied
with grayer trifles, who does not feel that he is the same being that
once gambolled on the plain with his school-fellows, and sought
childish sports with cheerful heart by flood and field? Life is a con
tinuous growth. The outspreading oak that shades the venerable
old man at its root, is but the gradual development of the little nut

CHILDHOOD. 9
that lay concealed in the acorn, which in his childhood he carelessly
planted there. Had it been planted in a more genial soil, it might
have attained a prouder growth. In a Siberian clime it would have
been stunted and mean. Circumstances, therefore, do not make, but
they develope the man. To know one thoroughly as he is; why he is
thus and not otherwise ; the man he is and not another ; we must go
back to his childhood. We must go to the salient point, to take the
scope and direction of his character. We must see him surrounded
by the circumstances that gave the first impulse ; the influences that
first stamped their impress on the plastic clay ; we must know by what
scenes he was surrounded ; was he reared by the mountain-side, the
running stream, or on the ocean's shore ? was he in daily converse
with the tamer scenes of nature, or with the grand, or the beautiful ?
what sort of people were his father and mother, his brothers and
sisters, his playmates, and the men and women that went in and out
before him ? what books lay in his way ? what lessons were taught
him, not in the school-house, but the nursery, and by the domestic
fireside ? what were the traditions, opinions, passions, prejudices,
that constituted a part of his heritage far more important than lands
or merchandise ?
Could we but know these things about the heroes, the statesmen,
the orators and the poets, who excite our wonder and admiration,
and have stamped the impress of their character not only on their own
age, but on the world's history, how different would be our judgment
in regard to them ! We behold the outside alone ; we are only made
acquainted with the histrionic, the acted part of their life. What
we see is but a masquerade, a succession of magnified and illuminated
faces passing before the disk of a magic lantern. What we wish to
see and long to know is far otherwise. Each, like Mephistopheles,
has caught up some garment best suited to his nature or his purpose,
and strives to personate {persona originally meant an actor's mask),
to seem what he is not. Could we but draw aside the coverings by
which they strive to conceal their motives, how many a sigh should
we hear escape from heroic bosoms ; how many a wail from the proud
and silent spirit ! The wounded pride of authorship gave birth to
Manfred and Don Juan. The want of bread has caused many a
Bwanlike strain to pour from the lips of the famishing author. Morft
than one Helen or Cleopatra has set the heroes of the world in mc-
VOL. I. 1*

10 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
tion. Pericles governed Athens, his wife Pericles ; the son tha
mother — the schoolmaster the son, and he in his turn — but where
would this end ? Oh the subtlety and complexity of human motives I
And yet without some tolerable insight into these, history is but
an empty cloud-castle, built of mist, and shadow, and sunbeams.
There are two kinds of history — the outward acted history, which is
false, and the inner, secret history of causes and influences ; this
alone is true and 'worth knowing, and without it we know nothing ;
it matters not how learned we may be in facts and dates. It is said
that Dr. Johnson would insult any man who began to talk to him
about the Punic wars. What does the wise man care to know about
battles or the marching and counter-marching of a multitude with
swords, and battle-axes in their hands. He wants to know the condi
tion and circumstances of the people that made war necessary ; the
train of secret causes that brought it on ; the master-spirits that con
trolled it, and the motives that influenced them. He is not dazzled by
the helmet or the martial dress, but lends a willing ear to the mur-
murings of the mad Achilles in his tent, for it is there, in those breath
ings of discontent, in those outpourings of a genuine living man, that
he hopes to find some glimmering of the truth. A little insight into
the private life of the humblest Eoman would be worth all we know
of the Punic wars, its galleys, and battles of Cannae. A mere narra
tive of events abstracted from the man who wrought them, is like the
human body when the life has gone out of it — cold, stiff, and cum
brous. All true history consists in biography. And there can be no
biography where the author does not forget the hero, and write of the
man. It is not a history of the Eevolution that we want, but the
Life of Washington. Under the influence of these opinions, we have
commenced the task of writing the Life of John Eandolph.
John Eandolph was born at Cawsons, the second day of June,
1773. The fiery star was in the ascendant at his birth, and pursued
him through life ; both as a destroying element, and a subtle Pro
methean flame consuming the soul. It is a remarkable coincidence,
that his birthplace, the cherished home of his childhood, and the
house in which he spent the first fifteen years of his manhood, Caw
sons, Matoax, and Bizzarre, were all in succession destroyed by fire.
Shortly after the destruction of Bizzarre, which was complete — in
volving his books and papers — he was asked by a friend why he did

CHILDHOOD. 11
not write something to leave behind him. " Too late, sir, toq late,"
was the reply ; " all I ever wrote perished in the flames ; it is too late
to restore it now." He felt himself to be a child of destiny ; he had
a work given him to do, but some cross fate prevented ; he failed to
fulfil his destiny, and was wretched. " My whole name and race," he
has been known to say, " lie under a curse. I am sure I feel the
curse cleaving to me." He was not two years and a half old when
his father died. What could he know of death ? He only grieved
in sympathy with his mother's tears. It was not till long after, that
he learned the value of the treasure that lay imried beneath the mar
ble slab on the hill under the old oak tree.
Much of the time of her " unhappy widowhood" was spent by
Mrs. Eandolph at Cawsons. Here the little John was always a
welcoine guest. He was a great favorite with the whole household,
especially with his grandfather and his cousin Anna Eaton, about
ten years older than himself, now the venerable Mrs. Anna Bland
Dudley, of Franklin, Tennessee. He was so delicate, reserved, and
beautiful, that he attracted the notice of all who frequented the
house. His skin was as soft and delicate as a female. " There is no
accounting for thinness of skins in different animals, human or
brute,'' says he in a letter dated January 31, 1826. "Mine I be
lieve to be more tender than many infants of a month old. Indeed,
I have remarked in myself, from my earliest recollection, a delicacy
or effeminacy of complexion, that, but for a spice of the devil in my
temper, would have consigned me to the distaff or the needle." A
spice of the devil in his temper ! Well might he say that. Before
he was four years old, Mrs. Dudley has known him to swoon away in
a fit of passion, and with difficulty could be restored : an evidence
of the extreme delicacy of his constitution, and the uncontrollable ar
dor of a temper that required a stronger frame to repress and re
strain it. Notwithstanding his excitable nature, he was always de
voted to his mother ; would hang fondly about her neck, and could
only be soothed by her caresses. Of her Mrs. Dudley thus speaks :
— " She was a woman, not only of superior personal attractions, but
excelled all others of her day in strength of intellect, for which she
was so justly celebrated." This excellent and highly gifted lady
trained up her child in the way he should go. He was allowed to
come in contact with nothing low, vulgar or mean. Mrs. Dudley,

12 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Governor Tazewell, and the Ht)n. John Talliaferro, who remember
him well in childhood, speak with admiration of his moral purity,
and entire exemption from all vicious habits. His mother early
taught him to read, and impressed on his mind the best lessons. She
was a member of the Church of England, a faith from which her son
never long departed. On her bended knees, with him by her side,
she repeated day after day the prayers and collects of that admirable
litany, which were never effaced from his tenacious memory. Often
through life has he been known, in mental agony, to ejaculate them
with an earnestness that called forth tears from all who heard him.
" When I could first remember,'' says he to a friend, " I slept in
the same bed with my widowed mother — each nigh.., before putting
me to bed, I repeated on my knees before her the Lord's Prayer and
the Apostle's Creed — each morning kneeling in the bed I put up my
little hands in prayer in the same form. Years have since passed
away ; I have been a skeptic, a professed scoffer, glorying in my infi
delity, and vain of the ingenuity with which I could defend it.
Prayer never crossed my mind, but in scorn. I am now conscious
that the lessons above mentioned, taught me by my dear and revered
mother, are of more value to me than all that I have learned from my
preceptors and compeers. On Sunday I said my catechism, a great
part of which at the distance of thirty-five years I can yet repeat."

CHAPTEE IV.
FAMILY CIRCLE.
In the autumn of 1778, the family circle at Matoax consisted of
Mr. and Mrs. Tucker, and her three sons, Eichard, Theodorick, and
John Eandolph. Eichard was in his ninth year, Theodorick was
nearly eight, and John was in the sixth year of his age. They were
all sprightly and interesting boys ; and cheerfulness was once more
restored to this happy family. A more amiable and exemplary step
father than Mr. Tucker could not be found. This trait in his char
acter was proverbial among his acquaintance every where. " I remem
ber to have heard a brother of mine," says the late Daniel Call, " who

FAMILY CIRCLE. 13
married a niece of Mrs. Eandolph of Curies, and was thus occasion
ally thrown into circles, where he sometimes met the Matoax family,
once say, that ' Mr. Tucker must be the best father-in-law in the
world, or his step-children would not be so fond of him.' " Up to
this time the boys had never been to school. All of their instruction
had been received at the hands of their mother. Mr. Tucker now
undertook their education. But it cannot be supposed that he devo
ted himself to school-keeping with the rigid discipline of a peda
gogue. The life of ease and elegance which he is known to ha've
lived, amidst literary pursuits to which he was devoted, and in the
society of wealthy and fashionable neighbors, of which he and his
accomplished lady were the chief ornament, would not justify such a
conclusion. His leisure was given to their instruction ; and he at all
times took a lively interest in their improvement. In his letters +o
Colonel Bland, Jr., who was stationed with a regiment at Charlottes
ville to guard the captured troops of Burgoyne's army, he often men
tions them, and always with great solicitude. In one dated Matoax,
July 20, 1779, not ten months after his connection with the family,
he writes : — " What you wrote about Bob (Eobert Banister, a cousin,
then with his uncle, Colonel Bland) has inspired the boys with the
spirit of emulation, which I hope will be productive of some benefit
to them. I find he serves as a very good spur to them when they are
growing a little negligent. Two of them appear to be blessed with
excellent capacities, but I confess I am afraid that the genius of your
namesake (Theodorick), though possessed of great quickness and
acuteness in many respects, does 'not lie in the literary line. * *
* * I shall continue to give them all the assistance that leisure
will permit."
John was too young and too delic.ate to be confined. We may
imagine also that, with so indulgent a teacher and so amiable a man,
having a spice of the devil withal in his own temper, he could not
have learnt much. He was not boisterous, nor inclined to the athletic
out-door sports of which boys are so fond. He sought amusements
within. When any of the boys and girls from the neighborhood
came to Matoax, he introduced the play of " Ladies and Gentlemen,"
in which each one personated some known or imagined character,
male or female, and acted as they supposed such persons would under
similar circumstances have acted. He was decidedly of a dramatic

14 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
turn. And his ardent temper and oriental imagination, precociously
developed, invested with an earnestness and a reality all the sports
and pastimes of his childhood. But he was not idle.
There was a certain closet to which he stole away and secreted
himself whenever he could. It was not redolent — that closet — of
cakes or the perfume of sweetmeats, but the odor of books, — of old
musty tomes arranged along its shelves. With a mysterious awe, — as
if about to commune with mighty spirits and beings of another
world, as he really was — ^would he close the door upon himself, and
devour, with ¦' more eagerness than gingerbread," the contents of
those old volumes. His mind, young as he was. craved after ethereal
food, and there he found the richest repast.
The first book that fell in his way was Voltaire's History of
Charles XII. of Sweden. An admirable writer on education has
said, that "whatever the young have to read ^ ought to be objective,
clear, simple, and precise ; ought to be the thing itself, and not round
about dialogues abotit the thing.'' No book could fill this description
more completely than the above-mentioned History — full of stirring
incidents, with a style of simple narrative as rapid and perspicuous
as that master of style could make it. How his young heart must
have burned within him as he pursued the eventful career of the
bold, reckless and indomitable Charles ! Feeling the impulses of a
kindred spirit, his sympathy must have been intense for the wild,
stout-hearted Scandinavian. The next book he read was the Specta
tor ; but only the narrative and dramatic parts as we might suppose.
The young mind can only be interested in things, objects, and not in
roundabout dialogues about things. He delighted in Humphrey
Clinker — Eeynard the Fox came next ; then Tales of the Genii and
Arabian Nights. What a field of delight was opened here — what a
world^of glory in those old tales of wonder, the genuine poetry for
children ! The Arabian Nights and Shakspeare were his idols. He
had read Goldsmith's Roman History, and an old History of Brad
dock's War. When not eight years old, he used to sing an old ballad
of his defeat :
" On the sixth day of July, in the year sixty-five,
At two in the morning did our forces arrive ;
When the French and the Indians in ambush did lay.
And there was great slaughter of our forces that day."

FAMILY CIRCLE. I5
But the " Thousand and One Tales" and Shakspeare were his
idols ! All others were in a sense shallow and limited — ^had bounds
that could be measured — ^but these were fathomless, boundless ;
opening up to the rapt vision a world of enchantment, ever varying.
ever new. He was a poet, a born poet, nascitur non Jit. He did
not write poetry ; but he spoke it, he felt it, he lived it. His whole
life was a poem, of the genuine epic sort ; sad, mour'^ful, tru<5.
" For poetry,'' says he, " I have had a decided taste from my child
hood ; this taste I have sedulously cultivated." Lee that eld closet
tell ! Only think of the boy who had read the books we have cited,
and Don Quixotte, Gil Bias, Quintus Curtius, Plutarch, Pope's Ho
mer, Robinson Crusoe, Gulliver, Tom Jones, Orlando Furioso, and
Thomson's Seasons, before he was eleven years of age !
For more than two years the old closet was to that young genius
the cave of Aladdin : and those old tomes the magic lamp by whose
aid he could summon to his presence the giants and the genii, the
dwarfs and the fairies, the Calibans and the Mirandas, and all the
wonderful creations of fancy and imagination. With the clear, open
sense and loving heart of childhood, he devoured those narrations
and tales, which as he grew up became the themes of reflection, the
objects of his aptest illustrations, and the sources whence he drew his
lessons of profoundest wisdom. What a force of illustration, and
even of argument, is found in his beautiful allusions to the marriage
of Sinbad the Sailor to the corpse of his wife ; the Old Man of the
Sea ; and the Vision of Alnascar ! As to Shakspeare, he was so tho
roughly imbued with his spirit, his own genius so akin to the Avon
bard, that he thought and spoke as Shakspeare in his station would
have thought and spoken. ,^
He lamented in after life his rambling way of reading. But it
could not have been otherwise. He belonged to the irritabile genus
— was a born poet, and could not brook the restraint or the gin-horse
routine of a grammar school. " I have been all my life,'' says he,
" the creature of impulse, the sport of chance, the victim of my own
uncontrolled and uncontrollable sensations ; of a poetic temperament.
I admire and pity all who possess this temperament " Poor fellow !
What could mother or step-father do with such a thin-skinned, sensi
tive, impulsive, imaginative boy ? With his fits of passion and swoon
ing, what could they do ? Nature is her own best guide. Develope

16 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
nature according to her own instincts, and the best has been done that
the case will admit of So thought the kind parents of this delicate
boy. They put no restraint upon him. Gentleness and tender care
followed all his footsteps. He was suffered to roam freely crer the
hills and by the waterfalls of Appomatox. The quiet sport of angling
was his chief source of amusement. When tired, he stole away into the
closet, and none took heed of him. In this happy, ever-remembered
dream of childhood, two years and a half passed away. Christmas,
in the year seventeen hundred and eighty, was destined to be the
last Christmas he would ever spend at Matoax as his home — as his
home and dwelling-place.

CHAPTEE V.
FLIGHT FEOM MATOAX.
The new year seventeen hundred and eighty-one commenced with
the invasion of Virginia by the traitor Arnold. He had been
intrusted with an expedition to that province, not with the hope of
conquest, or with the expectation of achieving any important mili
tary enterprise, but solely for the purpose of plunder and devasta
tion. What the proud soldier scorned to do was fit work for the
betrayer of his country. The name of Arnold, before it became a
by-word of reproach, was a sound of terror, not to armed men, but to
lofenceless women and children. The fame of his rapine and
murder in his native State had preceded his arrival in Virginia.
On the 3d of January, it was rumored at Matoax that the enemy
were coming up James river, and that they were destined for Peters-
J)urg or Richmond. Mrs. Tucker had then been but five days
mother to her last child, the present eminent jurist. Judge Henry
St. George Tucker, of the University. " The first time I ever saw
that gentleman," said John Randolph once in a speech, " we were
trying to get out of the way of the British.'' The enemy that night
landed at Hood's, of which being apprised early next morning, and
hearing that they had marched as far as Bland's Ordinary, in their

FLIGHT FROM MATOAX. 17
way to Petersburg, Mr. Tucker came to the conclusion, whatever
might be the consequence, to remove his family out of the way of
danger, if possible. Hasty preparations were ordered for their
immediate departure. What bustle and confusion that frosty morn
ing reigned through the halls at Matoax — each hurrying into trunks
or boxes, or loaded wagons, such articles as to them seemed moat
valuable, heaping imprecations at the same time on that new name
of dread, Benedict Arnold. Whether John stole into the old closet
for the last time, and took out such volumes as pleased him, we are
not informed. Early next morning, the 5th of January, Syphax
drove off with the mother and her child ; Essex and the boys
brought up the rear ; and in a few hours Matoax, solitary and alone,
with all its effects, was abandoned to its fate. Mrs. Tucker met
with a most kind and hospitable reception at the house of Mr. Ben.
Ward, Jun'r, at Wintopoke : an ominous name in conjunction with
that of John Randolph. It was the daughter of this gentleman
to whom in after years he became so much attached. The un-
smooth current of their loves (as all true love is) greatly affected his
sensitive nature, and had no little influence on the most important
events of his life. Those children, when they first met together
around the fireside at Wintopoke, and joined in the innocent plajis
of childhood, how unconscious were they of the deep drama of life
in which they were destined to play so sad a part ! After recruiting
her health and strength a few days, which had been somewhat im
paired by fatigue and hurry of spirits, Mrs. Tucker pursued her
journey to Bizarre, a large and valuable estate on both sides of the
Appomatox, where she and the boys were destined to spend alone
the remainder of this stirring and eventful year. So soon as his
family were in a place of safety, Mr. Tucker hastened back to the
scene of action to assist old Col. Bland in his escape, and to secure
such property, belonging to himself and friends, as had not been
destroyed by the enemy. This done, he threw himself at the head
of the Chesterfield regiment of militia and joined General Greene,
then manoeuvring before Cornwallis's army on the borders of North
Carolina and Virginia. He was at the battle of Guilford, which
took place the 8th of March, where he behaved very gallantly.
When Gen. Greene marched into South Carolina after this engage
ment, he returned to Virginia, spent a few weeks with his family at

,13 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Bizarre, then joined General La Fayette, with whom he continued
till the capture of Cornwallis, the 19th of October, at Yorktown.
Notwithstanding his active participation in the military opera
tions of that period, his solicitude for the education of the boys
was unabated. From Bizarre, May the 23d, he wrote to Colonel
Bland : " Lose no opportumty of procuring a tutor for the boys,
for the exigency is greater than you can imagine." Again, from
Richmond, July 17th, he writes on the same subject; and then
from Williamsburg, amidst the active preparations for that great
event which was to end the war, and secure the inSependence of the
country. In a letter dated Williamsburg, Sept. 21st, he says:
" The boys are still without, and more than ever in want, of a' tutor.
Walker Maury has written to me lately, and given me such a plan
of his school, that unless you procure a tutor before Christmas, I
would at all events advise sending them to him immediately after.
I know his worth ; I know that his abilities are equal to the task ;
and I know that his assiduity will be equally directed to improve
their morals and their understandings, as their manners. With this
prospect, I would not advise the providing any but a man of superior
talents as a private tutor." The year '81 was full of stirring life to
the men, but of idleness to the boys ; yet we are not to suppose that
because the young Randolphs had not the benefit of a tutor to teach
them the Latin and Greek languages, they were entirely destitute of
instruction : with such a mother as they were blessed, they could
not grow up in vice or idleness. Her sprightly wit, sound judgment,
good temper, and pious example, impressed their character more
favorably than all the learning of the schools. Her precepts were law
to their plastic minds ; and they ever afterwards retained a lively recol
lection of their wisdom and truth. When riding over the vast Eoa
noke estates one day, she took John up behind her, and, waving her
hand over the broad acres spread before them, she said : " Johnny,
all this land belongs to you and your brother Theodorick ; it is your
father's inheritance. When you get to be a man you must not
sell your land ; it is the first step to ruin for a boy to part
with his father's home : be sure to keep it as long as you live.
Keep your land and your land will keep you.'' In relating this
anecdote, Mr. Eandolph said it made such an impression on his
mind that it governed his future life. Ho was confident it saved

FLIGHT FROM MATOAX. 19
him from many errors. He never did part from his father's home.
His attachment to the soil, the old English law of inheritance, and a
landed aristocracy (we have no other word to express our meaning),
constituted the most remarkable trait in his character. The Vir
ginia law of descents, framed by Pendleton, Wythe, and Jefferson,
never found favor in his eyes. While descanting on its evils, he has
been heard to say, " Well might old George Mason exclaim, that the
authors of that law never had a son !" In a letter addressed to a
friend at a very late period of life, he says : " The old families of
Virginia will form connections with low people, and ?ink into the mass
of overseers' sons and daughters ; and this is the legitimate, nay,
inevitable conclusion to which Mr. Jefferson and liis levelling system
Las brought us. They know better in New-York, and they feel the
good effects of not disturbing the rights of property. The patroon is
as secure in his rents as any man in the community. The great
manor of Philipsburg was scandalously confiscated, and the Living
stons have lost their infiuence by subdivision. Every now and then
bur old acquaintance. Burr, finds out some flaw in the titles of the
usurpers, and a fine estate is restored to its legitimate owners." In
this passage the reader will find " the key words," to use his own
expression, that decipher every thing in the character of John Ean
dolph. The subdivision or alienation of his father's inheritance was a
subject he could not contemplate. Like Logan, he was alone — all
alone — and no one of his father's house after him to inherit his
father's home ; hence the apparent inconsistency in the disposition of
his estates, the facility with which he made and unmade wills — ^in
short, the monomania with which he was charged on the subject of
property.

20 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
CHAPTEE VI.
AT SCHOOL.
After Christmas the boys were sent to Walker Maury's school
in Orange county. Before he was nine years of age, John was
separated from the brooding watchfulness of a devoted mother, and
exposed to the dangers, evil examples, and vices of a public sohool
Tender and lelicate as a female, he was forced out on the society of
ruder boys, to endure or to resist ^s he might their kicks, cuffs, and
bruises. Early did he begin among his equals to learn that personal
merit is of more avail than birth or riches ; and that truth, fortitude,
and courage, are more to be valued than much learning.
At the school in Orange, the young Eandolphs remained until
about the middle of October, 1782, when it was broken up, and Mr.
Maury removed to the city of Williamsburg.
He had been invited to that place to establish a Grammar School
as an appendage to William and Mary College, in which there was
no professorship of Humanity existing at that time. The school was
regulated most judiciously ; and was soon attended by more pupils
than any other Grammar School that had been before established qp
has since existed in Virginia. More than one hundred, at one time,
were in attendance, including boys from every State in the Union,
from Georgia to Masyland, both inclusive. Such a number of pupils
made it necessary that they should be divided into classes. The
greater proportion of these classes were consigned to assistants, of
whom there were four. Soon after Mr. Maury was established in
Williamsburg, the young Eandolphs followed him there, and again
became members of his school. Eichard, the eldest, was placed in
the second class, under the immediate direction of Mr. Maury himself
Theodorick and John were placed in the fourth class, which was the
head class assigned to the superintendence of the cbief usher, a Mr.
Elliot. When the class was so augmented, it was reading, and had
nearly finished, Eutropius. One of the books then used by a class
mate, with a class-rbll written on the fly-leaf, is still extant. In a
short time after the young Randolphs joined it, the «lass had made

AT SCHOOL. 21
such progress that it was transferred from the usher's department to
that of the principal. It then became the third class. While John
Randolph continued a member of it, which was more than a year, it
was engaged in reading Sallust and Virgil, and had made some
progress in learning the Greek and French languages, and the ele
ments of Geometry. Though he complained of having learned but
little at this school, his attainments for the short time he was con
nected with it must have been very considerable. While there he
learned to repeat the Westminster Greek Grammar by heart, a.8 he
could the alphabet.
It was around the base of Lord Bottetourt's statue, in the old
Capitol, the great clock, now removed to the church in Williamsburg,
vibrating overhead, that he committed his lessons to memory. His
attainment in Latin also must have been considerable. The boys
were in the habit of acting plays in the original language from Plau
tus and Terrence. He was always selected to perform the female
parts. His feminine appearance, and the " spice of the devil in his
temper," rendered him peculiarly fitted for that purpose, and his
performance was admirable. One who remembers his personal
appearance at that time, in speaking of him, lifted up both hands,
and exclaimed, " he was the most beautiful boy I ever beheld !" He
was, indeed, the admiration of all who saw him, was a great favorite
with the ladies, but his proud temper and reserved manners prevented
him from forming any intimate associations with his school-fellows.
Though a promiscuous intercourse was repugnant to his feelings, no
one was capable of appreciating true merit, and of forming closer,
more unreserved, warmer, and lasting attachnlents than John Ran
dolph. Shunning vulgar society and repelling familiarity, he waa
the more open and devoted to those who were honored with his friend
ship. He had a natural instinct for discovering character ; and was
remarkable in earliest youth for his discernment and scrutiny into
motives. Among the hundreds of boys with whom he came in daily con
tact, he associated with, and formed an attachment to, one class-mate
alone. That class-mate was Littleton Waller Tazewell. With a
genius as brilliant as his own, a heart as warm, and a person as pre
possessing, young Tazewell was worthy of the distinction. A mutual
respect and friendship grew up between them, which lasted to the end

22 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
of Mr. Randolph's life ; and the recollection of which is still warmly
preserved by the noble survivor In a manner peculiar to John
Randolph, this early attachment was often called to remembrance,
and cherished. Near forty years afterwards, when he had heard a
lady sing some Scotch airs, he wrote to a friend : " Among others she
sang ' There's nae luck aboot the house' very well, and ' Auld Lang
Syne.' When she came to the lines :
' We twa ha'e paidlet in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine/
I cast my mind's eye around for such a " trusty feese," and could light
only on Tazewell (who, God be praised, is here), and you may judge
how we met."
In the spring of 1784, after he had been in Williamsburg a little
more than one year, John Randolph was taken away from school.
His parents went on a visit to Mr. Tucker's friends in the island of
Bermuda, and as John's health was very delicate, they took him along
with them. When about to take his leave, he proposed to young
Tazewell that they should exchange class-books, that each might have
some testimonial of their mutual friendship and of its origin.
They accordingly exchanged Sallusts. Not many years since,
while he was in Norfolk, preparing to depart on his mission to Rus
sia, he showed Mr. Tazewell the identical Sallust he (Tazewell) had
given him. On the fly-leaf of the book he had written, at the time
he received it, how; when, and from whom he had acquired it. To
this he had added t^is hexameter : " Coelum non 'animum mutant
qui transmare currunt."
He continued abroad more than eighteen months, and not having
the advai\tage of daily recitation, the Greek language, which he had
begun so successfully to acquire in his promenades around Lord
Bottetourt's statue, was entirely effaced from his memory ; and he
barely kept alive the more extensive knowledge be had acquired of
the Latin. Though these newly acquired elements of learning were
readily abandoned, and easily effaced, pursuits more genial to hia
taste were followed with unabated vigor. Poetry continued to be the
charm of his life. While abroad, he read Chatterton and Rowley, and
Young and Gay. Percy's Reliques and Chaucer then became his
great favorites. On his return to Virginia, in the latter part of 1 785

AT SCHOOL. 23
we do not learn that he returned to Walker Mauray's school in
Williamsburg ; on the contrary, we presume he did not, for he then
would have formed an acquaintance in early youth with John
Brockenbrough, the most intimate friend of his after life.
The letter from which the above paragraph was taken continues
in this wise ; " During the time that Dr. Brockenbrough was at
Walter Mauray's school (from the spring of 1784, to the end of
1785), I was in Bermuda; and (although he was well acquainted
with both my brothers) our acquaintance did not begin until nearly
twenty years afterwards. Do you know that I am childish enough
to regret this very sensibly ? for, although I cannot detract from the
esteem or regard in which I hold him, or lessen the value I set upon
his friendship, yet, had I known him then, I think I should enjoy
' Auld Lang Syne ' more, when I hear it sung, or hum it to myself,
as I often do."
How he spent the next twelve or eighteen months after his re
turn from Bermuda, we have not been able to learn. When we
see him again it is at Princeton College, in the autumn of 1787. The
manner in which he spent his time there and at Columbia College,
New-York, shall be given in his own words.
" My mother once expressed a wish to me, that I might one day
or other be as great a speaker as Jerman Baker or Edmund Ran
dolph ! That gave the bent to my disposition. At Princeton Col
lege, where I spent a few months (1787/), the prize of elocution was
borne away by mouthers and ranters. I never would speak if I
could possibly avoid it, and when I could not, repeated, without ges
ture, the shortest piece that I had committed to memory. I remem
ber some verses from Pope, and the flrst anonymous letter from
Newberg, made up the sum and substance of my spoutings, and I
can yet repeat much of the first epistle (to Lord Chatham) of the
former, and a good deal of the latter. I was then as conscious of my
superiority over my competitors in delivery and elocution, as I am
now that they are sunk in oblivion ; and I despised the award and
the umpires in the bottom of my heart. I believe that there is no
where such foul play as among professors and schoolmasters ; more
especially if they are priests. I have had a contempt for college
honors ever since.
My mother's death drew me from Princeton, (where I had been

24 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
forced to be idle, being put into a noisy wretched grammar school
for Dr. Witherspoon's emolument : I was ten times a better scholar
than the master of it,) and in June, 1788, I was sent to Columbia
College, New- York ; just then having completed my fifteenth year.
Never did higher literary ambition burn in human bosom. Colum
bia College, New-York, was just rising out of chaos ; but there was
an Irishman named Cochran, who was our humanity professor.
I now (July, 1788) mastered the Eaton grammar, and gave Coch
ran, who was a scholar, " and a ripe and good one," a half-joe, out of
my own pocket, for months, to give me private lessons. We read
Demosthenes together, and I used to cry for indignation at the suc
cess of Philip's arts and arms over the liberties of Greece. But
some disgust induced my master to remove to Nova Scotia, where a
professor's chair was offered him, about three months after I Became
his pupil. Next to the loss of my mother, and my being sent to
Walker Mauray's school (and one other that I shall not name), this
was the greatest misfortune of my life.
" Unhappily, my poor brother Theodorick, who was two years older
than myself, had a strong aversion to books and a decided taste for
pleasure. Often when I had retreated from him and his convivial
associates to my little study, has he forced the lock, taken away my
book, and rendered further prosecution of my purpose impossible.
From that time forward I began to neglect study (Cochran left no
one but Dr. Johnson, the president, of any capacity behind him, and
he was in the Senate of the United States from March, 1789), read
only the trash of the circulating library, and never have read since,
except for amusement, unless for a few weeks at Williamsburg at
the close of 1793 ; and all my dear mother's fond anticipations and
all my own noble and generous aspirations have been quenched ;
and if not entirely — if a single spark or languid flame yet burns — it
is owing to my accidental election to Congress five and twenty yearb
ago." He was recalled from Princeton by the death of his mother.
That sad event took place the 18th of January, 1788. She was but
thirty-six years old when she died. Cut off in the bloom of youth
and beauty, he ever retained a most vivid and impassioned remem
brance of her person, her charms, and her virtues. He always kept
her portrait hanging before him in his chamber. Though he was

AT SCHOOL. 25
not yet fifteen years old, the loss to him was irreparable. She knew
him ; she knew the delicacy of his frame, the tenderness of his heart,
the irritability of his temper ; and she alone could sympathize with
him, Many years after this event — the day after his duel with Mr.
Clay — while reflecting on the narrow escape he had made with his
life, and the professions of men who disappear in such an hour ot
trial, his mind naturally reverted to his dear mother, who. understood
and never forsook him ; he wrote thus to a friend : " I am a fatalist.
I am all but friendless. Only one human being ever knew me. She
only knew me." That human being was his mother ! The lots to
him was irreparable ; nor did he ever cease to mourn over it. Rarely
did he come to Petersburg or its vicinity, that he did not visit old
Matoax, in its wasted solitude, and shed tears over the grave of those
honored parents, by whose side it was the last wish of his heart to
be buried. The spring of the year 1788 was spent in Virginia. It does not
appear that he was engaged in any regular course of study. Much
of his time, as was his custom whenever he could, was devoted to
friendship. He spent several weeks of this vacation with young
Tazewell, at his father's house, in Williamsburg. While there, he
discoursed at large on the various incidents he had met with while
abroad in Bermuda, and at college in Princeton, thus early display
ing that faculty of observation and fluent narrative that in after
years rendered his conversation so brilliant and captivating. After
his departure on the present occasion, he commenced a correspond
ence, which, with short intervals, was kffpt up through life. Such
was Mr. Tazewell's reputation for profound learning on all subjects
touching the laws and the Constitution of the country, that Mr.
Randolph consulted him on every important occasion as it arose in
Congress. Often in one line would he propound an inquiry that cost
his friend weeks of investigation to answer. His own early letters
displayed an inquiring mind far beyond his years. In his first let
ter, written on his arrival in New- York (June, 1788), he stated that
alien duties had been exacted by the custom-house there, not only
upon the vessel in which he had taken his passage, which was owned
in Virginia, but upon the passengers on board of her, all of whom
were natives of Virginia. This statement was accompanied by many
reflections, designed to show the impolicy of such exactions on the
VOL. ;. 2

26 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
part of New- York, and the ill effects that would result from persist
ing in such a course. This incident took place before the adoption
of the present Constitution of the United States, and when the sub
ject of it was just fifteen years old. It is mentioned merely to show
" the precocious proclivity" of John Eandolph to the investigation of
political subjects.
Another .letter addressed to the same friend, was confined to an
account of the first inauguration of General Washington as President
of the United States, which took place the 30th of April, 1789, in
the city of New- York. John Randolph was an ,tye-witness of the
scene. His letter contained a narrative of many minute but very
interesting incidents that do not appear in any of our public records
or histories. This narrative, being written at the moment such inci
dents occurred, by an ingenuous youth, an eye-witness of the events,
had an air of freshness and truthfulness about it that was most cap
tivating. As the letter related to nothing but matters of general
interest, young Tazewell showed it to his father, who was so much
'leased with it, that shortly afterwards he requested his son to read
it to a party of friends who were dining with him. The late Colonel
James Innis, the attorney-general, was one of the party. He was
considered, at that time, the most eloquent speaker, and the best belles-
lettres scholar in Virginia. Colonel Innis was so much pleased with
the letter, that he took it from the hands of the owner, and read it
over and over again, pronouncing it to be a model of such writing,
and recommended to the young man to preserve it, and study its style.

CHAPTEE VII.
THE CONSTITtJTION IN ITS CHRYSALIS STATE.
No man with a growing intellect was ever content with his early
education. The boy turns a contemptuous look on the swaddlings of
infancy. The wisest instruction is so inadequate to the wants of the
human mind, that when one grows up to manhood he looksback with
mortification on the dark gropings of youthful ignorance, and with

THE CONSTITUTION IN ITS CHRYSALIS STATE. 27
disgust on the time and effort wasted in pursuing barren paths,
where experience taught him no truth could be found. John Ran
dolph w^s not singular in lamenting that he had disappointed the
fond anticipations of his friends, and mourning that " all his noble
and generous aspirations had been quenched." Had Theodorick
and his noisy companions left the ambitious student alone to his
books and his closet, we should still have heard the same complaint.
No attainment can satisfy the aspirations of genius. But it is true
he was not without just cause of discontent. His frequent changes
of school, not less than five times in as many years ; the long inter
ruptions thereby occasioned — by his travels abroad, the death of his
mother, and the daily vexations of ill health and of noisy companions,
with whom he was compelled to associate — rendered it impossible for
him to give that continuous and ardent devotion to study which is
indispensable to mental discipline, and the acquisition of learning.
In disgust he gave up the effort, and abandoned himself to the loose
habit of promiscuous reading. His classical studies, so often inter
rupted, were finally closed before he was sixteen years of age. " I
am an ignorant man, sir !" though sounding like sarcasm from his
lips, was uttered with sincerity. Though the broad foundation of
solid learning was wanting to him, his active and inquiring mind
was scarcely conscious of the deficiency. Nature had designed him
for a statesman ; he was eminently a practical man, and drew his
lessons of wisdom from experience and observation. He was, while
yet a youth, in daily intercourse with statesmen and men of learning.
He enjoyed great and rare opportunities for acquiring information on
those subjects towards which his mind had " a precocious pro
clivity." Practical politics, and the science of government, were the
daily themes of the statesmen with whom he associated. He was a
constant attendant on the sittings of the first Congress. He was in
Federal Hall, the 4th of March, 1789, when only thirteen members
of the new Congress under our present Constitution appeared and
took their seats. Two only prjesented themselves from the south
side of the Potomac ; Alexander White, from Virginia, and Thomas
Tudor Tucker, from South Carolina. Mr. Tucker was the brother
of St, George Tucker, the father-in-law of John Randolph. The
14th of March, Richard Bland Lee, a cousin of John Randolph,
Mr. Madison, and John Page, from Virginia, entered the hall, and

28 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
cheered the hearts of those who had assembled from day to day foi
more than a week without a quorum, and were beginning to despond
and doubt lest this new government might prove a failure. The 30th
of March, Col. Theodorick Bland, the uncle of John Randolph,
made his appearance. It was not till the 1st of April, nearly a
month after the time appointed by the Constitution, that a quorum
was obtained, and the House organized for business. Such was the
feeble and doubtful infancy of this great and growing Eepublic. " I was
at Federal Hall," said Eandolph once in a speech to his constituents ;
" I saw Washington, but could not hear him take the oath to support
the FedeBal Constitution. The Constitution was in its chrysalis
state, I saw what Washington did not see ; but two other men in
Virginia saw it — George Mason and Patrick Henry — the poison
under its loings." That this was no vain boasting in a boy cf six
teen, the reader will soon see.
The arduous and responsible task of organizing a new govern
ment devolved on the first Congress. In that body were a number
of men who preferred the Old Confederation, with some modifica
tions to give it energy ; and were strenuously opposed to a strong
centralizing system, such as they apprehended the new government
to be. They, therefore, looked with watchfulness and jealousy on
every step that was taken in its organization. The most prominent
among those who thus early opposed the assumptions of federal
power, were Theodorick Bland and Thomas Tudor Tucker, the two
uncles of John Eandolph, Col. Bland was a great admirer and fol
lower of Patrick Henry. He was a member of the Convention that
met, June, 1788, in Eichmond, to ratify the new Constitution. It is
well known that Patrick Henry opposed the ratification with all
his eloquence. The very day in which he shook the capitol with a
power not inferior to that with which he set the ball of Eevolution
in motion. Col. Bland, writing to a friend, says : " I see my country
on the point of embarking and launching into a troubled ocean,
without chart or compass, to direct her ; one half of her crew hoist
ing sail for the land of mergy, and the other looking with a longing
aspect on the shore of liierty." After declaring that the Conven
tion which framed the Constitution had transcended its, powers
Patrick Henry exclaimed : ' It is most clearly a consolidated gov
ernment. I need not take much pains to show that the principles of

THE CONSTITUTION IN ITS CHRYSALIS STATE. 29
this system are extremely pernicious, impolitic, and dangerous. We
have no detail of those great considerations which, in my opinion,
ought to have abounded before we should recur to a government of
this kind. Here is a revolution as radical as that which separated
us from Great Britain. It is as radical, if in this transition our
rights and privileges are endangered, and the sovereignty of the
States be relinquished : and cannot we plainly see that this is actu
ally the case ? Is this tame relinquishment of rights worthy of free
men ? Is it worthy of that manly fortitude that ought to charac
terize republicans ? The Confederation — this same despised gov
ernment — merits, in my opinion, the highest encomium : it carried
us through a long and dangerous war ; it rendered us victorious in
that bloody conflict with a powerful nation ; it has secured us a
territory greater than any European monarch possesses : and shall a
government which has been thus strong and vigorous, be accused
of imbecility, and abandoned for want of energy ? Consider what
you are about to do before you part with this government." " It is
now confessed that the new government is national. There is not a
single federal feature in it. It has been alleged within these walls,
during the debates, to be national and federal, as it suited the argu
ments of gentlemen. But now when we have the definition of it, it
is purely national. The honorable member was pleased to say, that
the sword and purse included every thing of consequence. And
shall we trust them out of our hands without checks and barriers ?
The sword and purse are essentially necessary for the government.
Every essential requisite must be in Congress. Where are the
purse and sword of Virginia ? They must go to Congress. What is
become of your country? The Virginian government is but a
name. We should be thought unwise indeed to keep two hundred
legislators in Virginia, wben the government is, in fact, gone to
Philadelphia, or New- York. We are as a State to form no part of
the government. Where are your checks ? The most essential
objects of government are to be administered by Congress. How
then can the State governments be any check upon them ? If we
are to be a republican government, it will be consolidated, not con
federated. This is not imaginary ; it is a formidable reality. If
consolidation proves to be as mischievous to this country as it has
been to other countries, what will the poor inhabitants of this

30 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH,
country do ? This government will operate like an ambuscade. ll
will destroy the State governments, and swallow the liberties of the
people, without giving them previous notice. If gentlemen are
willing to run the hazard, let them run it ; but I shall exculpate
myself by my opposition, and monitory warnings, within these walls.
Another gentleman tells us that no inconvenience will result from
the exercise of the power of taxation by the general government,
A change of government will not pay money. If from the probable
amount of the import, you take the enormous and extravagant
expenses, which will certainly attend the support of this great con
solidated government, I believe you will find no reduction of the
public burdens by this new system. The splendid maintenance c f
the President, and of the members of both Houses ; and the salaries
and fees for the swarm of officers and dependents on the Govern
ment, will cost this continent immense sums. After satisfying their
uncontrolled demands, what can be left for the States? Not a
sufficiency even to defray the expense of their internal administra
tion. They must, therefore, glide imperceptibly and gradually out
of existence. This, Sir, must naturally terminate in a consolidation.
If this will do for other people, it will never do for me. I never
will give up that darling word requisition ; my country may give it
up ; a majority may wrest it from me ; but I never will give it up
till my grave. The power of direct taxation was called by the
honorable gentleman the soul of the government : another gentle
man called it the lungs of the government. We all agree that it is
the most important part of the body politic. If the power of raising
money be necessary for the general government, it is no less so for
the States. Must I give my soul — my lungs to Congress ? Con
gress must have our souls ; the State must have our souls. These
two co-ordinate, interfering, unlimited powers of harassing the com
munity are unexampled ; it is unprecedented in history ; they are
the visionary projects of modern politicians. Tell me not of imagi
nary means, but of reality : this political solecism will never tend to
the benefit of the community. It will be as oppressive in practice
as it is absurd in theory. If you part from this, which the honor
able gentleman tells you is the soul of Congress, you will be inevita-
bly ruined. I tell you they shall not have the soul of Virginia."
After speaking of the " awful squinting towards monarchy" in the

THE CONSTITUTION IN ITS CHRYSALIS STATE. gj
executive ; and of the great powers conferred on the judiciary, Mr.
Henry concluded in one of those bursts of rapt eloquence, which
can only be compared to the eloquence of Demosthenes, when on a
similar occasion — ^in a last appeal to his countrymen to defend them
selves against the invasion of Philip — he called on the spirits of the
mighty dead, those who fell at Thermopylae, at Salamis, and at Ma
rathon, to rise and protect their country against the arts and arms
of the Macedonian Tyrant.
" The gentleman, tells you,- -laid Mr. Henry, " of important
blessings which he imagines will result to us, and to mankind in gene
ral, from the adoption of this system. I see the awful immensity of
the dangers with which it is pregnant. I see it, — I feel it. I see
beings of a far higher order anxious concerning our decision. When
I see beyond the horizon that bounds human eyes,* and look at the
final consummation of all human things, and see those intelligent
beings which inhabit the ethereal mansions, reviewing the political
divisions and revolutions which in the progress of time will happen in
America, and the consequent happiness or misery of mankind, I am led
to believe, that much of the account, on one side or the other, will de
pend on what we now decide. Our own happiness alone is not affected
by the event. All nations are interested in the determination. We
have it in our power to secure the happiness of one half of the human
race. Its adoption may involve the misery of the other hemispheres."
When the vote was about to be taken on the ratification, Patrick
Henry, seconded by Theodorick Bland, moved a resolution, " That
previous to the ratification of the new constitution of government
recommended by the late Federal Convention, a declaration of rights
asserting and securing from encroachment the great principles of
civil and religious liberty, and the inalienable rights of the people,
together with amendments to the most exceptionable parts of the
said constitution of government, ought to be referred by this con
vention to the other States in the American confederacy for their
consideration." This resolution was lost by a majority of eight votes.
Many who voted for it were members of the first Congress ; and
some of 'them were among the most influential and distinguished
men in Virginia. William Cabell, Samuel Jordan Cabell, Benjamin
Harrison, John Tyler, father of the late President, Isaac Coles,
Stephen Thompson Mason, Abraham Twigg, Patrick Henry, Theo-

82 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
dorick Bland, William Grayson, James Monroe, and George Mason
These same persons voted against the adoption of the Constitution,
which was only carried by a majority of ten. So great was the im
pression made on the public mind by the arguments in the Conven
tion against the evil tendencies of the Constitution, that a majority
of the Virginia Legislature that met the ensuing October, to appoint
senators, and pass laws for electing members of Congress, was de
cidedly anti-federal ; that is, opposed to the Constitution, as it came
from the hands of its framers, without important modifications.
Patrick Henry was the master spirit of that assembly. He was
offered a seat in the Senate of the United States ; but he declined it,
as he had previously declined a seat in the Federal Convention.
Through his influence the appointment of senator was conferred on
William Grayson, and on Eichard Henry Lee.
Mr Grayson distinguished himself in the Virginia Convention
by a very elaborate analysis of the new Constitution, pointing
out its defects, and illustrating by history its dangerous tendencies
He gave utterance to a prediction, which many believe has been
in the daily process of fulfilment from that time to the present
moment. " But my greatest objection is," says he, speaking of
the Constitution, "that it will, in its operation, be found un
equal, grievous, and oppressive. If it have any efficacy at all, it
must be by a faction — a faction of one part of the Union against
the other. There is a great difference of circumstances between the
States. The interest of the carrying States (since manufacturing
States) is strikingly different from that of the producing States. I
mean not to give offence to any part of America, but mankind are
governed by interest. The carrying States will assuredly unite, and
our situation will then be wretched indeed. Every measure will
have for its object their particular interest. Let ill-fated Ireland be
ever present to our view. I hope that my fears are groundless, but
I believe it as I do my creed, that this government will operate as
a faction of seven States to oppress the rest of the Union. But it
may be said, that we are represented, and cannot therefore he in
jured — a poor representation it will be ! The British would have
been glad to take America into the Union like the Scotch, by giving
us a small representation. The Irish might be indulged with the
same favor by asking for it. (As they have done, and with what

THE CONSTITUTION IN ITS CHRYSALIS STATE. 33
result ?) Will that lessen our misfortunes ? A small representation
gives a pretence to injure and destroy. But, sir, the Scotch Union
is introduced by an honorable gentleman as an argument in favor of
adoption. Would he wish his country to be on the same foundation
with Scotland ? They have but 45 members in the House of Com
mons, and 16 in the House of Lords, They go up regularly in order
to be bribed. The smallness of their number puts it out of their
power to carry any measure. And this unhappy nation exhibits the
only instance, perhaps, in the world, where corruption becomes s
virtue. I devoutly pray, that this description of Scotland may not
be picturesque of the Southern States, in three years from this time."
The other senator from Virginia was Eichard Henry Lee. He
stood by Patrick Henry from the commencement of our revolutionary
struggles to their end. He was one of the first delegates to the first
Congress. His name appears on almost all the important committees
of that body. He was selected by the Virginia delegation to move
the declaration of independence. For his patriotism, statesmanship,
and oratory, he was regarded as the Cicero of his age. His classical
and chaste elocution possessed a tone of depth and inspiration that
charmed his auditory. While his great compatriot poured down
upon agitated assemblies a cataract of mingled passion and logic, he
awakened the attention, captivated the heart, and convinced the un
derstanding of his hearers by a regulated flow of harmonious lan
guage, generous sentiment, and lucid argument. " In his personal
character, he was just, benevolent, and high-spirited, domestic in his
tastes, and too proud to be ambitious of popularity." This distin
guished patriot and statesman was strenuously opposed to the Con
stitution as it came from the hands of its framers. He was a member
of Congress to whom it was referred, and by whom it was expected
to be recommended to their respective States. " When the plan of a
Constitution," says Mr. Madison, " proposed by the Convention came
before Congress for their sanction, a very serious effort was made by
Eichard Henry Lee to embarrass it. It was first contended thait.
Congress could not properly give any positive countenance to a measure
which had for its object the subversion of the Constitution under
which they acted. This ground of attack failing, he then urged the
expediency of sending out the plan with amendments, and proposed
a number o'f them corresponding with the objections of Col, Mason."
VOL, I. 2*

34 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
He then addressed a letter to Governor Edmund Eandolph, of Vir
ginia, who as a member of the Convention had refused to sign the
Constitution. After giving his objections in detail, he says : " You are,
therefore, sir, well warranted in saying, either a monarchy or aristoc
racy will be generated — ^perhaps the most grievous system of govern
ment will arise. It cannot be denied with truth, that this new Con
stitution is, in its first principles, highly and dangerously oligarchic ;
and it is a point agreed, that a government of the few, is, of all
governments, the worst."
" The only check to be found in favor of the derhocratic principle,
in this system, is the House of Eepresentatives ; which, I believe, may
justly be called a mere shred or rag of representation ; it being obvi
ous to the least examination, that smallness of number, and great
comparative disparity of power, render that house of little effect to
promote good, or restrain bad government. But what is the power
given to this ill-constructed body ? To judge of what may be for the
general welfare, seems a power coextensive with every possible object
of human legislation." Such were the first senators from Virginia,
and of a- like complexion were a majority of those returned to the
House of Eepresentatives. For devoting himself so ardently to the
election of men known to be hostile to the Constitution as it stood,
Mr. Henry was charged with a design of subverting that which he
could not prevent. It is said that his avowed attachment to the con
federation was mere hypocrisy; that he secretly rejoiced in its imbe
cility, and did not desire a union of the States under any form of
government. He was attacked in a most virulent and personal man
ner by a writer who signed himself Decius. He charged Mr. Henry
with a design of forming Virginia and North Carolina into one
republic, and placing himself at the head as their dictator. " Were
I to draw the picture of a tyrant for this country," says Decius, " it
should be very different from that which some others have sketched
out. He should be a man in every instance calculated to soothe and
not to threaten^ the populace ; possessing a humiliating and not an
arrogant turn ; affecting an entire ignorance and poorness of capacity,
and not assuming the superiorities of the illumined ; a man whose
capacity should be calculated to insinuate itself into the good esteem
of others by degrees, and not to surprise them into a compliance on
a sudden • whose plainness of manners and meanness of address first

GEORGE MASON. 35
shuuld move our compassion, steal upon our hearts, betray our judg
ments, and finally run away with the whole of the human composi
tion." This description of the demagogue winning his way by affected
humility and low cunning to the supreme command, was intended to
be applied to Mr. Henry. Many of his own expressions are used in
drawing the portrait, but no mar less deserved the epithet of ambi
tious, There can be no doubt that he delighted to sway the passions
of the multitude, and to infiuence the decision of legislative bodies
by the powers of his eloquence ; but that his ambition extended to
the acquisition of supreme executive command, there is not the slight
est ground of suspicion.
The virulence with which he was assailed must be attributed to
the high party excitement of the times, which indiscriminately
assaulted the most spotless characters, and paid no respect to exalted
services or venerable age.

CHAPTEE VIII.

GEOEGE MASON".

George Mason was a wise man. He was at once the Solon and the
Cato, the lawgiver and the stern patriot of the age in which he lived.
At a period when republics were to be founded, and constitutions
of government ordained for growing empires, he was the first to de
fine and to guard with watchful care the rights of the people — to
prescribe limitations to the different departments of government, and
to place restrictions on their exercise of power. The Bill of Eights,
and the Constitution of Virginia, are lasting monuments to his me
mory. One sentence of the former contains more wisdom and con
centration of thought, than >11 former writings on the subject of
government. The sentence is this ; " that no man or set of men is
entitled to exclusive or separate emoluments, or privileges from the
community, but in consideration of public services ; which, not being
descendible, neither ought the offices of magistrate, legislator, or

3(3 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
judge, to be hereditary." Here is a volume of truth and wisdom,
saj-s an eminent writer, a lesson for the study of nations, embodied
in a single sentence, and expressed in the plainest language. If a
deluge of despotism were to overspread the world, and destroy those
institutions under which freedom is yet protected, sweeping into ob
livion every vestige of their remembrance among men, could this sin
gle sentence of Mason be preserved, it would be sufficient to rekindle
the flame of liberty, and to revive the race of freemen. Though Mr.
Mason did not object to a union of the States for their mutual de
fence and welfare, he yet regarded the commonwealth of Virginia as
his country, and her government as the only one that could guarantee
his rights or protect his interests. So far back as 1763, Mr. Madi
son, speaking of him, says, " his heterodoxy lay chiefly in being too
little impressed with the necessity or the proper means of preserving
the confederacy.'' Virginia was a great empire within herself, and
had every thing to sacrifice in surrendering her sovereignty to a cen
tral government. On the independence of the States also rested his
only hope of preserving the liberties of the people. He entered the
Federal Convention, therefore, in 1787, with a stern resolution never
to surrender the sovereignty of the States. Others, on the contrary,
could conceive of -no other plan but a consolidated government, by
which the States should be reduced from political societies to mere
municipal corporations. The middle ground of compromise had not
yet been thought of Mr. Madison had but a dim perception of its
possibility. Even he was for a strong government. In a letter ad
dressed to Edmund Eandolph, dated New- York, April Sth, 1787, he
says : " I hold it for a fundamental point, that an individual indepen
dence of the States is utterly irreconcilable with the idea of an ag
gregate sovereignty. I think, at the same time, that a consolidation
of the States into one simple republic, is not less unattainable than
it would be inexpedient. Let it be tried, then, whether any middle
ground can be taken," To the untiring exertions of Mr. Madison,
both in the Federal Convention and in the Convention of Virginia,
are we indebted for the existence of the Constitution. But to Colo
nel Mason are we indebted for the only democratic and federal fea
tures it contains. But for Madison we should have been without a
government; but for Mason, that government would have crushed
the States, and swallowed up the liberties of the people. To Mason

GEORGE MASON. 37
are we indebted for the popular election of members of the House of
Eepresentatives, the election of senators by the State Legislatures,
and the equal representation of the States in the Senate. In the
first, there is some guarantee for the rights of the people ; in the se
cond, some protection to the sovereignty and independence of the
States. So important were Mr. Mason's services, that we must de
tain the reader by a few quotations from his speeches to establish
his claim to the high distinction here awarded him. When the
question of electing members to the House of Eepresentatives by
the State Legislatures instead of the people, was before the Conven
tion, Mr. Mason said : " Under the existing Confederacy Dongress re
present the States, and not the people of the States ; their acts ope
rate on the States, and not on the individuals. The case will be
changed in the new plan of government. The people will be repre
sented ; they ought therefore to choose the representatives. Much,"
he said, " had been alleged . against democratic elections. He ad
mitted that much might be said ; but it was to be considered that no
government was free from imperfections and evils, and that improper
elections, in many instances, were inseparable from republican gov
ernments. But compare these with the advantage of this form, in
favor of the rights of the people, in favor of human nature !" Mr.
Mason urged the necessity of retaining the election by the people,
" Whatever inconvenience may attend the democratic principle, it
must actuate one part of the government. It is the only security for
the rights of the people."
When the organization of the Senate was under consideration,
Mr. Mason said, " he never would agree to abolish the State Gov
ernments, or render them absolutely insignificant. They were as
necessary as the General Government, and he would be equally care
ful to preserve them. He was aware of the difficulty of drawing the
line between them, but hoped it was not insurmountable. It has
been argued on all hands, that an efficient government is necessary ;
that to render it such, it ought to have the faculty of self-defence ;
that to render its different branches effectual, each of them ought to
have the same power of self-defence. He did not wonder that such
an argument should have prevailed on these points. He only won
dered that there should be any disagreement about the necessity of
allowing the State governments the same self-defence. If they are

00 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
to be preserved, as he conceived to be essential, they certainly ought
to have this power ; and the only mode left of giving it to them, was
by allowing them to appoint the second branch of the National Le
gislature." Dr. Johnson said : " The controversy must be endless
while gentlemen differ in the grounds of their arguments ; those on
one side considering the States as districts of people composing one
political society ; those on the other, considering them as so many
political societies. The fact is, that the States do exist as political
societies, and a government is to be formed for them in oheir politi
cal capacity, as well as for the individuals composing them. Does it
uot seem to follow, that if the States, as such, are to exist, they must
be armed with some power of self-defence ? This is the idea of Co
lonel Mason, who appears to have looked to tlie bottom of this inatter.
Besides the aristocratic and other interests, which ought to have the
means of defending themselves, the States have their interests aa
such, and are equally entitled to like means. On the whole he
thought, that, as in some respects the States are to be considered in
their political capacity, and in others as districts of individual citi
zens, the two ideas embraced on different sides, instead of being op
posed tp each other, ought to be combined ; that in one branch the
•people ought to be represented, in the otlier the States^'
Notwithstanding Col. Mason labored to modify the Constitution
through its various stages, as much as he could in favor of liberty
and the independence of the States, he finally voted against it. His
objections were radical, extending to every department of govern
ment. He objected to the unlimited powers of taxation, conferred
on a House of Eepresentatives, which was but the shadow of repre
sentation, and could never inspire confidence in the people. He ob
jected to the marriage, as he called it, between the President and the
Senate, and the extraordinary powers conferred on the latter. He
insisted that they would destroy any balance in the government, and
would enable the President and the Senate, by mutually supporting
and aiding each other, to accomplish what usurpations they please
upon the rights and liberties of the people. He objected to the 'ju
diciary of the United States being so constructed and extended as to
absorb and destroy the judiciaries of the several States, thereby ren
dering the administration of laws tedious, intricate, expensive, and
unattainable by a great part of the community. He objected to the

GEORGE MASON. 39
Executive because the President of the United States has no consti
tutional counsel (a thing unknown in any safe and regular govern
ment) ; he will therefore be unsupported by proper information and
advice ; and will generally be directed by minions and favorites — or
he will become a tool to the Senate — or a council of state will grow
out of the principal officers of the great departnients — the worst and
most dangerous of all ingredients for such a council in a free coun
try ; for they may be induced'to join in any dangerous and oppres
sive measures to shelter themselves, and prevent an inquiry into their
own misconduct in office.
In a word, said Col. Mason, the Confederation is converted to one
general consolidated government, which, from my best judgment of
it, is one of the worst curses that can possibly befall a nation.
Such was George Mason — the champion of the States, and the
author of the doctrine of State Eights. Many of the prophecies of
this profound statesman are recorded in the fulfilments of history —
many of the ill forebodings of the inspired orator are daily shaping
themselves into sad realities. To the indomitable courage, Eoman
energy, and inspiring eloquence of Mason and of Henry, we are as
much indebted for our independence, as to the sword of the warrior.
To their wisdom and sagacity we owe the preservation and the future
safety of the ship of state, which, without their forewarning, would
have long since been dashed to pieces against the rocks and the
quicksands that lay concealed in its pathway. While the eyes of
many good and wise men were dazzled with the strength and bril
liancy of the young eagle, now pluming himself for a bold and ardu
ous flight, they with keener vision saw the poison under his ttdng,
and sought to extract it, lest, in his high career, he might shed pes-
tUenee and death on the country which it was his destiny to over
shadow and protect.

40 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
CHAPTEE IX.
EARLY POLITICAL ASSOCIATES.
In the foregoing chapters we may have gone more into detail,
and dwelt more on collateral subjects than might appear consistent
with a work of this kind. But it was necessary \jo give the reader a
clue to the political opinions of John Eandolph. No one can fail to
ponder over those chapters, and study the character of those man
we have briefly attempted to portray, and do justice to the subject
of this memoir. He was bred up in the school of Mason and of
Henry. His father-in-law, his uncles, his brother, and all with whom
he associated, imbibed the sentiments of those great statesmen,
shared their devotion to the principles and the independence of the
Commonwealth of Virginia, and participated in all their objections
to the new government. Randolph, as we have seen, was a constant
attendant on the debates of the first Congress, which had devolved
on it the delicate task of organizing the government, and setting its
wheels in motion. A majority of the members in that body, from
Virginia, belonged to the political school of Mason and of Henry.
They owed their appointment to the influence of those men and the
alarms excited in the public mind by their predictions. Many of
them were the blood relations of John Eandolph, and all of them
his intimate friends. With these he associated. For the sage de
lights to take ingenuous youth by the hand, and address to his atten
tive ear words of truth and of wisdom. When Eichard Henry Lee,
and Grayson, and Bland, and Tucker, and Page, were seated around
the domestic fireside, holding free and familiar discourse on those
great questions involved in founding a Eepublic, we may well con
ceive that their young friend and kinsman was a welcome and an at
tentive listener to those high themes, teaching
" What makes a nation happy and keeps it so.
What ruins kingdoms and lays cities flat."
We may well conceive how his bosom dilated, and his eye kin
dled with unwonted fire, as thoy narrated the great battle of giants
in the Convention, told of the many-sided wisdom of George Mason

EARLY POLITICAL ASSOCIATES. 41
who in majestic unaffected style better taught the solid rules of civil
government than all the oratory of Greece and Eome, and spoke of
the deep-toned awful eloquence of Patrick Henry, which rivalled the
thunders that rolled over their heads, as he uttered his words of
warning. From these familiar communings he daily repaired to
Federal Hall, there to hang upon the bar of the House of Eepresen
tatives, and with keen vision see enacted before him the fulfilment
of the statesman's prophecy.
The great subject of taxation was the first to attract his atten.
tion. No sooner had Congress been organized, than they com.
menced, as he conceived, the work of oppression. The unlimited
powers conferred on Congress to tax the people, excited the alarm
of those who looked to the independence of the States as the only
protection to liberty. They sought a modification of this power in
the Convention. Failing there, they asked an amendment of the
Constitution. But all their efforts to place restrictions on this all-
absorbing power of government, were unavailing. The first exercise
of it justified, in their opinion, the worst suspicions which had been
excited as to its dangerous and oppressive tendency. They declared
that no duty or tax had been imposed, that did not operate as a
bounty to one section and a burden on another. While the import
and tonnage bills were under discussion, Mr. Smith of South Carolina
said, " that the States which adopted the Constitution, expected its
administration would be conducted with a favorable hand. The
manufacturing States wished the encouragement of manufactures ;
the maritime States the encouragement of ship building, and the ag
ricultural States the encouragement of agriculture. Let us view
the progress we have made in accommodating their interests : — We
have laid heavy duties upon foreign goods to encourage domestic
manufactures ; we are now about to lay a tonnage duty, for the en
couragement of commerce ; but has any one step been taken to en
courage the agricultural States ? So far from it, tha,t all that has been
done operates against their interest : every duty we have laid will
be heavily felt by South Carolina, while nothing has been done to
assist or even encourage her or her agriculture," Mr. Tucker said :
" I am opposed to high duties, because they tend to the oppression
of certain citizens and States, in order to promote the benefit of
other States and other classes of citizens," Mr. Bland laid it down

42 I'IFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
as an incontrovertible truth, " that the agricultural interest is the
permanent interest of this country, and therefore ought not to be
sacrificed to any other," Mr Jackson of Georgia, who had accus
tomed himself, as he said, to a blunt integrity of speech, that attest
ed his sincerity, exclaimed : " They call to my mind a passage of
Scripture, where a king, by the advice of inexperienced counsellors,
declared to his people, ' my father did laden you with a heavy yoke,
but I will add to your burdens.' " Follow those men through all
their legislative career and it will be found, though history has given
them little credit for it, that they steadily pursued one object as
their polar star — resistance to the encroachments of power, and pro
tection to the rights of the people.
The awful squinting towards monarchy which Henry saw in the
Executive, made them particularly jealous of that department of
government, and caused them to oppose every measure that might
ter d to increase its power or patronage. On the much mooted ques
tion, for example, of removal from office, they insisted that the Senate
should be associated with the President. Mr. Bland was the first
to give expression to opinions which have since been so often re
peated, and the policy of which is still a question. He thought the
power given by the Constitution to the Senate, respecting the ap
pointments to office, would be rendered almost nugatory if the Pre
sident had the power of removal He thought it consistent with the
nature of things, that the power which appointed, should remove ; and
would not object to a declaration in the resolution, that the Presi
dent shall remove from office by and with the advice and consent of
the Senate,
The bill to establish the Treasury Department contained a
clause making it the duty of the Secretary, " to digest and report
plans for the improvement and management of the revenue and for
the support of public credit."
Mr. Page moved to strike out these words, observing, that to
permit the Secretary to go farther than to prepare estimates, would
be a dangerous innovation on the constitutional privilege of that
house. It would create an undue influence within those walls, be
cause members might be led by the deference commonly paid to
men of abilities, who gave an opinion in a case they have thoroughly
considered, to support the plan of the minister even against their

EARLY POLITICAL ASSOCIATES. 43
own judgment. Nor would the mischief stop there. A precedent
would be established, which might be extended until ministers of
the government should be admitted on that floor, to explain and
support the plans they had digested and reported, thereby laying a
foundation for an aristocracy or a detestable monarchy.
Mr. Tucker seconded the \motion of Mr. Page. He hoped the
house was not already weary of executing and sustaining the powers
vested in them by the Constitution ; and yet the adoption of this
clause would argue that they thought themselves less adequate than
an individual to determine what burdens their constituents were
able to bear. This was not answering the high expectations that
had been formed of their exertions for the general good, or of their
vigilance in guarding their own and the people's rights.
But nothing could equal the ferment and disquietude occasioned
throughout the country by the proposition which came from the
Senate, to confer titles on the President and other officers of govern
ment. The committee of the Sena.te reported, that it was proper
to style the President his highness the President of the United States
of Araerica, and Protector of their liberties. In some of the news
papers the President was called his highness the President General.
Some even went farther, and declared that as he represented the
majesty of the people, he might even be styled '' His Majestyf
without reasonable offence to republican ears. The Senate was de
nominated most honorable, and the same epithet was applied to the
members of that body. For instance, it was published that tlie most
hoTwrahle Eufus King and tlie most honorable Philip Schuyler were
appointed senators. And when Mrs. Washington came to New-
York, she was accompanied by the " lady of the most honorable
Eobert Morris," The representatives, and even the secretaries of
the executive departments were favored with no higher title than
honorable. This habit of conferring titles and drawing distinctions
between the different departments of government, and extending
those titles and distinctions to persons no way connected with the
government, had- become very common, and would unquestionably
have grown into something worse, but for the debates called forth in
the House of Eepresentatives, and the indignation shown by the
leading members of that body against such proceedings. " What,
sir," said Mr. Tucker, " is the intention of this business ? Will it not

44 J-IFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
alarm our fellow-citizens ? will it not give them just cause of alarm ?
Will they not say, that they have been deceived by the Convention
that framed the Constitution ? That it has been contrived with a
view to lead them on by degrees to that kind of government which
they have thrown off with abhorrence ? Shall we not justify the
fears of those who are opposed to the Constitution, because they con
sidered it as insidious and hostile to the liberties of the people ?"
" Titles, sir," said Mr. Page, " may do harm and have done harm.
If we contend now for a right to confer titles, I apprehend the time
will come when we shall form a reservoir for honor, and make our
President the fountain of it. In such case may not titles do an
injury to the Union ? They have been the occasion of an eternal
faction in the kingdom we were formerly connected with, and may
beget like inquietude in America ; for I contend, if you give the
title, you must follow it with the robe and the diadem, and then the
principles of your government are subverted."
Such were the men with whom John Eandolph daily associated,
such were the high-toned principles of liberty he was daily accus
tomed to hear. It was not from the reading of books in his closet,
nor from second-hand that he acquired his knowledge of politics, and
that extensive acquaintance with the leading characters of the country
for which he was so remarkable, but from familiar intercourse with
the statesmen and sages who laid the foundations of the government,
and commenced the first superstructure of laws and precedents to
serve as guides and examples to the statesmen who should come after
them. It was the fort^une of this young man to behold the Government
in its feeble beginnings, like the simple shepherds on the snowy Ve-
solo, gazing in the overshadowed fountain of the Po with his scanty
waters. Mirando al fonte ombroso
II Po con pochi umori.
It was his destiny also never to lose sight of it, but to follow it
through near half a century of various fortune, now enfeebled by
war and faction, now strengthened and enlarged by new States and
new powers. How like the Po ! he receives as a sovereign the Adda
and the Tessino in his course, how ample he hastens on to the sea,
how he foams, how mighty his voice, and to him the crown is assigned.

THOMAS JEFFERSON. 45
Che '1 Adda, ehe '1 Tessino
Soverchia in suo cammimo,
Che ampio al Mar' s'affretta
Che si spuma, e si suona,
Che gli si da corona !

CHAPTEE X,
THOMAS JEFFERSON.
In the winter of the year 1790-1, Philadelphia had again become,
as in times of the old Continental Congress, the great centre of
attraction. By a recent Act it had been made the seat of the Federal
Government for ten years. The national legislature, adjourning the
12th of August in New- York, were to assemble the first Monday in
December in the new Capitol. The papers and officers of all the
Executive Departments were removed thither early in October, under
the conduct of Col. Hamilton, the Secretary of the Treasury. The
President returning from Mount Vernon about the 1st of December,
took up his lodgings in a house belonging to Robert Morris, which
had been hired and fitted up for the purpose. And Tuesday, the 7th
of December, the 3d session of the 1st Congress was organized in
the new Court House of the city, which had been tendered to the
government by the town authorities. We find also our young friend,
in this general removal, transferred to the city of Philadelphia. He
took up his residence at No. 154 Arch-street, where he continued
with short intervals, till the spring of .1794, when he returned to Vir
ginia. He was attached to the family of Edmund Randolph, the Attor
ney General of the United States — the same person his mother
pointed him to as the model of an orator, worthy of his imitation.
Edmund Randolph was a kinsman in the collateral line. He was
the son of John Randolph, the King's Attorney General about the
time of the Revolution.
'' Mr, Randolph," says Wirt, " was, in person and manners, among
the most elegant gentlemen in the colony, and in his profession one

46 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
of the most splendid ornaments of the bar." He was the son of Sii
John (Knight), who was the son of William of Turkey Island, the
great American progenitor of the family. Edmund Randolph in
herited many of the accomplishments of his father. But he was
more showy than solid. He was also of a vacillating character;
voting against the Constitution, then violent in its favor ; striving at
first to steer above the influence of party, he was at length ingulfed
and swept away by its current, " Friend Edmund," said John
Randolph years afterwards, " was like the aspen, like the chameleon,
ever trembling, ever changing," We may, therefore, suppose that
his influence over the mind and character of his pupil was not so
great as that of another kinsman who was also a member of General
Washington's Cabinet, We allude to Thomas Jefferson, the flrst
cousin of John Randolph's father, and the intimate friend of his
youth, Mr. Jefferson had been abroad "some years as Minister to J'rance.
Returning on a visit to America, he was invited by General Washing
ton to take charge of the State Department. The invitation was
accepted, and he was no sooner installed in office in the spring of
1790, than he became the head and leader of the Republican State-
Rights Party, then struggling into existence. Is was not the exalted
station alone, but other circumstances that forced him into this unen
viable and critical position. The author of the doctrine of State
Rights and its eloquent defender, George Mason, and Patrick Henry,
were both in retirement. The latter had been offered a seat in the
Senate at its organization, but declined. It was tendered to him the
second time, on the death of Col. Grayson ; he again declined on the
ground that he was too old to fall into those awkward imitations
which have now become fashionable, spoken in allusion to the levees
of Mrs. Washington, and the etiquette observed in presentations at
the Executive Mansion.
Richard Henry Lee was still in the Senate. He was the gentleman,
the scholar, and the orator, but his thoughts ran too much in the smooth
channel of established forms, his oratory too elaborate and polished, his
disposition too indolent and unambitious to make him the fit leader
of a party just coming into existence in a new era, with new thoughts,
new principles, and an untried experiment before them, Thomas
Jefferson was the man. The qualities of his mind, his education and

THOMAS JEFFERSON. 47
previous course of life, fitted him to be the bold and intrepid pioneer
of that untried course the people had entered upon.
His mind, not of the Platonic cast, was eminently perceptive.
The abstract had no charms for him — the spiritual no existence.
Devoted to the natural sciences, his metaphysics savored of material
ism. Locke's Philosophy of the Senses bounded his conceptions of the
human understanding. And the French Disciples, who pursued the
doctrines of their master, to the legitimate consequence of sensualism
and infidelity, were his chief authorities on all questions of morality
and religion.
He was a bold, free thinker, bound to no school. " I never sub
mitted the whole system of my opinions," says he, " to the creed of
any party of men whatever, in religion, in philosophy, in pohtics, or
in any thing else."
He was born in a country in the vigor of its youth, untrammelled
by habit, and new in all its social relations. He was a child of the
Revolution. His ardent temper was kindled by its stormy passions,
and his bold intellect grasped the master idea of that great popular
movement, which was unfettered freedom to mind, body, and estate.
By him the law of primogeniture was destroyed in Virginia, religious
freedom established, and universal liberty and equality proclaimed in
the Declaration of Independence.
His ruling desire to strike the padlock from the mind, and the
fetter from the limbs of mankind, was rather strengthened than
abated by his long residence abroad under a despotic government.
Being a man of letters and of taste, he was in intimate association
with the great writers and master spirits that set the ball of the French
Eevolution in motion. In boldness and freedom of discussion they
surpassed even himself Speaking of them he says, " the writers of
this country (France) now taking the field freely, and unrestrained,
or rather revolted by prejudice, will rouse us all from the errors in
which we have been hitherto rooked."
A witness of the assembling of the States General, May, 1789,
he rejoiced in the downfall of the worn-out French monarchy, of
which that was the signal ; and was the friend and adviser of those
who sought to rebuild on its ruins a freer government, with broader
and deeper foundations. He heard the rights of man, the origin of
government, the abuses and limitations of power, more freely dis-

48 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
cussed in the cafes and saloons of Paris than in the court-yards of
Virginia. When the usages and precedents of past times, and of other
governments, were scornfully rejected, he saw our own proceedings
pointed to as a model, and regarded with an authority like that of
the Bible, open to explanation, but not to question.
Coming from those scenes of enthusiasm in which he so warmly
participated ; coming from a land where old prejudices and long
established abuses were vanishing away ; where the titles of feudal
ism and the privileges of despotism had been swept away in a
night, and a^great nation was rejoicing in the dawn of a new era of
freedom ; he expressed himself astonished to find his own govern
ment, which was regarded by others as a model and an example, pos
sessed with a spirit that seemed to him so anti-republican.
This false direction of the government he mainly attributed to
the financial schemes of Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the
Treasury. It is well known that Hamilton advised a Constitution far differ
ent from the one adopted. His was a plan of consolidation, with a
strong infusion of the aristocratic principle. Having experienced
the imbecility of the Confederation, he did not believe the new gov
ernment practicable. Without a successful example in history, he
did not believe in the capacity of the people for self-government.
Judging of mankind by the oppressed and degraded specimens of,
the army and of the Old Country, he did not duly appreciate the
intelligent and manly character of his own countrymen, nor did he
comprehend the nature of that government of specified powers and
divided sovereignty which was the embodiment of their spirit and
principles. Placed at the head of the Financial Department of a
new government, he was surrounded with many difficulties. The
war had left the Confederation and the States burdened with debt ;
and, exhausted of resources, it became his duty to devise^ .means to
resuscitate the one, and to pay off the other. With no experience
in his own country, it was natural he should look to the successful
example of others. He is considered a wise statesman, who is
guided by established precedents, does not strike "into unknown
paths, but prudently follows the course that has been pursued before
him. Judging him by this rule, it would be hard to say how far he

THOMAS JEFFERSON. 49
ought to have acted otherwise than he did, without hazarding the
censure of rashness. " The chief outlines of these plans," says he,
in his report on public credit, " are not original, but it is no ill
recommendation that they have been tried with success." He
recommended that the debts which had been contracted by the
several States in the War of Independence, and for which they
were bound, as independent sovereignties, should be assumed by the
new government, — that these assumed debts, and those contracted
by the Confederation, arjiounting in all to some eighty millions of
dollars, though greatly depreciated, and passed from the hands of
the original owner, should be funded at their par value ; the in
terest to be paid regularly by an excise and an impost duty, but the
capital to be viewed in the light of an annuity, at the rate of six per
centum per annum, redeemable at the pleasure of the government.
He also advised the incorporation of a National Bank, as " an insti
tution of primary importance to the prosperous administration of the
finances, and of the greatest utility in the operations connected with
the support of the public credit." In his Eeports, he labors, at
great length, to prove the utility of a well-funded National Debt.
" It is a well known fact," says he, " that in countries where the
national debt is properly funded, it answers most of the purposes of
money. Transfers of stock, or public debt, are there equivalent to
payments in specie ; or, in other words, stock in the principal trans
actions of business passes current as specie. Trade is extended by
it, because there is a larger capital to carry it on. Agriculture and
manufactures are promoted by it for a like reason. The interest of
money will be lowered by it, for this is always in ratio to the quan
tity of money, and to the quickness of circulation. From the combi
nation of these effects, additional aids will be furnished to labor, to
industry, and to arts of every kind. , But these good effects of a
public debt are only to be looked for when, by being well funded, it
has acquired an adequate and stable value." These arguments,
viewed in connection with the obvious tendency of his policy, led
the enemies of Hamilton to declare that he regarded a national
debt as a national blessing. Though this inference might be drawn
from his doctrine and policy, he yet, in express terms, declared him
self against it. " Persuaded as the Secretary is," says he, " that the
proper funding of the present debt will render it a national blessing,

50 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
yet he is so far from acceding to the proposition, in the latitude in
which it is sometimes laid down, that ' public debts are public
benefits' — a position inviting to prodigality, and liable to dangerous
abuse — that he ardently wishes to see it incorporated, as a funda
mental maxim, in the system of public credit of the United States,
that the creation of debt should always be accompanied with the
means of extinguishment." Had those schemes of Hamilton been
laid before a British Parliament, they wouid have been viewed as
clearly and ably expressed, and adopted as practicable and expe
dient ; but with us, far other and higher considerations than those
of expediency or practicability had to be weighed before the adop
tion of any measure. The British Parliament was omnipotent ; the
American Congress limited to a few, well defined, and specifled
powers. Parliament was only guided by precedent and usage ;
Congress were controlled by the words of a written Constitution.
There was with us, therefore, a primary and fundamental inquiry to
be made on all subjects of legislation, unknown to the British
statesman. Whenever a measure is proposed, the flrst question
should be. Is it constitutional? Is it authorized by the specified
powers laid down in the Charter? or does it encroach on the
reserved rights of the States ? How does it affect the balance of
power between the Executive, Legislative, and Judiciary Depart
ments, or how does it operate on the morals and integrity of the
people, upon whose purity depends the existence of a free govern
ment ? Unless these preliminary questions are always honestly and
fairly settled, it is obvious that a republican and a written Constitu
tion cannot long be of any avail. But these considerations did not
occur to the mind of Hamilton, in projecting his schemes of finance ;
they are never started, nor is the slightest allusion made to them in
his Eeports. He views every subject in its financial aspect, without
regard to its political bearing on the new, peculiar, and delicately
balanced institutions of his country. This was his great and fatal
error. Thomas Jefferson perceived it, and battled against all his
schemes as unconstitutional, destructive to the independence of the
States, and corrupting to the rulers and to the people.
Posterity, therefore, in pronouncing judgment on these great
rivals, would be constrained to say that Hamilton was the able
financier, but Jefferson the profound statesman. While the one.

THOMAS JEFFERSON.

51

with averted countenance, looked back upon the lights the world
had already passed ; the other, with prophetic vision, caught the
rays of a new constellation, just dawning upon it. Gathering up in
his capacious mind the tendency and influences of those feelings
and opinions, recently developed in American history and institu
tions, Jefferson conceived a theory of government that embodied the
growing sentiments of the people, and fulfilled their idea of what
free Eepublic should be. He stands in relation to the Constitution
as Aristotle to the Iliad ; Homer wrote the poem, the philosopher
deduced thence the rules of poetry. Mason and other sages made
the Constitution, the statesman abstracted from it the doctrines of a
federative, representative, republican government ; and demonstrated
that they alone are adapted to a wide-spread and diversified country,
and suited to the genius of a free and enlightened people. Were
the question asked. What has America done for the amelioration of
mankind ? the answer would not be found in her discoveries in
science or improvements in art, but in her political philosophy, as
conceived by Jefferson, and developed by his disciples. Though he
was the acknowledged leader of what may be called the great
American movement, he never spoke in public, and never wrote an
e.=isay for the newspapers. His great skill lay in infusing his senti
ments into the minds of others by conversation, or correspondence,
and making them the instruments of their propagation. Gathering
about him the influential men of the new party, he imparted to them
more comprehensive views of their own doctrines, and made them
the enthusiastic defenders of those principles, the importance of
which they had but dimly perceived. Over no one did he exert a
greater influence than the young and ardent subject of this memoir.
His connection with the family of Edmund Eandolph, and his near
relationship to Mr. Jefferson himself, brought him frequently within
the sphere of that fascitating conversation, which was never spared
in the propagation of his opinions. But John Eandolph, although a
youth, was not the character to yield a blind allegiance to any
leader. The disciple differed widely in many doctrines from the
master. The grounds of that difference may be found in the writ
ings of another great statesman that begun about that time to take
hold on his mind, and deeply impress his character. So great was
their influence in after life, that the writings of Edmund Burke

52 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
became -the key to the political opinions of John Randolph. With
him Edmund Burke was the great master of political philosophy.

CHAPTEE XI.
SMALL BEGINNINGS — EDMUND BUEKE — THOMAS PAINE.
Soon after the adjournment of Congress, the 4th of March, 1791,
General Washington left the seat of government, and commenced
his tour through the Southern States. The secretaries at the head
of the different departments, were left as a kind of committee to
conduct affairs in his absence.
About this time the public mind began to be greatly agitated
not only by the wonderful events of the French Eevolution, but the
various speculations on those extraordinary occurrences that daily
teemed from our own political press. The two leading productions,
that were held up on both gides as setting forth most clearly and
fully the views they respectively entertained, proceeded from men
who were well and favorably known in America as the friends of
liberty. Edmund Burke had not only defended the colonies, in the Brit
ish Parliament, against the unjust and oppressive taxation of the
ministry, but had nobly vindicated their character and their mo
tives. Throughout America his name was venerated and beloved.
Well might he exclaim, " I love a manly, moral, regulated liberty as
well as any man, be he who he will ; and perhaps I have given as good
proofs of my attachment to that cause in the whole course of my
public conduct."
Thomas Paine was in America during the struggle of the Colo
nies for independence, and greatly aided the cause by his spirited
and patriotic essays. It was generally conceded that in the darkest
hour of the Eevolution. when our armies were disbanded, and the
hearts of the people despondent, he helped to rally the dn^ and to
animate the other by his bold and patriotic appeals. The'first men
of the nation forgot his many, vices, and cherished his person and
bis reputation in grateful remembrance of his valuable services

EDMUND BURKC— THOMAS PAINE. 53
General Washington was his constant correspondent while abroad,
and while in America the house of Jefferson was his home.
In the great struggle for liberty which had now commenced on
the other side of the Atlantic, these two champions of the cause Jook
opposite sides. Burke expressed a hearty wish that France might
be animated by a spirit of rational liberty, and provide a permanent
body in which that spirit might reside, and an effectual organ by
which it might act ; but, he said, it was his misfortune to entertain
great doubts concerning several material points in their late transac
tions. Paine, on the other hand, had no doubts ; inflamed by the
spirit of liberty, suddenly burst forth in the hearts of the French
people, and dazzled by its brilliant achievements, he threw himself
warmly into the popular cause without knowing or caring for Jhe
consequences. The habits, education, social position, and natural temperament
of the two men led to this wide difference. Burke had been long
trained in the school of experience, Paine was the mere speculative
theorist. The one judged of the future by the past, the other pro
jected the future not from the solid ground of experience, but the
hopeful theories of his own sanguine imagination. Burke was the
cautious statesman, Paine the enthusiastic patriot.
The statesman cannot stand forward and give praise or blame to
any thing which relates to human actions, and human concerns, on a
simple view of the object, as it stands stripped of every relation, in
all the nakedness and solitude of metaphysical abstraction. Circum
stances which with some pass for nothing, give in reality to every
political principle its distinguishing color, and discriminating effect.
The circumstances are what render every civil and political scheme
beneficial or noxious to mankind. Burke was guided by this great
political maxim, the truth of which he had been taught by long
experience. " I must be tolerably sure," said he, " before I venture
publicly to congratulate men upon a blessing, that they have really
received one. Flattery corrupts both the receiver and the giver ;
and adulation is not of more service to the people than to kings. I
should therefore suspend my congratulations on the new liberty of
France, until I was informed how it had been combined with govern
ment, with public force, with the discipline and obedience of armies,
with the <3ollection of an effective and well distributed revenue, with

54 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
morality and religion, with solidity and property, with peace and
order, with civil and social manners. The effect of liberty to indi
viduals is, that they may do what they please ; we ought to see what
it will please them to do, before we risk congratulations, which
may soon be turned into complaints. Prudence would dictate this in
the case of separate insulated private men ; but liberty, when men
act in bodies, is power. Considerate people, before they declare them
selves, will observe the use which is made of power ; and particularly
of so trying a thing as new power in new persons, of whose principles,
tempers, and dispositions, they have little or no experience. Better
to be despised for too anxious apprehensions, than ruined by too con
fident a security.''
Paine, on the other hand, with all the inexperienced statesmen of
France, followed a transcendental idea. He saw a great and power
ful nation burst the oppressive and galling fetters of feudal ages, and
proclaim themselves a free people. With all the lovers of man
kind through the world, he lifted up his hands and clapped for joy.
He beheld the event and rejoiced. But how this new power might
be used by the new men, of whose principles, tempers, and dispositions
he had no experience, he did not stop to inquire ; he did not consult
the maxims of prudence, or the principles of reason, but obeyed the
impulses of a warm, enthusiastic and patriotic heart. Dictated by
such a spirit, his writings might serve to animate, but not to instruct,
to inspire a kindred enthusiasm, but to afford no nourishment to the
hungering mind. They have perished with the occasion that gave
them birth, while the immortal truths scattered as gems through
the writings of Edmund Burke, are set like stars in the firmament
for lights and guides to mankind.
Burke wrote his reflections on the Eevolution in France in the
month of May, 1790; and some short time thereafter gave them to
the public. Paine's answer, entitled the Eights of Man, soon fol
lowed. The flrst and only copy of this latter production made its
appearance in Philadelphia about the first of May, 1791 ; it was in
the hands of Beckley. He lent the pamphlet to Mr. Jefferson, with
a request, that when he should have read it, he would send it to
Smith the printer, who wished it for re-publication. As he was a
stranger to Smith, Mr. Jefferson, in sending the pamphlet, wrote him
a note, stating why he, a stranger, had sent it, namely, that Mr,

THOMAS PAINE— EDMUND BURKE. 55
Beckley had desired it ; and, to take off a little of the dryness of a
note, he added, that he was glad to find it was to be reprinted, that
something would at length be publicly said against the political here
sies which had lately sprung up amongst us, and that he did not doubt
our citizens would rally again around the standard of Common Sense
In these allusions, Mr. Jefferson had reference to the Discourses on
Davila, which had filled Fenno's paper for a twelvemonth without
contradiction. Mr. Adams, the Vice-President, was the reputed
.author of those Discourses. When the reprint of Paine's pamphlet
appeared, it had prefixed to it the note of BIr. Jefferson, which the
printer had appended without giving him the slightest intimation of
such an intention. In this unexpected way was the .eader of the
new and rising Democratic Party identified with the political doc
trines of Paine, the principles of the French Eevolution, and made
publicly to avow his hostility to the political heresies which had lately
sprung up in our own country. In addition to this, Paine's pam
phlet, though without authority, had been dedicated to General
Washington. The pamphlet, accompanied with these circumstances,
produced a considerable excitement in the political circles of Phila
delphia. Major Beckwith, an unofficial British agent, made it a
subject of formal complaint to the private secretary of the President.
He expressed surprise that the pamphlet should be dedicated to the
President of the United States, and averred that it had received the
unequivocal official sanction of the Secretary of State, not as Mr.
Jefferson, but as the Secretary of State.
On the other hand, Mr. Adams was not slow in declaring his
opposition to the sentiments expressed in Paine's pamphlet. In the
most pointed manner, he expressed his detestation of the book and
its tendency. " J was at the Vice-President's house," says the pri
vate secretary, writing to General Washington, " and while there,
the Doctor and Mrs. Eush came in. The conversation turned on this
book, and Dr. Eush a^ked the Vice-President what he thought of it.
After a little hesitation, he laid his hand upon his breast, and said
in a very solemn manner, ' I detest that book and its tendency, from
the bottom of my heart.' "
Mr. Jefferson, in writing to the President about the same time,
says : " Paine's answer to Burke's pamphlet begins to produce some
squibs in our public papers. In Fenno's paper they are Burkites ;

56 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
in the others, they are Painites. One of Fenno's was evidently from
the author of the Discourses on Davila. I am afraid the indiscre
tion of a printer has committed me with my friend Mr. Adams, for
whom, as one of the most honest and disinterested men alive, I have a
cordial esteem, increased by long habits of concurrence in opinion in
the days of his republicanism ; and ever since his apostasy to heredi
tary monarchy and nobility, though we differ, we differ as friends
should do.
" Mr. Adams will unquestionably take to himself the charge of poli
tical heresy, as conscious of his own views of drawing the present gov
ernment to the form of the English constitution, and, I fear, willecn-
sider me as meaning to injure him in the public eye. I certainly
never made a secret of my being anti-monarehical, and anti-aristo-
cratical ; but I am sincerely mortified to be thus brought foward on
the public stage, where to remain, to advance, or to retire, will be
equally against my love of silence and quiet, and my abhorrence of
dispute." We have given the minute history of this transaction, not only
because of its important bearing on the subject of this memoir, but
because it traces up to the fountain head one of the many streams
which, flowing together in after times, have conspired to swell the
mighty tide of party spirit that now sweeps through the land.
John Eandolph was in Philadelphia during this time ; partici
pated in the interest and excitement of the occasion ; heard the dis
cussions in the various circles into which he was freely admitted ; saw
people become inflamed with the Anglomania or the Gallomania, and
arrange themselves under the banners of their respective champions
as Burkites or Painites, according as they were inclined to admire
the British Constitution, or the more free and levelling doctrines of
the French Eevolution, and plainly perceived that that great event
was destined to swallow up every minor consideration, and to give
character and complexion to the politics of his own country. But
while he was a democratic republican, a follower of Jefferson in all
that pertained to his political doctrines and interpretation of the
Constitution, pre-eminently a disciple of the Mason and Henry
school of States' rights, yet he did not become a Painite in the
sense that term was used by Mr. Jefferson. In the expressive lan-
guage of Governor Tazewell, he could not bear Tom Paine ; he ad

THOMAS PAINE— EDMUND BURKE. 57
mired Burke, though himself a jacobin ! While he rejoiced in the over
throw of despotism by the French people, he could not fail to perceive
that they were better fitted to destroy tyrants than obey the laws ; and
hastened to learn those lessons of wisdom that fell from the lips of
the great master of political philosophy, who, from the few events al
ready transpired, foretold with the clearness of a Hebrew prophet,
the wretched end to which they were hastening. We regard this as
a most remarkable fact in the history of that young man. The de
sign of Burke was eminently conservative. He saw the conse
quences of a dissemination of French revolutionary doctrines among
i;he English people ; his purpose was to shut out from England
what the kings of Europe called the French evil.
With this design, he gives a most beautiful and masterly «xpo-
sition of the British Constitution, from Magna Charta to the
declaration of rights. He calls it an entailed inheritance, derived to
us (the people of England) from our forefathers, and to be transmitted
to our posterity ; as an estate specially belonging to the people of
this kingdom — an inheritable crown — an inheritable peerage ; and a
House of Commons, and a people inheriting privileges, franchises,
and liberties from a long line of ancestors.
With the same masterly hand he makes bare the composition of
the French National Assembly — the characters that compose it — the
few acts they had already performed during a single year ; and then
predicts, from these elements of calculation, that France will be
wholly governed by the agitators in corporations, by societies in the
towns formed of directors in assignats, and trustees for the sale of
church lands, attorneys, agents, money-jobbers, speculators, and ad
venturers, composing an ignoble oligarchy, founded on the destruc
tion of the crown, the church, the nobility, and the people. Here
end all the deceitful dreams and visions of this equality, and the
rights of man. In the Serionian bog of this base oligarchy, they are
all absorbed, sunk, and lost for ever. The present form of the
French commonwealth, he says, cannot remain ; but before its final
settlejnent it may be obliged to pass, as one of our poets says,
" through great varieties of untried being ;" and in all its transmi
grations to be purified by fire and blood !
It is not surprising that such a book as this should be seized
upon by the partisans of England, and held up as a justification of
3*

58 A^lFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
their doctrine that the British Constitution, with all its corruptions,
was the best model of a government the world ever saw ; and as a
vindication of the abhorrence they had expressed for the doctrines
of the French Eevolution, and their tendency.
But it is a matter of no little surprise that a mere stripling, a
youth of some eighteen or twenty years of age, himself a republican
and a jacobin, with an ardent temperament and a lively imagination,
should have the independence to ponder over the pages of a book
condemned by his associates ; the judgment to perceive its value,
and the discrimination to leave out that which peculiarly belonged
to England or to France, without being inflamed by its arguments, and
to appropriate to himself those rich treasures of wisdom to be found
in its pages : the massive ingots of gold that constitute the greater
part of that magnificent monument of human intellect. As we have
said, the writings of Edmund Burke are the key to the political
opinions of John Eandolph.
In after life, as he grew in experience, those opinions became
more and more assimilated to the doctrines of his great master.
His position in society, his large hereditary possessions, his pride
of ancestry, his veneration for the commonwealth of Virginia, her
ancient laws and institutions ; his high estimation of the rights of
property in the business of legislation, — all conspired to shape his
thoughts, and mould them in matters pertaining to domestic polity
after the fashion of those who have faith in the old, the long-
established, and the venerable. No one can trace his course in the
Virginia Convention, or read his speeches, which had a remarkable
influence on the deliberations of that body, without perceiving that
his deep and practical wisdom is of the same stamp, and but little
inferior to the great Gamaliel at whose feet he was taught.

YOUTHFUL COMPANIONS. 59

CHAPTEE XII.
YOUTHFUL COMPANIONS.
We are not to suppose that a youth, in the joyous hours of his
dawning faculties, devoted his time, or any great portion of it, to the
society of sober statesmen, or to the grave study of political science.
Far other were the associates and companions of John Eandolph
during his residence in the Quaker city, even at that day renowned
for its intelligent, polished, gay, and fashionable society.
With occasional visits to Virginia, and a short residence of a
few weeks in Williamsburg during the autumn of 1793, Phila
delphia, till the spring of 1794, continued to be his place of abode.
His companions were Batte, Carter, Epps, Marshall, and Eose of
Virginia; Bryan of Georgia, and Eutledge of South Carolina.
Most of these were young men of wealth, education, refined man
ners, high sense of honor, and of noble bearing. John W. Epps
afterwards became a leading member of Congress, married the
daughter of Mr. Jefferson, and in 1813 was the successful rival of
Eandolph on the hustings before the people. Joseph Bryan like
wise in a short time became a leading character in Georgia, was a
member of Congress from that State, and to the day of his untimely
death continued to be the bosom friend of the associate of his youth.
Most of the others, though unknown to fame, adorned the social
sphere in which they moved, and were noble specimens of the unam
bitious scholar and the gentleman. Thomas Marshall, the brother
of the Chief Justice, and father of Thomas Marshall, the late mem
ber of Congress, is still living. He is a man of extraordinary
powers, and great learning : his wit and genial humor are not to be
surpassed. Those who knew them well agree that his natural talents
surpass those of his late illustrious brother, the Chief Justice.
Eobert Eose was a man of genius ; he married the sister of Mr.
Madison, and might have risen to any station in his profession
(which he merely studied as an ornament), in letters, or in politics,
that he aspired to ; but, like too many in his sphere and station in

60 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
society, he lived a life of inglorious ease, and wasted his gifts, like
the rose its sweets, on the desert air With such companions, we
may readily suppose there was fun and frolic enough ; but nothing
low or mean, or vulgar or sordid, in all their intercourse. The cor
respondence of some of those young men at that period is now before
the writer. It is very clear that Eandolph was the centre of
attraction in that joyous circle of boon companions. And while
there can be no doubt that they indulged in all the license allowed
at that time to young men of their rank and fortune, yet he passed
through that critical period of life without the contamination of a
single vice. Though many years afterwards, he said, " I know by
fatal experience the fascinations of a town life, how they estrange the
mind from its old habits and attachments." Bryan, in February,
1794, wishes him all the happiness that is attendant on virtue and
regularity. Again, in speaking of one of their companions, to whom
Eandolph had become strongly attached, he expresses a hope that
he may prove worthy of the friendship, — " possessing as you do,"
says he, " a considerable knowledge of mankind, your soul would not
have knit so firmly to an unworthy object."
Most of those young men were students of medicine. Eandolph
also attended with them several courses of lectures in anatomy and
physiology — sciences that are indispensable not only to a profession
al, but to a liberal and gentlemanly education. We do not learn, as
many have supposed, that he studied law at that time in the office
of his relation, Edmund Randolph, the Attorney General. Two
years after leaving Philadelphia, Bryan writes that he is rejoiced to
hear his friend has serious thoughts of attacking the law. He tells
us himself that he never, after Theodorick broke up his regular
habits at New-York, devoted himself to any systematic study, ex
cept for the few weeks he was in Williamsburg, in the autumn of
1793, So we conclude that he never made the law a matter of se
rious study, certainly never with the view of making it a profession.
In April, 1794, he returned to Virginia. In June he was twenty-
one years of age, and then took upon himself the management of
his patrimonial estates, which were heavily encumbered with a Brit
ish debt. Matoax was still in the family, but was sold about this
time for three thousand pounds sterling, to pay off a part of the
above debt. The mansion house has since been burnt, but the same

RICHARD RANDOLPH. 61
estate now would not bring three hundred dollars, although it is
within three miles of Petersburg.
Eichard Eandolph, the elder brother, lived at Bizarre, an estate
on the Appomatox, about ninety miles above Petersburg. It is near
Farmville, but on the opposite side of the river, in Cumberland coun
ty. John made his brother's house his home, while his own estate,
sailed Roanoke, lay about thirty miles south on the Eoanoke river,
in the county of Charlotte.

CHAPTEE XIII
EICHAED RANDOLPH.
With , Eichard the reader has already formed some slight acquaint
ance. In 1789 he married Judith Eandolph, the daughter of Thom
as Mann Eandolph, of Tuckahoe. Judith was a relation in both
the direct and collateral lines. Her father, Thomas Mann, was tHe
son of William, who was the son of Thomas of Tuckahoe, the son
of William, the first founder of the family in Virginia, Her mother
was Anne Cary, the daughter of Mary Cary, who was the daughter
of the first Eichard of Curies, and the sister of the second Eiohard
of Curies, the grandfather of Eichard her husband. This lady was
remarkable for her great strength of mind, for her many virtues, and
high accomplishments. Eichard was regarded as the most promis
ing young man in Virginia. His talents were only surpassed by his
extraordinary goodness of character.
Let his OWL grateful acknowledgments to his father-in-law, Judge
Tucker, speak for him. " Accept," says he, " once more, my beloved
father, the warmest effusions of a heart that knows but one tie su
perior to that which binds him to the .best- of parental friends.
When I look back to those times wherein I was occupied in forming
my mind for the reception of professional knowledge, and indeed to
whatever period of my life I cast "my eyes, something presents itself
to remind me of the source whence sprung all my present advanta
ges and happiness. Something continually shows my father to me

62 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
in the double light of parent and friend. While I recognize all the
attention I have received from him, all the precepts inculcated by
him ; while I feel that if I have any virtuous emotions or pleasures,
they are all derived from him, that to him I owe whatever capacity
I possess of being useful in the world I am in — ^while all these re
flections are crowding into my mind, I feel a sensation that all are
strangers to, who have not known such a friend. The feelings which
arise from a sense of gratitude for the kindness and friendship of
my father — the tender affection inspired by his virtues and his love,
are as delightful to my soul, as the knowledge of being obliged by
those we despise is painful and oppressive." A grateful heart
obliged by a worthy and beloved object, as Milton flnely says, " by
owing oives not, but finds itself at once indebted and discharged."
And again : — " The time is now at hand, when I hope you will be
relieved from all further anxiety, and the embarrassments you have
too long endured in the management of our patrimony ; yvhen my
brother and myself will take on ourselves our own troubles, and
when the end of your administration of our little affairs will furnish
the world with one complete and perhaps solitary example, shall I
only say, of an unerring guardian of infant education and property ?
An example, I glory in boasting it, of an adopted father surpassing
in parental affection, and unremitted attention to his adopted chil
dren, all the real fathers who are known to any one, I can most
sincerely and truly declare, that in no one moment of my whole life,
have I ever felt the loss in the least trifle.''
One of the debts owing by the father to creditors in England
was a simple open account, that might have been easily avoided, as
it was not binding on the estate devised to the sons. But Richard
wrote to Judge Tucker, " I urge the propriety, indeed necessity, of
paying the open account which my mother always said was recog
nized by my father as a true one, and ought therefore honestly to be
discharged. For myself I can never bear the idea of a just debt
due from my father to any one, remaining unsatisfied while I have
property of his, firmly convinced as I am that he had no equitable
right, whatever power the law may have given him, of devising me
land or any thing else, to the loss of any of his just creditors, and
that under this conviction, it will be equally iniquitous in me to re
tain suoh property, suffering these just claims to pass "unnoticed."

RICHARD RANDOLPH. 63
Nor did this noble-minded man stop here in his high sense of
right and justice. He again writes to his late guardian : — " With
regard to the division of the estate, I have only to say, that I want
not a single negro for any other purpose than his immediate libera
tion. I consider every individual thus unshackled as .the source of
future generations, not to say nations of freemen ; and I shudder
when I think that so insignificant an animal as I am, is invested
with this monstrous, this horrid power. For the land I care not a
jot. I am ready to yield all my claim to it. I am ready to yield
Matoax or its profits, and all of my Prince Edward and Cumberland
land, except a bare support, rather than see those wretches sacrificed
at the shrine of unjust and lawless power."
Eichard was bred to the profession of law, but never could oe
induced to engage in the practice. Nothing but necessity, he de
clared, could overcome his disinclination. It was not the fatigue and
disgust that repelled him so much as the chicane and low cunning,
which his observation led him to conclude were the essential qualifi
cations of a county court lawyer. " What inducement," exclaimed
he, " have I to leave a happy and comfortable home to search for
bustle, fatigue and disappointment ? I have a comfortable subsist
ence, which is enough to make me happy."
The family circle was composed of Eichard, his wife, Nancy the
sister of Mrs. Eandolph, John (Theodorick had died in February,
1791), and Mrs. Anna Bland Dudley and her children. Mrs. Dudley
was the daughter of Mrs. Eaton, the sister of John Eandolph's
mother. They lived in North Carolina. Her husband was unfortu
nate, had died and left his family poor and dependent on tEeir friends.
Eichard went himself to North Carolina, brought Mrs, Dudley and
her children to Virginia, and gave them an asylum under the hos
pitable roof of Bizarre,
John did not confine himself much to home or business. He
kept up a regular correspondence with many of his old companions ;
amused himself with his dog and gun, and visited from place to place
among his friends. As a specimen of his wanderings, we give the
following memorandum made by himself:
November, 1795.
Monday, 30. — Bizarre to D. Meade's.

34 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
December.
Tuesday, 1.— Capt. Murray's.
3.— Richmond.
Wednesday, 9.— Petersburg. «
Thursday, 17.— Left Petersburg to Jenito.
Friday, 18.— To F. Archer's and D. Meade's.
Saturday, 19.— D, Meade's to Bizan-e ; received letter from Kutledge,
Sunday, 20,— Roanoke,
Sunday, 27.— From Roanoke to Bizarre.
Tuesday, 29.— To Roanoke.
Thursday, 31.— To Bizarre.
. January, '96, New- Year's day at Bizarre.
Saturday, 2.— To Major Eggleston's. .
Sunday, 3.— Colonel Botts.
Monday, 4. — Petersburg.
Friday, 15. — At Jenito Bridge.
Saturday, 16.— At D. Meade's.
Sunday, 17.— At D. Meade's.

CHAPTEE XIV.
VISIT TO CHARLESTON AND GEORGIA.
His old friends, Bryan and Eutledge, had for some time been urging
him to pay them a visit. Bryan directed his letters to " Citizen
John Eandolph, of Charlotte county, Virginia," and says, " I am
happy to hear you are settled in a healthy part of Virginia, but I
am almost inclined to think my friend premature in settling so early,
as you will in a great measure be deprived of that freedom you know
so well how to CEJoy." He then urges him to visit Georgia, "You
will find me on the Sea-coast," says he, " and as you bribe me with a
pipe, I can promise in return best Spanish segars and the best of li
quors — good horses, deer-hunting in perfection — good companions,
that is to say, not merely bottle, crackers. Jack, but good, sound, well-
informed Democrats." ,
This long-expected visit was made in the spring of 1796. On
the back of a letter received from Eutledge, he lays out the pro
gramme of his journey, with the various distances and stages, from
Bizarre to Charleston ; then concludes the memorandum with these

VISIT TO CHARLESTON AND GEORGIA. 65
words : " Where I hope to embrace the friend of my youth ; the
sight of whom will ten thousand times repay this tedious journey,"
E, S. Thomas,- in his Reminiscences of the last Sixty-five Years,
printed at Hartford, in 1840, thus speaks of him; " On a bright sun
ny morning, early in February, 1796, might have been seen entering
my bookstore in Charleston, S, C, a fine-looking, florid complexioned
old gentleman, with hair white as snow, which, contrasted with his
own complexion, showed him to have been a free liver, or bon-vivant
of the flrst order. Along with him was a tall, gawky-looking flaxen-
haired stripling, apparently of the age from sixteen to eighteen, with
a complexion of a good parchment color, beardless chin, and as much
assumed self-consequence as any two-footed animal I ever saw. This
was John Randolph. I handed him from the shelves volume after
volume, which he tumbled carelessly over, and handed back again.
At length he hit Upon something that struck his fancy. My eye
happened to be flxed upon his face at the moment, and never did I
witness so sudden, so perfect a change of the human countenance. That
which before was dull and heavy, in a moment became animated and
flushed with the brightest beams of intellect. He stepped up to the
old gray-headed gentleman, and, giving him a thundering slap on
the shoulder, said, " Jack, look at this ! !" I was young, then, but
I never can forget the thought that rushed upon my mind at the
moment, which was that he was the most impudent youth I ever saw.
He had come to Charleston to attend the races. There was then
living in Charleston a Scotch Baronet, by the name of Sir John
Nesbit, with his younger brother Alexander, of the ancient house of
Nesbits, of Dean Hall, some fifteen miles from Edinburgh. Sir John
was a very handsome man, and as ' gallant gay Lothario' as could
be found in the city. He and Randolph became intimate, which led
to a banter between them for a race, in which each was to ride his
own horse. The race came off during the same week, and Eandolph
won ; some of the ladies exclaiming at the time, ' though Mr. Ean
dolph had won the race, Sir John had won their hearts.' This was
not so much to be wondered at, when you contrasted the elegant
form and graceful style of riding of the Baronet, with the uncouth
and awkward manner of his competitor."
From Charleston, Eandolph pursued his journey into Georgia,
and spent several months with his friend Bryan.

66 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
We cannot doubt that these young men enjoyed themselves in
the manner that young men usually enjoy themselves on such occa
sions. Bryan, in his subsequent letters, frequently alludes to some
amusing incident that occurred during the sojourn of his friend in
Georgia. " My eldest brother," says he, " still bears a friendly re
membrance of the rum ducking you gave him."
But the all-absorbing subject in Georgia, at the time of Eandolph's
visit, was the Yazoo question.
On the 7th day of February, 1795, the Legislature of Georgia
passed an act authorizing the sale of four tracts of land, therein
described, and comprehending the greater part of the country west of
the Alabama river, to four companies, called the Georgia, the Georgia
Mississippi, the Upper Mississippi, and the Tennessean Companies,
for which they were to pay five hundred thousand dollars. The land
contained within the boundaries of the several companies was esti
mated by the claimants at forty millions of acres. The sale of a
country so extensive, for a sum so far below its value, excited imme
diate and universal indignation in the State of Georgia. The mo
tives of the Legislature were questioned and examined. Their cor
ruption was established on the most indisputable evidence. Up
wards of sixty-four depositions were taken, that developed a scene of
villany and swindling unparalleled in the history of any country.
On comparing a list of the names of the companies with the names
of the persons who voted for the land, it appeared that all the mem
bers in the Senate and House of Eepresentatives of Georgia, who
voted in favor of the law, were, with one single exception, interested
in and parties to the purchase. Every member who voted for tho
law received either money or land for his vote. The guardians of
the rights of the people united with swindlers, defrauded their con
stituents, sold their votes, betrayed the delegated trust reposed in
them, and basely divided among themselves the lands of the people
of Georgia. This flagrant abusp of power, this enormous act of cor
ruption, was viewed with abhorrence by every honest man. The press
through the country burst out in a blaze of indignation. All the
grand juries of the State (except in two counties, where there were
corrupt majorities of Yazoo men,) presented this law as a public
robbery, and a deliberate fraud. The Convention which met in the
month ••• May, 1795, at Louisville, was crowded with petitions from

VISIT TO CHARLESTON AND GEORGIA. gy
every part of the State, which, by an order of the Convention, was
referred to the succeeding Legislature, This Legislature was
elected solely with reference to that question, Eepeal or no repeal,
Yazoo and anti-Yazoo, was the only subject canvassed before the
people. On the 30th of January, 1796, an act was passed, with only
three dissenting voices, declaring the usurped act of February, 1795,
void, and expunging the same from the public records. At a sub-
eequent period, this expunging act was engrafted on the Constitu
tion, and made a fundamental law of the land.
Eandolph arrived in Georgia in the midst of this excitement, and
shared with his friends their indignation at that flagrant act of cor
ruption on the part of the agents of the people. The famous Yazoo
claim, which afterwards made such a noise in Congress, was preferred
by the New England Mississippi Land Company, to recover from
Congress the value of the lands thus fraudulently obtained. It was
in opposition to this application, that Eandolph immortalized himself
in speeches that will stand the test of time, and of criticism the
severest scrutiny. It was among those who had been betrayed, in
the midst of the people who were burning with shame at the insult
and indignity offered them, that he caught the fire of inspiration that
winged his words with such a withering power as to drive from the
halls of Congress for more than ten years, so long as he had a seat
there, all those who were interested in the nefarious scheme.
John Eandolph returned from this visit of friendship, and arrived
in Virginia about the first of July. He was destined to experience
a shock such as he had never felt before. His brother Eichard died
the 14th of June, on Tuesday, about 4 o'clock in the morning; such
was the minute record made of it himself This sudden and unex
pected calamity crushed him down.
Next to the death of his mother this was the severest blow he had
ever received. His mother died when he was a child. Though
mournful, yet sweet was the memory of her image, associated with
those days of innocence and brightness. , But the strong bonds of
fraternal affection in grown up men, were now torn asunder ; the
much prized treasure of a brother's love is suddenly taken from him,
leaving no pleasant memories to soothe the pain of so deep a wound.
His best friend and counsellor, the first born of his father's house,
its pride, and cherished representative, hurried away in his absence

68 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
to an untimely grave — he not present to receive his last breath, and
to close his lifeless eyes. He never recovered from this stroke. The
anguish of his heart was as fresh on the fiftieth anniversary of the
birthday of that brother, as when first he experienced the desola
tion made in the domestic circle at Bizarre by the hand of death.
How touching is the following simple note addressed to his brother,
Henry St. George Tucker, many, many years after this sad event !
"Dear Henry: — Our poor brother Eichard was born 1770. He
would have been fifty-six years old on the 9th of this month. I can
no more. J. E. of R." In the deep solitude of his heart, the only
green spot was the memory of the days of his youth.
Few events exerted a greater influence over the mind and charac
ter of John Eandolph than the death, the untimely and sudden
death, of his brother. Eichard, as we have said, was the most pro
mising man in Virginia. John Thompson, himself a man of brilliant
genius, nipped also in the blooming, thus writes : " Grief like yours,
my dear friend, is not to be alleviated by letters of condolence. The
anguish of hearts like yours cannot be mitigated by the maxims of
an unfeeling and unnatural philosophy. Let such consolation be
administered to the insensible being, who mourns without sorrow,
whose tears fall from a sense of decorum, and whose melancholy
ceases the instant fashion permits. Let some obdurate moralist in
struct this selfish being, that the death of a friend is not a misfortune,
and that sensibility is weakness. Nothing but sympathy ought to
be offered to you. Accept that offering from one of your sincerest
friends. My heart was long divided between you and your brother.
His death has left a void which you will occupy. I will fondly cher
ish his memory. Painful as the retrospect is, I will often contem
plate tis virtues and his talents. Never shall I perform that holy
exercise without feeling new virtue infused into my soul. To you I
will give that friendship, of which he can no longer be sensible.
Take it, and return it if you can. I cannot write your brother's eulo
gium. Although his fame was only in the dawn, although like a me
teor he perished as soon as he began to dazzle, I cannot sound his
praise. His life would be a pathetic tale of persecuted genius and
oppressed innocence. The fictions of romance cannot present so af
fecting a story. When his country was preparing to do him ample
justice, and to recompense his sufferings by her warmest admiration,

AT HOME.

69

Death marked him for his victim. Modern degeneracy had not
reached him.
" Nervous eloquence and dauntless courage fitted him to save his
sinking country. He has left no memorial of his talents behind.
He was born to enlighten posterity, but posterity will not hear of
him. " 0 Providence, thy dispensations are dark ! We cannot compre
hend them ! His amiable wife, his children — but here my heart be
gins to bleed — I cannot go on."

CHAPTEE XV.
AT HOME.
John Eandolph, now became the head of a large household, was
suddenly thrown into a position of great responsibility. His own
estate was very large ; so was his brother's — and both were heavily
encumbered with a British debt, contracted by the father many years
before. Eichard liberated his slaves. This was a mark of his great be
nevolence of feeling and nobleness of character. But it proved ir
the end to be a mistaken philanthropy. Left in the country where
they had been slaves, those negroes soon became idle and profligate
vagabonds and thieves ; a burthen to themselves, and a pest to the
neighborhood. The family at Bizarre consisted of Mrs. Eandolph,
her two infant children, St. George and Tudor, Mrs. Dudley and her
children, Nancy and John Eandolph. For nearly fifteen years, till
Bizarre was destroyed by fire, he continued at the head of the houses
hold. Though twenty-three years of age at the death of his brother,
he had the appearance of a youth of sixteen, and was not grown. He
grew a full head taller after this period.
His extreme sensibility had been deeply touched — the quick
irritability of his temper exasperated by the tragic events of his
family. A father's face he had never seen, save what his lively ima
gination would picture to itself from the lines of a miniature likeness
which he always wore in his bosom. The fond caresses of a tender

70 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
mother, who alone knew him, were torn from him in his childhood
The second brother had died iii his youth ; and now the oldest, the
best, the pride and hope of the family, after years of suffering and
persecution, just as he had triumphed over calumny and oppression,
was suddenly called away. We may well imagine how deep, how
poignant was his grief, when thirty years thereafter, in the solitude
of his hermitage at Roanoke, his lively fancy brought back those
early scenes with all the freshness of recent events, and caused him
to exclaim with the Indian Chief, who had been deprived of all his
children by the white man's hand — " Not a drop of Logan's blood —
father's blood except St. George, the most bereaved and pitiable of
the step-sons of nature 1"
His room at Bizarre was immediately under the chamber of
Mrs. Dudley. She never waked in the night that she did not hear
him moving about, sometimes striding across the fioor, and exclaim
ing, " Macbeth hath murdered sleep I Macbeth hath murdered
sleep !" She has known him to have his horse saddled in the dead
of night, and ride over the plantation with loaded pistols.
His natural temper became more repulsive ; he had no confiden
tial friend, nor would any tie, however sacred, excuse inquiry. Why
should it ? for who can minister to a mind diseased, or pluck from
the heart its rooted sorrow ? Why then expose, even to friendship's
eye, the lacerated wounds that no balm can cure ?
He grew more restless than ever, though his home had every
external arrangement to make it agreeable. Hear him describe it :
" Mrs. Eandolph, of Bizarre, my brother's widow, was, beyond all
comparison, the nicest and best housewife that I ever saw. Not one
drop of water was ever suffered to stand on her sideboard, except
what was in the pitcher ; the house, from cellar to garret, and in
every part, as clean as hands could make it ; and every thing as it
should be to suit even -my fastidious taste. Never did. I see or
smell any thing to offend my senses, or my imagination," Those
who lived there had been taught in the school of affliction. Chas
tened and subdued by their own sorrows, they had learned to feel
for the misfortunes of others. That home, which could not fill the
aching void of its youthful master's heart, or soothe the earnest
longings of his wounded soul, was made the delightful retreat and

AT HOME. 71
asylum of the distressed and the unfortunate. There could they
find sympathy and encouragement.
To escape from the burden and pain of his cvwn thoughts, John
Eandolph often fled to his friends in distant parts of the country.
For the next three years he was frequently found at the residence
of his father-in-law, in Williamsburg. He often visited Mr. Wick
ham, who lived in the same city. That gentleman had taken a great
liking to him. He was the agent of the British creditors, who held
a mortgage on the Eandolph estates. His forbearance and indulgence
were highly appreciated by him on whom the whole burthen of pay
ment had now fallen. He returned this act of kindness by an ardent
affection for the man, and a high admiration of his character. He
has said, " John Wickham was my best of friends without making
any professions of friendship for me ; and the best and wisest man I
ever knew except Mr. Macon."
When interrogated by Mr. Wickham as to what he had been do
ing. Governor Tazewell, who was his youthful companion on those
visits, says his answer was — Nothing, sir, nothing ! Yet ho showed
that he had been reading, and that he had digested well what he had
read. The conversation was generally on the politics of the day —
the French Eevolution, and Burke, which was his political Bible.
That he pursued no systematic course of reading at this time is
certain. Mrs. Dudley says his habits of study one could not ascer
tain, as he was never long enough in one place to study much. She
has frequently heard him lament that he was fond of light reading —
has known him to seat himself by the candle, where she and Mrs.
Eandolph were knitting, turn over the leaves of a book carelessly, like
a child, without seeming to read, and then lay it down aid tell more
about it than those who had studied it. He had a flne taste for mu
sic, but it was uncultivated. " I inherited from your grandmother,"
says he, writing to his niece, Mrs. Bryan, " an exquisite ear, which
has never received the slightest cultivation. This is owing in a great
measure to the low estimate that I saw the fiddling, piping gentry
held in when I was young; but partly to the torture that my poor
brother used to infiict upon me, when essaying to learn to play upon
the violin, now about forty years ago. I have a taste for painting,
but never attempted drawing. I had read a great deal upon it and
had seen a few good pictures before I went to England : there I as-

72 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
tonished some of their connoisseurs as much by the facility with
which I pointed out the hand of a particular master, without refer
ence to the catalogue (I never mistook the hand of Van Dyke — I
had seen specimens of his and Eeuben's pencil, and some other great
masters, at Mr. Geo. Calvert's, near Bladensburg — they were since
sold in Europe), as by my exact knowledge of the geography, topo
graphy and statistics of the country.
" For poetry I have had a decided taste from my childhood, yet
never attempted to write one line of it. This taste I have sedulously
cultivated. I believe that I was deterred from attempting poetry by
the verses of Billy Mumford, and some other taggers of rhyme,
which I heard praised (I allude to epistles in verse, written at 12 or
13 years old), but secretly in my heart despised. I also remember
to have heard some poetry of Lord Chatham and of Mr. Fox, which
I thought then, and still think, to be unworthy of their illustrious
names — and before Horace had taught me that ' neither gods, nor
men, nor booksellers' stalls could endure middling poetry,' I thought
none but an inspired pen should attempt the task."
Among the youthful companions that he most valued and cher
ished about this time, were John Thompson, the author of the letter
in a preceding chapter, and his brother William Thompson. The
following is a memorandum in his own handwriting, and found among
his papers : " John Thompson, Jr.. son of John and Anne ^omp-
son, of Sussex, born 3d Nov. 1776, died 25th January, 1799. He
was the author of Graccus, Cassius, Curtius, written on the subject
of American politics — speak tliey for him,.'" And surely for one of
his age they were remarkable productions, especially the latter ad
dressed to General Marshall, afterwards Chief Justice, then a can
didate for Congress on the Federal side of politics. William Thomp
son was born the 20th of August, 1778. In the year 1798 he and
his friend John Eandolph undertook a pedestrian tour to the Moun
tains, to visit Eichard Kidder Meade, a relation of the latter. They
started from Bizarre, each with a small bundle on a cane. Mrs.
Dudley was an eye-witness of their departure and of their return.
She was informed that they performed the whole journey on foot
They both returned in fine health and spirits. Soon after this
Thompson went to Europe, wandered over Germany, studied medi
cine, then abandoned it for the law, returned to Virginia, went on

CANDIDATE FOR CONGRESS. 73
foot to Canada in the fall of 1801. Having squandered his patri
mony, falling into dissipated habits, with a genius equally as brilliant,
though I far more eccentric than his deceased brother, he was rapidly
throwing away the great gifts of nature, and sinking into a hopeless
vagabond and outcast, when his friend Eandolph took him by the hand,
brought him to Bizarre, made it his home, encouraged him, and cher
ished him with the affection of a brother so long as he could be per
suaded to remain in Virginia. With him hereafter the reader "svill be
come more intimately acquainted. Writing from Bizarre to Randolph,
in his absence, he says : '• My dear brother — Since you left us I have
been deeply engaged in what you advised. I have reviewed the Ro
man and the Grecian History. I have done more; I have reviewed
my own. Believe me. Jack, that I am less calculated for society than
almost any man in existence. I am not. perhaps, a vain fool, but I
have too much vanity, and I am too susceptible of flattery. I have
that fluency which will attract attention and receive applause from an
unthinking multitude. Content with my superiority, I should be
too indolent to acquire real, useful knowledge. I am stimulated by
gratitude, by friendship, and by love, to make exertions now. I feel
confldent that you will view my foibles with a lenient eye — that you
will see me prosper, and in my progress be delighted."

CHAPTEE XVI.
CANDIDATE FOE CONGEESS — ^HISTOEY OF THE TIMES.
We have now approached an important period in the life of John
Randolph. In the winter of 1799, in the twenty-sixth year of his
age, he was announced as a candidate for Congress in the district
which afterwards became so celebrated as the Charlotte district.
John Thompson, writing to his brother, then in Europe, says,
" Our friend John Randolph offers for Congress, and will probably
be elected. He is a brilliant and noble young man. He will be an
object of admiration and terror to the enemies of liberty." In ] 831,
in the last political speech he ever made, he is reported to have said
VOL. I. 4

74 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
that when he commenced his political career he had waged a warfare,:
remarkable for its fierceness — he had almost said for its ferocity —
against certain principles, and those who advocated them. When he
drew his sword to carry on that warfare, he had thrown away the
scabbard, and as he never asked for quarter, so he did not always
give it. It becomes necessary, therefore, in order to understand his
position, to give a brief and general outline of the most important
events which had occurred up to the time that he made his appear
ance on the political stage. We have already seen that the source of
party division is to be traced to the Federal Convention ; ttat those
elements of discord which have continued to agitate the country
up to this day, had their birth in the cradle of the Constitution.
Patrick Henry and George Mason were the fathers of the doctrine
of States-rights. At a subsequent period, under the auspices of
Thomas Jefferson, those doctrines were digested into the canon of a
regularly organized party that exerted a powerful influence on the
administration of government. The difference between the two par
ties. Federalist and Republican, as they respectively called them
selves at that time, was not confined to the interpretation of the
Constitution. While the one desired and the other deprecated a strong govern
ment, the spirit that inclined them to bend that instrument to their
wishes, is to be found in the mental and moral organization of the men
themselves. Those who doubted the capacity of the people for self-
government (and there were many at that time when our experiment
was untried), and believed that the only efficient control was to be
found in a strong government in the hands of the rich and well born,
naturally inclined to an interpretation that would authorize such
measures as might bring about such a state of things. Those, on the
other hand, who had full faith in the capacity of the people, com-
batted every doctrine which in their judgment tended to steal power
from the many and place it in the hands of the few. This radical
difference of sentiment, which originated in natural temperament,
and was modified by education and position in society, influenced the
judgment in its interpretation of every measure of government, and
men inclined to the one or the other side, according as they believed
the measure originated in the one or the other doctrine above men
tioned. The Republicans accused the other party of being mon-

HISTORY OF THE TIMES. 75
archists in principle, and of a design so to shape the administration
of affairs, that in time the government might assume that form.
The Republicans again were charged by their opponents with
being disorganizing levellers, and the enemies of all government.
The first great questions on which they divided were the financial
schemes of Alexander Hamilton, then Secretary of the Treasury.
With these the reader has already been made acquainted. The
legislative measures enacted from time to time to carry them into
effect, finally brought on a crisis in the whisky insurrection, as it was
called, when the people in the western counties of Pennsylvania, by
armed force, resisted the execution of the excise law. The Federal
ists were accused of goading on this rebellion, that they might have
a pretext to raise a standing army, to be used as an instrument for
forcing their schemes on the country. The Republicans were charged
with promoting discontent and insurrection, that they might destroy
all government. Unhappily, neither party gave the other credit for
honesty or patriotism ; and the people, in the heat of the contest,
were well nigh driven, in blindness and in rage, on the bayonets of
each other. The occasion, however, passed away without serious dif
ficulty ; but the bitter and hostile feelings engendered by so violent a
contest still remained, and were ready to expand themselves with
increased fury on any other occasion that might arise.
In the mean time the French Revolution had made rapid pro
gress. When the news of that event was first wafted across the
Atlantic, it was hailed with acclamation as the effort of a great nation
to shake off the yoke of despotism, and to assume their position
among people with a free and enlightened government. The events
of a single year led many to doubt the success of the experiment,
and to predict that the whole would end in anarchy. Among the
prophets of evil omen was Edmund Burke, the great master of
political philosophy. We have already seen how his great work was
seized upon by the Federalists as the ablest expounder of their
general doctrines, and of their views in particular in regard to the
tendency of the principles of the French Revolution. This was
to throw the other party to the other extreme : for true it is that the
great masses are more influenced by impulses of the heart, than the
judgments of the understanding. Paine's " Eights of Man " was set
forth as the exponent of the doctrines of the EepubUcans. Burke,

76 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
in his spirit of conservatism, pronounced a glowing eulogy on the
British Constitution. Paine denounced it as the instrument of op
pression and tyranny. It is easy to perceive the bias in the minds
of those who took Burke and those who took Paine as -their standard
of orthodoxy. When these great masters wrote, the monarchy in
France was still in existence. It was soon overturned, and a repub
lic, one and indivisible, proclaimed in its stead. This event, more
than any thing that had transpired before, stirred up the elements of
party-strife in the United States. Free and republican themselves,
the American people did not pause on the horrors that were perpe
trated, did not consider the consequences of the doctrines that were
brought into practice by the rash theorists of France ; they only saw
a great people, taking themselves as a model, struggling for their
independence. Their sympathies were awakened, and all their feel
ings enlisted in behalf of the republican cause in France. Those
who paused — -.those who suggested a doubt — were denounced as ene
mies of the people. The deep enthusiasm of a free people in favor
of those who, however erroneous, were, like themselves, seeking free
dom, did more than any other cause to build up the Eepublican party
in America, The cautions of a cold judgment, however true, cannot
weigh against the generous impulses of a warm heart. What is true
of individuals in this particular, is ten thousand times more true of
the multitude.
But the elastic spirit of freedom could not be restrained within
the limits of France. It began to spread to other kingdoms, and to
alarm, by its rapid diffusion, the monarchs of Europe. They com
bined to suppress what they called the French evil. England was at
the head of the coalition. A furious war commenced — a desperate
death-struggle for existence. One or the other must be crushed and
destroyed. Republicanism and monarchy could not exist together
on the same continent. All the deep passions of the human heart
were aroused— all the elements of destruction brought into active
operation. It was a war of Titans, and nature groaned under the
mighty toils of her warring sons. Theie could be no neutrality in
such a contest. Their wide-sweeping arms drew in, as instruments
or agents of strife, the remotest nations. America, though remote,
could not hope to escape.
Her position was too conspicuous— her example in producing tha

HISTORY OF THE TIMES. 77
present state of things in France too well known for her to escape.
England sought to drag her into the contest on the side of the allies.
France stretched forth her arms to embrace her ancient ally, and to
stand by her side on the hills of Ardenne in the same cause that had
seen them side by side on the plains of Yorktown.
The true policy of the United States was to pursue a line of
strict neutrality. In accordance with the unanimous vote of his
cabinet, Thomas Jefferson at the head as Secretary of State, General
Washington issued his proclamation, April 22d, 1793, declaring that
a state of war exists between Austria, Prussia, Sarainia, Great Britain,
and the United Netherlands, on the one part, and France on the other ;
and that the duty and interest of the United States require that they
should with sincerity and good faith adopt and pursue a conduct
friendly and impartial toward the belligerent powers. The citizens
of the United States at the same time were warned carefully to avoid
al] acts and proceedings whatsoever, which might in any manner tend
to contravene such disposition. It was impossible, however, to repress
the enthusiasm of the people in favor of the French cause. When
their minister landed at Charleston, about the time of the above
proclamation, he was marched in triumph through the Southern
States and principal towns to the capitol at Philadelphia. Pre
suming on certain privileges which he assumed to have been granted
to France in her treaty of alliance with the United States, 1778, —
emboldened by the ardent devotion of the people to the cause of
liberty, so eagerly manifested towards himself as the representative
of a sister republic, he soon threw off all restraint, treated the gov
ernment with contempt, and assumed acts of sovereignty not only
inconsistent with our rights of neutrality, but our existence as an
independent and respectable nation. This conduct led to corres
pondence, remonstrance, and irritation on both sides.
Great Britain at all times doubted the sincerity of our declaration
of impartiality, and treated with the utmost contempt our rights of
neutrality. Her naval officers insulted and menaced us in our own
ports — violated our national rights, by searching vessels and impress
ing seamen within our acknowledged jurisdiction, and in an outrage
ous manner seizing enZire crews in the West Indies, and other parts
of the world. Her licensed privateers committed the most atrocious
depredations and violences on our commerce, both in the capture and

78 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
in the after-adjudication, such as were never tolerated in any well
organised and efficient government. The Governor of Upper Canada,
in an official and formal manner, ordered settlers within our own
territory, and fkr removed from the posts they had unjustly withheld
from us, to withdraw, and forbade others to settle on the same. The
persons to whom their Indian affairs were intrusted took unusual
pains and practised every deception to keep those people in a temper
of hostility towards us.
The agents sent amongst us, as with a design to insult the coun
try, were ungracious and obnoxious characters, rancorous refugees,
who retaining all their former enmity, could see nothing through a
proper medium, and were the source of constant misrepresentation
and falsehood. The government were encouraged to permit aH these
outrages, because they were told there was a British party in Amer
ica that would not suffer the country to be involved in a war with
England. France, seeing with what boldness and impunity England com
mitted her depredations, was not slow in doing the same. She
avowed her purpose, and fulfilled it to the letter, of treating us in the
same ihanner we permitted her enemies to treat us. Such was the
deplorable condition of things within one year from the proclamation
of neutrality. As the last resort, willing to exhaust all the means of
conciliation before a declaration of war, the administration, on the
19th of April, 1794, commissioned John Jay as minister extraordi
nary to the court of London, with instructions to demand redress for
our grievances, and if occasion suited, to negotiate a treaty of amity
and commerce. A few weeks thereafter, the 28th of May, James
Monroe was sent as minister plenipotentiary to the French govern
ment, with similar instructions. The occasion was most favorable for
a negotiation with England, The campaign of 1793-4 proved disas
trous to the allied powers. The coalition was dissolved. The hot
lava fires France poured forth from her volcanic bosom consumed her
enemies. The star of the republic was in the ascendant. At such a
moment it seemed plain to the ministry that it would not do to break
with the United States. If they should drive the two republics into
a close alliance, events had already proved that the two united would
be invincible, A different line of policy, therefore, must be pursued.
Hence, when Mr, Jay arrived at the Court of St. James, he was most

HISTORY OF THE TIMES. 79
graciously received. Lord Granville was all conciliation and com
promise. He had not been engaged in the business of negotiation
many days, when the King — tough old George, who was the last to
surrender in the Revolution — said to him, " Well, sir, I imagine you
begin to see that your mission will probably be successful." " I am
happy, may it please your majesty, to find that you entertain that
idea." " Well, but don't you perceive that it is likely to be so ?"
" There are seme recent circumstances (the answer to Jay's repre
sentations) which induce me toT flatter myself that it will be so."
The king nodded with a smile, signifying that it was to those circum
stances that he alluded. It was a foregone conclusion. Peace with
the United States had now become essential to England : and that
wise nation never stands on trifles when an important object is to be
attained. Never did negotiator, beginning with such anxious forebodings,
find himself proceeding so smoothly, so satisfactorily. The treaty
was concluded and signed in London, on the 19th of November, 1794 ;
was received by the President the 7th of March following, and on the
Sth of June was submitted to the Senate for their consideration. On
the 24th, by precisely a constitutional majority, they advised and con
sented to its ratification. Although in the mind of the President
several objections had occurred, they were overbalanced by what he
conceived to be its advantages ; and before transmitting it to the
Senate he had resolved to ratify it, if approved by that body. But
before he had given his signature to the treaty, it was well ascer
tained that the British order in council of the 8th of June, 1793, for
the seizure of provisions going to French ports, had been renewed.
Apprehensive that this might be regarded as a practical interpreta
tion of an article in the treaty in regard to provisions not being con
traband of war unless in particular cases, the President wisely
determined to reconsider his decision. Marshall, in his Life of
Washington, says : " Of the result of this reconsideration there is
no conclusive testimony." It has become a matter of importance in
history to determine this fact.
It was charged that a war with France, and a consequent alliance
with England, had been the object of the executive council, from the
commencement of hostilities between those two great European pow
ers. The treaty, it was alleged, originated in that spirit. And the

80 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
circumstances and manner of its consummation were confidently al
luded to as evidence of that fact. It was well known that the Presi
dent made up his judgment with great deliberation ; and that when
once fixed he was unalterable ; he had an invincible repugnance to
retract an opinion, or retrace a step once taken.
While he was deliberating on the treaty — ^when in fact, as it
was alleged, he had determined not to sign for the present, an inter
cepted letter addressed by the French minister to his government,
was placed in the President's hands. This letter contained many
facts bearing on the character of the President, the influences that
were working on him, and deeply implicating the reputatio. of the
Secretary of State. It was alleged that the other Secretaries, into
whose hands the letter had fallen, made an unwarrantable use of it
to prejudice the mind of the President against their obnoxious col
league and the French cause, and thereby to induce him hastily to
ratify the treaty contrary to his better judgment — to drive from his
cabinet the only republican remaining in office, and to lend his aid,
though unconsciously and indirectly, to the destruction of the repub
lican cause in the United States.
Mr. Jefferson retired from the State Department in 1794, early
in January He says that he suffered martyrdom all -the time he
was in office — alluding to his single-handed and unaided efforts to
combat the heresies of Hamilton, and to resist the tendencies of the
government to yield to British influence. He was succeeded by the
Attorney General, Edmund Randolph, whose relationship to the
subject of this memoir has already been made known to the reader.
That gentleman professed to be of no party, but was understood to
be a Republican in principle, and favorably inclined to the French
cause. " The fact is," says Jefferson, " he has generally given his
principles to the one party, and his practice to the other — the oyster
to one, the shell to the other. Unfortunately, the shell was generally
the lot of his friends, the French and Republicans, and the oyster, of
their antagonists. Had he been firm to the principles he professed,
in the year 1793, the President would have been kept from an habit
ual concert with the British and anti-republican party."
Randolph declared that long before the Fauchet letter made its
appearance, the British partizans had been industrious in dissemi
nating the most poisonous falsehoods concerning him, and in his

HISTORY OF THE TIMES, gi
absence seized the advantage of uttering uncontradicted slanders ¦
boasting and insisting that in a controversy between them, he (Ran
dolph) must be sacrificed. Hamilton had retired, but was in con
stant communication with the President on all subjects of importance.
The British partisans alluded to, were Pickering and Wolcott, the
Secretary of War and of the Treasury.
With these facts before us we can now proceed with the subject in
hand. We have said that the President had determined to ratify the
treaty, if so advised by the Senate, But soon after their adjourn
ment he became satisfied that the provision order, as it was called,
had been renewed by the British govemment. He then began to
balance whether to ratify or not. In this state of mind, ''le required
the Secretary of State to hold a conversation with the British Minis
ter on the 29th June, 1795, and to tell him that by the constitution
the treaty now rested with the President, and that he had entered
into the consideration of the subject. A letter was written to the
American Minister at Paris, on the 2d of July, under the President's
eye and special correction, in which it was stated that the " President
has not yet decided upon the final measure to be adopted by himself"
He consulted with all the officers of government on several collateral
points in the treaty — consulted, as it was believed, with Hamilton on
the treaty at large — and required the Secretary of State to give his
written opinion. This opinion of the Secretary was handed in the
12th of July, 1795. Among other things, he says : " I take the
liberty of suggesting that a personal interview be immediately had
between the Secretary of State and Mr. Hammond, and that the sub
stance of the address to him be this " — (after some preliminary re
marks) : " But we are informed by the public gazettes, and by letters
tolerably authentic, that vessels, even American vessels, laden with
provisions for France, may be captured and dealt with as carrying a
kind of contraband. Upon the supposition of its truth, the President
cannot persuade himself that he ought to ratify during the existence
of the order. His reasons will be detailed in a proper representation
through you (Mr. Hammond) to his Britannic Majesty. At the
same time, that order being removed, he will ratify without delay oi
further scruple." In the morning of the 13th of July,' the President
instructed the Secretary .to have the proposed interview immediately
with Mr. Hammond, and to address him as had been suggested.
VOL. I. 4*

82 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Mr. Hammond asked, in the course of the interview, if it would
not be sufficient to remove the order out of the way ; and after the
ratification to rescind it ?
The Secretary replied with some warmth, that this would be a
mere shift, as the principle was the important thing. He then asked,
if the President was irrevocably determined, not to ratify, if the pro
vision order was not removed ? The Secretary answered, that he
was not instructed upon that , point. This conversation was imme
diately related to the President. He told the Secretary that he might
have informed Mr. Hammond that he never would ratify, if the pro
vision Older was not removed out of the way.
The President left Philadelphia for Mount Vernon, the 15th day
of July, 1795 ; and soon afterwards, the Secretary commenced draft
ing the memorial that was ^o be addressed to his Britannic Majesty.
After discussing the article of the treaty in reference to provisions,
and showing the inconsistency of the order of the 8th of June, 1793,
with that article, the memorial concludes : " The chief obstacle, which
is dependent for its removal on his Britannic Majesty, is the order
above stated. The President is too much deprived of its particulars,
to declare what shall be his irrevocable determination : but the sen
sibility which it has excited in his mind, cannot be allayed without
the most unequivocal stipulation, to reduce to the only construction
in which he can acquiesce, the article of the treaty,"
Before the President had received the memorial which he had
ordered to be drafted, he wrote to the Secretary on the 22d July,
from Mount Vernon, thus : " In my hurry I did not signify the pro
priety of letting those gentlemen (the ' Secretaries of War and the
Treasury, and the Attorney General) know fully my determination
with respect to the ratification of the treaty, and the train it was in ;
but as this was necessary, in order to enable them to form their opin
ions on the subject submitted, I take it for granted, that both were
communicated to them by you, as a matter of course. The first, that
is the conditional ratification, (if the late order, which we have heard
of respecting provision-vessels, is not in operation,) may on all fit oc
casions be spoken of as my determination, unless from any thing
you have heard, or met with since I left the city, it should be thought
more advisable to communicate with me on the subject. My opinion
^respecting the treaty is the same now that it was ; that is, not favor-

HISTORY OF THE TIMES, gS
able to it ; but that it is better to ratify it in the manner the Senate
have advised, {and toith the reservation already mentioned,) than to
suffer matters to remain as they are — unsettled,"
In answer to this the Secretary writes : " I had communicated
fully your determination with respect to the ratification. I have no
loubt that the order for seizing provision-vessels exists. Nothing
ftas occurred to prevent the speaking of that determination."
On the 29th July the President writes : " I also return, under
cover of this letter, the draft of the memorial, and the rough draft
of a ratification. These are very important papers, and, with the
instructions which follow, will require great attention and considera
tion, and are the primary cause of my returning to Philadelphia."
On the 31st he writes : '¦'¦ '^he memorial seems well designed to
answer the end proposed."
While the memorial was in the hands of the President at Mount
Vernon, it became the subject of conversation with the Heads of
Departments. Wolcott and Pickering were both opposed to any de
lay in concluding the business. Wolcott observed that it would give
the French Government an opportunity of professing to make very
extensive overtures to the United States, and thus embarrass the
treaty with Great Britain.
Pickering, on hearing the memorial, exclaimed, " 9'his, as the
sailors say, is throwing the whole up in the wind."
The President returned to Philadelphia on the llth of August.
The same evening, in presence of Pickering and Bradford, the Se
cretary of State observed, " that the sooner the memorial was re
vised by the gentlemen jointly, who were prepared with their opin
ions, the better." The President replied, " that he supposed every
thing of this sort had been settled. The Secretary said that it was
not so, as Colonel Pickering was for an immediate ratification. To
this Pickering responded : " I told Mr. Eandolph that I thought the
postponement of ratification was a ruinous step."
On the morning of the 13th of August, the letters which had
been written to foreign ministers in his absence, were laid before the
President. The one addressed to Mr. Monroe was in these words :
— " The treaty is not yet ratified by the President ; nor will it be
ratified, I believe, until it returns from England — if then. The late
British order for seizing provisions, is a weighty obstacle to a ratifi-

84 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
cation. I do not suppose that such an attempt to starve France will
be countenanced." Other letters were written of the same tenor, and
laid before the President. He made no objection to the strong ex
pressions contained in them.
There can be no question from the evidence, that up to the 13th
of August, 1795, and for a month previous, the President had deli
berately made up his mind not to sign the treaty so long as the pro
vision order was in existence. What caused the great change be
tween that time and the 18th ; for on that day he gave to the treaty
an unconditional ratification ? Marshall, in his Life of Washington,
intimates, that the great clamor raised against the treaty in the com
mercial towns, was the cause of this change in the mind of the Presi
dent. He thought that by signing the treaty at once he would put
an end to all hope of influencing the executive will by agitation.
This solution is not consistent with the character of the man. No
one despised mere popular clamor more than he did ; no one valued
more the opinion of his fellow-citizens. With a mind not suggestive.
but eminently judicious, he sought for counsel in all quarters, and
profited more by advice than any other man that ever held a public
station. He considered that the occasion called for wise and temperate
measures. In his letter of the 31st of July, to the Secretary of
State, he says : " In time, when passion shall have yielded to sober
reason, the current may possibly turn ; but in the mean while, this
Government, in relation to France and England, may be compared to
a ship between the rocks Scylla and Charybdis. If the treaty is ra
tified, the partisans of the French (or rather of war and confusion)
will excite them to hostile measures, or at least to unfriendly senti
ments : if it is not, there is no foreseeing all the consequences which
may follow, as it respects Great Britain. It is not to be inferred
from hence, that I am, or shall be disposed to quit the ground I
have taken, unless circumstances more imperious than have yet come to
my knowledge, should compel it ; for there is but one straight course
in these things, and that is, to seek truth and pursue it steadily."
He then instructs the Secretary to be attentive to all the resolutions
that might come in, and to all the newspaper publications, that he
might have all the objections against the treaty which had any
weight in them, embodied in the memorial addressed to the British

THE FAUCHET LETTER. 35
king, or in the instructions to the American Minister at London. It
cannot be presumed, therefore, that the excitement in the country
against the treaty, was the cause, or at least the principal cause of
the sudden change in the determination of the President. We must
look to some cfther source for a solution of this difficulty.

CHAPTEE XVII.
THE FAUCHET LETTEE,
On the 31st day of October, 1794, about the time of the whisky in
surrection, and Jay's negotiation in London, the French Minister
forwarded a dispatch to his government, entitled " Private Corres
pondence of the Minister on Politics, No. 10."
This letter on its way was captured by a British cruiser, placed in
the hands of Lord Grenville, and by him forwarded to the Minister
here (Mr. Hammond), with instructions to use it for the benefit of
his Majesty's service. When the letter came to Hammond, he made
known the contents to Mr. Wolcott, Secretary of the Treasury, but
did not intimate a desire that it might be communicated to the Pre
sident. Wolcott himself suggested it, and asked that it might be
placed in his hands for that purpose. Hammond at first declined,
but finally consented, on condition that a certified copy should be
left in his hands. Wolcott received the letter the 28th day of July,
1795, while the President was at Mount Vernon. He immediately
showed it to Mr. Pickering. It was their opinion that its contents
were of so delicate and important a nature that they ought to be im
parted to the President without delay, and with the utmo^ secrecy.
Any open attempt to effect this end, they thought might excite the
suspicion of Mr. Randolph. The first hint of the matter was com
municated to the President in a letter from Mr. Pickering in the
following words : " July 31st — On the subject of the treaty, I confess
I feel extreme solicitude, and,jfey a^pedal reason, which can be com
municated to you only in person, I entreat, therefore, that you will
return with all convenient speed to the seat of government. In tha

86 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
mean time, for the reason above referred to, I pray you to decide on
no important political measure in whatever form it may be presented
to you. Mr. Wolcott and I (Mr. Bradford concurring) waited on
Mr. Eandolph, and urged his writing to request your return. He
wrote in our presence." Just the day before, Eandolph had written
to tiie President — " As soon as I had the honor of receiving your
letter of the 24th instant, I conferred with the Secretaries of the
Treasury and of War upon the necessity or expediency of your re
turn hither at this time. We all concurred that neither the one nor
the other existed, and that the circumstance would confer upon the
things which had been and are still carried on, an importance which
it would not be convenient to give them," After receiving the above
mysterious letter from Pickering, which perhaps arrived the same
day with Ea,ndolph's, the President hastened to the seat of govern
ment. He arrived on the llth of August, and the contents of
Fauchet's intercepted letter were made known to him the same day.
In this private correspondence, after stating that the dispatches of
himself and colleagues had been confined to a naked recital of facts,
the Minister thus proceeds : — " I have reserved myself to give you,
as far as I am able, a key to the facts detailed in our reports. * * *
The previous confessions of Mr. Eandolph alone throw a satisfactory
light upon every thing that comes to pass. * * * I shall, then, en
deavor to giTO you a clue to all the measures, of which the common
dispatches give you an account ; and to discover the true causes of
the explosion, which it is obstinately resolved to repress with great
means (the whisky insurrection), although the state of things has
no longer any thing alarming." * * * He then undertakes to give a
history of the primitive division of parties — Federalists and Anti-
Federalists. Speaks of the whimsical contrast between the name
and the real opinion of the parties — the former aiming with all their
power to annihilate Federalism, while the latter were striving to
preserve it. These divisions, he proceeds to say, originated in the
system of finances, which had its birth in the cradle of the consti
tution. It created a financiering class, who threaten to become the
sristoeratical order of the State. He then continues, in the fifth
paragraph, in these words : " It is useless to stop longer to prove
that the monarchical system was interwoven with those novelties of
finance, and that the friends of the latter favored the attempts which

THE FAUCHET LETTER. 37
were made, in order to bring the constitution to the former by in
sensible gradations. The writings of infiuential men of this party
prove it (alluding to Mr. Adams's Discourses on Davila) ; their real
opinions, too, avow it, and the journals of the Senate are the deposi
tory of the first attempts."
He speaks of the sympathy of this party with the regenerating
movements of France, whUe running in monarchical paths ; and
after an account of the rapid increase and consolidation of the Anti-
Federal party, under the name of patriots and republicans, he thus
proceeds : — " In every quarter are arraigned the imbecility of the
Government towards Great Britain, the defenceless state of the
country against possible invasions, the coldness towards the French
Eepublic — the system of finance is attacked, which threatens eternizing
the debt, under pretext of making it the guarantee of public happi
ness ; the complication of that system which withholds from general
inspection all its operations — the alarming power of the influence it
procures to a man whose principles are regarded as dangerous — the
preponderance which that man acquires from day to day in public
measures, and, in a word, the immoral and impolitic modes of taxa
tion which he at first presents as expedients, and afterwards raises
to permanency." He then speaks of the eaxise law — the navigation of the Missis
sippi, and the system for the sale of public lands, as being the
principal sources of discontent to the Western people, and the cause
of their rebellion. " At last," says he, " the local explosion i ¦
effected. * * * The Government which had foreseen it, reproduced,
under various forms, the demand of a disposable force which might
put it in a state of respectable defence. Defeated in this measure,
who can aver that it may not have hastened the local eruption, in
order to make an advantageous diversion, and t6 lay the more gene
ral storm which it saw gathering ? Am I not authorized in forming
this conjecture from the conversation which the Secretary of State
had with me and Le Blanc, above, an account of which you have
in my dispatch. No. 3 ? But how may we expect that this new plan
will be executed ? — By exasperating and severe measures, authorized
by a law which was not solicited till the close of the session. This
law gave to the one already existing for collecting the excise, a coercive
force which hitherto it had not possessed, and a demand of which

88 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
was not before ventured to be made. * * * * This was undoubtedly
what Mr. Eandolph meant in telling me that under pretext of giving
energy to tlie Government, it was intended to introduce absolute
power, and to mislead the President in paths %vhich would conduct
him to unpopularity."
He then proceeds to describe the successful efforts to raise an
army, and to gain over certain influential characters, and continues
thus : " The Secretary of this State possessed grt at influence in the
popular societies of Philadelphia, which in its turn influenced those
of other States • of course he merited attention. It appears, therefore,
that those men, with others unknown to me, all having, without doubt,
Eandolph at their head, were balancing to decide on this party. Two
or three days before the proclamation was published (in reference to
the whisky insurrection 25th September, 1794), and of couise before
the cabinet had resolved on its measures, Mr. Eandolph came to see me
with an air of great eagerness, and made to me the overtures of which
I have given you an account in my No. 6. Thus, with some thou
sands of dollars, the republic would have decided on civil war, or on
peace. Thus the consciences of the pretended patriots of America
have already their prices, * * * What will be the old age of this
Government if it is thus early decrepit. Such, citizen, is the evident
consequence of the system of finances conceived by Mr. Hamilton.
He has made of a whole nation, a stock-jobbing, speculating, selfish
people. * * * * Still, there are patriots of whom I delight to enter
tain an idea worthy of that imposing title. Consult Monroe — he is
of this number ; he had apprised me of the men whom the current of
events had dragged along as bodies devoid of weight. His friend
Madison is also an honest man. Jefferson, on whom the patriots
cast their eyes to succeed the President, had foreseen these crises.
He prudently retired, in order to avoid making a figure against his
inclination in scenes, the secret of which will soon or late be brought
to light."
These are the leading and essential facts in the intercepted letter.
And they certainly contain very grave charges. The men in power
are accused ef a design of changing the government into a monarchy ;
Clothing the President with absolute power, and fomenting a rebel
lion, that they might have a pretext to raise a standing army to
enforce their designs. The pretended patriots of the country are

THE FAUCHET LETTER.

89

accused of venality and corruption — the highest officer under Govern
ment charged with making overtures to the, minister of a foreign
power for money ; and it is alleged that none but those who are op
posed to the Administration are trustworthy and honest.
It is not surprising that a communication of this sort, addressed
by a foreign minister to his Government, whose feeling of friendship
to our own was extremely questionable, falling into the hands of one
of the parties implicated, should excite his indignation and create in
him a desire to have the truth of the charges investigated. But thfe
use made of that letter by the triumvirate, Wolcott, Pickering, and
Bradford, to destroy an obnoxious rival and to crush the rising ener
gies of a hateful party, cannot be justified. The wicked and Jesuiti
cal doctrine, that all is fair in politics, may sanction ths means in
the end ; but the pen of the historian must condemn, under all cir
cumstances, both the principle* and its application. Eandolph was a
colleague of those men — held the highest station in the executive de
partment of Government — was in the most intimate relations with
them, holding daily and hourly communications on the gravest sub
jects of state. He was reputed to be among the first gentlemen of
his age — ^possessed a high reputation, and an unblemished character
for integrity and honor. A paper falls into the hands of his intimate
and daily associates, written by an ignorant and prejudiced foreigner,
in which this man is charged with being accessible to a bribe. What
line of conduct do they pursue ? It seems that in a formal dispatch
of the foreign minister. No. 6, the facts are stated from which he
draws his injurious inference. Did the triumvirate call for that doc
ument so obviously necessary as a means of explaining the injurious
charges ? • It was in the hands of the same individual from whom
they had obtained the first communication. But they made no in
quiry for it ; did, not seem to wish to know that the means of expla
nation were in their reach, or in existence. Did they communicate
the contents of the letter to their implicated colleague, that he might
exculpate himself from its charges ? ' They kept it a profound secret
from him — held frequent conclaves over it — considered it extremely
important, and concluded that the President must be informed of it,
but in the most secret manner, lest the implicated person might take
the alarm. They even go to him, and induce him in their presence
to write to the President, requesting his immediate return to the seat

90 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
of government, Not content with this, one of the party writes him
self, stating that he is very solicitous about the treaty, and/w a spe
cial reason, thus connecting the fate of the treaty with the contents
of the intercepted letter. Was this acting fairly towards their col
league ? It was not treating him even as a gentleman. Their con
duct can only be compared to that of a bailiff or town beadle, who
has gotten some clue on a suspected character, towards whom he
must act with the utmost caution and secrecy, lest he might snuff
suspicion in the wind and take to fiight.
Nor was their conduct at all mitigated by the return of the
President. They beset him the moment of his arrival ; the inter
cepted letter was placed in his hands the same evening ; a cabinet
council was called the next morning to deliberate on the treaty. Not
a breath was uttered to Eandolph by the President, that he was sus
pected of treachery to himself, and of having made overtures for a
bribe to betray his country. On the contrary, an unusually cordial
manner is observed towards him. He is called on to give his opinion
on the subject of ratification. He repeats the same arguments he
had used before ; he contended that the treaty did not warrant the
provision order, and that the President could not sign the treaty so
long as the order existed ; because we had already acknowledged, on
the 7th of September, 1793, that a permission to Great Britain to ex
ercise such a power, would be a just cause of war to France ; that we
should be inconsistent in our discussions with the French minister ;
because when he remonstrated upon the extension of contraband by
the treaty, it was answered that we did not alter the law of nations ;
but now we should desert what was contended to be the law of na
tions, in two letters to Mr. Hammond ; that we should run the haz
ard of a war with France, by combining to starve her ; and that her
discontents were the only possible chance remaining to the British
partisans for throwing us into the arms of Great Britain, by creating
a seeming necessity of an alliance with the latter power. These co
gent arguments had already been urged on the President ; he felt
their force, and had determined, as the reader cannot doubt, not to
sign so long as the provision order existed, and had taken his mea
sures accordingly. How are, these arguments met now ? Let it bo
remembered that on the morning of this very day, it was circulated
in the coffee-houses by Hammond, the British minister, and his par-

THE FAUCHET LETTER. 91
tisans, that Eandolph was at the bottom of the town meetings which
had been gotten up to denounce the treaty (and which actually burnt
a copy of the treaty in front of Hammond's house, by the hands of
the common hangman), and that there was a conspiracy, of which
Randolph was a member, to destroy the popularity of the President,
and to thrust Mr. Jefferson into his chair. No one can doubt that
these rumors designedly put afloat, were carefully related to the
President by his faithful and disinterested ministers, so that when
Randolph concluded his speech, the very arguments that had weighed
with the President before, were now evidences of his guilt — cvn-
firmations strong as proofs of Holy Writ. Pickering and Wolcott
answered in the most excited and intemperate manner ; urged the
immediate ratiflcation of the treaty, and charged that the struggle to
defeat it was the act of a detestable and nefarious conspiracy. There
was a unanimous vote for immediate unconditional ratification, so
far as the provision order was concerned ; but to be accompanied
with a remonstrance on that subject. The President receded from
his determination, and consented to ratify. The necessary papers
were prepared, and on the 18th of August, 1795, the President affixed
his signature to the treaty. All this struck the Secretary of State
with astonishment. He did not know how to account for it. All
the while he was treated with unusual courtesy. Two days after the
President had determined to sign the treaty, on the 14th of the
month, he paid a private and friendly visit to Mr, Randolph's house ;
invited him next day in the most cordial manner to dine with a narty
of chosen friends, and placed him at the foot of the table as a mark
of respect and confidence. On the 18th, the day of the ratification,
the same air of cordiality was assumed. But good, easy man, while
his honors were thus ripening, next day there came a nipping frost.
On Wednesday, the 19th of August, 1795, while going to the
President's at the usual hour, nine dclock in the morning, he was
met by the steward, who informed him that the President desired
him to postpone his visit till half past ten. On reaching the door at
the appointed hour, he was surprised to learn that the President had
been closeted with his colleagues for more than an hour. On enter
ing the room, the President rose from his chair, and received him
with marked formality. After a few words, the President drew a
letter from his pocket, and said : " Mr. Randolph, here is a letter

92 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
which I desire you to read, and make such explanations as youi
choose.'' After he had read the letter, and some little conversation had en
sued, the President requested Messrs. Wolcott and Pickering to in
terrogate him ! In a short time he was requested to leave the room,
that they might consult on what had been said ! Can the reader come
to any other conclusion, than that the mind of the President had
been worked up to prejudge the case ? Can any one believe that the
great and good Washington would have acted in a manner so precipi
tate in itself, so injurious and humiliating to a long tried friend, and
a faithful, confidential officer, unless his passions had been excited
by some undue influence, exerted over his peculiar temper and cha
racter ?
Who can doubt, after a review of all the facts connected with
this transaction, that Randolph, as he declared himself, was the me
ditated victim of party spirit ? Who can doubt that Wolcott and
Pickering, by their artful insinuations, and earnegt commentaries on
the intercepted letter, had induced the President to believe that
there was in truth a detestable and nefarious conspiracy to defeat
the treaty ? — that there was a dark design of replacing him by an
other President ; and that his Secretary of State, in whom he had
placed the most unbounded confidence, had been convicted of a cor
rupt attachment to France, and of perfidy to himself. The more wo
read and learn of Washington and his acts, the more exalted our
judgment becomes of his virtue and purity. The more the days of
his mortality recede from us, the more sublime and godlike his cha
racter appears. But when we go back to the times when he wrought
on earth with other men, and performed his part on the public stage,
we perceive that he had like passions with ourselves, and like us,
was liable to err.
The ratification of such a treaty would at any time have created
a strong hostility to the administration that advised it. It was cer
tainly very defective. We say nothing about the objections raised
against it, under the infiuence of the party excitement of the times.
Much allowance must be made for them ; but the negotiator himself
admitted that the subjects of difficulty were merged in the treaty,
but not settled. Time has proved the truth of his admission. The
late war with Great Britain — the more recent difficulties on the

THE FAUCHET LETTER.

93

boundary question, all grew out of the unsettled questions of dispute
merged in the treaty. It was evidently made for a temporary pur
pose — to serve the nonce-^wx^ perhaps that was all that could have
been expected. The President did not approve it. The more he
thought of it, the less he liked it, ' But that there might be some set
tlement of the perplexing and threatening difficulties between the
two nations, he consented to ratify, if the Senate advised. The rati
fication of such a treaty, under any circumstances, would have en
countered formidable opposition. But when it was made known that
the President, under the influence of a party intrigue, had been hur
ried into a premature ratification, contrary to his better judgment,
with the British order in council staring him in the face, which
8 jemed to have been issued in contempt of the treaty, as a license to
plunder our defenceless commerce, the storm that was raised cannot
well be imagined. T he great Washington rose into the pure empy
rean of a clear conscience ; but the guilty beings below were swept
away by the tempest. All who had any thing to do with this busi
ness were treaty foundered, and ingulfed in the torrent that soon
swept over the land.
It was predicted, as a sequel to these transactions, that Monroe
would be recalled from Paris. In December, 1795, only three
months after the ratification, Mr. Jefferson writes : " I should not
wonder if Monroe were to be recalled, under the idea of his being of
the partisans of France, whom the President considers as the parti
sans of war and confusion, in his letter of July 31st, and as disposed
to excite them to hostile measures, or at least to unfriendly senti
ments; a most infatuated blindness to the true character of the
sentiments entertained in favor of France." Sure enough, the sub
ject was soon made the theme of cabinet consultation ; and on the 2d
day of July, 1796, it was resolved to recall him. " We think," said
the Heads of Department, in their communication to the President,
" the great interests of the United States require that they have near
the French government some faithful organ to explain their real
views, and to ascertain those of the French. Our duty obliges us to be
explicit. Although the present Minister Plenipotentiary of the United
States at Paris has been amply furnished with documents to explain
the views and conduct of the United States, yet his own letters au
thorize us to say, that he has omitted to use them, and thereby ex-

94 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH,
posed the United States to all the mischiefs which would flow from
jealousies and erroneous conceptions of their views and conduct.
Whether this dangerous omission arose from such an attachment to
the cause of France as rendered him too little mindful of the inter
ests of his own country, or from mistaken views of the latter, or from
any other cause, the evil is the same." After speaking of his confi
dential correspondence with the notorious enemies of the whole sys
tem of government, and of certain anonymous letters, which they en
tertained no doubt were written with the privity of Mr. Monroe, they
proceed : " The anonymous communications from officers of the
United States in a foreign country, on matters of a public nature,
and which deeply concern the interests of the United States in rela
tion to that foreign country, are proofs of sinister designs, and show
that the public interests are no longer safe in the hands of such men.''
On the Sth of July, from Mount Vernon, the President invited
Charles Cotesworth Pinkney, of Charleston, to succeed Mr. Monroe.
In his private and confidential letter to that gentleman, he says :
" The situation of affairs, and the interests of this country, as they
relate to France, render it indispensably necessary, that a faithful
Organ near that Government, able and willing to explain its views and
to ascertain those of France, should immediately fill the place of our
present Minister Plenipotentiary at Paris."
From this period not a friend of the French cause remained in
the administration of affairs. Jefferson, foreseeing the tendency of
events, had prudently retired, after having suffered a three years'
martyrdom. Randolph had been ignomiuiously driven from the
cabinet ; and Monroe recalled, not only with the charge of infidelity
to his Government, but under the accusation of sinister designs against
his country.It was proclaimed in the newspapers, in political meetings, on the
hustings, every where, that the friends of liberty are for an intimate
union vnth Prance. The partisans of slavery prefer an alliance
idth England. On the other hand, the President had declared and
acted on the belief, that the friends of France were the partisans of
war and confusion. " A most infatuated blindness," said Jefferson,
" to tlw true character of the sentiments entertained in favor of
France .'" '
The reader cannot mistake, at this rate, how things were tending.

MR. MONROE. 95
The person and character of the President were no longer respected.
The Republicans were resolved that their opponents should not shel
ter themselves behind the eegis of his fame. They considered that
he had descended into the arena of strife, and were determined that
he should share the fate of other combatants.
Happily for him, he soon sought repose in voluntary retirement.
The reins of government fell into other hands. On the 4th of March,
1797, this pure patriot entered the shades of Mount Vernon with in
finitely more pleasure than he had ever passed the threshold into the
cabinet of power. However much some of the measures of his admin
istration may be condemned, his own motives are above suspicion.
If ever a man had in view the exaltation of the character of 'his own
country, impressing on it a pure American stamp, free from all
foreign alloy, he had. Whether all the measures advocated by him
tended to that end is another question. The historian must not be
deterred from a critical examination into them from the fear of tar
nishing his great name. That is impossible ! From the clouds of
party it has come out all the brighter for the mists by which it was
temporarily enveloped.

CHAPTEE XIX.
ME. MONEOE — FEANCE — ME. ADAMS ELECTED PEESIDENT.
The charges against Mr. Monroe were unjust, and his recall an im
politic measure, unless the Government had determined not to send
a successor, for which there was sufficient reason. Nothing but the
intemperate zeal of such partisans as Pickering and Wolcott could
have advised the course pursued. The strangest part of the business
is that General Washington should have yielded so completely to
their views. He speaks more harshly, if possible, than they do, not
only of Mr, Monroe's conduct, but of his motives. He charges him
with misrepresenting his own Government, an undue condescension
to that of France, and alleges that he was promoting the views of a
party in his own country, that were obstructing every measure of the

96 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Administration, and, by their attachment to France, were hurrying
it {if not with design, at least in its consequences), into a war with
Great Britain, in order to favor France, He further charges that
this French party had brought the country to a most degraded and
humiliating condition ; and that our Minister at Paris had been the
principal actor in its accomplishment. That he was timid in his de
mands of justice, and over zealous in his efforts to conciliate the
French people, cannot be doubted. But he had a most difficult part
to perform. His open reception by the National Convention — the
fraternal embrace in the midst of shouts and acclamation, and his un
reserved declarations of attachment to the French cause, were not at
all diplomatic. The people of Paris, who were the Government in
fact, would have consented to no other kind of reception. Fond of
exhibition and excitement at all times, they could not let an occasion
of that sort pass quietly by without considering that they had cast a
slight on the representative of a sister Republic. At the same time,
the whole nation were thoroughly impressed with the belief that we
owed our existence to them ; that their timely alliance had sustained
our cause against the arms of England, and their powerful influence
in negotiation had secured our Independence. They were taught
this lesson not only by their own Government, and the thousands of
Frenchmen who fought in our armies, but they were taught it by the
statesmen of America, her orators, her poets, her historians, and all
her diplomatic agents abroad. All France was penetrated with a
belief that we owed them a debt of gratitude that no service could
repay. Whether right or wrong, such was the national faith. They
were now engaged in a war with the very nation from whose tyran
nous oppression they had plucked us — their own hereditary enemy
of a thousand years — a war destructive, vindictive, exterminating.
So soon, therefore, as it was known that the United States had sent
an envoy to negotiate a treaty with England, their suspicions were
awakened. They doubted the sincerity of our declarations of friend
ship, and insisted that Mr. Monroe was merely sent to blind and lull
them into repose, while the real design was a close a,lliance with their
mortal foe. In vain did the Minister declare that no treaty would
be made with England that would affect the rights of France. There
is no reasoning in detail with the multitude ; special facts make but a
slight impression, they are governed by broad and universal truths.

FRANCE. 97
It was impossible to persuade the French mind that the United
States meant well in seeking to form a treaty with their enemies,
while they were impressed with the belief that they owed their exist
ence, independence, and an immense debt of gratitude to France,
Whenever Mr. Monroe made a demand for the redress of our many
grievances, he was at once met with the charge of ingratitude, and
was threatened with the displeasure and hostility of France, if the
treaty then in progress at London should be consummated. So soon
as it was known that a treaty had been made, and that it had been
advised by the Senate and ratified by the President, the hostility of
the French Government and the indignation of the people knew no
bounds^ The harassing decrees of Government, the depredations
on American commerce, the atrocious cruelties committed on her
seamen and citizens were worse than if there had been an open decla
ration of war ; for then all merchant vessels would have been kept at
home. It was declared by the Government that these things were
done in consequence of the British treaty. They now began to draw
a distinction between the Administration and the people of the United
States. They imagined that a large majority were friendly to an
alliance with France. The first appeal was made by the minister
Adet, in the autumn of 1796, with a view of influencing the presiden
tial election. Mr. Adams was considered as the representative of
the Administration, or English party, and Mr. Jefferson the repre
sentative of the French party. The next occasion on which this
spirit was manifested , in the most remarkable degree, was in the
month of December, 1796, by the Directory. When Mr, Monroe
presented his letters of recall, and the letters of credence of General
Pinckney, who the reader knows had been appointed to succeed him,
he was told that the Directory would not acknowledge nor receive
another Minister Plenipotentiary from the United States, until after
the redress of grievances demanded of the American Government,
and which the French Government had a right to expect from it.
He was, at the same time, told that this determination allowed to
subsist between the French Republic and the American' people, the
affection founded upon former benefits and reciprocal interests, and
that he himself had cultivated this affection by every means in his
power. And to his valedictory address, the President of the Execu
tive Directory thus replied : — " Mr. Minister Plenipotentiary of the

98 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
United States of America., by presenting to-day your letters of recall
to the Executive Directory, you give to Europe a very strange spec
tacle. France, rich in her liberty, surrounded by a train of victories,
strong in the esteem of her allies, will not abase herself by calcula
ting the consequences of the condescension of the American Govern-
ment to the suggestions of her former tyrants. Moreover, the French
Eepublic hopes that the successors of Columbus, Raleigh, and Penn —
always proud of their liberty^^^/^ never forget that they owe it lo
France. They will weigh in their wisdom the ma,gnanimous benevo
lence of the French people, with the crafty caresses of certain perfidi
ous persons who meditate bringing them back to their former slavery.
Assure the good American people, sir, that, like them, we adore
liberty ; that they will always have our esteem, and that they wUl
find in the French people republican generosity, which knows how
to grant peace, as it does to cause its sovereignty to be respected."
While Mr. Monroe was assured that he had combated for prin
ciples, had known the true interests of his country, and that they
parted from him with regret. General Pinckney was treated in the
most disrespectful manner. In no manner was he recognized in his
official capacity, — was refused the usual cards of hospitality on which
his personal safety depended, and like an ordinary stranger, was left
wholly to the regulations of the Paris police. And about the first of
February, 1797, the very day that Bonaparte's brilliant termination
of the Italiar campaigns was announced, he was ordered to quit
Paris, and to pass beyond the confines of France.
The news of the election' of Mr. Adams to the presidency, arrived
in Paris about the first of March. This filled the measure of hos
tile feelings on the part of the Directory : they were now ready for
any extremity. The unfriendly sentiments of Mr. Adams were well
known in France; and they were cordially recigrocated. Those
feelings began to develope themselves at an early period. And it is
important at this point of our history, that the reader should know
their origin.
In the summer of 1780 Mr. Adams was in Paris, charged with
three distinct commissions from the Congress of the Confederation :
first, to take a share in any future negotiations for peace ; second;
to conclude a treaty of commerce with Great Britain ; third, to re
present, the United; States. a,t the Court of London. At that time

FRANCE. 99
there was not the slightest prospect of peaee. Cornwallis was
marching triumphantly through the southern provinces, and Eng
land was in high hopes of subjugating her revolted colonies. At this
conjuncture, Mr. Ada.ms proposed to make known to the Court of
London that he held- a commission to conclude a treaty of commerce
with Great Britain, and to represent the United States at the Court
of London, As he was required to do, he consulted the Count de
Vergennes on the subject That nobleman, the Secretary for Foreign
Affairs, ridiculed it as an ill-timed and visionary proposition. To
be solicitous about a treaty of commerce, before independence was
established, he thought was like being busy about furnishing a house
before the foundation was laid. He told Mr. Adams that the Bri
tish ministry would consider the communication as ridiculous, and
would either return no answer, or an insolent one.
Mr. Adams still insisted on the propriety of his course, entered
into an elaborate argument to prove it, and was very intemperate in
his language and insinuations as to the motives of France, and
showed an overweening desire either to figure himself in the Court
of London, or to form a close commercial alliance with England as
the best means of securing independence to his country. He evi
dently showed no disposition to rely on the good intentions of France
in the business.
The Count de Vergennes at length inclosed a copy of his corre
spondence with Mr. Adams, to Dr. Franklin, accompanied with these
remarks ; — " You will find, I think, in the letters of that plenipoten
tiary, opinions and a tone which do not correspond either with the
manner I explained myself to him, or with the intimate connection
which subsists between the king and the United States. You will
make that use of these pieces which your prudence shall suggest.
As to myself, I desire that you will transmit them to Congress, that
they may know the line of conduct which Mr. Adams pursues with
regard to us, and that they may judge whether he is endowed, as
Congress no doubt desires, with that conciliating spirit which is ne
cessary for the important and; delicate business with which he is in
trusted." The communication was made to Congress ; and that body re
sponded to Mr Adams, that they did not doubt his correspondence
with the Count de Vergennes flowed from his zeal and assiduity in

100 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
the service of his country, but that the opinions of that minister were
well-founded, and that he must be more cautious in future. Mr.
Adams never forgot or forgave this insult to his vanity and self es
teem, which were ruling traits in his character. He soon left for
Holland, where he remained till negotiations •.for peace had com
menced in Paris, in November, 1782. When he arrived on the
scene of action, Mr. Jay and Dr. Franklin, two of the associate com
missioners, had made considerable progress in the negotiation. The
whole matter was talked over to him, and he very soon displayed his
suspicions of the sincerity and motives of France. In his correspond
ence he thus writes : — "Paris, Nov. 1782. When I speak of this
(French) Court, I know not that any other minister (Count de Ver
gennes) is included than that of Foreign Affairs. A whole system of
policy is now as glaring as the day, which perhaps Congress and the
people of America have little suspicion of The evidence now results
from a large view of all our European negotiations. The same prin
ciple and the same system have been uniformly pursued from the
beginning of my knowledge in Europe, in April, 1778, to this hour.
In substance it has been this : — In assistance afforded us in naval
force and in money, to keep us from succumbing, and nothing more :
To prevent us from ridding ourselves wholly of our enemies, and
from growing rich and powerful : To prevent us from obtaining ac
knowledgments of our independence by other foreign powers, and
from acquiring consideration in Europe, or any advantage in the
peace, but what is expressly stipulated in the treaties : To deprive
us of the Grand Fishery, the Mississippi river, the Western lands,
and to saddle us with the tories." The friends of Mr. Adams even
went so far as to say, that Dr. Franklin favored, or did not oppose
the designs of France against the United States ; and that it was
entirely owing to the firmness, sagacity, and disinterestedness of Mr.
Adams, with whom Mr, Jay united, that we had obtained those im
portant advantages. Dr. Franklin, in allusion to this subject, says :
" He (Mr. Adams) thinks the French minister one of the greatest
enemies of our country ; that he would have straitened our bounda
ries, to prevent the growth of our people ; contracted our fishery to
obstruct the increase of our seamen; and retained the royalists
amongst us, to keep us divided ; that he privately opposed all our ne
gotiations with foreign courts, and afforded us, during the war, the as-

MR. ADAMS ELECTED PRESIDENT. IQl
sistance we received, only to keep it alive, that we might be so much
the more weakened by it ; that to think of gratitude to France is the
greatest of follies, and that to be influenced by it would ruin us. He
makes no secret of his having these opinions — expresses them pub
licly, sometimes in ;^resence of the English ministers, and speaks of
hundreds of instances, which he could produce in proof of them. If
I were not convinced of the real inability of this Court to furnish the
further supplies we asked, I should suspect these discourses of a per
son in his station might have influenced the refusal — (at that very
moment, the king of France had postponed his own creditors, that he
might furnish means to sustain the credit of the United States ;) —
but I think they have gone no further than to occasion a suspicion,
that we have a considerable party of anti- Galileans in ^^merica,
who are not tories, and consequently, to produce some doubts of the
continuance of our friendship. As such doubts may hereafter have
a bad effect, I think we cannot take too much care to remove them ;
and it is, therefore, I write this to put you on your guard (believ
ing it my duty, though I know I hazard by it a mortal enmity), and
to caution you respecting the insinuations of this gentleman against
this Court, and the instances he supposes of their ill will to us, which
I take to be as imaginary as I know his fancies to be, that Count de
Vergennes and myself are continually plotting aigainst him, and em
ploying the news-writers of Europe to depreciate his character. But
as Shakspeare says, " Trifles light as air," &c. I am persuaded^
however, that he means well for his country, is always an honest
man, often a wise one, but sometimes, and in some things, absolutely
out of his senses."
This was the man elected President of the United States, Suoh
were the opinions and sentiments entertained by him in regard to
France, which time and the revolution in that country had only de
veloped and strengthened.
So soon as this election was known, and avowedly in consequence
of it, the Executive Directory, on the 2d of March, 1797, decreed
that the treaty concluded on the sixth of February, 1778, between
France and the United States, was modified of full right by that
which had been concluded at London on the nineteenth of November,
1794, between the United States of America and England ; and in
eonsequence thereof, decreed further, that all merchandise of the

102 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
enemy's, all merchandise not sufficiently ascertained to be neutral,
conveyed under American flags, shall be confiscated ; that every
thing which serves directly or indirectly to the arming and equipping
of vessels, shall be contraband — that every American who shall hold
a commission from the enemies of France, as weH as every seaman of
that nation, composing the crew of the ships and vessels, shall, by
this fact alone, be declared piratical, and treated as such, without
suffering the party to establish that the act was the consequence of
threats or violence ; that every American ship shall be deemed a
lawful prize, which shall not have on board a bill of lading {role
d'equipage) in due form, according to the plan annexed to the treaty
of the sixth of February, 1778. This was in fact a declaration of
war in disguise. It was so intended. The Government avowed their
determination to fleece the Ameriean citizens of their property, to a
sufficient degree to bring them to their feeling in the only i\erve in
which it was presumed titieir sensibility lay, which was their pecuniary
interest. When Mr. Adams was inaugurated on the fourth of March, 1797,
he was ignorant of this decree ; he only knew that General Pinckney
had been refused earedence as Minister Plenipotentiary, and had been
ordered to leave France.
Notwithstanding this, he expressed a desire for reconciliation.
Meeting with Mr. Jefferson, who had come to Philadelphia to take
upor himself the duties of Vice-President, to which office he had
just been elected, Mr. Adams entered immediately on an explanation
of the situation of our affairs with France, and the danger of rupture
with that nation, a rupture which would convulse the attachments of
this country ; that he was impressed with the necessity of an imme
diate mission to the Directory, and had concluded to send one, which,
by its dignity, should satisfy France, and by its selection from the
three great divisions of the continent, should satisfy all parts of the
United States ; in short, that he had determined to join Gerry and
Madison to Pinckney, and he requested Mr. Jefferson to consult Mr.
Madison for him. On the sixth of March, when Mr, Jefferson re
ported the result of his negotiation with Mr. Madison, the President
replied, that, on consultation, some objections to that nomination had
been raised, which he had not contemplated ; the subject was then
dropped, and never afterwards resumed. The consultation alluded

MR. ADAMS ELECTED PRESIDENT. 103
to was with Pickering, Wolcott, McHenry and Lee, the late Cabi
net of General Washington, which he had transmitted entire to his
successor. The feelings and opinions of those gentlemen are well
known to the reader. So that the kind intentions of Mr. Adams, in
the first enthusiasm of office, towards the Republican party, and his
spirit of conciliation towards France, were soon dissipated by the
advice of his counsellors. In less than three weeks from this date,
the President's proclamation was issued, requiring an extraordinary
session of Congress to be convened on the fifteenth day of May.
It is obvious that the President was advised to this measure, and
that the design of his advisers was to procure, if not a declaration of
war, at least the enactment of such strong retaliatory measures as
would lead to that result. There could have been no other motive
in convening the legislative department at that unusual season ; and
when the decree of the 2d of March was made known, there was no
other alternative left to the Administration. The President might
have dismissed his ministers, and taken into his Cabinet such men as
Madison, Gallatin and Gerry. With their advice he could have sent
to France, as he proposed at first, such envoys as would at once have
satisfied that nation, smothered every asperity, caused the repeal of
every obnoxious decree, and the institution of a tribunal to try all
questions of dispute between the two nations. But not' choosing to
follow this course, there was no alternative in the line of policy to
be pursued but war or disgrace.
The President's opening speecb on the 17th of May, was consia-
ered by his friends sufficiently spirited. After giving a history of
the rejection of the American Minister by the Executive Directory,
and the indignities offered to the nation through him, he thus pro
ceeds : " With this conduct of the French Government, it will be
proper to take into view the public audience given to the late Minis
ter of the United States on his taking leave of the Executive Direc
tory — the speech of the President discloses sentiments more alarm
ing than the refusal of a Miaiister, because more dangerous to our
independence and union ; and at the same time studiously marked
with indignities towards the Government of the United States : it
evinces a disposition to separate the people of the United States from
the Government, to persuade them that they have different affectiofis,
principles, and interests, from those of their fellow-citizens whom they

104 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
themselves have chosen to manage their common concerns ; and thus
to produce divisions fatal to our peace. Such attempts ought to be
repelled with a decision which shall convince France and the world,
that we are not a degraded people, humiliated under a colonial spirit
of fear and sense of inferiority, fitted to be the miserable instruments
of foreign influence, and regardless of national honor, character, and
interest" While he intended to make another effort to adju&t all our differ
ences with France by amicable negotiation, the threatening aspect of
affairs rendered it his indispensable duty to recommend to the con
sideration of Congress effectual measures cf defence. " The present
situation of our country," says he, in conclusion, " imposes an obliga
tion on all the departments of Government to adopt an explicit and
decided conduct  It is impossible to conceal from ourselves, or
the world, what has been before observed, that endeavors have been
employed to foster and establish a division between the Government
and the people of the United States. To investigate the causes
which have encouraged this attempt is not necessary ; but to repel,
by decided and united councils, insinuations so derogatory to the
honor, and aggressions so dangerous to the constitution, union, and
even independence of the nation, is an indispensable duty  Con
vinced that the conduct of this Government has been just and impar
tial to foreign nations ; that those internal regulations which have
been established by land for the preservation of peaCe, are in their
nature proper, and that they have been fairly executed ; nothing will
ever be done by me to impair the national engagements, to innovate
upon principles which have been so deliberately and uprightly estab
lished, or to surrender in any manner the rights of the Government."
This energetic speech of the President was not responded to by
the Representatives in the same spirit. The original draft of the
address intending to be fully responsive to the speech, contained the
following clause : " Knowing as we do the confidence reposed by the
people of the United States in their Government, we cannot hesitate
in expressing our indignation at the sentiments disclosed by the
President of the Executive Directory of France in his speech to the
Minister of the United States. Such sentiments serve to discover
the imperfect knowledge which France possesses of the real opinions
of our constituents." This very pointed and spirited paragraph w"»

MR. ADAMS ELECTED PRESIDENT. 105
stricken out by a vote oi forty-eight io forty-six, and the following
substituted in its place : " Any sentiments tending to derogate from
the confidence ; such sentiments, wherever entertained, serve to evince
an imperfect knowledge of the real opinion of our constituents."
The address contained the following paragraph : " We there
fore receive, with the utmost satisfaction, your information that a
fresh attempt at negotiation will be instituted ; and we cherish the
hope that a mutual spirit of conciliation, and a disposition on the
part of the United States to place France on grounds simiiar to those
of other countries, in their relation and connection with us, if any
irregularities shall be found to exist, will produce an accommodation
compatible with the engagements, rights, duties, and honor of the
United States." A motion was made to strike out the latter part of
this clause, in regard to France. It was negatived by a vote of
forty-nine io fifty. Thus it seems that there were forty-nine mem
bers opposed to placing France on similar grounds to those of other
countries, in their relation and connection with us.
A motion was then made to strike out the whole paragraph,
OvUy forty-one voted for this proposition ; so that there were at least
that many opposed to any farther negotiation, or conciliation with
France. A motion was made to strike from the address the following pa
ragraph : " Believing, with you, that the conduct of the Government
has been just and impartial to foreign nations ; that the laws for
the preservation of peace have been proper, and that they have been
fairly executed, the representatives of the people do not hesitate to
declare, that they will giv; their most cordial support to the execu
tion of principles so deliberately and uprightly established." This
motion was made by Mr. Gallatin, who was a native of Geneva, and
spoke English with a very broken accent. It was oppcsed by Mr.
Allen, who said he was sure such a motion could never pass while
there was a drop of American blood in the House, and an American
accent to say no. Forty-five voted to strike out, thereby expressing
their belief that the Government had not been just and impartial to
foreign nations — that laws proper for the preservation of peace had
not been enacted, nor fairly executed.
The House of Representatives was composed of one hundred
members, leaving out the Speaker ; ninety-nine remained to vote on
VOL. L 5*

106 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
all questions. Fifty made the majority. Thus the reader will per
ceive that a very large and powerful minority were opposed to all
the measures of the administration. Much the larger portion of its
friends were desirous of no further attempts at negotiation with
France, and were prepared to push matters to the extremity of war ;
but the two or three timid, vacillating, and as it was asserted, venal men,
necessary to make the majority, could not be relied on. All the la
bors of Congress, after a two months' session, resulted in a perfect
abortion. A few insignificant acts of a defensive character were
passed, but nothing energetic or decisive was done.
The republican party, or French partisans as they were called,
were reproached for this failure. General Washington had long be
fore said they were the friends of war and confusion ; it was now
asserted that they were prepared to sacrifice the independence of
their own country to the ambition of France. Had it been merely
a subject of foreign policy that divided them from the administra
tion, it might be a question how far they were justified in giving the
least countenance to the indignities and the atrocities of tbe French
Government. But it must be remembered that great principles,
deep and radical, not only in regard to the interpretation of the
Constitution, biit the basis and design of all government, divided
them from the party of the administration. They were firmly im
pressed with the belief that the latter desired to absorb all the pow
ers distributed among the States, and left to the people, into the
federal head; to concentrate them in the Executive, and then to con
solidate and confirm these usurpations by a close alliance with Great
Britain, whose government and policy were to be taken as a model
for our own ; and that all their measures, the British treaty, disgrace
of Randolph, recall of Monroe, and unconciliating temper towards
France, were taken with a view to the consummation of these great
designs. Thus imprpssed, it could not be expected that those men
would yield to the policy of the administration. The lasting welfare
of the country was of more importance than the removal of a mere
temporary shadow that overhung the shield of its fame. They saw
the administration in a dilemma ; they did not consider it their duty
to extricate them from it, that they might pursue measures detri'
mental to the interests of the country.
Mr. Adams never pursued any well-digested plan of any sort

MR. ADAMS ELECTED PRESIDENT. 107
I
He was the creature of impulse. His first impulse, as we have seen,
was to send Madison and Gerry to France. This feeling he yielded
to the wishes of his counsellors, who were evidently for war. The
representatives of the people were called together to second these
designs. But falling fdr short of the expectations of those who had
advised the call, the President was compelled to fall back on his ori
ginal plan, and resort .pnce more to negotiation. But it was now too
late. He found himself in this awkward position. He bad said to
France, I was indignant at your insults and malicious attempts to
divide the people from their government, and intended to repel them
with -.becoming spirit ; but when I called on the popular branch of
government, those who more immediately represented the feelings
and wishes of the people, to furnish me the means, I found that a
very formidable minority were of your way of thinking ; very few
prepared to retaliate your insults with war, and a large majority dis
posed to conciliate you by further negotiations. I am compelled to
yield to their wishes, as they are the war-making power ; and as a
token of my sincerity, I send you three envoys — Messrs. Pinckney,
Marshall, and Dana — ^gentlemen, one of whom you know, of high-
toned character, great devotion to my administration and the policy
of my predecessor — indignant at the insults you have offered their
government, hostile to your principles, shocked at your merciless
barbarities at home and abroad, and prepared with unyielding energy
and spirit to demand redress for the depredations you have com
mitted on our commerce, and the injuries you have done to our
seamen. What could have been expected from such a mission but disap
pointment and additional insult ? It is true Mr. Dana resigned, and
Gerry was put in his place ; but the majority of the commission were
precisely such men as were the least agreeable to the Directory. It
was just as well known to Barras, Merlin, and Talleyrand, as it was
to Gallatin, Madison, and Jefferson, that the administration were in
a difficulty from which they could not easily escape. They saw
plainly from the proceediugs and the debates of Congress, that Mr,
Adams would be compelled to yield to the republican party, or make
war on. France, and ally himself with England, or retire in disgrace,
A war with France, and a consequent alliance with England, they
knew would not be attempted with so formidable an opposition as

108 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH,
the late Congress had displayed. They had every reason to expectj
that by a steady resistance to the overtures of the administration,
they would finally secure a triumph to their friends in America.
Governments are conducted by men ; men are infiuenced by human
motives, too often by the basest passions and prejudices — (Quam
parva sapientia regitur mundus.) Judging from these premises, it
was preposterous in Mr. Adams to suppose that his embassy would
be received by the Directory in any other than the haughtiest
spirit. The defeat of such a mission must have been foreseen from
the beginning. Pickering, Wolcott and Company had too much
political sagacity not to have anticipated it. And perhaps it is not
uncharitable to suppose, that it was projected with the view of creat
ing additional causes of irritation on the part of France.

CHAPTEE XIX,
THE X. Y, Z. BUSINESS.
The envoys arrived in Paris about the first of October, 1797. On
the eighth they were introduced to the minister, M. Talleyrand, and
produced their letters of credence. The minister informed them
that he was engaged in preparing for the Executive Directory, a
report relative to the situation of the United States with regard to
France ; and that when it was finished he would let them know what
steps were to follow. They then retired with the promise that cards
of hospitality, in a style suitable to their official character, should be
furnished them. No further notice was taken of them for ten days.
They complained to unofficial persons that they had been treated
with great slight and disrespect since their arrival. Talleyrand, on
the other hand, complained that they had not been to see him. He
sent his private secretary, Mr. Z., to wait on them. They had not
yet been received by the Directory ; and, of course, their Minister of
Foreign Affairs could not recognize them publicly as ambassadors.
But he did all in his power to do : he sent his secretary, who in
formed them that M. Talleyrand, Minister of Foreign Relations.

THE X. Y. Z. BUSINESS. IQQ
professed to be well disposed towards the United States ; had ex
pected to have seen the American Ministers frequently in their pri
vate capacities ; and to have conferred with them individually on the
objects of their mission ; and had authorized him to make the com
munication. This, from the circumstances in which the parties were
placed, seems not to have been an unreasonable expectation on tho
part of M. Talleyrand, But two of the envoys excused themselves
on the ground of etiquette. General Pinckney and General Marshall
expressed their opinion, that, not being acquainted with M. Talley
rand, they could not, with propriety, call on him ; but that, accord
ing to the custom of France, he might expect this of Mr. Gerry, from
a previous acquaintance in America. This Mr. Gerry reluctantly
complied with, and appointed a day for an interview. While thus
standing oft in this ceremonious manner, and unrecognized by the
Government, our envoys had some strange adventures. In the
morning of October the eighteenth, Mr. W * * * *, of the house
of******* *, called on General Pinckney, and informed him that
a Mr. X. who was in Paris, and whom the General had seen, * * * *
* * * *, was a gentleman of considerable credit and reputation, * * *
''****, and that we might place great reliance on him. In the
evening of the same day, Mr. X., the gentleman so mysteriously an
nounced, called on General Pinckney, and after having sat some
time, whispered him, that he had a message from M. Talleyrand to
communicate when he was at leisure. General Pinckney immediately
withdrew with him into another room ; and when they were alone
Mr. X. said, that he was charged with a business in which he was a
novice ; that he had been acquainted with M. Talleyrand, ******
* * * *, and that he was sure he had a great regard for America
and its citizens ; and was very desirous that a reconciliation should
be brought about with France ; that to effectuate that end, he was
ready, if it was thought proper, to suggest a plan, confidentially, that
M. Talleyrand expected would answer the purpose. General Pinck
ney said he would be glad to hear it. Mr. X. replied, that the Di
rectory, and particularly two of the members of it, were exceedingly
irritated at some passages of the President's speech at the opening
of Congress in May, and desired that they should be softened ; and
that this step would be necessary previous to our reception ; that,
besides this, a sum of money was required for the pocket of the Di-

110 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Eectory and ministers (about fifty thousand pounds sterling), which
would be at the disposal of M. Talleyrand ; and that a loan would
also be insisted on, Mr, X. said, if we acceded to these measures,
M, Talleyrand had no doubt that all our difficulties with Franco
might be accommodated. At the same time, he said his communi
cation was not immediately with M. Talleyrand, but through another
gentleman, in whom M. Talleyrand had great confidence.
Next day Mr X., and Mr. Y., the confidential friend alluded
to, called on the envoys, Mr. Y., having been introduced as the con
fidential friend of M. Talleyrand, commenced the conversation, and'
proceeded pretty much in the same strain as Mr. X. on the day pre
ceding. He said the minister could not see thera himself, as they
had not been received by the Directory, but had authorized his friend
Mr. Y. to communicate certain propositions, and to promise on his
part, that if they could be considered as the basis of the proposed
negotiation, he would intercede with the Directory to acknowledge
them, and to give them a public audience. Mr. Y. stated explicitly
and repeatedly that he was clothed with no authority ; that he was
not a diplomatic character ; that he was not ********; he was
only the friend of M, Talleyrand, and trusted by him. He then
read the parts of the President's speech that were objectionable, and
dilated very much upon the keenness of the resentment it had pro
duced, and expatiated largely on the satisfaction he said was indis
pensably necessary as a preliminary to negotiation. " But," said he,
" gentlemen, I will not disguise from you that this satisfaction being
made, the essential part of the treaty remains to be adjusted : II faut
da I'argent — 11 faut beaucoup d'argent;" you must pay money — you
nust pay a great deal of money. He said that tbe reception of the
money might be so disguised as to prevent its being considered a
breach of neutrality by England ; and thus save us from being em
broiled with that power Concerning the twelve hundred thousand
livres (£50,000), little was said.
Next day (October 21st) Mr. X. and Mr, Y. again called on the
envoys, and commenced their private and unofficial negotiation. It was
explained more fully, how the loan might be accomplished bythe
purchase of certain Dutch inscriptions held by the French govern
ment ; and itwas delicately intimated, that if the envoys would search
a little, they might find means to soothe the angry feelings of Mer-

THE X. T. Z. BUSINESS. m
Iin and Company, and avert the demand concerning the President's
speech. The envoys replied, that the proposition of a loan in the form of
Dutch inscriptions, or in any other form, was not within the limits
of their instructions, and that upon this point the Government must
be consulted ; and one of the American ministers would, for the pur
pose, forthwith embark for America.
Mr. Y. seemed disappointed at this conclusion. He said the en
voys treated the money part of the proposition as if*it had proceeded
from the Directory ; whereas, in fact, it did not even proceed from
the minister, but was only a suggestion from himself, as a substitute
to be proposed by them, in order to avoid the painful acknowledg
ment that the Directory had determined to demand.
These unofficial gentlemen, X. and Y., who, the envoys aomitted,
had brought no testimonials of their speaking any thing from autho
rity, continued their visits from day to day, and urged their propo
sitions with all the earnestness and eloquence they possessed. They
told the envoys that France had just concluded a treaty with the
Emperor of Austria ; and that the Directory, since this peace, had
taken a higher and more decided tone with respect to the United
States, and all other neutral nations, than had been before taken ;
that it had been determined that all nations should aid them, or be
considered and treated as their enemies. They expatiated on the
power and violence of France, urged the danger of our situation, and
pressed the policy of softening them, and of thereby obtaining time.
While these strange conferences were held with men unconnected
with the Government, and one a foreigner^ Mr. Gerry, on the 28th of
Ootoberj •Mjoording to appointment, paid his first visit to the minis
ter since the day of their presentation. The others, standing on
etiquette, refused to go. After the first introduction, M. Talleyrand
began the conference. He said the Directory had passed an arr^te,
which he offered for perusal, in which they had demanded of the
envoys an explanation of some parts, and a reparation for others, of
the President's speech to Congress, of the 16th of May last. He
was sensible, he said, that difficulties would exist on the part of the
envoys relative to this demand ; but that by their offering money, he
thought he could prevent the effect of the arrfete. It having been
stated that the envoys had no such power; M. Talleyrand replied, they

112 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
can in such case take a pow.er on themselves, and proposed that they
should make a loan. Mr. Gerry then stated that the uneasiness of
the Directory resulting from the President's speech, was a subject
unconnected with the objects of their mission ; that the powers of
the envoys, as they conceived, were adequate to the discussion and
adjustment of all points of real difference between the two nations ;
that they could alter and amend the treaty, or, if necessary, form a
new one ; that as to a loan, they had no powers whatever to make
one ; but that they could send one of their number for instructions
on this proposition, if deemed expedient. M. Talleyrand, in answer,
said he should be glad to confer with the other envoys individually ;
but that this matter about the money must be settled directly, with
out sending to America ; that he would not communicate the arr6te
for a week ; and that if they could adjust the matter about the
speech, an application would, nevertheless, go to the United States for
a loan. In this private interview between M. Talleyrand and one of
the envoys, that minister intimates that a loan will be asked, and will
be expected to be granted on the part of the United States ; but not
the slightest allusion is made to a douceur for the use of the members
of the Directory.
On the llth of November the envoys transmitted an official letter
for the first time to the Minister of Foreign Affairs, in which they
state that his declaration at the time of their arrival, that a report
on American affairs was then preparing, and would, in a few days
hn laid before the Directory, whose decision thereon should, without
dciay, be made known, had hitherto imposed silence on them. For
this communication they had 'waited with that anxious solicitude which
so interesting an event could not fail to excite, and with that respect
which was due to the government of France. They disclosed their
full powers to treat on all differences between the two nations ; and
expressed their anxiety to commence the task of restoring that friend
ship, that mutual interchange of good offices, which it was alike their
wish and their duty to effect between the citizens of the two repub
lics. Having received no answer, on the 21st they sent their secre
tary to wait on the minister, and inquire of him whether he had
communicated the letter to the Directory, and whether an answer
might be expected. He replied that he had submitted the letter,
and that when he was directed what steps to pursue, they should be
informed.

THE X. Y. Z. BUSINESS, II3
On the 24th of December the envoys wrote to the Secretary of
State, that they had received no answer to their official letter to
the Minister of Foreign Affairs, dated the 1 1th of November ; but
that reiterated attempts had been made to engage them in negotia
tion with persons not officially authorized. They further stated it
as their opinion, that if they were to remain six months longer, un
less they were to stipulate the payment of money, and a great deal
of it, in some shape or other, they would not be able to effectuate the
object of their mission, nor would they even be officially received.
The President of the United States, in a message to Congress,
March 19th, 1798, stated that the dispatches from the envoys ex
traordinary to the French Republic had been received, examined,
maturely considered, and that he perceived no ground of expectation
that the objects of their mission could be accomplished, on terms
compatible with the safety, honor, or the essential interests of the
nation. On the 27th of January, 1798, the envoys addressed a letter to
the Minister of Foreign Affairs, on the subject of a late law, author
izing the capture of neutral vessels, on board of which any produc
tions of Great Britain or its possessions should be laden showing
how incompatible such law was with the rights of neutral nations
and the treaty between France and America, its direct tendency to
destroy the remaining commerce of this country, and the particular
hardships to which it would subject the agricultural as well as
commercial interests of their countrymen, from the peculiar situa
tion of the United States. They added, that under existing circum
stances, they could no longer resist the conviction, that the demands
of France rendered it entirely impracticable to effect the objects of
their mission. On the 19th of February, having received no answer
to this communication, they sent their secretary -to know of the min
ister whether he had any response to make. He replied that he had
none, as the Directory had taken no order on the subject. At length,
on the 27th of February, for the first time since their arrival in
Paris, the envoys solicited a personal interview on the subject of
their mission. The minister promptly acceded to the request, and
fixed on the 2d day of March for the interview. On that occasion,
the minister said, that, without doubt, the Directory wished very
sincerely, on the arrival of the envoys, to see a solid friendship es-

]fl4 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
tablished between France and the United States, and had manifested
this disposition, by the readiness with which orders for their pass
ports were given. That the Directory had been extremely wounded
by the last speech of General Washington, made to Congress when
about to quit the office of President of the United States ; and by
the first and last speech of Mr. Adams. That explanations of these
speeches were expected and required of us. He said, that the ori
ginal fevorable disposition of the Directory had been a good deal al
tered by the coldness and distance which the envoys had observed.
That instead of seeing him often, and endeavoring to remove the
obstacles to a mutual approach, they had not once waited on him.
In this state of things some proof, he said, would be required on tbe
part of the United States, of a friendly disposition, previous to a
treaty with them. The envoys ought to search for, and propose
some means which might furnish this proof In this he alluded very
intelligibly to a loan. ^ He said he must exact from theai, on the
part of his Government, some proposition of this sort ; that to prove
their friendship, there must be some immediate aid, or something
which might avail them ; that the principles of reciprocity would re
quire it. This once done, he said, the adjustment of complaints
would be easy ; that would be matter of inquiry ; and if France had
done wrong, it would be repaired ; but that if this was refused, it
would increase the distance and coldness between the two republics.
It was replied that the envoys had no power to make a loan. One
of them, Mr. Gerry, then observed, that the Government of France
must judge for itself ; but that it appeared to him, that a treaty on
liberal principles, such as those on which the treaty of commerce be
tween the two nations was first established, would be infinitely more
advantageous to France than the trifling advantages she oould de
rive from a loan. Such a treaty would produce a friendship and at
tachment on the part of the United States to France, which would
be solid and permanent, and produce benefits far superior to those of
a loan, even if they had powers to make it. To this observation, M.
Talleyrand made no reply. Nor did he express any sentiment as to
the propriety of one of the envoys going home to consult the Gov
ernment on the expediency of giving powers to negotiate a loan.
He had already expressed his opinion that they bad tbe power, or
might assume it, without violating their instruotiOBS.

THE X. Y. Z. BUSINESS. H^
On the 18th of March, M. Talleyrand addressed a letter to the
envoys in answer to theirs of the 17th January. In this he elabo
rately reviews the whole course of the two Governments, and justifies
France in every particular. It might appear incredible, he said,
that the Republic, and her alliance, were sacrificed at the moment
when she had redoubled her regards for her ally ; and that the cor
responding demonstrations of the Federal Government had no other
object but to keep her, as well as her Government, in a false security.
Ajid yet it is now known, that, at this very period, Mr. Jay,
who had been sent to London solely, as it was then said, to nego
tiate arrangements relative to the depredations committed upcn the
American commerce by the cruisers of Great Britain, signed a treaty
of amity, navigation and commerce, the negotiation and signing of
which had been kept a profound secret at Paris and at Philadelphia.
Observing that, in this treaty every thing having been calculated to
turn the neutrality of the United States to the disadvantage ¦ of the
Freneh Republic, and to the advantage of England ; that the Federal
Government having in this act made to Great Britain concessions
the most unheard of, the most incompatible with the interests of the
United States, the most derogatory to the alliance which subsisted
between the said States and the French Republic ; the latter was
perfectly free, in order to avoid the inconveniences of the treaty of
London, to avail itself of the preservative means with which the laws
of nature, the law of nations, and prior treaties furnished it. Such
were the reasons which had produced the decrees of the Directory, of
which the United States complained.
He then proceeded to declare that newspapers, known to be under
the immediate control of the Cabinet, had, since the treaty, redoubled
their invectives and calumnies against the Republic and against her
principles, her magistrates and her envoys. Pamphlets, openly paid
for by the minister of Great Britain, had reproduced in every form
those insults and calumnies. The Government itself was intent on
encouraging this scandal in its public acts. The Executive Directory
had been denounced in a speech delivered by the President as en
deavoring to propagate anarchy and division within the United States.
In fine, he said, one could not help discovering in the tone of the
speech and of the publications which had just been pointed to, a
latent enmity that only wanted an opportunity to break ont Facts

116 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
being thus established, it was disagreeable, he said, to be obliged to
think that the instructions under which the commissioners acted,
had not been drawn up with the sincere intention of attaining pacific
ends. The intentions which he had attributed to the Government of
the United States, were so little disguised, that nothing seemed to
have been neglected at Philadelphia to manifest them to every eye.
And it was probably with this view that it was thought proper to send
to the French Republic, persons whose opinions and connections were
too well known to hope from them dispositions sincerely conciliatory.
Penetrated with the justice of these reflections, and thoir conse
quences, the Executive Directory had authorized him to express him
self with all the frankness which became the French nation. It was
only to smooth the way of discussions that he had entered into the
preceding explanations. It was with the same view that he declared
to the commissioners and envoys extraordinary, that, notwithstand
ing the kind of prejudice which had been entertained with respect to
them, the Executive Directory was disposed to treat with that one of
the three whose opinions, presumed to be more impartial, promised,
in the course of the explanations, more of that reciprocal confldence
which was indispensable.
To the communication of Talleyrand, the envoys returned a very
elaborate reply, in which they reviewed all the points of difficulty
raised by him, endeavored to disabuse his mind as to the motives of
the Government of the United States, and the prejudices which he
imagined to exist in the minds of the envoys themselves, and con
cluded by declaring that no one of them was authorized to take upon
himself a negotiation indirectly intrusted by the tenor of their powers
and instructions to the whole ; nor were there any two of them who
could propose to withdraw themselves from the task committed to
them by their Government, while there remained a possibility of per
forming it.
The very day the answer of the envoys was sent to the minister
(3d April) Mr. Gerry received a note from him in which he said : —
*' I suppose that Messrs. Pinckney and Marshall have thought it use
ful and proper, in consequence of the intimations given in the end of
my note of the 28th Ventose last (18th March), and the obstacle
which their known opinions have interposed to the desired reconcilia
tion, to quit the territory of the Republic. On this supposition, I

THE X. Y. Z. BUSINESS. II7
have the honor to point out to you the 5th or 7th of this decade, to
resume our reciprocal communications upon the interests of the
French Republic and the United States of America,"
Mr, Gerry replied (April 4th), that as his colleagues were expected
to quit the territory of France, he had no authority to act intheir ab
sence. He could only confer informally, he said, and unaccredited, on
any subject respecting their mission, and communicate to the Govern
ment of the United States the result of such conferences, being in his
individual capacity unauthorized to give them an official stamp.
Nevertheless, every measure in his power, he said, and in conformity
with the duty he owed his country, should be zealously pursued, to
restore harmony and a cordial friendship between the two republics,
In consequence of the above intimation from the minister, Messi s.
Marshall and Pinckney soon left Paris, In a letter to the President,
dated the 16th of April, Mr, Gerry said he had expected his passports
with his colleagues, but was informed that the Directory would not
consent to his leaving France ; and, to bring on an immediate rupture
by adopting this measure, contrary to their wishes, would be in his
mind unwarrantable, and therefore he concluded to remain.
Thus ended this extraordinary mission ; a conclusion which must
have been foreseen — must have been anticipated by those who pro
jected it. So soon as the dispatches containing those transactions, of
which the above is intended to be a faithful though succinct nar
rative, were made known to the public, the political barometer at
oKce rose to the storm point. At the time of their reception. Con
gress was debating the proposition, that it is inexpedient to resort to
war against the French Fiepublic. It was expected to be carried by
a majority of two or three ; but it was now laid aside, and the most
vigorous war measures introduced. " The most artful misrepresen
tations of the contents of those papers,'' says Mr. Jefferson, April
6th, " were published yesterday, and produced such a shock in the
republican mind as had never been since our independence. We
are to dread the effects of this dismay till their fuller information.
The spirit kindled up in the towns is wonderful. These and New
Jersey are pouring in their addresses, offering life and fortune. The
answers of the President are more thrasonic than the addresses,
Nor is it France alone, but his own fellow-citizens, against whom
his threats are extended. The delysions, says he, and misrepresent

118 LIFE Of JOHN RANDOLPH.
tations which have misled so many citizens must bi discountenanced
by authority, as well as by the citiiens at large  At
present the warhawks talk of Septembrizing, deportation, and the
examples of quelling sedition set by the French Executive. Early
in April the war party, with passionate exclamation, declared that
they would soon pass a citizens' bill, an alien bill, and a sedition bill,
with the view of disfranchising such men as Gallatin, banishing Vol-
ney, Collot, and other unfortunate Frenchmen who had taken refuge
in the country, and of silencing Bache, Carey, and other republican
presses," The excitement spread far and wide among the people. The jty
was, millions for defence, not a cent for tribute. This broad, compre
hensive, self-evident proposition to a brave and independent people,
soon became the watchword of the multitude : millions for defence,
¦not a cent for tribute. This happy and pithy appeal to the pride of
a nation was level to the capacity of all ; every body could under
stand it ; and, what was more important, every body could feel it.
'Twas vain to attempt to reason down this excited feeling of national
pride. 'Twas vain to tell the people that France had demanded no tri'
bute — that our envoys had never held but one interview with the minis
ter of foreign affairs, and that the only proposition on that occasion was
the bare suggestion that the United States, as proof of her friend
ship, might make a loan to France in her present necessities, by way
of reciprocity for a similar loan made to us in the war of revolution,
when our credit and very existence were dependent on the timely
aid then extended to us ; that the demand of tribute was made by a
Couple of swindlers, unconnected with the Government, who had im
posed on the credulity of our envoys, and who, in fact, encouraged
the intrigue, that they might make political capital, in order to cre
ate the very excitement it had occasioned ; that the only obstacle in
the way of an amicable settlement of all our differences with France
was the intemperate speeches of the President, the haughty, reserved
and unconciliatory temper of the envoys themselves ; that France had
only done what she had a right to do according to the laws of nations,
to show her displeasure to ministers plenipotentiairy who were disa
greeable to her, who were hostile to her principles, unfriendly to her
Government, and of such a temper as not to be able to secure her
confidence ; that she had only signified her desire that those envoys

THE X. Y. Z. BUSINESS. II9
should depart, and the one in whom she had confidence might remain,
with whom she was ready to negotiate on terms of the utmost fair
ness and equality. 'Twas vain to state the plain facts to an excited
multitude. Millions for defence, not a cent for tribute, was the ready
and comprehensive answer. The fever was up, and must run its
course. The multitude are not only fond of broad and comprehen
sive phrases that will serve them on all occasions, and save the neces
sity of thought, but they must always have some sign, or outward
symbol of their feelings. On this occasion the black cockade of Eng
land was mounted as a badge of hostility to the tri-color of France.
The handwriting, it was said, at the bottom of an address is seen
but by few persons ; whereas a cockade will be seen by the whole
city, by the friends and the foes of the wearer ; it v; ill be the visible
sign of the sentiments of his heart, and will prove that he is not
ashamed to avow those sentiments. Persons who marched to the
President's house to present their warlike addresses were encouraged
to wear the American cockade. Those who dare not designate them
selves, they were told, by this lasting mark of resolution, may, indeed,
walk up Market-street, but their part of the procession will only
serve to recall to our minds the old battered French gasconade —
" The King of France, with forty thousand men.
Marched up the hill, and then — marched down again"
Congress, under the war-excitement, passed in rapid succession, a
stamp-act, an excise law, an act, entering into minute and vexatious
details, laying a direct tax on lands, slaves, houses, and other pro
perty ; two acts authorizing the President to borrow large sums of
money at usurious interest ; several acts authorizing the purchasing
of vessels, creating a naval armament, and a navy department in the
Government ; acts prohibiting the exportation of arms, and author
izing the purchase of cannon, and the fortification of ports and har
bors ; acts creating additional regiments in the army, augmenting
those in existence, and authorizing the President to call out and or
ganize a prooisional army of ten thousand men, if in his opinion
there existed an imminent danger of invasion ; acts prohibiting all
intercourse with France or her dependencies, and authorizing the
capture of all French armed vessels ; an act making it lawful for the
President of the United. States to eause aU such aliens as he shall

120 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
judge dangerous to the peace and safety of the United States, ot
shall have reasonable grounds to suspect are concerned in any trea
sonable or secret machinations against the Government thereof, to
depart out of the territory of the United States ; and an act declar
ing, that if any person shall write, print, utter, or publish, or aid in
the same, any false, scandalous, and malicious writings against the
Government of the United States, Congress, or the President, with
intent to defame, or bring them into contempt or disrepute, being
thereof convicted before any court of the United States, shall be
punished by fine and imprisonment. To crown all these vast mili
tary preparations. General Washington was appointed Commander-
in-chief of the Army. " We must have your name," said the Presi
dent, in a letter to him, " if you will in any way permit us to use it
There will be more efficiency in it than in many an army." With
out waiting for an answer, on the 2d of July he nominated to the
Senate, " George Washington, of Mount Vernon, to be Lieutenant-
General and Commander-in-chief of all the armies, raised and to be
raised in the United States."
Washington accepted the appointment ; and in his reply to the
President, said : " It was not possible for me to remain ignorant of,
or indifferent to, recent transactions. The conduct of the Directory
of France towards our country, their insidious hostilities to its Gov
ernment, their various practices to withdraw the affections of the
people from it, the evident tendency of their arts, and those of their
agents, to countenance and invigorate opposition, their disregard of
solemn treaties and the laws of nations, their war upon our defence
less commerce, their treatment of our minister of peace, and their
demands, amounting to tribute, could not fail to excite in me corre
sponding sentiments with those which my countrymen had so gene
rally expressed in their affectionate addresses to you. Believe me,
sir, no one can more cordially approve of the wise and prudent mea
sures of your administration. They ought to inspire universal confi-
fidence, and will no doubt, combined with the state of things, i call
from Congress such laws and means as will enable you to meet the
full force and extent of the crisis. Satisfied, therefore, that you have
sincerely wished ahd endeavored to avert war, and exhausted to the
last drop the cup of reconciliation, we can with pure hearts appeal to
Heaven for the justice of our cause, and may confidently trust the

THE X. Y. Z. BUSINESS. 121
final result to that kind Providence, which has heretofore, and so
often, signally favored the people of these United States."-
The war excitement was kept up , through the summer and au
tumn. The republican party found it difficult to separate in the
public mind the principles for which they contended, from the acts
of the French Directory. Having been regarded through the coun
try as the French party, they had now to bear much of the odium
that was attached to the French cause. The war fever began to
abate as winter approached. Mr. Gerry, our envoy, who remained
in France after the departure of his colleagues, and other eminent
citizens of the United States, had now returned from Europe, and
reported that the French Directory were in a most friendly temper
towards the United States, and were prepared to treat with any min
ister they might send, on terms of perfect reciprocity. The /irginia
legislature, early in the session of 1798-9, passed a series of resolu
tions denouncing the Alien and Sedition Laws as unconstitutional.
The heavy taxes also began to work their usual effect on the public
mind. It was soon perceived that some effort must be made to pre
vent the popular current from turning against the administration.
The great object was to keep up the majority in Congress, so as to
continue their war measures. The spring elections of 1799 were
coming on, and every effort was made by both sides to influence
them. It was perceived that the future destiny of the country de
pended on the result. Virginia was the great battle-ground : all
eyes were turned in that direction.
There was the stronghold of republicanism — there were its re
nowned chiefs to be found — Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, Giles,
Taylor, besides a host of others of less fame, but equal zeal in
the cause. There, also, was Washington, who had thrown himself
into the opposite scale, and, with energy, exerted all his influence
to give preponderance to the side he espoused. No man did
more to bring out influential characters to represent the State, both
in Congress and the legislature. " At such a crisis as this," said he,
" when every thing dear and valuable to us is assailed ; when this
party hangs upon the wheels of government as a dead weight, op
posing every measure that is calculated for defence and self-preserva
tion ; abetting the nefarious views of another nation upon our rights ;
preferring, as long as they dare contend openly against the spirit and
VOL. L 6

122 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
resentment of the people, the interest of France to the welfare of
their own country ; justifying the former, at the expense of the lat
ter ; when every act of their own government is tortured, by con
structions they will not bear, into attempts to infringe and trample
upon the constitution, with a view to introduce monarchy; when the
most unceasing and the purest exertions, which were making to
maintain a neutrality, proclaimed by the executive, approved un
equivocally by Congress, by the State legislatures, nay, by the
people themselves, in various meetings, and to preserve the country
in peace, are charged with being measures calculated to favor Great
Britain at the expense of France ; and all those who had any agency
in it, are accused of being under the influence of the former, and her
pensioners ; when measures are systematically and pertinaciously
pursued, which must, eventually, dissolve the Union, or produce co
ercion ; I say, when these things have become so obvious, ought
characters who are best able to rescue their country from the pend
ing evil, to remain at home? Rather ought they not to come for
ward, and, by their talents and influence, stand in .the breach,
which such conduct has made on the peace and happiness of this
country ?"
By Such persuasions as this, General Lee was induced to offer
himself as a candidate for Congress in the Westmoreland district —
Westmoreland, the birth-place of Washington ! On the other hand,
by the persuasions of Mr. Jefferson, Dr. Walter Jones came out in
opposition to him. The canvass between these two champions of
adverse wishes and sentiments, was .very animated. In colloquial
eloquence and irony, no man could surpass Dr. Jones; but he wns
overmatched by his antagonist, in popular address and public elo
quence. In the Richmond district, John Clopton, the sitting mem
ber, and a republican, was opposed by General Marshall, the late,
envoy to France, and, by ,all odds, the ablest champion of the
federal cause in Virginia, But the great field of contest — the cita
del that must be carried — was the State legislature. That body had,
recently pronounced the Alien and Sedition Laws unconstitutional.
The great object was now to obtain a majority to reverse that de
cision. It was well known that Mr. Madison would be in the next
legislature, with his matchless logic, to develope, explain and enforce
the doctrines of the resolutions recently passed. Some one must be

THE X. Y. Z. BUSINESS. 123
found to oppose him. General Washington found the man — that
man was Patrick Henry. And by him the trembling old warrior
was induced to buckle on the harness for his last battle. In a con
fidential letter, dated 15th January, 1799, Washington says: "It
would be a waste of time to attempt to bring to the view of a person
of your observation and discernment, the endeavors of a certain
party among us to disquiet the public mind with unfounded alarms ;
to arraign every act of the administration ; to set the people at vari
ance with their government ; and to embarrass all its measures.
Equally useless Would it be to predict what must be the inevitable
Consequences of such a policy, if it cannot be arrested. Unfortu
nately, and extremely do I regret it, the State of Virginia has taken
the lead in this opposition. I have said the State, because the con
duct of its legislature in the eyes of the world will authorize the ex
pression. I come now, my good sir, to the object of my letter, which
is to express the hope, and an earnest wish, that you will come for
ward at the ensuing elections (if not for Congress, which you may
think would take you too long from home) as a candidate for repre
sentative in the General Assembly of this Commonwealth. Your
weight of character and influence in the House of Representatives
would be a bulwark against such dangerous sentiments as are de
livered there at present. It would be a rallying-point for the timid,
and an attraction for the wavering. In a word, I conceive it to be of
immense importance, at this crisis, that you should be there ; and I
would fain hope that all minor considerations will be made to yield
to the measure." All minor considerations were made to yield ; and
the old veteran, bowed with age and disease, was announced as a can
didate to represent the county of Charlotte in the General Assembly
of Virginia. Powhatan Boiling was the candidate for Congress, on
the federal side ; he was opposed by John Randolph. On March
court day, Patrick Henry and John Randolph met, for the first time,
on the hustings at Charlotte Court House — the one the champion
of the Federal — ^the other the champion of the Republican cause.

124 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.

CHAPTEE XX.
PATEIOK HENEY.
Patrick Henry, the advocate of the Alien and Sedition Laws, tha
defender of federal measures leading to consolidation ! Let the
reader look back and contemplate his course in the Virginia Con
vention, called to ratify the Constitution — let him hear the eloquent
defence of the Articles of Confederation, which had borne us safely
through so many perils, and which needed only amendment, not
annihilation — let him witness the ardent devotion to the State gov
ernment as the bulwark of liberty — ^the uncompromising opposition
to the new Government, its consolidation, its destruction of State
independence, its awful squinting towards monarchy — ^let him behold
the vivid picture drawn by the orator of the patriot of seventy-six,
and the citizen of eighty-eight) then it was liberty, give me liberty !
now the cry was energy, energy, give' me a strong and energetic
government — then let him turn and see the same man, in little more
than ten years, staled forth, his prophecies all tending to rapid fulfil
ment, the advocate of the principles, the defender of the measures
that had so agitated his mind and awakened his fears — let the reader
meditate on these things, and have charity for the mutations of
political opinion in his own day, which he so often unfeelingly
denounces. It is true that Patrick Henry had been in retirement since the
adoption of the new Constitution, and had no part in the organization
of those parties which had arisen under it, but it is certain that they
took their origin in those principles which on the one side he so elo
quently defended, and on the other sS warmly deprecated. Federal
ist and Republican were names unknown in his day ; but from his
past history no one could mistake the inclination of his feelings, or
the conclusions of his judgment on the great events transpiring
around him. Up to 1795 he was known to be on the republican side.
In a letter, dated the 27th of June in that year, he says : " Since the
adoption of the present Constitution I have generally moved in a
narrow circle. But in that I have never omitted to ineuleate a strict

PATRICK HENRY.

125

adherence to the principles of it  Although a democrat
myself, I like not the late democratic societies. As little do I like
their suppression by law." On another occasion he writes : " The
treaty (Jay's treaty) is, in my opinion, a very bad one indeed ....
Sure I am, my first principle is, that from the British we have every
thing to dread, when opportunities of oppressing us shall offer."
He then proceeds to express his concern at the abusive manner in
which his old commander-in-chief was treated; and that his long and
great services were not remembered as an apology for his mistakes
in an office to which he was totally unaccustomed,
A man of his talents, his eloquence, his weight of character and
influence in the State, was well worth gaining over to the side of the
administration. Some of the first characters in Virginia undertook
to accomplish that end. Early in the summer of 1794, General Lee,
then governor of Virginia, and commander-in-chief of the forces
ordered out against the whisky insurrection, had frequent and
earnest conferences with him on public affairs. He was at first very
impractiBable. It seems that the old man had been informed that
General Washington, in passing through the State on his return from
the South in the summer of 1791, while speaking of Mr. Henry on
several occasions, considered him a factious and seditious character.
General Lee undertook to remove these impressions, and combated
his opinions as groundless ; but his endeavors were unavailing. He
seemed to be deeply and sorely affected. General Washington de
nied the charge. All he had said on the occasion alluded to was,
that he had heard Mr. Henry was acquiescent in his conduct, and
that, though he could not give up his opinion respecting the Consti
tution, yet, unless he should be called upon by official duty, he would
express no sentiment unfriendly to the exercise of the powers of a
government, which had been chosen by a majority of the people.
It was a long time before General Lee had an opportunity of
communicating to Mr. Henry the kind feelings of Washington to
wards him. In June, 1795, about a year after the subject had been
broached to him, Mr. Henry writes : " Every insinuation that taught
me to believe I had forfeited the good will of that personage, to
whom the world had agreed to ascribe the appellation of good and
great, must needs give me pain ; particularly as he had opportunities
of knowing my character both in public and in private life. The inti-

126 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH
mation now given me, that there was no ground to believe I had
incurred his censure, gives very great pleasure." In inclosing Mr.
Henry's letter to General Washington for perusal, Lee thus writes
(17th July, 1795): "I am very confident that Mr. Henry possesses
the highest and truest regard for you, and that he continues friendly
to the General Government, notwithstanding the unwearied efforts
applied for the end of uniting him to the opposition ; and I must
think he would be an important official acquisition to the Govern
ment." One month and two days from this date (19th August) as the
reader remembers, Edmund Randolph resigned the office of Secre
tary of State. On the 9th of October it was tendered to Patrick
Henry. In his letter of invitation General Washington stated that
the office had been offered to others ; but it was from a conviction
that he would not accept it. But in a conversation with General
Lee, that gentleman dropped sentiments that made it less doubtful.
" I persuade myself, sir," said the President, " it has not escaped
your observation that a crisis is approaching that must, if it cannot
be arrested, soon decide whether order and good government shall
be preserved, or anarchy and confusion ensue."
This letter of invitation was inclosed to Mr. Carrington, a confi
dential friend of Washington, with instructions to hold it back till
he could hear from Colonel Innis, to whom the attorney-generalship
had been offered. But on consultation with General Marshall, ano
ther confidential friend, they were so anxious to make an impression
on Patrick Henry, and gain him over, if possible, by those marks of
confidence, that they disobeyed orders, reversed the order in which
the letters were to be sent, and dispatched Mr. Henry's first, by ex
press. " In this determination we were governed," say they, " by tho fol
lowing reasons." (We give the reasons entire, that the reader may
see that great men and statesmen in those days were infiuenced by the
same motives they are now, and that men are the same in everyage.)
" First, his non-acceptance, from domestic considerations ma,y be cal
culated on. In this event, be his sentiments on either point what
they may, he will properly estimate your letter, and if be has any
asperities, it must tend to soften them, and render him, instead of a
silent observer of the present tendency of things, in eome degree

PjVTRICK HENRY. 127
active on the side of government and order. Secondly, should he
feel an inclination to go into the office proposed, we are confident —
very confident — he has too high a sense of honor to do so with senti
ments hostile to either of the points in view. This we should rely
on, upon general grounds ; but under your letter a different conduct
is, we conceive from our knowledge of Mr. Henry, impossible.
Thirdly, we are fully persuaded that a more deadly blow could not
be given to the faction in Virginia, and perhaps elsewhere, than that
gentleman's acceptance of the office in question, convinced as we are
of the sentiments he must carry with him. So much have the op
posers of government held him up as their oiucle, even since he has
ceased to respond to them, that any event demonstrating his active
support to government could not but give the party a severe shock."
A very good reason for disobeying instructions, and making the
first demonstration on so important a personage. Mr. Henry did not
accept the appointment, but the impression intended to be made was
nearly as complete as the parties intended.
" It gives us pleasure to find," says Mr, Carrington, " that
although Mr. Henry is rather to be understood as probably not an
approver of the treaty, his conduct and sentiments generally, both as
to the government and yourself, are such as we calculated on, and that
he received your letter with impresssions which assure us of his dis
countenancing calumny and disorder of every description."
These great movements somehow got wind, and came to the
ears of the leader of the faction they were designed to crush. In a
letter addressed to Monroe, dated July 10th, 1796, Jefferson says :
" Most assiduous court is paid to Patrick Henry. He has been
offered every thing, which they knew he would not accept. Some
impression is thought to be made : but we do not believe it is radi
cal. If they thought they could count upon him, they would run
him for their Vice-President, their first object being to produce a
schism in this State." A move was now made to prevent the old
man from going over altogether. In Novembeir following, the
democratic legislature of Virginia elected him, for the third time,
governor of the State. In his letter declining an acceptance of
the office, he merely expresses his acknowledgments - and grati
tude for the signal honor conferred on him, excuses himself on the
ground that he could not persuade himself that his abilities were

128 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
commensurate to the duties of the office, but let fall no expression
that could indicate his present political inclinations.
Early in January, 1799, soon after the passage of the resolutions
declaring the alien and sedition laws unconstitutional, and before he
had received the letter from Washington urging him to become a can
didate for the Virginia legislature, Patrick Henry, in writing to a
friend, thus expresses himself : " There is much cause for lamenta
tion over the present state of things in Virginia. It is possible that
most of the individuals who compose the contending factions are sin
cere, and act from honest motives. But it 'iS more than probable
that certain leaders meditate a change in government. To effect this,
I see no way so practicable as dissolving the confederacy ; and I am
free to own that, in my judgment, most of the measures lately pur
sued by the opposition party directly and certainly .ead to that end.
If this is not the system of the party, they have none, and act ex
tempore." In February following, the President nominated Mr. Henry as
one of the Envoys Extraordinary amd Ministers Plenipotentiary to
the French Republic. Perhaps the very day he appeared before the
people at Charlotte Court, he held the commission in his pocket. In
his letter declining the appointment, he says : " That nothing short
of absolute necessity could induce me to withhold my little aid from
an administration whose abilities, patriotism, and virtue, deserve the
gratitude and reverence of all their fellow-citizens."
In March, eighty-nine, Decius said, I want to crush that anti-
federal champion — the cunning and deceitful Cromwell, who, under
the guise of amendment, seeks to destroy the Constitution, bi^eak up
the confederacy, and reign the tyrant of popularity over his own de
voted Virginia. In ninety-nine, we find this anti-federal champion
veered round to the support of doctrines he once condemned, and
given in his allegiance to an administration, which a majority of his
countrymen had declared, and all those who had followed him as
their oracle declared, was rapidly hastening the Government into
consolidation and monarchy.
Let no man boast of his consistency. Such is the subtlety of
human motives, that, like a deep, unseen under-current, they uncon
sciously glide us into a position to-day different from that we occu
pied yesterday, while we perceive it not, and stoutly deny it.

MARCH COJRT.

129

Patrick Henry for years was sorely afflicted with the belief that
the greatest and best of mankind considered him & factious and sedi
tious character : to disabuse the mind of Washington, whose good
opinion all men desired — to justify the flattering attentions of those
distinguished men who had assiduously cultivated his society and
correspondence, and showered bright honors on his head, he uncon
sciously receded from his old opinions, arid embraced doctrines
which he had, with the cleamess and power of a Hebrew prophet,
portrayed and made bare in all their naked deformity.

CHAPTEE XXI.
MARCH COUET — ^THE EISING AND THE SETTING SUN.
It was soon noised abroad th^ Patrick Henry was to address the
people at March Court Great was the political excitement — still
greater the anxiety to hear the first orator of the age for the last time.
They game from far and near, with eager hope depicted on every
countenance. It was a treat that many had not enjoyed for
years. Much the largest portion of those who flocked together that
day, had only heard from the glowing lips of their fathers the won
derful powers of the man they were about to see and hear for the first
time. The college in Prince Edward was Emptied not only of its
students, but of its professors. Dr. Moses Hogue, John H, Rice,
Drttrj Lacy, eloquent men and learned divines, came up to enjoy the
expected feast. The young man who was to answer Mr. Henry, if
indeed the multitude suspected that any one would dare venture on
a reply, was unknown to fame. A tall, slender, effeminate looking
youth was he ; light hair, combed back into a well-adjusted oue — pale
countenance, a beardless chin, bright quick hazel eye, blue frock, buff
small clothes, and fair-top boots. He was doubtless known to many
on the court green as the little Jack Randolph they had frequently
seen dashing by on wild horses, riding a la mode Anglais, from
Roanoke to Bizarre, and back from Bizarre to Eoanoke. A few
knew him more intimately, but none had ever heard him speak in
6*

130 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
public, or even suspected that he ooUld make a speech. " My first
attempt at public speaking," says he, in a letter to Mrs. Bryan, his
niece, " was in opposition to Patrick Henry at Charlotte March Court,
1799 ; for neither of us was present at the election in April, as Mr.
Wirt avers of Mr. Henry." The very thought of his attempting to
answer Mr. Henry, seemed to strike the grave and reflecting men of
the place as preposterous. " Mr. Taylor," said Col. Eeid. the clerk
of the county, to Mr. Creed Taylor, a friend and neighbor of Ran
dolph, and a good lawyer, " Mr. Taylor, don't you or Peter Johnson
mean to appear for that young man to-day ?" " Never mind," re
plied Taylor, " he can take care of himself" His friends knew his
powers, his fluency in conversation, his ready wit, his polished satire,
his extraordinary knowledge of men and affairs ; but still he was
about to enter on an untried field, and all those brilliant faculties
might fail him, as tbey had so often failed men of genius before.
They might well have felt some anxiety on his first appearance upon
the hustings in presence of a popular assembly, and in reply to a man
of Mr. Henry's reputation. But it ^eems they had no fear for the
result — he can take care of himself. The reader can well imagine
the remarks that might have been made by the crowd as he passed
carelessly among them, shaking hands with this one and that one of
his acquaintance. " And is that the man who is a candidate for Con
gress?" "Is he going to speak against Old Pat?" " Why, he is
nothing but a boy — he's got no beard !" " He looks wormy !" " Old
Pat will eat him up bodily !" There, also, was Powhatan Boiling,
the other candidate for Congress, dressed in his scarlet coat — tall,
proud in his bearing, and a fair representative of the old aristocracy
fast melting away under the subdivisions of the law that had abolished
the system of primogeniture
Creed Taylor and others undertook to banter him about his
scarlet coat " Very well, gentlemen," replied he coolly, bristling
up with a quick temper, " if my coat does not suit you, I can meet
you in any other color that may suit your fancy." Seeing the gen
tleman not in a bantering mood, he was soon left to his own refiec-
tions. But the candidates for Congress were overlooked and forgot
ten by the crowd in their eagerness to behold and admire the great
orator, whose fame had filled their imagination for so many years
" As soon as he appeared on the ground," says Wirt, " he was sur

MARCH COURT. 131
rounded by the admiring and adoring crowd, and whithersoever he
moved, the concourse followed him. A preacher of the Baptist
church, whose piety was wounded by this homage paid to a mortal,
asked the people aloud, why they thus followed Mr. Henry about ?
" Mr. Henry," said he, " is not a god !" " No," said Mr. Henry, deeply
affected by the scene and the remark, " no, indeed, my friend ; I am
but a poor worm of the dust — as fleeting and unsubstantial as the
shadow of the cloud that flies over your fields, and is remembered
no more." The tone with which this was uttered, and the look which
accompanied it, affected every heart, and silenced every voice.
Presently James Adams rose upon a platform that had been
erected by the side of the tavern porch where Mr. Henry was seated,
and proclaimed — " 0 yes ! O yes ! Colonel Henry will address the
people from this stand, for the last time and at the risk of his life !"
The grand-jury were in session at the moment, they burst through
the doors, some leaped the windows, and came running up with the
crowd, that they might not lose a word that fell from the old man's
lips. While Adams was lifting him on the stand, " Why Jimmy," says
he, " you have made a better speech for me than I can make for my
self" " Speak out, father," said Jimmy, " and let us hear how it is.''
Old and feeble, more with disease than age, Mr. Henry rose and
addressed the people to the following effect : — (Wirt's Life of Patrick
Henry, page 393.) He told them that the late proceedings of the
Virginia Assembly had filled him with apprehensions and alarm ;
that they had planted thorns upon his pillow ; that they had drawn
him from that happy retirement which it had pleased a bountiful
Providence to bestow, and in which he had hoped to pass, in quiet,
the remainder of his days ; that the State had quitted the sphere in
which she had been placed by the Constitution ; and in daring to
pronounce upon the validity of federal laws, had gone out of her
jurisdiction in a manner not warranted by any authority, and in the
highest degree alarming to every considerate mind ; that such oppo
sition, on the part of Virginia, to the acts of the General Govern
ment, must beget their enforcement by military power ; that this
would probably produce civil war ; civil war, foreign alliances ; and
that foreign alliances must necessarily end in subjugation to the
powers called in. He conjured the people to pause and consider

132 . LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
well, before they rushed into such a desperate condition, from which
there could be no retreat. He painted to their imaginations, Wash
ington, at the head of a numerous and well appointed army, inflict
ing upon them military execution. " And where (he asked) are our
resources to meet such a conflict ? Where is the citizen of America
who will dare to lift his hand against the father of his country ?" A
drunken man in the crowd threw up his arm and exclaimed that he
dared to do it. " No," answered Mr. Henry, rising aloft in all his
majesty, '•you dare not do it ; in such a parricidal attempt, the steel
would drop from your nerveless arm."
Proceeding, he asked " Whether the county of Charlotte would
have any authority to dispute an obedience to the laws of Virginia ;"
and he pronounced Virginia to be to the Union what the county of
Charlotte was to her. Having denied the right of a State to decide
upon the constitutionality of federal laws, he added, that perhaps it
might be necessary to say something of the laws in questicn. His
private oninion was, that they were good and proper. But whatever
might be their merits, it belonged to the people, who held the reins
over the head of Congress, and to them alone, to say whether they
were acceptable or otherwise to Virginians ; and that this must be
done by way of petition. That Congress were as much oar represen
tatives as the Assembly, and had as good a right to our confidence.
He had seen, with regret, the unlimited power over the purse and
sword consigned to the General Government ; but that he had been
overruled, and it was now necessary to submit to the constitutional
exercise of that power. " If," said he, " I am asked what is to be
done when a people feel themselves intolerably oppressed, my answer
is ready — overturn the Government. But do not, I beseech you,
carry matters to this length without provocation. Wait, at leafrt,
until some infringement is made up m your rights, and which cannot
otherwise be redressed ; for if ever you recur to another change, you
may bid adieu forever to representative government. You can never
exchange the present government but for a monarchy. If the admin
istration have done wrong, let us all go wrong together rather than
split into factions, which must destroy that Union upon which cur
existence hangs. Let us preserve our strength for the French, the
English, the Germans, or whoever else shall dare to invade our terri
tory, and not exhaust it in civil commotions and intestine wars."

MARCH COURT.

133

When he concluded, his audience were deeply affected ; it is said that
they wept like children, so powerfully were they moved by the em
phasis of his language, the tone of his voice, the commanding expres
sion of his eye, the earnestness with which he declared his design to
exert himself to allay the heart-burnings and jealousies which had
been fomented in the State legislature, and the fervent manner in
whicL he prayed that if he were deemed unworthy to effect it, that it
might be reserved to some other and abler hand to extend this bless
ing over the community. As he concluded, he literally sunk into
the arms of the tumultuous throng : at that moment John H. Rice
exclaimed, " the sun has set in all his glory !"
Randolph rose to reply. For some moments he stood in silence,
his lips quivering, his eye swimming in tears ; at length he began a
modest though beautiful apology for rising to address the people in
opposition to the venerable father who had just taken his seat ; it
was an honest difference of opinion, and he hoped to be pardoned
while he boldly and freely, as it became the occasion, expressed his
sentiments on the great questions that so much divided and agitated
the minds of the people.
" The gentleman tells you," said he, " that the late proceedings
of the Virginia Assembly have filled him with apprehension and
alarm. He seems to be impressed with the conviction, that the State
has quitted the sphere in which she was placed by the Constitution ;
and in daring to pronounce on the validity of federal laws, has gone
out of her jurisdiction in a manner not warranted by any authority.
I am sorry the gentleman has been disturbed in his repose ; still
more grieved am I, that the particular occasion to which he alludes
should have been the cause of his anxiety. I once cherished the
hope that his alarms would have been awakened, had Virginia failed
to exert herself in warding off the evils he so prophetically warned
us of on another memorable occasion. Her supineness and inactivity,
BOW that those awful squintings towards monarchy, so eloquently
described by the gentleman, are fast growing into realities, I had
hoped would have planted thorns in his pillow, and awakened him to
a sense of the danger now threatening us, and the necessity of exert
ing once more his powerful faculties in warning the people, and
rousing them from their fatal lethargy.
<' Has the gentleman forgotten that we owe to him those obnox-

134 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
ious principles, as he now would have them, that guided the Legisla
ture in its recent course ? He is alarmed at the rapid growth ol
the seed he himself hath sowed — he seems to be disappointed
that they fell, not by the wayside, but into vigorous and fruitful
soil. He has conjured up spirits from the vasty deep, and growing
alarmed at the potency of his own magic wand, he would say to them,
' Down, wantons ! down !' but, like Banquo's ghost, I trust they will
not down. But to drop metaphor — In the Virginia Convention,
that was called to ratify the Constitution, this gentleman declared
that the government delineated in that instrument was peculiar in
its nature — partly national, partly federal. In this description he hi*
upon the true definition — there are certain powers of a national cha
racter that extend to the people and operate on them without regard
to their division into States — ^these powers, acting alone, tend to
consolidate the government into one head, and to obliterate State
divisions and to, destroy State authority ; but there are other powers,
many and important ones, that are purely federal in their nature —
that look to the States, and recognize their existence as bodies poli
tic, endowed with many of the most important attributes of sove
reignty. These two opposing forces act as checks on each other, and
keep the complicated system in equilibrium. They are like the cen
trifugal and centripetal forces in the law of gravitation, that serve to
keep the spheres in their harmonious courses through the universe.
" Should the Federal Government, therefore, attempt to exercise
powers that do not belong to it — and those that do belong to it are
few, specified, well-defined — all others being reserved to the people
and to thp States — should it step beyond its province, and encroach
on rights that have not been delegated, it is the duty of the States to
interpose. There is no other power that can interpose. The counter
weight, the opposing force of the State, is the only check to over-
action known to the system.
" In questions of meum et tuum, where rights of property are con
cerned, and some other cases specified in the Constitution, I grant you
that the Federal Judiciary may pronounce on the validity of the law.
But in questions involving the right to power, whether this or that
power has been delegated or reserved, they cannot and ought not to
be the arbiter ; that question has been left, as it always was, and
always must be lift, to be determined among sovereignties in tho best

MARCH COURT.

135

way they can. Political wisdom has not yet discovered any infallible
mathematical rule, by which to determine the assumptions of power
between those who know no other law or limitation save that imposed
on them by their own consent, and which they can abrogate at
pleasure. Pray let me ask the gentleman — and no one knows bet
ter than himself— who ordained this Constitution ? Who defined its
powers, and said, thus far shalt thou go, but no farther ? Was it not
the people of the States in their sovereign capacity? Did they com
mit an act of suicide by so doing ? — an act of self annihilation ? No,
thank God, they did not ; but are still alive, and, I trust, are be
coming sensible of the importance of those rights reserved to them,
and prohibited to that government which they ordained for their
common defence. Shall the creature of the States be the sole judge
of the legality or constitutionality of its own acts, in a question of
power between them and the States ? Shall they who assert a right,
be the sole judges of their authority to claim and to exercise it?
Does not all power seek to enlarge itself? — ^grow on that it feeds
upon ? Has not that been the history of all encroachment, all usurpa
tion ? If this Federal Government, in all its departments, then, is to
be the sole judge of its own usurpations, neither the people nor the
States, in a short time, will have any thing to contend for; this
creature of their making will become their sovereign, and the only
result of the labors of our revolutionary heroes, in which patriotic
band this venerable gentleman was most conspiciious, will have been
a change of our masters — New England for Old England — for which
change I cannot find it in my heart to thank them.
" But the gentleman has taught me a very different lesson from
that he is now disposed to enjoin on us. I fear that time has wroitght
its influence on him, as on all other men ; and that age makes
him willing to endure what in former years he would have spurned
with indignation. I have learned my first lessons in his school. He
is the high-priest from whom I received the little wisdom my poor
abilities were able to carry away from the droppings of the political
sanctuary. He was the inspired statesman that taught me to be
jealous of power, to watch its encroachments, and to sound the alarm
on the first movement of usurpation.
" Inspired by his eloquent appeals — encouraged by his example —
alarmed by the rapid strides of Federal usurpation, of which he had

136 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
warned them — the legislature of Virginia has nobly stepped forth in
defence of the rights of the States, and interposed to arrest that en
croachment and usurpation of power that threaten the destruction of
the Republic.
" And what is the subject of alarm ? What are the laws they have
dared to pronounce upon as unconstitutional and tyrannical? The
first, is a law authorizing the President of the United States to order
any alien he may judge dangerous, any unfortunate refugee that may
happen to fall under his royal suspicion, forthwith to quit the coun
try. It is true that the law says he must have reasonable grounds to
suspect. Who is to judge of that reason but himself? Who can
look into his breast and say what motives have dominion there?
'Tis a mockery to give one man absolute power over the liberty of an
other, and then ask him, when the power is gone, and cannot le re-
ealled, to exercise it reasonably ! Power knows no other check but
power. Let the poor patriot who may have fallen under the frowns
of government, because he dared assert the rights of his countrymen,
seek refuge on our shores of boasted liberty ; the moment he touches
the soil of freedom, hoping here to find a period to all his persecu
tions, he is greeted, not with the smiles of welcome, or the cheerful
voice of freemen, but the stern demands of an officer of the law — the
executor of a tyrant's will — who summons him to depart. What
crime has he perpetrated ? Vain inquiry ! He is a suspected per
son. He is judged dangerous to the peace of the country — rebel
lious at home, he may be alike factious and seditious here. What
remedy ? What hope ? He who condemns is judge — the sole judge
in the first and the last resort There is no appeal from his arbi
trary will. Who can escape th"! suspicion of a, jealous and vindictive
mind? « The very men who fought your battles, who spent their fortunes,
and shed their blood to win for you that independence that was once
your boast, may be the first victims of this tyrannical law. Kosci
usko is now on your shores ; though poor in purse and emaciated in
body, from the many sacrifices he has made in your cause, he has
yet a proud spirit that loves freedom, and will speak boldly of op
pression. Is not this enough to bring him under the frowns of
power, and to cause the mandate to be issued, ord,ering him to de
part from the country ? What may be true of one to whom we owe

MARCH COURT. I37
SO much, has already been fulfilled in the perSon of many a patriot,
scholar, and philosopher, whose only crime was, that of seeking re
fuge from oppression and wrong, on these shores of boasted freedom.
" And what is that other law that so fully meets the approbation of
my venerable friend ? It is a law that makes it an act of sedition,
punishable by fine and imprisonment, to utter or write a sentiment
that any prejudiced judge or juror may think proper to construe into
disrespect to the President of the United States. Do you understand
me? I dare proclaim to the people of Charlotte my opinion to be,
that John Adams, so-called President, is a weak-minded man, vain,
jealous, and vindictive ; that influenced by evil passions and preju
dices, and goaded on by wicked counsel, he has been striving to force
the country into a war with our best friend and ally. I say that I
dare repeat this before the people of Charlotte, and avow it as my
opinion. But let me write it down, and print it as a warning to
my countrymen. What then ? I subject myself to an indictment for
sedition I I make myself liable to be dragged away from my home
and friends, and to be put on my trial in some distant Federal Court,
before a judge who receives his appointment from the man that seeks
my condemnation ; and to be tried by a prejudiced jury, who have
been gathered from remote parts of the country, strangers to me, and
any thing but my peers ; and have been packed by the minions of
power for my destruction. Is the man dreaming ! do you exclaim ?
Is this a fancy picture, he has drawn for our amusement ? I am no
fancy man, people of Charlotte ! I speak the truth — I deal only in
stern realities ! There is such a law on your Statute Book in spite
of yonr Constitution — in open contempt of those solemn guarantees
that insure the freedom of speech and of the press to every Ame
rican citizen. Not only is there such a, statute, but, with shame
be it spoken, even England blushes at your sedition law. Would
that I could stop here, and say that, though it may be found
enrolled among the the public archives, it is a dead letter, Alas !
alas ! not only does it exist, but at this hour is most rigidly enforced,
not against the ordinary citizen only, but against men in official sta
tions, even those who are clothed by the people with the sacred du
ties of their representatives — men, the sanctity of whose persons can.
not be reached by any law known to a representative government,
are hunted down, condemned, and incaraerated by this odious, tyran-

138 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
nioal, and unconstitutional enactment. At this moment, while I am
addressing you, men of Charlotte 1 with the free air of heaven fan
ning my locks — and God knows how long I shall be permitted to en
joy that blessing — a representative of the people of Vermont — Mat
thew Lyon his name — lies immured in a dungeon, not six feet square,
where he has dragged out the miserable hours of a protracted winter,
for daring to violate the royal maxim that the king can do no
wrong. This was his only crime — ^he told his people, and caused it
to be printed for their information, that the President, ' rejecting
men of age, experience, wisdom, and independency of sentiment,'
appointed those who had no other merit but devotion to their mas
ter ; and he intimated that the ' President was fond of ridiculous
pomp, idle parade, and selfish avarice,' I speak the language of the
indictment. I give in technical and official words the high crime
with which he was charged. He pleaded justification — I think the
lawyers call it — and offered to prove the truth of his allegations.
But the court would allow no time to procure witnesses or counsel ;
he was hurried into trial all unprepared ; and this representative of
the people, for speaking the truth of those in authority, was ar
raigned like a felon, condemned, fined, and imprisoned. These are
the laws, the venerable gentlemen would have you believe, are not
only sanctioned by the Constitution, but demanded by the necessity
of the times — laws at which even monarchs blush — banishing from
your shores the hapless victim that only sought refuge from oppres
sion, and making craven, fawning spaniels, aye ! dumb dogs, of your
own people ! He tells you, moreover, that if you do not agree with
him in opinion — cannot consent that these, vile enactments are either
constitutional or necessary — your only remedy, your only hope of re
dress, is in petition.
" Petition ! Whom are we to petition ? But one solitary member
from Virginia, whose name is doomed to everlasting infamy, dared
to record his vote — dared to record, did I say ? I beg pardon  ^but
one who did not spurn from them this hideous offspring of a tyrant's
lust. Whom, then, I repeat, are we to petition ? those who are the
projectors of these measures, who voted for them, and forced them
upon you in spite of your will? Would not these men laugh at your
petition, and, in the pride and insolence of new-born power, trample
it under their feet with disdain ? ShaU we petition his majesty, who,

MARCH COURT. I39
by virtue of these very laws, holds your liberties in his sacred hands ?
I tell you he would spurn your petition from the foot of the throne,
as those of your fathers, on a like occasion, were spurned from the
throne of George the Third of England, From whose lips do we
hear that word petition — an abject term, fit only for the use of sub
jects and of slaves ? Can it be that he is now willing to petition and
to supplicate his co-equals in a common confederacy, who proudly
disdained entreaty and supplication to the greatest monarch on
earth — ^whose fleets covered our seas, whose armies darkened our
shores — sent over to bind and to rivet those chains that had been so
long forging for our unfettered limbs ! Has age so tamed his proud
spirit that he will gently yield to a domestic usurper what he scorned
to grant to a foreign master ? I fear he has deceived himself, and
would deceive you ; let not his siren song of peace lull you into a
fatal repose. For what is this large standing army quartered on the
country? why those recruiting officers insulting every hamlet and
village with their pride and insolence, and decoying the honest
farmer from his labor, to become the idle, corrupt, and profligate
drone of a military camp ? Why this large naval establishment ?
Why such burthensome and odious taxes imposed on the industry of
the country ? Why those enormous loans at usurious interest in
times of peace ; and, above all, why those unconstitutional laws to
banish innocence — ^to silence inquiry — stifle investigation, and to
make dumb the complaining mouths of the people ? Are these vast
preparations in consequence of some imminent peril overhanging the
country ? Are we threatened with war ? With whom ? with France ?
France has showed that this wicked administration cannot drive
her into a war with her ancient friend and ally. She has almost
compelled them to keep a minister of peace within her borders, and
offered them almost any terms of conciliation consistent with justice
and dignity. Yet do you see any abatement in the warlike energies
of the Government ?
" For what, I ask, are these vast and hostile preparations ? Let the
late pretended whisky insurrection in the western counties of Penn
sylvania answer the question. I am no alarmist ; but I cannot close
my eyes to the truth when I see it glaring before me. These
'¦ provisional" armies, as they have chosen to call them, are meant for
you ; they are intended, not to meet the troops of France, which they

140 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
know will never insult the soil of this republic, but to awe you, tha
people, into submission, and to force upon you, by a display of mili
tary power, the destructive measures of this vaulting and ambitious
administration. And yet the gentleman tells you we must wait until
some infringement is made on our rights ! Your Constitution broken,
your citizens dragged to prison for daring to exercise the freedom
of speech, armies levied, and you threatened with immediate inva
sion for your audacious interference with the business of the Federal
Government ; and still you are told to wait for some infringement of
your rights ! How long are we to wait ? Till the chains are fastened
upon us, and we can no longer help ourselves ? But the gentleman
says your course may lead to civil war, and where are your resources ?
I answer -him in his own words, handed down by the tradition of the
past generation, and engraven on the hearts of his grateful ccuntry-
men. I answer, in his own words : ' Shall we gather strength by
irresolution and inaction ? Shall we acquire the means of effectual
resistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive
phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand aud
foot ? Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means
which the God of nature hath placed in our power. The battle, sir,
is not to the strong alone ; it is to the vigilant, the active, the
brave.' " But we are not only to have an invading army marching into our
borders, but the gentleman's vivid imagination has pictured Wash
ington at the head of it, coming to inflict military chastisement on
his native State ; and who, exclaims he, would dare lift his hand
against the father of his country ? Sternly has he rebuked one of
you for venturing, in the outburst of patriotic feeling, to declare that
he would do it I bow with as much respect as any man at the name
of Washington. I have been taught to look upon it with a venera
tion little short of that of my Creator. But while I love Csesar, I
love Rome more. Should he, forgetful of the past, grown ambitious of
power, and, seduced by the artful machinations of those who seek to
use his great name in the subjugation of his country, lift a parricidal
hand against the bosom of the State that gave him birth and crowned
him with his glory, because she has dared to assert those rights that
belong to her, not by the laws of nature, but those rights that have
been reserved to her by this very Constitution that she partly ordained.

MARCH COURT.

141

and without which she must drag out an existence of helpless and
hopeless imbecility, I trust there will be found many a Brutus to
avenge her wrongs. I promise, for one, so help me God ! — and it is
in no boastful spirit I speak— that I vrill not be an idle spectator of
the tyrannical and murderous tragedy, so long as I have an arm to
wield a weapon, or a voice to cry shame ! Shame on you for inflict
ing this deadly blow in, the bosom of the mother that gave you exist
ence, and cherished your fame as her own brightest jewel."
We do not pretend, reader, to give you the language of John
Randolph on this occasion ; nor are we certain even that the thoughts
are his. We have nothing but the faint tradition of near flfty years to
go upon ; and happy are we if all our researches have enabled us to
make even a tolerable approximation to what was said. He^poke for
three hours ; all that time the people, standing on their feet, hung with
breathless silence on his lips. His youthful appearance, boyish tones,
clear, distinct, thrilling utterance ; his graceful action, bold expres
sions, fiery energy, and manly thoughts, struck them with astonish
ment A bold genius and an orator of the first order suddenly burst
upon them, and dazzled them with his power and brilliancy. A
prophet was among them, and they knew it not. When he concluded,
an old planter, turning to his neighbor, exclaimed ; " He's no bug-
eater now, I tell you." Dr. Hogue turned from the stand, and went
away, repeating to himself these lines from the " Deserted Village :"
" Amazed, the gazing rustics ranged around,
And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew.
That one small head could carry all he knew."
Mr. Henry, tuming to some by-stander, said : " I haven't seen
the little dog before, since he was at school ; be was a great atheist
then." He made no reply to the speech ; but, approaching Mr. Ran
dolph, he took him by the hand, and said : " Young man, you call me
father ; then, my son, I have somewhat to say unto thee (holding both
his hands)— '/ceep justice, keep truth, and you will live to think dif
ferently." They dined together, and Randolph, ever after venerated the
memory of his friend, who died in a few weeks from that day.
They were both elected in April ; the one to Congress, the other
to the State Legislature ; and, doubtless, many of the good free-

142 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
holders of Charlotte voted for both. Who can blame them ? Happy
people of Charlotte ! it was your lot to behold the bright golden sun
set of the great luminary whose meridian power melted away the
chains of British despotism and withered up the cankered heart of
disaffected Toryism ; then, turning with tearful eyes from the last
rays of the sinking orb, to hail, dawning on the same horizon, another
sun, just springing, as it were, from the night of chaos, mounting
majestically into his destined sphere, and driving clouds and darkness
before his youthful beams.

CHAPTEE XXII.
FRANCE. AND THE ADMINISTRATION.
Mr. Adams saved the country from a war with France, and a con
sequent alliance with Great Britain, and all the unimaginable events
that must have followed that connection ; but in so doing he destroyed
his party, and defeated his own re-election. No one, to our know
ledge, has ever attributed these results to a foreseen and predeter
mined self-sacrifice on his part for the good of the country. Those
who were associated with him and knew him best attribute his course
to far other causes. Before we proceed with our narrative, we will
give the reader a further insight into the character of this man, so
necessary to understand the complicated history of those times. A
mere detail of facts, without a knowledge of the causes that produced
them, or the character and motives of the men that acted them, can
afford no instruction to the student of history. Without some such
insight, the battle of the frogs or the wars of the giants would be
equally as instructive as the Punic Wars or the conflicts in the forum.
What we say of Mr. Adams is drawn from cotemporary history,
and in the language of those who were most intimately associated
him. The reader is already aware of his course before and during
the negotiations for the treaty of Paris, in 1782, and Dr. Franklin's
opinion of his character.
General Hamilton, a very good judge, said of him while President,
and during the great events we are now discoursing of, and in explana-

PRANCE AND THE ADMINISTRATION. 143
tion of their causes, that he possessed patriotism and integrity, and
even talents, of a certain kind ; but that he did not possess the talents
adapted to the administration of government, and that there were
great and intrinsic defects in his character, which unfitted him for
the office of Chief Magistrate. With all his virtues, he was tainted
with a disgusting egotism, a distempered jealousy, and an ungovern
able indiscretion of temper. When he and General Washington
were run together as candidates for the presidential and vice-
presidential office, it was thought all-important to secure the first
office to General Washington (a majority at that time determining
the question), by dropping a few votes from Mr. Adams. He com
plained of this as unfair treatment — said he ought to have been per
mitted to take an equal chance with General Washington. When, at
a subsequent period, he and Mr. Pinckney were on the same ticket,
it was thoughtj by the federal party, that the success of their cause
ought not to be hazarded by dropping any of the votes ; it was not a
matter of such importance that Mr. Adams or Mr. Pinckney should
be elected President, as that Mr. Jefferson should be defeated. He
was enraged with all those who thought that Mr. Pinckney ought to
have an equal chance with himself. To this circumstance, in a great
measure, may be attributed the serious schism which, at a, subsequent
period, grew up in the federal party. Mr. Adams never could for
give the men who were engaged in the plan, though it embraced some
of his most partial admirers. He discovered bitter animosity against
several of them. His rage against General Hamilton was so ve
hement, that he could not restrain himself within the forms of civility
or decorum, in the presence of that gentleman. His jealousy of the
Pinckneys was notorious, and it dated as far back as the appointment
of Mr. Thomas Pinckney, by Washington, as envoy to the Court of
London. Mr. Adams desired the appointment for himself, notwith
standing the impropriety — he being the Vice-President — and next
he desired it for his son-in-law. In the bitterness of disappointment,
he played into the hands of the opposition party, and charged upon
General Washington that the appointment had been made under
British influence.
Soon after his own appointment of General Washington, in July,
1798, as Commander-in-Chief of all the armies of the United States,
he became jealous of the overshadowing influence of that great

144 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
character, and did all he oould, consistently with his station, to thwart
the plans, to delay and derange the measures, that Washington
thought most essential to the service.
His conduct in the appointment of general officers, proved that
he was fickle, inconsistent, and under the baneful influence of a dis
tempered jealousy.
With the country in imminent danger of a war ; with Washing
ton and Hamilton and C. C. Pinckney at the head of her armies, it
was natural that those who felt themselves responsible for the mea
sures that had brought the nation into that predicament, should look
to those great men as their guides, instead of the impulsive, aimless,
and unsteady character, nominally at the head of affairs. Even his
own cabinet had more frequent, intimate, and confidential communi
cations, on all public affairs, with the head of the army than with
himself He did not fail to perceive this ; and soon became enraged
with his own counsellors. Not long afterwards, some of them were
dismissed. A prominent charge against McHenry was, that the
Secretary, in a report to the House of Representatives, had eulogized
General Washington, and had attempted to eulogize General Hamil
ton, which was adduced as one proof of a combination, in which the
Secretary was engaged, to depreciate and injure him, the President.
Here, then, was the secret. His jealous and distempered fancy,
stimulated by evil counsel, had conjured up a formidable conspiracy,
in which his cabinet were implicated, the object of which was to de
preciate and injure him, and to exalt Hamilton or Pinckney above
him. To this cause may be attributed his extraordinary course in
regard to French affairs ; and those fatal aberrations, as they were
called by his friends, that resulted in peace with the French nation,
but in the destruction of himself and of his party.
We now proceed with the current of events, down to the meeting
of Congress, in 1796.
As our object is not a history of the country, but only of those
leading causes of history, a knowledge of which is essential to under
stand the position of political characters who figured at the time, we
shall confine ourselves to a development of French affairs, because
they absorbed all others, gave weight to the political atmosphere, and
indicated, by the elevation or depression of the barometer, the advance

FRANCE AND THE ADMINISTRATION. 145
or retrograde position of the two great parties that divided men and
controlled the politics of the country.
The reader is already aware, that on the departure of Messrs.
Pinckney and Marshall from Paris, in the spring of 1798, Mr. Gerry
was induced to remain ; but he obstinately persisted in refusing to
enter into any negotiation. About the last of May, 1798, the
X. Y. Z, dispatches, which had been published in America, found
their way to the hands of the French Minister of Foreign Affairs,
M. Talleyrand, He immediately inclosed the very strangt puboica-
tion, as he called it, to Mr. Gerry, and added : " I cannot observe
without surprise that intriguers have profited of the insulated con
dition in which the envoys of the United States have kept vhemseives
to make proposals and hold conversations, the object of which was,
evidently, to deceive you." He demanded the names of the parties
implicated, and to be informed whether any of the citizens attached
to his service, and authorized by him to see the envoys, told them a
word which had the least relation to the disgusting proposition which
was made by X. and Y., to give any sum whatever for corrupt distri
bution. Mr. Gerry disclosed the names of the parties. Two of them, the
most conspicuous characters, X. and Y., were foreigners, and unknown
to the French Government ; the third, Mr. Z., made himself known,
and proved that the part he had acted was wholly honorable. Mr.
Gerry added, further, that in regard to the citizens attached to the
employments of M. Talleyrand, and authorized by him to see the en
voys on official communications, not a word had fallen from any of
them which had the least relation to the proposition made by X. and
Y. in their informal negotiations, to pay money for corrupt purposes.
It is not at all improbable that members of the Directory, whose
term of office was exceedingly precarious, and even Talleyrand him
self, were not too virtuous to receive a douceur, or a bribe, to secure
their infiuence in the negotiation of a treaty ; but that they were, in
a roundabout way, actually fishing for one on this occasion, depends
solely on the statement of the two principal actors in the business,
who, in a most remarkable degree, gained the confidence of the envoys,
but who were, in fact, foreigners, unknown to the Government, and
corrupt persons, who fled the country on the discovery of the plot
There is not one corroborating circumstance to strengthen their story
VOL. I. 7

146 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Mr. Gerry admits that every member of the Government with whom
they communicated acted with the utmost propriety ; and that na
corrupt proposition came either from them or M. Talleyrand.
Napoleon, in his Revelations from St. Helena, in giving a history
of these transactions, says : " Certain intriguing agents, with which
sort of instruments the office of foreign relations was at that period
abundantly supplied, insinuated that the demand of a loan would be
desisted from, upon the advance of twelve hundred thousand francs,
to be divided between the Director Barras and the Minister Talley
rand." This whole narrative sf Bonaparte, when caiefully examined,!
is obviously drawn from public documents ; just such materials as we
have before us at this time. There is not the slightest evidence that
he had any personal knowledge of the transactions, and that he knew
from any other source than common report growing out of the publi
cations of the day, that Barras, or Talleyrand, had, through intriguing
agents, made an overture for a bribe.
Notwithstanding the publication of those X. Y. Z. dispatches, so
questionable in their character and design, so well calculated to irri
tate, yet the French Government would not be excited into a feeling
of hostility. " As to the French Government," says Talleyrand, on
the 10th of June, " superior to all personalities, to all the manoeuvres
of its enemies, it perseveres in the intention of conciliating with sin
cerity all the differences which have happened between the two coun
tries. I confirm it to you anew." He then proposes to proceed with
Mr. Gerry on the business of negotiation, discards any further demand
for a loan, and rests the whole negotiation on three simple proposi
tions, which might have been speedily and satisfactorily adjusted ;
and he urged on Mr. Gerry to send home for authority to conclude
the treaty, if he did not feel that he was already clothed with suffi
cient power for the purpose. But he strangely persisted in doing
neither one thing nor another : he would not send home and ask for
instruments necessary to the negotiation, nor for a successor to be
put in his stead for that purpose, nor would he enter into a full de
scription of all the points necessarily involved in a treaty, that he
might lay before his Government the terms of one he had informally
entered into, for their ratification or rejection. He had it in his
power, by a firm and manly course of statesmanship, to throw upon
the administration the responsibility of closing at once all subjects

FRANCE AND THE ADMINISTRATION. 147
:f difierence with the French Republic, or by rejecting a favorable
treaty, to involve the country in war with that formidable power.
His only thought seems to have been to avoid doing any thing that
might hurt the feelings of his late colleagues, and to devise means to
get home. He never ceased begging Talleyrand to let him go home.
Talleyrand never ceased begging him to stay, and to attend to the
important and pressing afeirs of his country. At length, finding
Mr. Gerry wholly impracticable, he sent him his passports about the
last of July, and added, " As long as I could flatter myself, sir, with
fulfilling the wish of the Executive Directory, by endeavoring with
you to establish the good understanding between the French Repub
lic and the United States, I used my efforts, both in our conferences
and in my correspondence with you, to smooth the paths, to establish
the basis, to enter on the business, and to convince you of the utility
of your presence in Paris. It is in your character of Envoy of the
American Government I received you and wrote to you ; it depended
on yourself to be publicly received by the Executive Directory. . , .
You cannot dissemble, that if nothing prevented you from pursuing
with me the examining and reconciling of the grievances which divide
the two countries, we should not long stand in need of any thing but
the respective ratifications. . When scarcely informed of the
departure of Messrs. Pinckney and Marshall, I endeavored in every
conference I afterwards had with you to demonstrate to you the
urgency, the propriety, and the possibility of an active negotiation.
I collected your ideas ; they differed from my own — I endeavored to
reconcile them. On the 18th June I transmitted to you a complete
plan of the negotiations. On the 27th I sent you my first note for
discussion upon one of the points of the treaty; you declined answer
ing it On the 6th. of July I sent you two others. In vain I accom
panied these documents wi^h the most cordial invitation rapidly to
run over with me this series of indispensable discussions upon all our
grievances. You have not even given me an opportunity of proving
what liberality the Executive Directory would use on the occasion.
You never wrote, in fact, but for your departure?' In a postscript,
dated three days later, and after receiving advices from Anierica
giving an account of the warlike acts of Congress, passed in May and
June, M. Talleyrand addsj " It seems that, hurried beyond every
limit, your Government no longer preserves appearances."  ,

148 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
^He then cites the various acts that have been passed.) " The long-
suffering of the Executive Directory," continues he, " is about to
manifest itself in the most unquestionable manner. Perfidy will no
longer be able to throw a veil over the pacific dispositions, which it
has never ceased to manifest. It is at the very moment of this fresh
provocation, which would appear to leaVe no honorable choice but
war, that it confirms the assurances I have given you on its behalf
It is yet ready, it is as much disposed as ever, to terminate by a can
did negotiation the differences which subsist between the two coun
tries. Sue-h is its repugnance to consider the United States aa
enemies, that notwithstanding their hostile demonstrations, it means
to wait until it be irresistibly forced to it by real hostilities. Since
you will depart, sir, hasten, at least, to transmit to your Government
this solemn declaration,"
Mr, Gerry did hasten to lay these declarations before his Govem
ment on the first day of October, and added, that from the best in
formation he could obtain relative to the disposition of the Executive
JDirectory, they were very desirous for a reconciliation between the
Republics. No sooner had Mr. Gerry left the shores of France, than M.
Talleyrand opened a correspondence on American affairs with M.
Pichon, Secretary of Legation of the French Republic, near the
Batavian Republic, and requested that gentleman to give copies of
the same to the American minister, Mr. Murray, doubtless with an
expectation that they would be forwarded to the President of the
United States. In his letter of August the 28th, just twenty
days from the departure of Mr. Gerry, he says: "I see between
France and the United States no clashing of interests, no motives of
jealousy. Where is, therefore, the cause of the misunderstanding,
which, if France did not show herself the wisest, would bring from
this moment a great rupture between the two Republics ? There are
neither incompatible interests, nor projects of aggrandizement, which
divide them. Lately, distrust has done all the mischief The Gov
ernment of the United States has believed that France wished to have
revolutionized America ; France has believed that the Government
of the United States wished to throw itself into the arms of England.
It is because acrimony, having mingled itself with distrust, neither
side has taken true conciliatory means; It has been supposed, in tha

FRANCE AND THE ADMINISTRATION. 149
United States, that the French Government temporized, in order to
strike with greater safety. Hence followed a crowd of measures,
each one more aggravating than the other. In France, it has been
supposed that the Government of the United States wished only to
support the appearances of negotiation. Tlience there was a certain
insisting on pledges of good faith. Let us substitute calmness to
passions, confidence to suspicions, and we shall soon agree. I have
made my efforts to wind up a negotiation, in this manner, with Mr.
Gerry, My correspondence with him, until the day of his departure,
is a curious monument of advances from me, and of evasions from
him. I wished to encourage Mr. Gerry, by the marks of regard
which his good intention deserved, though I cannot dissemble to
myself that he had been wanting decision, at the moment when he
might easily have settled every thing properly'' In a word, he
winds up with giving Mr. Murray, through M. Pichon, the most
solemn assurances that a new plenipotentiary would be received with
out hesitation, and that an act of confidence towards them would en
courage confidence on their part This letter, so unequivocal in its
nature, and another, of a like tenor, making more direct overtures, if
possible, towards re-opening negotiations, must have reached the
President before the meeting of Congress in December. The Presi.
dent had other unequivocal, though less direct, evidences of the
pacific disposition of the Freneh Directory. Dr. George Logan, a
native of Pennsylvania, while in France, was introduced to the
Director Merlin, and afterwards visited him on the footing of a pri
vate friend. On one of these occasions. Merlin informed him that
France had not the least intention to interfere in the public affairs of
the United States ; that his country had acquired great reputation in
having assisted America to become a free republic, and that they
never would disgrace their own revolution by attempting the destruc
tion of the United States, • Dr. Logan returned home early in No
vember, and hastened to communicate what he thought good news, to
the Secretary of State'. He was coldly received by Mr. Pickering,
and informed that his news was of no importance. General Wash
ington was at the seat of government about the time (Nov., 1798),
arranging his military operations with Generals Hamilton, Pinckney,
and the Secretary of War. Dr. Logan called on him. His recep
tion was even more cold and repulsive than that of the Secretary

150 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
'When Logan repeated to him the conversation with Merlin, he re.
plied, that it was very singular ; that he, who could only be viewed
as a private character, unarmed with proper powers, and presump
tively unknown in France, could effect what three gentlemen of the
first respectability in our country, specially charged under the
authority of the Government, were unable to do. " You, sir," with
some emphasis on the word, " were more fortunate than our envoys,
for they would neither be received nor heard by M, Merlin, nor the
Directory.'' It is very evident that General Washington, at that time, was
highly exasperated with France ; that all his feelings were enlisted
against her ; and, that, had he been at the head »f affairs, it would
have taken much more than Talleyrand's overtures to have induced
him to recommence negotiations. Had Washington been President
in 1798, or Hamilton, or Pinckney, or had Mr. Adams yielded more
readily to the counsel of his cabinet, who were wholly under the infiu
ence of the Triumvirate, the United States would unquestionably have
been involved in a war with the Freneh Republic. But Mr. Adams,
whether from the motives assigned, or from higher patriotic consider
ations, refused the dictation, and saved the country from so calami
tous a war as that would have been with the French Republic. Just
before the meeting of Congress, he arrived in Philadelphia, from his
seat at Quincy. The tone of his mind seemed to have been raised,
rather than depressed. It was suggested to him (by the military
conclave — says Mr. Jefferson) that it might be expedient to insert in
the speech to Congress, a sentiment of this import — that after the re
peatedly rejected advances of this country, its dignity required that
it should be left with France, in future, to make the first overture ;
that if, desirous of reconciliation, she should evince the disposition
by sending a minister to this Government, he would be received with
the respect due to his character, and treated with in the frankness of
a sincere desire of accommodation.
The suggestion was received in a manner both indignant and in
temperate. Mr. Adams declared as a sentiment, which he had adopt
ed on mature reflection. That if France should send a minister to
morrow, he would order him back the next day.
So imprudent an idea was easily refuted. But yet, in less than
forty-eight hours from this extraordinary sally, the mind of Mr.

FRANCE AND THE ADMINISTRATION. I5I
Adams underwent a total revolution. He resolved not only to insert
in his speech the sentiment which had been proposed to him, but to
go farther, and to declare, that if France would give explicit assur
ances of receiving a minister from this country, with due respect,
he would send one.
In vain was this extension of the sentiment opposed by all his
ministers, as being equally incompatible with good policy and with
the dignity of the nation. He obstinately persisted, and the decla
ration was introduced. The reader may account for this change in
the mind of the President in two ways. In the first place, we may
presume that he knew nothing of the dispatches containing the cor
respondence of Mr. Gerry with M. Talleyrand, which might have
been received in his absence ; but that on perusing the oorrespour
dence, he was forcibly struck with the fact that a reconciliation with
France depended solely on him. That correspondence presented the
business in this light : France says — Two of the ministers you sent
to treat with me are personally offensive, on account of their hostile
opinions and haughty demeanor, a sentiment, according to the laws
of nations, we have a right to express, without giving offence to you.
I early expressed a desire that those gentlemen would depart, and a
readiness to open negotiation with the third, who evinced better dis
positions towards conciliation. I told him to send home for addi
tional powers, if he doubted his authority to act alone, or to inform
his Government that another minister would be received to treat in
his stead, or to agree informally on the terms of a treaty, which he
might submit for consideration on his return to the United Statea
But declining to act on the one or the other of these propositions^
and still insisting on his return home, I then told him distinctly to
say to his Government, France has no cause of quarrel with America,
does not desire war, and is ready to receive in good faith a minister
of peace, whenever one may be sent. Such was the attitude of tha
subject exhibited by the dispatches of Mr. Gerry.
It was impossible for a President of the United States to under
stand them, and then to take upon himself the responsibility of re
jecting those overtures of peace. In this way we may account for the
sudden change in the mind of Mr. Adams, and do credit to his firm
ness and patriotism. But is it reasonable to suppose that he was
Ignorant of those dispatches, or their contents, tiU so late a period ?

152 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Mr. Gerry had arrived, and communicated them to the State Depart
ment on the first day of October. He himself was an intimate per
sonal friend of the President, and lived in the same State and neigh
borhood. The most reasonable conclusion, therefore, is, that Mr.
Adams was well informed on the whole subject when he arrived in
Philadelpha, and that the change in his course was produced by the
motives assigned at the time — that is, a jealousy of Hamilton and
Pinckney, and a belief that a plot was on foot in which his cabinet
were implicated, to degrade and injure him, and to exalt the one or
the other of those military characters in his place.
But, notwithstanding this apparent change in his mind towards
the most pacific measures, he kept back from Congress those impor
tant dispatches of Mr. Gerry, and other information of a pacific kind,
till the 1 Sth of January, 1 799. They were then accompanied by an
elaborate report of the Secretary of State, in which he says the
points chiefly meriting attention are the attempts of the French Go
vernment ; 1. To exculpate itself from the charge of corruption ; 2.
To detach Mr. Gerry from his colleagues, and to inveigle him into a
separate negotiation ; and 3. Its design, if the negotiation failed, and
a war should take place between the United States and France, to
throw the blame of the rupture on the United States. The Secre
tary labors to keep up the spirit of distrust towards France, and to prove
that all the overtures of her minister are insincere, merely intended
to deceive the United States, and to gain time. " Warmly profes
sing its desire of reconciliation," says he in conclusion, " it gives no
evidence of its sincerity ; but proofs, in abundance, demonstrate that
it is not sincere. From standing erect, and in that commanding atti
tude requiring implicit obedience, cowering, it renounces some of its
unfounded demands. But I hope we shall remember that tlie tiger
crouches b^ore he leaps upon his prey}' . A very different temper this
from that of the President in his opening speech to Congress in De
cember ; nor does it show a very harmonious co-operation between
the Chief Magistrate and his ministers.
Just one month from the communication of the Secretary's report
to Congress — that is, on the 18th of February, the President nomi
nated William Vans Murray as envoy to the French Republic. This
measure was taken without any previous consultation with his minis
ters. The nomination was, to each of them, even to the Secretary

FRANCE AND THE ADMINISTRATION. 153
of State, his constitutional counsellor in such affairs, the first notice
of the project. The nomination was accompanied with a letter of
Talleyrand to M. Pichon, dated 28th September, 1798; and the
second, of like tenor, giving assurances that a minister from the
United States would be received and accredited.
The precipitate nomination of Mr. Murray brought Mr. Adams
into an awkward predicament. He found it necessary to change his
plan in its progress, and, instead of one, to nominate three envoys,
and to superadd a promise, that, though appointed, they should not
leave the United States till further and more perfect assurances were
given by the French Government. This remodiflcation of the 'mea
sure was a virtual acknowledgment that it had been premature. It
argued either instability of views, or want of sufficient consideration
beforehand. General Washington disapproved very highly of the measure.
He was immediately informed of it by the Secretary of State : and
in reply, said — "The unexpectedness of the event communicated
in your letter of the 21st ultimo did, as you may suppose, sur
prise me not a little. But far, very far indeed was this surprise
short of what I experienced the next day, when, by a very intelligent
gentleman, immediately from Philadelphia, I was informed that there
had been no direct overture from the Government of France to that
of the United States for a negotiation ; on the contrary, that M. Tal
leyrand was playing the same loose and round-about game he had
attempted the year before with our wrongs ; and which, as in that
ease, might mean any thing or nothing, as would subserve his purpose
best" The speculations of the Republicans on the other hand were to
the following effect. " I inform you," says Mr Jefferson in a letter
to Madison, " of the nomination of Murray. There is evidence that
the letter of Talleyrand was known to one of the Secretaries, and
therefore probably to all ; the nomination, however, is declared by
one of them to have been kept secret from them all. He added that
he was glad of it, as, had they been consulted, the advice would have
been against making the nomination. To the rest of the party, how
ever, the whole was a secret till the nomination was announced.
Never did a party show a stronger mortification, and consequently
that war had been their object, Dana declared in debate (as I have
VOL. L 7*

154 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
from those who were present), that we had done every thing which
might provoke France to a war ; that we had given her insults which
no nation ought to have borne ; and yet she would not declare war
The conjecture as to the Executive is, that they received Talleyrand's
letter before or about the meeting of Congress : that not meaning to
meet the overture effectually, they kept it secret, and let all the war
measures go on ; but that just before the separation of the Senate,
the President, not thinking he could justify the concealing such an
overture, nor indeed that it oould be concealed, made a nomination,
hoping that his friends in the Senate would take on their own shoul
ders the odium of rejecting it ; but they did not choose it. The
Hamiltonians would not, and the others could not, alone. The whole
artillery of the phalanx, therefore, was played secretly on the Presi
dent, and he was obliged himself to take a step which should parry
the overture while it wears the face of acceding to it. (Mark that I
state this as conjecture ; but founded on workings and indications
which have been under our eyes.) Yesterday, therefore (25th Feb.),
he sent in a nomination of Oliver Ellsworth, Patrick Henry, and
William Vans Murray, Envoys Extraordinary and Ministers Pleni
potentiary to the French Republic, but declaring the two former
should not leave this country, till they should receive from France
assurances that they should be received with the respect due by the
laws of nations to their character. This, if not impossible, mugt
keep off at least the day so hateful and so fatal to them, of reconcilia
tion, and leave more time for new projects of provocation."
The truth is, the friends of the Government were not agreed as
to ulterior measures. Some were for immediate and unqualified war —
of this class were Hamilton and most of the military gentry — others
were for a more mitigated course : the dissolution of treaties, pre
paration of force by land and sea, partial hostilities of a defensive
tendency ; leaving to France the option of seeking accommodation,
or proceeding to open war. As most of the responsibility rested
on members of Congress, this latter course was preferred by them,
and prevailed. Either course was consistent with itself and admit
ted of a steady line of policy. But the President, having no fixed
object, and governed by the impulse of the moment, came athwart all
their plans and destroyed them. Notwithstanding the modifications
of his embassy, it was very evident that most of the federal membera

FRANCE AND THE ADMINISTRATION. 155
of both branches of Congress carried home with them a settled dis
like to the measure. They regarded it as iU-timed, built upon too
slight grounds, and, therefore, humiliating to the United States ; as
calculated to revive French principles, strengthen the party against
Government, and produce changes in the sentiments and conduct of
some of the European powers, that might materially affect the in
terests and growing commercial prospects of the United States,
Before the envoys departed, intelligence was received of a new
revolution in the French Government, and the expulsion of two of the
Directory, This was thought to be a valid motive for delay — at
least till it could be known whether the new Directory woald ratify
the assurances of the old one. When the news of the revolution in
the Directory arrived, Mr, Adams was at his seat in Massiohusetts.
His ministers addressed to him a joint letter, communicating the in
telligence, and submitting to his consideration, whether that even!
ought to suspend the projected mission. In a letter which he aftei-
wards wrote from the same place, he directed the preparation of a
draft of instructions for the envoys, and intimated that their depar
ture would be suspended for some time.
Shortly after, about the middle of October 1799, he came to the
seat of government, when he adjusted with his ministers the tenor
of the instructions to be given ; but observed a profound silence on
the question whether it was expedient that the mission should ¦prb-
ceed. The ministers expected a consultation on the great question,
whether the mission to France would be suspended until the fate of
its Government could be known. But they were disappointed. The
President alone considered and decided. The morning after the in
structions were settled, he signified to the Secretary of State that
the envoys were immediately to depart.
Though uncommunicative to his constitutional advisers, he was
very free in his conversations with the envoys as to his expectations
in regard to their embassy. He told them that the French Govern
ment would not accept the terms, which they were instructed to pro
pose ; that they would speedily return ; and that he should have to
recommend to Congress a declaration of war. "But as to the
French negotiation producing a war with England," said he, " if it did,
England could not hurt us." " When," Mr. Ellsworth says, " Pick
ering recited this last idea to \me and Mr. Wolcott, I had not pa-

156 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
tience to hear more. And yet the President has several times, in hiS
letters to me, from Quincy, mentioned the vast importance of k^eep-
ing on good terms with England."
The reader cannot be surprised that such a man should work the
destruction of any party that regarded him as its head ; indeed that,
with him, there was no such thing as party ; either he was elevated
above ordinary mortals, and studied the good of the country alone,'
without regard to his own interests, or sunk beloW the level of com
mon-trading politicians who care for neither measures nor men, only
so far as they may conspire to their own personal elevation.
When the new Congress, of which John Randolph was a mem
ber, assembled at the Capitol in December, 1799, the federal party
apparently compact, and with a majority of at least twenty in the
House of Eepresentatives, carried within it all the elements of dis
solution. The death blow had been given by its own friends, and it
required time only to discover the causes of its rapid decay. When
the extraordinary events of which we have spoken were made known
to Washington, on the 17th of November, 1799, but a few weeks be
fore his death, he would answer nothing to them, but exclaimed, " 1
have been stricken dumb! I have, some time past," says he, " viewed
the political concerns of the United States with an anxious and
painful eye. They appear to me to be moving by hasty strides to a
crisis ; but in what it will result, that Being who sees, foresees, and
directs all things, alone can tell. The vessel is afloat, or very nearly
so, and considering myself as a passenger only, I shall trust to the
mariners, whose duty it is to watch, to steer it into a safe pott"
Thou great and good man ! the ship is afloat ! When first launched
upon the deep, thine own seamanship guided the untried vessel o'er
many a stormy billow, with Scylla and Charybdis on either hand ;
thy wakeful eye didst steer right onward ; but never was it permit
ted thee, thou good Palinurus, to see the ship steered into a safe port !
From amidst thy fellow-passengers, all weeping and gazing in the
heavens, thou wert borne aloft in a chariot of fire, and, by bands of
celestial spirits heralded into realms of immortal glory. And now,
the old Iron-sides having buffeted many a stormy sea, and riding
gallantly with all her banners streaming, hails thee her first, her best)
her greatest Captain !

SCENE IN THE PLAYHOUSE. 157

CHAPTEE XXIII,
SCENE IN THE PLAYHOUSE: — STANDING AEMY,
On the first day of January, eighteen hundred, Washington was
dead ; Bonaparte First Consul of France, Our envoys had been
favorably received. Every prospect of a satisfactory adjustment of
the differences between the two republics, and no further need for
the large army which had been established, and tha other vast and
expensive military preparations that had been projected with so
much vigor under the X. Y, Z. excitement. Accordingly, on the 7th
of January, Mr. Nicholas, a leading member of the republican party,
moved in the House a resolution to repeal the act passed the 16th of
July, 1798, entitled "An act to augment the army of the United
States." The debate lasted for several days, and was warm and ani
mated. On the 10th the motion was lost by a vote of sixty to thirty-
nine. It was a strict party vote, and showed a majority of twenty-
one for the federalists, John Eandolph, for the first time, partici
pated in the debate this day. The part he performed will be given
in his own words, " In the course of the debates upon the resolution
of Mr. Nicholas, I took occasion to say that the people of the United
States ought not to depend for their safety on the soldiers enlisted
under the laws, the repeal of which was the object of the resolution,
and casually, but justly, applied to them the epithet of ragamuffins.
I also declared that standing, or mercenary armies, were inconsistent
with the spirit of our Constitution, or the genius of a free people.
General Lee, and others, dilated upon these terms. He affirmed the
last to be misapplied, and defined the word mercenary so as to give
it an application only to troops hired for the defence of a country
other than their own. In reply, I contended that there was no ety
mology which would warrant his construction ; that the term was de
rived from a Latin word which signified wa,^es, and did not embrace,
as he had declared my meaning would justify, the militia, which likewise
receives pay when in actual service, but was exclusively appropri
ated to such men (whether foreigners, or otherwise) as made the art
military a profession, or trade, and was properly expressive of a stand-

158 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
ing army who served for wages and by contract, in contradistinction
to a militia, or patriotic army, which was composed of all ranks of
citizens, equally bound to fight the battles of their country, and in
which each contributed his share to the public safety, and who re
ceived pay only when in actual service, to enable the poorer citizen
to perform his military duty.
" In consequence of my application of these terms to the existing
establishment — -the first of which I confined to such recruits as had
been picked up in my own country — a party ot officers, the principal
agents among whom were a Captain M'Knight and a Lieutenant Mi
chael Eeynolds, both belonging to the marine coips, being apprised
that I was in the playhouse on Friday evening last (on which day
the resolution was lost, about six o'clock), came into the box where
I was, and commenced their operations by frequent allusions, aimed
at me, to what was going on in the house. The play was The Stran
ger, and the after-piece Bluebeard. They asked one another if the
soldiers on the stage did not act very well for mercenaries ; said they
supposed from their color (Turks) they were Virginians ; squeezed
into the seat with evident intention to incommode us, particularly
myself; and when we were leaving the box, gave me a twitch by the
coat ; but upon the author being demanded, they had disappeared.
On going down stairs, some of the gentlemen said they tried to push
us all down in mass, and in the street they passed with a rude quick
ness, jostling one of the gentlemen, and striking another's foot. In
their aim upon me they were disappointed. I regarded all they said
with the most perfect nonchalance ; was unmoved by their attempts
to insult me, except when they offered personal violence ; and in con
formity to what I thought my duty, laid a written complaint before
the President. To-day (Tuesday, the 14th) he sent it to the House
with a letter, in which he lays it before us ' without any comment
upon its style.' I must not omit telling you that my feelings were
Strongly excited. A motion was made to provide a committee of
privileges, to whom it was to be referred. This I opposed, express
ing my surprise that the letter had been laid before us, a measure
which I had not contemplated when I wrote it ; that I had addressed
it to the authority whose particular duty it was to suppress such
conduct in the military, and disclaimed all wish to throw myself upon
the protection of himself or of that House ; that the privileges of

SCENE IN THE PLAYHOUSE. 159
Congress being expressly defined by the Constitution, I was unwill
ing to give my assent to any measure which might lead to enlarge
them, and which, even if we had a right to adopt it, would hereafter
be prostituted to nefarious designs. My objection was overruled,
and a committee appointed of seven, on which the speaker had the
uncommon goodness to nominate three republicans.
" Perhaps some misguided persons may be induced to depreciate
the motives by which I have been actuated. I cannot help it. My
business is to do what I conceive right, careless of the opinion of all.
I was delighted to flnd my sentiments upon this subject coincided
with those of Dr. Tucker ; it is no bad criterion of the truth of any
opinion that it meets his assent. I sometimes look back upon the
principles which once governed my moral conduct with astonishment —
how much to be regretted it is, that the painted phantom of honor
should be dressed in such captivating colors as to suffer few of the
nobler minds to escape her contagious embrace."
The letter addressed to the President, after stating the affair in
the theatre, proceeds thus — " Having stated the fact, it would be de
rogatory to your character for me to point out the remedy. So far
as they relate to this application addressed to you in a public capaci
ty, they can only be supposed by you to be of a public nature. It is
enough for me to state, that the independence of the legislature has
been attacked, and the majesty of the people, of which you are the
principal representative, insulted, and your authority contemned.
In their name, I demand that a provision commensurate with the evil
be made, and which will be calculated to deter others from any future
attempt to introduce the reign of terror into our country. In ad
dressing you in this plain language of man, I give you, sir, the best
proof I can afford of the estimation in which I hold your office and
your understanding ; and I assure you with truth, that I am with re
spect, your fellow-citizen,
" John Eandolph,
" Chamber H, Representatives Jan. 11,— 24th Independence.
" To the President of the U. States."
The reader perceives here none of those courtly and unmeaning
(if not worse) phrases that usually begin and end the epistles address
ed to high functionaries by those who seek to gain their favor by ob-

160 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
sequiousness and flattery — To his Excellency, the, President of tke.
United States — Yowr most obedient and humble servant — none of
that, but an unvarnished, straight-forward statement of facts ; he tells
the President that the independence of the legislature has been at
tacked, the majesty of the people insulted, and demands that he,
their chief representative, shall make some provision adequate to pre
vent the reign of terror from being introduced into the country. The
whole letter was conceived in a stern, independent, republican spirit,
and ought not, we would suppose, to have given offence to any one
who understood and duly appreciated the term fellow-citizen.
This letter the President thought proper on Jhe 14th of the
month to communicate to the House — " As the inclosed letter," says
he, " from a member of your body, received by me on the night of
Saturday the llth inst,, relates to the privileges of the House, which
in my opinion ought to be inquired into by the House itself, if any
where. I have thought proper to submit the whole letter and its
tendencies to your consideration, without any other comments on its
matter and style." It is very plain what he and Pickering thought
about both.
The committee appointed to take this matter of privilege into con
sideration, consisted of Messrs. Chauncey, Goodrich, Macon, Kittera,
Jones, Sewell, Eobert Williams, and Bayard — Mr. Macon was ex
cused and Mr. Hanna appointed in his stead.
Messrs. Goodrich, Kittera, Sewell, and Bayard, constituting the
majority of the committee, were the most distinguished and influen
tial members of the federal party in the House,
On the 18th, Mr, Eandolph addressed the following commu
nication to the Chairman of the Committee : — '¦'¦ A mature considera
tion of the subject induces me to suspect, that a refusal on my part
to communicate the information requested by you a few days ago,
could only have originated in a false delicacy, under whose impulse
I am determined never to act; I shall therefore proceed to state
some instances of the misconduct of Capt, M'Knight and Lieut. Eey
nolds, on the night of Friday, the 10th instant.
" Exclusive of repeated assertions to what passed in the House
of Eepresentatives during the debate of the preceding day, and a fre
quent repetition of some words which fell from me during that dis
cussion, in a manner so marked as to leave no doubt on my mind, or

SCENE IN THE PLAYHOUSE, 161
that of Messrs. Van Eensselaer, Christie, or Macon, of their intention
to insult me personally ; finding me determined to take no notice
of their words, they adopted a conduct which placed their designs be
yond every possibility of doubt, and which they probably conceived
to be calculated \x> force me into their measures. Mr Christie had
left his seat between me and the partition of the box ; after which,
Mr. Van Eensselaer, who sat on the other side of me, laid down, so
as to occupy a more than ordinary portion of _room, and occasioned
my removal to a part of Mr. Christie's former seat, leaving a very
small vacancy between myself and the partition. Into this Lieut.
Eeynolds suddenly, and without requesting or giving time for room
to be made for him, dropped with such violence as to bring our hips
into contact The shock was sufficient to occasion a slight degree of
pain on my part, and for which it is probable he would in some de
gree have apologized, had not the act been intentional. Just before
I left the box, one of them, I believe M'Knight, gave me a sudden
and violent pull by the cape of my coat Upon my demanding who
it was, (this was the first instance in which I noticed their proceed
ings,) no answer was given. I then added, that I had long perceived
an intention to insult me, and that the person offering it was a pup
py. No reply that I heard was made.
" It will be impossible for me, sir, to specify the various minute
actions of these persons and their associates, which tended to the
same point. Suffice it to say, that their whole deportment exhibited
an insolence, and their every act betokened a bold defiance, which
can nether be defined nor mistaken, and which, according to the gene
rally received opinions of the world, not only would have justified,
but demanded chastisement.
" Eeferring the committee to the numerous and authentic ac
counts of this transaction, which the gentlemen present are so well
calculated to give, I remain with respect, sir,
" Your fellow-citizen, " John Eandolph."
Those gentlemen, Mr. Christie, Mr. Macon, Mr. Nicholson, and
others, men of great respectability, and members of Congress, did
confirm in every particular the above statement. There rested not
the shadow of a doubt on their mind, that Eeynolds and M'Knight

162 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
intended to insult Mr. Eandolph, and to inflict personal injury on
him, for words spoken in debate.
The only testimony in opposition to those gentlemen of such
high respectability, and Mr. Eandolph's own statement, so detailed
and explicit, was the declaration of those persons themselves. Their
testimony is evidently an equivocation : they say they did not so to
the theatre with the intention of insulting Mr. Eandolph. '-I
did not know," says M'Knight, " Mr. Eandolph was to be at the
theatre, nor do I ever recollect seeing him previous to Friday even
ing ; and, from his youthful appearance and dress, I had no idea oj
his bei/ng a meraber of tive House of Representatives}' All this may
be very true, and yet after reaching there, it is very evident they
conceited the idea of insulting and injuring him.
The committee, after collecting all the evidence they could find
material in the case, report the following resolutions :
Resolved, That this House entertains a respectful sense of the re
gard which the President of the United States has shown to its
rights and privileges, in his message of the 14th instant, accompanied
by a letter addressed to him by John Eandolph, Jun,, a member of
this House.
Resolved, That in respect to the charge alleged by John Ean
dolph, Jun., a member of this House, in his letter addressed to the
President of the United States, on the eleventh instant, and by him
submitted to the consideration of this House, that sufficient cause
does not appear for the interposition of this House, on the ground of
a breach of its privileges.
The first resolution was passed without a division. To the se
cond, several amendments were offered, going to censure M'Knight
and Eeynolds, but were rejected. Then the resolution itself was re
jected, by a majority of twelve, showing that even that House were
not prepared to sacrifice their privileges, which had been so evidently
and wantonly insulted and trampled on. The Speaker then ruled
all further action on the subject out of order, and so shoved it aside.
We leave Mr. Eandolph's friend and contemporary, William
Thompson, to make his commentaries on these transactions, the more
valuable as the spontaneous effusions of an ingenuous and noble
mind : — " The committee," says he, " who sat to examine the charge
ftgainst several minions of executive power, which, of all that can be

SCENE IN THE PLAY-HOUSE. 163
brought against men, was most serious, as being most destructive to
the liberties of America — the committee who were called on to say
whether the privileges of the House should be prostrated, as the privi
leges of the people have been — the committee who were called on to
decide whether a set of armed ruffians should surround the capitol,
and dictate our laws — this committee have determined, that although
there were some circumstances (language of the report) which deserved
censure, yet they were not of such a nature as to be considered a
breach of the privileges of the House. Admit the meaning which
they wish to give to some circumstances, I say, if there were any cir
cumstance, no matter how trivial in its nature it may be, if on the
most rigid inquiry it can be found that a legislator is insulted for his
ofiieial conduct, that the man who insults c ffers an insult to the peo
ple ; and that the men who do not, when called on, infiict all the
punishment their power licenses, is an enemy, are enemies to the
liberty of America, What, sir, will result from the decision of that
committee ? The republicans are liable to daily and hourly insults —
the soldiers of Philadelphia are to be raised to a Pretorian band —
our measures are to be dictated by the willing foes of our liberty — '¦
and virtuous opposition is to be silenced by the bayonet Let me
not be told that these apprehensions are ridiculous ; I say they are
grounded in the full conviction, that the military mob is supported by
the administration, and that administration will make great sacrifices
to their love of power. I say it is grounded on a conviction that this
ftrmy is not now kept up to secure, us from invasion ; but that it con
templates something, and I fear that something is injurious to my
country. That the insults you received were not offered to you as
an individual, is certain ; for as an individual, separate from your
principles, I perceive they knew you not ; it is certain, because your
words were quoted. Not content with debasing us in fact, they wish
to debase us even in appearance — they cavU at your words. Had
you addressed the President in courtly style, they would forgive the
contents of your letter ; addressing him as you have done, we applaud
the conduct, and we rejoice there is one man left us whose principles
and whose manners stand uncorrupted in these corrupted times.
I say we, for I speak the language of many ; I say we, for I
speak the language of your State. The persecutions of a faction
have made you more dear to us. Not that your merits are in-

164 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
creased by circumstances, but because this is a glaring instance
amongst many, that men are persecuted as the organs of principles.
This committee have done more, anxious that no opportunity should
be lost to liquidate part of the great debt of adulation, they have inter
woven a motion of thanks to the President for the respectful sense he
has shown of their privileges. Whither does this lead ? Is it not to
be apprehended, that by this conduct your rights are to be changed
into courtesy, that your rights are to hang on the nod of your Presi
dent ? Does this man deserve thanks for the compliance with his
official duties ? Does he deserve thanks for doing that for which he
is paid by his country ? The friends of America look at this affair
with wonder and with horror. The timid part of the community say
we will not send a man whose principles are obnoxious, for fear of
consequences ; the patriots of your State say we will send men who
dare to speak the truth, no matter in whose ears it is grating. But
it was disrespectful to call him fellow-citizen ! Yes, he is not a fel
low-citizen, because he is chief officer, he is alienated by promotion.
There is more truth in his having been aliened than they would
admit. I will forget for a moment that I am personally acquainted
with you, and state, tljat you evinced in this affair an intrepid cool
ness, a firmness, and calmness, which must convince every man, not
sworn to partiality, that every word of your evidence is most rigid
truth. But your remark of mercenary and ragamuffin was gall
ing to certain men in that House ; your arguments throughout the
whole were unanswerable ; and your naked truths (for I will adopt
your very appropriate expression) were dangerous to men who, un
veiled, are damned,"
This affair created, at the time, great excitement through the
country. It was considered as but one of a series of events that had
for their end the subjugation of the people to the will of the federal
oligarchy. The enormous public debt, which was daily increasing by
heavy loans at usurious interest, the funding system, the National
Bank, the recently-created navy establishment, and large standing
army without an enemy or the prospect of an enemy, the alien and
the sedition laws in active operation, sparing neither station nor age,
had given an alarming and a powerful centralizing action to the
Government And it was thought that the evil tendencies of all those
measures wera now consummated in the humiliation of the legisla-

SCENE IN THE PLAY-HOUSE. 165
ture to executive authority, and its tame submission to the arrogance
of military pride. The trivial occurrence in the theatre, giving an
opportunity to the President to display- his petulant temper and his
high sense of official consequence, and to the House of Eepresenta
tives to manifest their subservient spirit, proved to be a very serious
business. The people, more sagacious than they have credit for
among some politicians, saw at once the tendency of these proceedings ;
and Eandolph was hailed throughout the Union as the champion of
the rights of the people. The very morning (15th January) his cor
respondence with the President appeared in the Philadelphia papers,
and before any action thereon by the House, he received a communi
cation professing to convey the sentiments of a number of respectable
citizens. " It is our decided opinion," say they, " that the person of
a delegate in Congress ought to be as sacred from public or private
insult as the person of an ambassador to a foreign power. Should this
flagrant violation of the privilege of a member of your House which
has been offered to your person be winked at, may not enterprising
men introduce parties into the House, which, by putting its members
in bodily fear, will completely shackle the freedom of* debate, and
thereby injure the public good ?" They then proceed to thank him for
having the boldness candidly to avow tive real sentiments of his heart,
with a huge capital R and a tremendous underscoring of the word real
in the original document, which is now before us. We might infer from
this that such boldness was very unusual at that time. And indeed it
was true. Madison had retired before the storm ; so had Giles and the
plain blunt-spoken Finlay, of Pennsylvania. Gallatin was still there ;
but he was not the man for the crisis ; he was a foreigner, modest,
plain in his elocution, and dealt more in facts and figures of arith
metic than those bold metaphors and figures of speech so essential to
arouse and interest the people. The whole House might slumber
under Gallatin's demonstrations, while one sohrill echo of Eandolph's
voice would wake the seven sleepers. Matthew Lyon is seen among
the silent voters ; but three months' imprisonment last winter in a
dungeon, not six feet square, under the sedition law, for daring to
publish words in disparagement of the President, has cooled his Irish
temper, and awed him into silence. This Harry Hotspur, therefore,
or young cornet of horse, burst suddenly among them like a sky
rocket. His boldness, his eloquence, his youthful appearance, struck

166 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
them with astonishment. But who can tell the effect of those naked
truths, which fell like hot shot among the enemy, all intrenched and
secure, as they supposed themselves, behind their formidable walls !
John Thompson's prediction was fulfilled in the very outset of his
career : He will became an object of admiration and terror fo the ene
mies of liberty I

CHAPTEE XXIV.
MAKE TO YOURSELF AN IDOL, AND, IN SPITE OF THE DECA
LOGUE, WOESHIP IT,
During the winter and spring of 1800 he kept up a regular cor
respondence with his friend, William Thompson, who, the reader
knows, had found a home and an asylum in his misfortunes under the
hospitable roof of Bizarre. The soothing temper he manifests towards
that unfortunate youth, the sound advice he gave him, so fraught with
wisdom and a knowledge of human nature, and his judicious and
well-timed encouragement, to arouse from his lethargy and become
the man he was capable of being, present the character of John Ran
dolph in a pleasing point of view, and explain in a measure those
traits of mind and disposition, known only to a few, that made him
such an object of devoted friendship on the part of those who were
honored by his intimate regard.
John Randdph,jun to his friend and brother, William Thompson.
Philadelphia, Dec. 31, 24th year,
" Your letter was peculiarly acceptable to me. It relieved ' me
from considerable anxiety on account of your health, to the ill state
of which I attributed that suspension of our correspondence, which
has originated in the derangement of the post office department ; it
contained assurances of that regard of which I never entertained a
doubt, but which, nevertheless, were extremely gratifying to me ; but
above all it put my mind at ease upon a subject which has been pro
ductive of considerable concern, I mean your change of residence,
which, as you will find by my last, I understood you had removed

IDOL-WORSHIP. 167
to Chinquepin Church — not knowing your reasons for leaving Bi
zarre, I could not combat. Great, however, was my surprise and
pleasure to receive a letter from Judy (Mrs. Richard Eandolph) and
yourself; both of which relieved my anxiety upon this head. I am,
moreover, charmed, my friend, that you are resolutely bent upon
study, and have made some progress therein. Let me conjure you
to adhere inflexibly to this rational pursuit. Your destiny is in your
own hands. Eegular employment is of all medicines the most effect
ual for a wounded mind. If the sympathy of a friend who loves yen
because yo« are amiable and unfortunate ; because you are the rep
resentative of that person (John Thompson died January, 1799) who
held the first place in his heart, and the first rank in the intellectual
order ; if my uniform friendship, my dear Thompson, could heal the
wounds of your heart, never should it know a pang. Your situation
is of all others the one most eminently calculated to repair, so far as
it is possible, the ills which you have sustained. An amiable woman,
who regards you as a brother, who shares your griefs, and will admin
ister as far as she can to your consolation, who unites to talents of
the first order a degree of cultivation uncommon in any country, but
especially in ours — such a woman is ui^der the same roof with you
Cultivate a familiarity with her ; each day will give you new and un
expected proof of the strength of her mind, and the extent of her
information. Books you have at command ; your retirement is
unbroken. Such a situation is, in my opinion, the best calculated for
a young man (under any circumstances) who will study ; or even for
one who is determined to be indolent. Female society, in my eye, is
an indispensable requisite in forming the manly character. That
which is offered to you is not to be paralleled, perhaps, in the world.
You call on me, my friend, for advice. You, bid me regard your
foibles with a lenient eye; you anticipate the joy which I shall
derive from your success, I will not permit " yself to doubt of
it. You shall succeed — you must. You have it in your power.
Exertion only is necessary. You owe it to the memory of our
departed brother, to yourself, to me, to your country, to human
ity ! Apprised that you have foibles to eradicate, the work ia
more than half accomplished, I will point them out with a friendly
yet lenient hand. You will not shrink from the probe, know
ing that in communicating present pain your ultimate cure and

163 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
safety is the object of the friendly operator. If I supposed myself
capable of inflicting intentional and wanton pain upon your feelings,
I should shrink with abhorrence from myself In the course of my
strictures I may, perhaps, appear abrupt. I am now pressed for
time. /
" Self-examination, when cool and impartial, is the best of all cor
rectives. It is a general and trite observation that man knows his
fellows better than himself This is too true ; but it depends upon
every individual to exhibit," in himself, a refutation of this received
maxim. Eetirement and virtuous society fit the mind for this task.
" Among your foibles I have principally observed unsteadiness ; a
precipitate decision, and the want of mature le^eaiion, generally. It
would be uncandid to determine your character by these traits, which
originate, perhaps, or are at least heightened, by the uneasiness which
preys upon your mind, which renders you more than usually restless.
Endeavor, my friend, to act less upon momentary impulse ; pause,
reflect ; think much and speak little ; form a steadiness of demeanor,
and having once resolved, persevere. Eead, but do not devour, books.
Compare your information ; digest it. In short, according to the
old proverb, " Make haste slowly," There is one point upon which
I must enjoin you to beware. You appeared restless, when I saw
you, to change your property. Let things stand as they are a little.
Facilis discensus, sed revooare gradum, hoc opus. (Excuse, I beseech
you, this pitiful display of learning.)
" The Due de la Eoohefoucault — who, by the by, is a bad moral
preceptor — has, among others, this very excellent maxim : ' We are
never made so ridiculous by the qualities we possess, as by those
which we affect to have.' I never knew a man who would not proflt
of this observation. To preserve your own esteem, merit it. I have
iio fear that you will ever render yourself unworthy of its greatest
good. Yet, a man who is so unfortunate as to lose his own good
opinion, is wrong to despair. It may be retrieved. He ought to set
about it immediately, as the only reparation which he can make to
himself or society. The ill opinion of mankind is often misplaced ;
but our own of ourselves never.
" Pardon, my dear brother, this pedantic and didactic letter. Its
sententiousness is intolerable, yet it was almost unavoidable, I had
written till my fingers were cramped. The hour of closing the mail

IDOL-WORSHIP. 169
approached, and I was obliged to throw my sentiments into the offen
sive form of dogmas. That I, who abound in foibles, and, to speak
truth, vices — that I should pretend to dogmatize, may appear to many
arrogant indeed. Yet, let them recollect that we are all frail, and
should sustain each other ; and that the truth of a precept is not de
termined by the practice of him who promulges it. Go on, my dear
Thompson, and prosper. I regret that I am debarred the pleasure of
sharing your literary labors, and of that interchange of sentiment
which constitutes one of the chief sources of my enjoyment. To our
amiable sister — for such she considers herself with respect to you — I
commit you, confident that your own exertion, aided by her society,
will form you such as your friend will rejoice to behold you. Write
to him frequently I beseech you ; cheer his solitary and miserable ex
istence with the well known characters of friendship. Adieu, my
dear brother." William Thompson to John Randolph.
" Dear Jack, — I am not ceremonious. I feel a conviction that
your silence does not proceed from a want of regard, but from a
cause more important to the world, to yourself, and, if possible, more
distressing to me than the loss of that place in your heart, on which
depends my future prosperity. I had fondly hoped that the change
of scene, and the novelty of business, would have dissipated that me
lancholy which overhung you. To see my friend return happy and
well, was the only wish of my heart
" To the man who is not devoted to unnatural dissipations, a
great city has no charms : it awakens the most painful sensations in
the breast of the philanthropist and patriot. It is disgusting to be
hold such a mass of vice, and all its attendant deformities, cherished
in the bosom of an enlightened country. Prostitutions of body, and
still greater prostitution of mind, excite our pity and hatred. The
political life has not those attractions to the virtuous which it once
had, and which it ought still to have in this country. The spirit of
party has extinguished the spirit of liberty. The enlightened orator
must be shocked at the willing stupidity of his auditors. Our exer
tions are vain and impotent. Every man is the avowed friend of a
party. Converts to reason are not to be found ; whilst converts to
interest are innumerable.
VOL. l 8

170 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
" You know I promised not to visit Eichmond. I have rigidly
adhered to that. I felt a necessity of cooling down. I foreboded
the acquirement of dissipated habits, which would haunt me unceas
ingly. I saw that the patronage of the virtuous would awaken an
emulation in me to attain their perfection. I feel confident that if
my friends bear a little longer with my foibles, they will be corrected.
I look forward with honest pride to the day when I shall merit the
regard — when, by my conduct and by my principles, I shall make
some retribution for the exalted generosity which I have met with
from your family. I am not made of such stern stuff as to resist
singly ; but the idea of friendship will steel my heart .against temp
tation. Since you left me, I have been generally at home, conscious
how little I merit regard. That which I feel for your amiable
family may perhaps appear presumption, yet the thought of losing it
is stinging. * * * To your sister, your most amiable sister, I try to
render myself agreeable. There is a gentleness of manners, an uni
formity of conduct, and a majesty of virtue, which seem to render
admiration presumptuous."
John Randolph to his brother, William Thompson.
" Your letter, my dear Thompson, has communicated to my heart
a satisfaction to which it has not been at all familiar. It has proved
beyond dispute that the energies of your mind, however neglected by
yourself, or relaxed by misfortune, have been suspended, but not im
paired ; and that the strength of your understanding has not been
unequal to the ordeal of misfortune, of which few are . calculated to
bear the test. Proceed, my friend, in the path in which you now
move ; justify those lively hopes which I have never ceased to enter
tain, or to express, of your future attainments : in the words, al
though not in the sense of the poet, let me exhort you, ' carpe diem.'
The past is not in our power to recall: The future we can neither
foresee nor control. The present alone is at our disposal : on the use
to which it is applied, depends the whole of what is estimable or
amiable in human character."
Poor Thompson went to Petersburg about this time (February,
or March, 1800), and got entangled in a way that most young men
of his temper are apt to be. He shall tell the story in his own way
After getting back to Bizarre, in April, he thus writes :

IDOL-WORSHIP. 171
'' You will be surprised, dear brother, when you are informed,
that my stay in Petersburg was protracted by a circumstance against
which you warned me in a letter some time past I allude to Mrs.
B  . Nature has compensated for mental imperfection, by bodily
perfection in that woman. And my attachment to her corroborates
a heresy in love, that desire is a powerful ingredient. Her mind is
not cultivated, her disposition is not calculated to make a man of
my enthusiasm in regard happy. Fully aware of these circum
stances, I cherished her name as dear. Thus situated, let me ask
you a question. Had you been told — nay, had you known that this
woman was the victim of infamous oppression — that these charms
had been wrested from your possession by unfeeling relations (they
were engaged when he went to Europe in 1798), that your name was
dear, her husband's name odious^-that on you she looked with ten
derness, and on him with hatred, what line of conduct would you
adopt 1***1 had resolved to shun her, and in truth did ; but that
fate, which shows refinement in its policy, forced me to an interview.
#***** After several resolutions, some ridiculous (as is usual
in such cases), and one which had near proved fatal, I fled to the
asylum of the distressed (wisely thought of), to the spot where ten
der friendship forms a character exalted to a height, which makes
the feebler of her sex look low indeed, would make me blush at my
folly, and banish the idea of a baneful passion. I will not recapitu
late the wrongs of fortune, but I fondly hope that they will plead in
apology for the failings of your friend."
Now for the answer; and let every young man, and young
woman too, ponder well upon it.
"April 19, 24 year. — To-day I received your letter of the 12th.
It has unravelled a mystery, for whose solution I have before searched
in vain. That you should have been in Petersburg, sighing at the
feet of the fair Mrs. B., is what I did not expect to learn, since I
supposed you all the while in Sussex. I am now not at all surprised
at your silence, during this period of amorous intoxication ; since
nothing so completely unfits a man for intercourse with any other
than the object of his infatuation.
" The answer to your questions is altogether easy. In the first
place, it is not true, because it cannot be true, that this lady was
compelled to the step which she has taken. What force could be

172 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
brought to act upon her, which materials as hard as wax would not
resist? The truth is, if ever she felt an attachment to you, she
sacrificed it to avarice; not because money was the end, but the
means, of gratification ; her vanity, the ruling passion of every mind
as imbecile as her own, delighted in the splendor which wealth alone
could procure. At this time the same passion, which is one of the
vilest modifications of self-love, would gratify itself with a little co
quetry ; and if your prudence has not exceeded that of the lady, it has
gone, I fear, greater lengths than she at first apprehended. Nor
have you, my friend, done this woman a good office, in rendering her
discontented with her lot, by suffering her to persuade herself that
she is in love with you, and that oppression alone has driven her to
a detested union with a detestable brute, for such (on all hands, I be
lieve, it is agreed) is Mr, B. Never did I see a woman apparently
better pleased with her situation. She did not lose one penny
weight of her very comfortable quantity of fiesh ; and, however she
might liave Itesitated between my friend and the cash, minus the
possessor, had you been on the spot to contest your right to her
very fair hand, yet W. T., on the other side of the Atlantic, or
perhaps at the bottom of it, was no rival to the solid worth of her
now cara sposa. Perhaps, in the first instance, she might have dis
Uked the man, for good reasons ; and in the second, for no reason
at all, but because her relations were very anxious for the mateh ;
but be assured her imagination was not sufficiently lively to induce
her to shed one tear on your account.
" You ask me, my friend, what conduct you ought to pursue ;
and you talk of revenge. B. has never injured you ; he has acted
like a fool, I grant, in marrying a woman whose only inducement
to the match, he must be conscious, was his wealth ; but he has com
mitted no crime ; at least he was unconscious of any. That the fel
low should wear antlers, is no great matter of regret, because the os
frontis is certainly substantial enough to bear their weight Yet I
do not wish them to be planted by you, for your sake. ' I will allow
that this lady is as fair as she is/a«— that she is a very inviting ob
ject ; yet why should you prevent her leading a life of as much hap
piness as she is susceptible of — fruges consumere, &c. Has not her
conduct in relation to you and to her husband been such as renders
her unworthy of any man of worth ? Has he not conferred on you a

IDOL-WORSHIP. 173
benefit, by preventing the possibility of an alliance with a woman ca
pable of carrying on a correspondence with any other than her hus
band ; and can you, who enjoy the society of that pattern of female
virtue, feel for this woman any sentiment but contempt ? ...
So far from injuring you, B. is the injured person, if at all. His im
penetrable stupidity has alone shielded him from sensations not the
most enviable, I imagine. Do not suppose from my style that I am
unfeeling, or have too low an estimate of the sex ; on the contrary, I
am the warmest of their admirers. But silly and depraved women,
and stupid, unprincipled men, are both objects of my pity and con
tempt. I wish you to form a just estimate of what is valuable ia
female character — then seek out a proper object and marry. Intrigue
will blast your reputation, and, what is more to the purpose, your
peace of mind ; it will be a stumbling-block to you through life. An
acquaintance with loose women has incapacitated you from forming a
proper estimate of female worth  ...
I must congratulate you on your escape, and on your resolution to
behold no more the fascinating object which has caused you so
much uneasiness. I shall shortly have the pleasure of embracing
you. " P. S. My servant (Johnny?) has been packing up some effects,
which I am about sending to Petersburg by water, and at every
three words I have had a query to solve. This will account for my
incoherence. " P. S. (Characteristic, two postscripts.) I have been so hurried,
as perhaps to betray myself into an inaccuracy of expression. But
let me suggest two ideas to you. Has not your conduct been such
as to injure a woman for whom you have felt and professed a re-
gg,rd ? is it a liberal or disinterested passion (passion is never liberal
or disinterested), which risks the reputation of the beloved object?
Has not her conduct in admitting your attentions rendered her un
worthy of any man but her present possessor ? View this matter in
its proper light and you will never think more of her. . . . Suc
cess attend your study of law."
About the middle of May, Essex was dispatched with Jacobin
and other horses, to meet his young master at the Boiling-green. He
took along with him the following letter from William Thompson :
" What are my emotions, dearest brother, at seeing your horse

174 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH,
thus far on his way to return you among us ! How eagerly do 1
await the appointed day ! Eyland (Eandolph) has returned (some
unsuccessful adventure), and another of the children of misfortune
will seek refuge and consolation under this hospitable roof He
has promised me by letter to be with us in a day or two, — what plea
sure do I anticipate in the society of our incomparable sister, in
yours, in Eyland's I I wish I had the vanity to suppose I was
worthy of it.
" We have been visited by the young ladies of Liberty Neck, and
by its mentor. Major Scott, I had rather have his wisdom than New
ton's or Locke's ; for depend on it, he has dipped deep in the science
of mind. According to the laws of gallantry, I should have escorted
them to Amelia ; but I am not fitted for society, and the continued
round of company in the Neck is painful instead of pleasing,
" Our sister is now asleep ; she would have written but for her
being busy in finishing the children's clothes, and being obliged to
write to Mrs. Harrison, When I came in last evening, I found her
in the passage, a candle on the chair, sewing, I coUld hardly help
exclaiming, what a pattern for her sex. The boys are well ; they
have both grown — the Saint particularly, whose activity will astonish
you. Every body is cheerful — your arrival in anticipation is the
cause. Farewell, dearest brother — ^hasten to join us.
" W. Thompson.
" Take care how you ride Jacobin, and if not for your own, at
least for our sakes, run no risks by putting him in a carriage — ^we
all dread the attempt."
He returned safely, to the joy of more people (ladies too?) than
those at Bizarre, This delightful society was now complete ; books,
high discourse on philosophy, morals, government, the destiny of
man — intermingled with the charming conversation and the music
of elegant and accomplished women — exercise on the high-mettled
steed, and frequent visits and dining parties at neighbors' houses,
whose warm reception, bountiful hospitality, and unostentatious re
finement of manner (universal with the gentlemen of the olden time),
made the guest perfectly at home, and at ease in heart and in be
havior. Such was the Old Dominion, half a-oentury ago, such is sh«
now in some degree ; but, alas ! the difference I

IDOL-WORSHIP. 176
But poor Thompson, the hapless child of misfortune, was not
long permitted to enjoy the sweets of this paradise. Some wicked
and envious Mephistophiles looked, in with his jealous eyes on the
happy beings that composed it ; and sought to blast it with his ma
licious tongue. It was rumored that Thompson staid at Bizarre
for a selfish purpose ; that, besides the conveniehce of the thing in
his condition, his object was to win the affection of its fair mistress
What if it were true ? But this base world will allow nothing but
a base motive for the most generous action. The insinuation was
enough for the high-minded Thompson. He immediately left Bi
zarre, and wrote the foUowing letter : — " The letter which I have
transmitted by the same opportunity to that most amiable of women
our sister, communicates intelligence of a report, the effects of which
on my mind you will be fully aware of, from a former conversation
on the subject. Would you suppose, my dearest brother, that the
world would have dared to insinuate, that my object in remaining at
Bizarre is to solicit the affections of our friend ! Time, and the ap
prehension that I shall be intruded on, compel me to conciseness.
My abode will be Eyland's until I receive letters from you both.
View the subject with impartiality — enter into my feelings, for you
know my heart — tell me with candor whether I am not bound to
leave the abode of innocence and friendship ? Tell me whether re
fined friendship does not demand on my part a sacrifice of every
prospect of happiness, to the amiable, to the benevolent and virtuous
woman who is wronged from her generous sympathy to tjie hapless."
A most delicate task this imposed on a friend — particularly one
holding the relation of Mr. Randolph to the lady in question. But
see how nobly, how manfully he discharged the duty : " For the first
time I perceive myself embarrassed how to comply with the requisition
of friendship. But yesterday, and I should have been unable to com
prehend the speculative possibility of that which to-day is reduced to
practice. If I decline the task which you have allotted me, it is
not because I am disposed to shrink from the sacred obligations
which I owe to you. My silence is not the effect of unfeeling indif
ference, of timid indecision, or cautious reserve. It is the result of
the firmest conviction that it is not for me to advise you in the present
crisis. It is a task to which I am indeed unequal. Consult your
own heart, it is alone capable of advising you. The truly fraternal

176 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
regard which you feel for our most amiable sister, does not require
to be admonished of the respect which is due to her feelings. You
alone are a competent judge of that conduct which is best calculated not
to wound her delicacy ; and it is that alone which you are capable of
pursuing. Whatever may be your determination, you will not be
the less dear to me. That spirit of impertinent malice, which man
kind seem determined to cherish at the expense of all that should
constitute their enjoyment, may, indeed, intrude upon our arrange
ments and deprive me of your society ; but it can never rob me of the
pure attachment which I have conceived for you, and which can
never cease to animate me. I hold this portion of good, at least, in
contempt of an unfeeling and calumnious world — ^invulnerable to
every shaft, it derides their impotent malice.
" Let me suggest to you to pursue that line of conduct which you
shall be disposed to adopt, as if it were the result of your previous
determination. Prosecute, therefore, your intended journey, and do
not permit malicious curiosity to enjoy the wretched satisfaction of
supposing that it has the power of influencing your actions.
" I have,perceived, with extreme pleasure, that your mind has for
some time been rapidly regaining its pristine energy. Keep it,
therefore, I beseech you, my friend, in constant exercise. Get up
some ohject of pursuit. Make to yourself an image, and, in defiance
of the decalogue, worship it Whether it be excellence in medicine or
law, or political eminence, determine not to relax your endeavors
until you have attained it. You must not suffer your mind, whose
activity must be employed, to prey upon itself. The greatest bless
ing which falls to the lot of man is thus converted into the deadliest
curse. I need not admonish you to keep up the intercourse which
subsists between us, and which nothing shall compel me to relin
quish. " I trust that I shall hear from you in the space of a week at
farthest. Meanwhile rest assured of the undiminished affection of
the firmest of your friends,''
Poor Thompson ! why oould he not follow the advice so delicately
given — pursue the line of conduct he had previously determined on —
which was, doubtless, to stay at Bizarre — prosecute his journey, and
then come back, without regard to the malicious surmises of a wicked
world ? He did not sacrifice his happiness to that amiable, benevo-

LOVE MATTERS. 177
lent and virtuous woman, as he supposed ; she did not need it or
require it — but to malicious curiosity. He had not strength of
mind to resist the vague impression of the world's censure ; and
suffered the spirit of impertinent malice to enjoy the wretched satis
faction of supposing that it had the power of infiuencing his actions.
He never came back to Bizarre as a home again — soon fell into
his old habits — wandered over Canada a-foot, seeking rest but
finding none — a wandering spirit that rapidly glided into irregular
courses ; the world, erewhile so bright and smooth, had suddenly
become dark and slippery to him ; ne'er again could he find rest for
the sole of his foot; — turned out from that paradise, a world of
turbid waters was all his wearied eye could light upon. What fur
ther befell him shall be made known to the reader in the sequel.

CHAPTEE XXV.
THE COUESE OF TEUE LOVE NEVEE DID AtJS SMOOTH.
The reader is already aware that John Randolph wiifi the centre
of a very extensive correspondence with some of the first young men
of the country — among others, Joseph Bryan, of Georgia. In the
month of January, last winter (1800), Bryan informed him that he
was about to embark soon for England, and wished his friend to pro
cure certificates of citizenship for himself and companion from Mr.
Jefferson ; and promised in his next to give the reason for quitting
his native country — which accordingly he did in the following words :
" I have in that time, my friend (since this time twelve months), been
on the verge of becoming a member of the fraternity of Benedicts, as
you humorously style married men. In short, I paid my addresses to
an accomplished young woman, of both family and fortune, in Caro
lina — quarrelled with my father and mother because I would not re
linquish the pursuit — ^followed her with every prospect of the de
sired success for eighteen months — ^went to her abode last Christ
mas, with the comfortable idea of marrying her on the commence
ment of the new year — and was discarded by her parents because
VOL. I. 8*

178 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
mine would not consent to the match: There were one or two othei
trifling objections, such as — I was a  , a man of no religion — ¦
a Georgian ; and would take their child where they might never see
her face again, &c. All this you may think apocryphal — 'tis true,
upon my word. Yet ' my heart does not bleed at every pore from
the bitterest of recollections ;' to be sure I was in a hell of a taking
for two or three days. But I found that keeping myself employed,
made it wear off to a miracle. So much for my love affairs. You
may perhaps be a little surprised at my going to England ; 'twas a
sudden resolution, I must confess ; I'll tell you how it happened.
While I was laboring under the horrors of my dismission, I swore
to my little grisette, in order to melt her, that if she would not quit
father and mother and run away with me, I would go off immedi
ately and fight the Russians ! She would not do that, so I am
obliged by a point of honor to make the attempt, at least
" If, after my arrival in England, I can conveniently get to
France, I shall go there ; if not, I shall spend the money I carry
with me, and come home again.
" I don't know whether 'twill be proper to apply to Mr. Jeffer
son for the certificate I wrote to you for — my reasons were these :
I knew that he was better known and better' liked in France than
any distinguished person in our country, therefore, a certificate
from him would do me more service than from any other ; besides, I
don't like any of the Adamites well enough to receive a favor of
that kind from their hands.
" I expect to sail from Savannah about the 20th instant (Febru
ary, 1800) ; as soon as I arrive you will hear from me. One of my
principal reasons for going to Europe, is to improve my health,
which is very indifferent at this time."
So then it was your own pleasure and convenience at last, and
not the sting of disappointed love, that drove you away to France I
The girls are very much deceived when they flatter themselves that
men generally will do rash things for their sweet sakes ; they may
be in a hdl of a taking for a time, but the fever soon wears off.
Men are no better treated. This girl, in his absence, while he was
fighting for liberty under the banners of France, did the very thing
she refused to do with him — ran away and got married against the
will of her parents.

LOVE MATTERS. I79
But the answer to the first letter, and in anticipation of the one
above : " Your letter of the 7th of last month was this moment put
into my hands. Need I say that it distresses me beyond measure ?
Ah, my friend, it is then too true ! My suspicions were but too well
grounded ! The eagle-eye of friendship finds no difficulty in pierc
ing the veil which shrouds you ; which, until now, I did not dare to
lift. You have related nothing, yet I know every thing. This omis
sion, for which you promise to atone in another letter, is but too well
supplied by conjectures which cannot, I fear, deceive me.
" Bryan, my friend, you are about to render yovirself, me, all
who are interested in your happiness, wretched, perhaps, for ever.
These are more numerous than you are at present willing to allow.
At one stroke you are about to sever all those ties which bind you
to the soil which gave you birth, to the tender connections of your
childhood, to the most constant of friends — ^relations which give to
existence its only value. Your sickly taste loathes that domestic
happiness which is yet in store for you — perhaps you deny that it
can have, for yourself, any existence ; you prefer to it, trash of for
eign growth. You seek in vain, my friend, to fiy from misery. It
will accompany you — it will rankle in that heart in whose cruel
wounds it rejoices to dwell. It is of no country, but yourself and
time alone can soothe its rage,
" Among the dangers you are about to encounter, I will not enu
merate those of a personal nature ; not because they are in them
selves contemptible, however they may be despised by yourself, but
because in comparison to the gigantic mischiefs which you are about
to court, they are indeed insignificant. I mean in respect to your
self — to your friends they are but too formidable. Eecall then, I
beseech you, your rash determination — pause, at least, upon the rash
step which you meditate ! It is, however, the privilege of friend
ship only to advise. The certificates which you require, I will en
deavor to procure time enough to accompany this letter. This is
Saturday, and after the hour of doing business at the offices ; and to
be valid they must issue from that of the Secretary of State. Be
not impatient, they shall be forwarded by Tuesday's mail, in any
event ; letters from Jeff'erson to some of his European friends shall
follow them."
Thus we find this young man, not yet twenty-seven years of age.

180 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
the grave Mentor to his young friends. They confide to his friend
ship, constant and pure, all their cares and troubles, and confidently
expect in return his sympathy, his advice, and the practical les
sons of a sage wisdom. But was he without care? Had he no
troubles of his own to perplex his bosom ? Had this young Men
tor so soon fought the battle of life, and gained the victory? Was
his heart serene and lifted above the storm of passion that raged
around him ? /, too, am wretched ! " To 'ihe procuring and trans
mitting," continues he, " of these certificates of birth and citizenship,
I annex a condition of which.I will not brook the refusal — a compli
ance is due to that attachment which has so long subsisted between
us ; it is an exertion certainly not too great to je yielded to a friend
ship, whose constancy has been rarely equalled, but never surpassed.
Listen, therefore :
" I, too, am wretched ; misery is not your exclusive charter, I
have for some months meditated a temporary relinquishment of my
country. The execution of this scheme has no connection with
yours. The motives which produced it originated in events which
happened before I took my seat in Congress, although I was then
ignorant of their existence ; they were, indeed, prior to my election to
an office, of which nothing but a high sense of the obligations of pub
lic duty has prevented the resignation. A second election could not,
in that event, have been practicable, until the present session was
somewhat advanced. I determined, therefore, not to relinquish my
seat until its expiration; then to resign it, and bid adieu to my
native shores for a few years, at least. In this determination I still
remain. If, therefore, you refuse to rescind your hasty resolution^
I desire permission to be the companion of your voyage — to partake
your sorrows and to share with you my own — to be the friend of him
who is to accompany you, because he is yours. Yet, believe me, Joe,
and it is unnecessary to declare by what motives I am influenced to
the assei-tion, that I shall be glad to hear that I am to prosecute my
voyage alone — ^to be informed that you have receded from a project
which has not, like my own, been the fruit of deliberate resolve. I
had, indeed, hoped that the relation of your own domestic enjoyment
would have beguiled many a sad hour of my life. But, pardon me,
my dear fellow, I see my indiscretion. It shall not be repeated.
If, then, you persist in carrying into execution your plan, take a

LOVE MATTERS, 181
passage with your friend for New- York, or the Delaware, it is open ;
meet me here about the middle of March — we rise in April — there is
a resolution laid upon our table to adjourn on the first of the month;
it will certainly be carried ; they even talk of substituting ' March.'
We will then embark together for any part of tbe other continent
that you may prefer ; I am indifferent about places. But if I go alone,
I shall take shipping for some English port, London or Liverpool. I
wish I could join you in Savannah ; but it would be extremely incon
venient, I fear the climate ; a passage would be more ut certain +00
from thence, and the accommodations perhaps not so good. Yet I will
even meet you there, or in Charleston, in case you are resolved to
leave America, if I can have your company on no other terms.
Write immediately and solve this business. I repeat, that it will be
very inconvenient to take my passage from a southern port ; it will
likewise occasion delay. I shall have a voyage to make thither, and
then to wait the sailing of a vessel ; whereas, if you meet me here, I
can fix myself for any ship bound to Europe about the time of the
rising of Congress ; and in the great ports of New- York, Philadel
phia, or B-altimore, we cannot fail to procure a speedy embarkation,
and agreeable berths. Again I entreat you to write to me immediately
upon the receipt of this : in expectation of the answer, I shall remain
under no common anxiety until its arrival. Meantime, remember,
my friend, that there is one person, at least, and he an unshaken
friend, who is not insensible to your worth. Farewell, dear Joseph.
" P. S, I had like to have omitted enjoining you to preserve invio
lable secrecy with respect to my designs. The reason I will detail
to you at meeting. It is unnecessary to say that they are not such
as I should be ashamed to avow ; yet I do not wish it to be known
that I am about to leave the country until a week or ten days before
my departure. Adieu !"
Bryan did not receive this letter before his embarkation. Had
it come to hand in time, there can be no question that he would have
gladly accepted the offer of his friend, and gone to Philadelphia and
awaited the adjournment of Congress, that they might have the plea
sure of a voyage together.
But it is certain Eandolph did not go abroad at that time. Had
his friend arrived in Philadelphia, in obedience to his wishes, he
would unquestionably have strained a point, and, at all hazards, ful-

182 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH,
filled an engagement h'. jad so solemnly made. In that case, tho
events of history would have been changed. But he did not go ; the
reason why is unknown to us. It may have been pecuniary embarrass
ment. He was paying large instalments of the British debt about that
time to Mr Wickham, In 1824, writing to a friend from Paris, he says :
" Here, then, am I, where I ought to have been thirty years ago, and
where I would have been, had I not been plundered and oppressed."
But he did not escape from his sorrows at that time by flying
across the sea. He staid at home to brood over them, /, too, am
wretched. " My character" (says he in a letter to a friend about this time
August, 1800), "like many other sublunary things, hath lately un-
derg.jne an almost total revolution.'' It seems that he had some spe
cial sorrow that weighed upon his heart, the cause of which originated
before his election in April, 1799, but was unknown to him for some
months afterwards. That it was of the same nature with that which
drove one friend across the Atlantic and the other to Canada — that
it was the malady of love which brought him into trouble, and that
oppressed his soul, cannot be questioned.
Soon after he took his seat in Congress Thompson wrote to him;
detailing the circumstances of a report which had been fabricated
and secretly circulated to his injury, tracing it to its source, and
proving it to be an idle tale without foundation, and confined to the
knowledge of a few only. He then continues : " Eepose on thy'
pillow and heed not the shafts that are thrown against you. The
world has not injured me, and it has not despised you. Mrs.i
M. assured me that in your honor she placed the most implicit
confidence. When you communicate with M  a, as probably
you have already done, she will declare herself unaffected by this
tale, which has disturbed your peace. I have spoken with candor,
but I have spoken with truth. Demand the author, and if he be
given up, you will find it a child. The time of telling it, the month'
of August " Alas, my brother, what are not you destined to suffer ! What
tremendous trials of fortitude have you not undergone ! In the
enthusiasm of friendship I look forward to your happiness, anc"
each day brings to life some new pang which is unfeelingly in
flicted. Let not this affair make too deep an impression on your

LOVE MATTERS.

183

mind — command my services if they be required ; for be assured
that the mind which personifles irregularity and want of system
in the affairs of the world, is nerved to act with dauntless energy
in the cause of my brother. Prudence, caution, all the requisites
of successful friendship, are at the command of him, who in the
walk of life is eccentric and unsteady."
About the time of the correspondence with Bryan, and his
determination to go abroad, Thompson again writes : — " I have
mingled with society ; I have purposely spoken of you and Miss
W  d to ascertain precisely the public opinion ; and I can
repeat with joy, that my brother has not been wronged ty the
world. As to the idle suggestions of babHing men and women,
shall they be heaped together and transformed into most serious
charges, that even your confidence of yourself may be shaken if
possible, and thus your peace of mind be for ever blasted ? Enough
on this subject. I have violated my common rule of conduct by
being aggressor on the topic.''
On another occasion he says : — " In our lives, my brother, we
have seen two fine women (Mrs. Judith Eandolph and Miss M  a
W — d) ; never extend your list ; never trust your eyes, or your ears,
for they staiid alone." And in his voluntary banishment from the
asylum of the wretched and unfortunate, when he deeply felt his
bereavement and forlorn condition, he thus writes : " M  a, the ami
able, the good M  a, has honored me with a short letter ; suoh
tokens of esteem, such evidences of generous pity, for a man cast on
the wide world unfriended and unprotected, create a gratitude not
to be expressed. It is not until we are humiliated by misfortune that
we feel these things, for in the height of worldly prosperity the wish
and the pursuit go hand in hand, and successive gratifications blunt
the sensibilities of our nature. Whilst we rejoice in a mortality as
the termination of lives mutually painful, in which we have been
called on to exercise a fortitude sufficient to overwhelm minds less
noble and less firm, in which every fair prospect has been blighted,
every brilliant expectation thwarted, and every tender emotion hate
fully disappointed, let us linger out a remnant which cannot be long,
mutually cherishing and supporting each other on the tedious road.
My dear friend, let us not leave each other behind ; for, alas ! how
sterile and how barren would creation then be ! United, we are

184 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Strong, but unsupported we could not stand against the increasing
pressure of misfortune. Often do I exclaim, Would that you and 1
were cast on some desert island, there to live out the remainder of
our days unpolluted by the communication with man. Separated
from each other, our lips are sealed, for the expression of sentiments
which exult and ennoble humanity. Even in the support of virtue,
the cautious language of vice must be adopted ; even in the defence
of truth we must descend to the artifice of error."
Here, reader, we let drop the curtain. Its thick folds of haif a
century are impervious to the light of mortal syes ; ask not a loojc
beyond the mysterious veil. There are secrets we trust not to a
friend, that we betray not to ourselves, and which none but the im
pious curiosity of a heartless world would ever dare to penetrate.
Let the gross impulses, the base considerations of worldly gain, that
constitute the ground and the motive of most human associations,
suffice as fit subjects for your cold observation, your ridicule and con
tempt ; but hold sacred, or look with awe, on that deep self-sacrificing
passion, which, springing from the soul of man, is all-embracing in
its love, fathomless, infinite, and divine. Enough to know, that in
the bosom of this man there glowed the fires of such a love, that con
tinued to burn through life, and were only extinguished amid the
crumbling ruins of the altar by the damp dews that gathered over
them in the dark valley and the shadow of death. He hath said :
" One I loved better than my own soul, or him that created it"
" My apathy is not natural, but superinduced. There was a volcano
under my ice, but it is burnt out, and a face of desolation has come
on, not to be rectified in ages, could my life be prolonged to a patri
archal longevity. The necessity of loving and being beloved was
never felt by the imaginary beings of Eeusseau and Byron's cre
ation more imperiously than by myself My heart was offered up
with a devotion that knew no reserve. Long an object of proscrip
tion and treachery, I have at last (more mortifying to the pride of
man) become one of utter indifference.''
To you, reader, he is far from being an object of indifference, and
we trust that before the end of these Volumes he will be drawn to
your heart by the cords of affection, and that his memory will ever
hereafter awaken in yDur bosom those noblest emotions of sympathy
and veneration.

PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. 185

CHAPTEE XXVI,
PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION, 1800-1 — MIDNIGHT JUDGES,
The reader is already aware of the intense political excitement
raging through the country at this t;-ne. The civil wars, and violent
upturning of the whole social system in Europe, spread the contagion
of their influence across the Atlantic. The efforts of the belligerent
powers to draw the United States into the war, and the anxiety of
leading politicians here at home to cast on their political adversaries
the odium of their foreign associations — Anglo-mania and Gallo-ma-
nia — threw into the contest a bitterness and violence little short of
actual civil commotion. The excited political campaign in the spring
of 1799, was but a prelude to the more violent presidential election
that was to take place in the autumn of 1800. The fate of the Ee
public depended on that election. Had the federalists succeeded,
there can be no doubt that a degradation of the States and a concen
tration of all power in a splendid central empire, would have been
the final result. Happily for the cause of human freedom, the elec
tion terminated in the triumph of the republican cause.
Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr being the candidates of the
republicans, got seventy-three votes, John Adams sixty-five votes,
Charles Cotesworth Pinckney sixty-four votes, and John Jay one
vote. But a difficulty grew out of this result that could not have
been anticipated. The Constitution, by an amendment made in con
sequence of this difficulty, now requires the electors to designate the
person they vote for as president, and the person they vote for as
vice-president ; but at that time there was no means of discrimina
tion ; they voted for two persons, and the one getting the highest
number of votes was declared to be elected president, and the person
getting the next highest number of votes was declared to be elected
vice-president. Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Burr had an equal number
of votes ; neither of them could be declared as being elected presi
dent ; and the question had to be decided by the House of Eepre
sentatives voting by States. So soon as this state of things was
known, a high degree of uneasiness and alarm was excited in the

186 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
minds of the republicans, lest the will of the people might be frus
trated by intrigue and corruption, Mr, Jefferson charged the fed
eralists with a design of preventing an election altogether. In a
letter to Mr. Madison he says : " The federalists appear determined
to prevent an election, and to pass a bill giving the government to
Mr. Jay, reappointed chief justice, or to Marshall, as secretary of
state," This would have been an act of revolution ; and some of the
more violent and unprincipled may have carried their designs thus
far ; but there can be no question that the aim of the party was to
defeat Mr. Jefferson and to elect Burr. This was carrying their op
position to the will of the people very far. Aaron Burr never was
thought of for president ; not a single vote was cast for him with
that view, and the mere accident of his having the same number of
votes with the favorite of the people, brought his name into the
House of Representatives; and yet the federalists determined to
take advantage of this circumstance, and to elevate him to the pres-'
idenoy, in spite of the popular will. They justified themselves on
the ground that the public will could only be expressed to them
through the constitutional organs. There were two candidates, theyi
said, for the office of president, who were presented to the House of
Representatives with equal suffrages. The Constitution gave them
the right, and made it their duty, to elect that one of the two whom
they thought preferable. Neither of them was the man of their
choice, but the Constitution confined their election to one of the two,
and they gave their vote to the one they thought the greater and
the better man. That vote they repeated, and in that vote they de
clared their determination to persist, had they not been driven from!
it by imperious necessity. The prospect ceased of the vote beingi
effectual, and the alternative only remained of taking one man for
president, or having no president at all. They chose, as they thought
the lesser evil. The republicans, on the other hand, condemned!
their course as factious and revolutionary ; and, had they succeeded
in electing Burr to the presidency, in all probability he would have.
been driven from his seat at the point of the bayonet. From all
quarters the sound came up, " We will obey no other president but
Mr. Jefferson." There are many interesting facts and important!
lessons connected with this election that come within the province of
the general historian, but which we must pass over as inappropriate

PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. 187
to this Biography. The part that John Randolph took in these af
fairs was that of a silent voter and watchful observer. He dispatched
daily bulletins to his father-in-law, giving the result of each balloting
as it took place. After the nineteenth ballot he writes : " No elec
tion will, in my opinion, take place." But on the 17th of February
he writes : " On the thirty-sixth ballot there appeared, this day, ten
States for Thomas Jefferson ; four (New England) for A. Burr, and
two blank ballots (Delaware and South Carolina). This was the
second time that we balloted to-day. The four Burrites of Mary
land put blanks into the box of that State ; the vote was, therefore^
unanimous. Mr. Morris, of Vermont, left his seat, and the result
was, therefore, Jeffersonian. I need not add that Mr. J. '(vas de
clared duly elected."
Mr. Randolph attributed this result to the patriotism of Alexan
der Hamilton. That gentleman was the influential and popular
leader of the federal party, and when he saw the extremity to which
things were likely to be driven by a longer persistence in their course,
he advised his friends, rather than to produce a revolution in the
government, or excite popular commotion, to give way and suffer Mr.
Jefferson to be elected. Mr. Randolph often expressed the opinion,
in after life, that we owed the safety of the Republic to Hamilton,
and that his course on that trying occasion had elevated him very
much in his estimation.
The federalists perpetrated another act during the session that
excited a great deal of indignation. They so altered and enlarged
the judiciary system as to require the appointment of a great many
new judges. It was urged as an objection to the bill, that it
was made by a party at the moment when they were sensible that
their power was expiring and passing into other hands. They re
plied it was enough for them that the full and legitimate power ex
isted. The remnant left them (the bill passed 15th February, 1801)
was plenary and efficient — and it was their duty to employ it accord
ing to their judgments and consciences for the good of the country.
They thought the bill a salutary measure, and there was no obligation
upon them to leave it as a work for their successors. They had no hesi
tation in avowing that they had no confidence in the persons who were
to follow them, and were, therefore, the more anxious to accomplish
a work which they believed would contribute to the safety and sta-

[88 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
bility of the government It was further urged as an objection to
the bill, that it was merely designed to create sinecures and retreats
for broken-down political hacks — and to erect battlements and for
tresses in which the discomfited leaders of federalism might rally
their scattered forces for another contest Mr. Jefferson said of this
measure, " I dread this above all the measures meditated, because
appointments in the nature of freehold render it difficult to undo
what is done," Yet the next Congress did not hesitate to undo what
was done. The first regular speech made by Mr. Eandolph was on
the proposition to repeal this law. It was in answer to Mr. Bayard,
the leader and the ablest champion on the opposite side. This speech
was published, many years ago, in a collection intended to be speci
mens of American eloquence ; and notwithstanding he was so
young a man, it will bear a comparison, in point of style and argu
ment, with the very best that were delivered at that day. In justi
fying a repeal of the law, and thereby displacing judges, who by the
Constitution hold their appointments during good behavior, Mr. Ran-
ddlph argued — " I agree that the Constitution is a limited grant of
power, aud that none of its general phrases are to be construed into
an extension of that grant. I am free to declare, that if the extent
of this bill is to get rid of the judges, it is a perversion of your power
to a base purpose ; it is an unconstitutional act. If, on the contrary,
it aims not at the displacing one set of men from whom you differ in
political opinion, with a view to introduce others, but for the general
good, by abolishing useless offices, it is a constitutional act. The
quo animo determines the nature of this act, as it determines the in
nocence or guilt of other acts. But we are told that this is to de
clare the judiciary, which the Constitution has attempted to fortify
against the other branches of government, dependent on the will of
the legislature, whose discretion alone is to limit their encroachments.
Whilst I contend that the legislature possesses this discretion, I am
sensible of the delicacy with which it is to be used. It is like the
power of impeachment, or the declaring of war, to be exercised un
der a high responsibility. But the power is denied — for, say they,
its exorcise will enable flagitious men to overturn the judiciary, in
order to put their creatures into office, and to wreak their vengeance
on those who have become obnoxious by their merit ; and yet the
gentleman expressly says, that arguments drawn from a supposition

PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. IgQ
of extreme political depravity prove nothing ; that every government
presupposes a certain degree of honesty in its rulers, and that to
argue from extreme cases is totally inadmissible. Nevertheless, the
whole of his argument is founded on the supposition of a total want
of principle in the legislature and executive."
While speaking on the subject of the judiciary in the Virginia
Convention, nearly thirty years after this transaction, Mr. Randolph
thus alludes to it : " At the very commencement of my public life,
or nearly so, I was called to give a decision on the construction of
that clause in the Federal Constitution which relates w the tenure
of the judicial office ; and I am happy to flnd that, after the lapse of
thirty years, I remain precisely of the same opinion that I then held."
If a law should be passed bona fide, for the abolition of a court
which was a nuisance, and ought to be abolished, he considered such
a law as no infringement of judicial independence ; but, if the law
was enacted mala fide, and abolished a useful court, for the purpose
of getting rid of the judge who presided in it, such a law was undoubt
edly a violation of that independence ; just as the killing of a man
might be murder or not, according to the intention, the quo animo
with which it was done. He said that it could not be necessary to
recount to the gentleman who occupied the chair (Mr. Barbour) the
history of the decision which was given in Congress, as to the true
intent and meaning of this part of the Federal Constitution. Par
ties had never run higher than at the close of the administration of
the elder Adams, and the commencement of that of Mr. Jefferson.
After efforts the most unparalleled, Mr. Adams was ejected from
power, and the downfall of the party attached to him was near at
hand. After this decision by the American people, when they were
compelled to perceive that the kingdom was passing from them, in
the last agonies and throes of dissolution, they cast about them to
make some provision for the broken-down hacks of the party ; and at
midnight, and after midnight, on the last day of Mr. Adams's ad
ministration, a batch of judges was created, and bequeathed as a
legacy to those who followed. .
The succeeding party on coming into power, found that they must
consult the construction of the Constitution, to prevent the recur
rence of such a practice ; because, if the construction should be al
lowed under which this had been done, it would enable every politi-

190 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
cal party, having three months notice of their departure from the
helm of affairs, to provide for themselves and their adherents, by get/-
ting up a judiciary system, which would be irrevocable ; a city of re
fuge where they would be safe from all approach of danger. To
avoid such a result it became necessary to abolish the system, which
was then believed to be injurious, and which experience has proved
to be unnecessary. Mr. Randolph said, that he was one of those
who voted for the decision which declared that the court might bo
abolished bona fide, and that the office of the judge should cease
with it.
Shortly after these midnight appointments, Mr. Adams left ,,he
city, under the cover of darkness, that he might not witness, the next
day, the inauguration of his successful rival. Many of his friends
were deeply mortified at this undignified and unmanly retreat
On reaching an inn beyond Baltimore, 'tis said (we speak on the
authority of Mr. Randolph) that Mr. Adams, walking up to a por
trait of Washington, and placing his finger on his lips, exclaimed, " If
I had kept my lips as close as that man, I should now be the Presi
dent of the United States.''
It is very true, Mr. Adams had no judgment, no discretion. He
possessed a brilliant imagination, a bold and an ardent temper,
that made him the impassioned and powerful orator of the Revolu
tion ; but he could lay claim to few of those faculties that fit a man
to conduct wisely and prudently the affairs of a great republic.

CHAPTEE XXVII,
THE SEVENTH AND EIGHTH CONGRESSES, — CHAIEMAN OF THE
COMMITTEE OF WAYS AND MEANS, — THE WORKING PE-
EIOD. — THE YAZOO BUSINESS.
At the opening of the first Congress under the new administration,
in December, 1801, Mr, Randolph had the satisfaction of seeing his
friend, Nathaniel Macon, elected Speaker of the House of Represen
tatives, Mr. Randolph was placed at the head of the Committee ol

SEVENTH AND EIGHTH CONGRESSES. 191
Ways and Means, Some notion may be formed of the duties of this
committee from the resolution calling for its appointment,
" Resolved, That a Standing Committee of Ways and Means be ap
pointed, whose duty it shall be to take into consideration all such reports
of the Treasury Department, and all such propositions relative to the
revenue, as may be referred to them by the House ; to inquire into
the state of the public debt, of the revenue, and of the expenditures ;
and to report, from time to time, their opinion thereon."
The duties of this committee, as we may perceive, embraced a
wide field of inquiry. The new administration had pledged itself to
fhe people to place the " ship of state on its republican tack," and to
furnish a model of a simple and economical government. All unne
cessary offices and useless expenditures were to be abolished, the
army and navy reduced, and the national debt was to be redeemed. All
the necessary inquiries, investigations, reports, and bills, touching
these important subjects, had to emanate from the Committee of
Ways and Means. The chairman of that committee had to be
brought in daily official communication with the executive depart
ments ; his relation towards them was of a most confidential charac
ter ; and he was regarded as the leader of the friends of the admin
istration in the representative department.
Mr. Randolph and the President were intimate friends; they
were on terms of unreserved intercourse — personally and politically
they cordially agreed, and heartily co-operated in accomplishing the
great ends of the administration. In accordance with the recommen
dation of the President, Mr. Randolph introduced a proposition,
" that a committee be appointed to inquire whether any, and what
alterations can be made in the judiciary department of the United
States, and to provide for securing the impartial selection of juries
in the courts of the United States ;" and also another resolution, to
inquire what reductions could be made in the civil government of the
United States. They were referred to a select committee, of which
he was chairman. On the 4th of February, he reported a bill to re
peal the laws of the last session with respect to the judiciary, and
after undergoing considerable discussion in committee of the whole,
it was finally passed by the House on the 3d March, 1802, by a large
majority. Mr, Randolph's speech on this subject we have already
alluded to in the preceding chapter. On the 20th January he in-

192 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
troduced a resolution, directing the Secretary of the Treasury to lay
before the House a list of the exports to the Mediterranean, distin
guishing those of the growth of the United States, He also took
part in the debate on the apportionment under the census of 1800.
Mr. Randolph took a lively interest in this subject, and long foresaw
the effect each succeeding census would have on the political power
of his native State. He introduced on the 9th of June, a resolution
to reduce the military establishment. Having been appointed chair
man of the select committee to see what could be done to expedite
the public printing, he reported a resolution to appoint a public
printer ; and to his exertions may be justly attributed an economical
improvement in the printing of the House.
But one of the most important subjects to which Mr. Randolph
turned his attention was the public debt On the 9th of April, 1802,
he reported a bill making provision for the redemption of the public
debt of the United States. It provided that so much of the duties
on merchandise and tonnage, &c., as will amount to an annual sum
of seven millions three hundred thousand dollars, be yearly appro
priated as a sinking fund ; and said sums were declared to be vested
in Commissioners of the Sinking Fund, to be applied by them to the
payment of interest and charges, and to the redemption of the prin
cipal of the public debt. After this appropriation he kept a watch
ful eye on its faithful disbursement. The subject was frequently
before the Committee of Ways and Means, and the conduct and
management of the commissioners minutely criticised.
The chief subject that attracted the attention of Congress during
the next session, which began in December, 1802, was the navigation
of the Mississippi and the cession of Louisiana to France. In the
preceding October, the Governor of New Orleans, Don Morales, had
issued a proclamation, excluding that port as a dep6t for our com
merce, a privilege we had a right to enjoy under our treaty with
Spain, This conduct on the part of the Spanish authorities had
created great excitement in the western country. In addition to this,
it was rumored abroad that Louisiana had been transferred to the
dominion of the all-powerful and all-grasping French Republic, now
under the sway of the ambitious Bonaparte. These important facts,
together with the private information he had obtained on the subject,
were deemed by the President as being worthy of a secret and confi-

SEVENTH AND EIGHTH CONGRESSES. 193
dential communication to Congress, which was made the 22d of Decem
ber. Additional information wag communicated on the 31st, and on
the Sth of January Mr. Griswold moved that the Piesident be re
quested to lay before the House copies of such official documents as
have been received by the Government, announcing the cession of
Louisiana to France, together with a report explaining the stipula
tions, circumstances, and conditions, under which that province is to
be delivered up. Those private messages, which called forth this
resolution, had, on motion of Mr. Eandolph, been referred to a
committee, and had been under consideration in the House with
closed doors. He now moved to refer Mr. Griswold's resolution to a
Committee of the Whole on the state of the Union. The motion,
after some discussion, was carried, and the Hquse went into commit
tee. Mr. Eandolph observed that he had in his hand certain reso
lutions connected with the message, relative to the late proceedings
at New Orleans, the discussion of which had been ordered to be con
ducted with closed doors. He asked the decision of the question,
whether, previously to offering his resolutions, the doors ought not to
be closed. Much opposition was made to this motion. Mr. Gris
wold's resolution, it was said, was one for information, and ought to
be discussed with open doors. Mr. Eandolph observed, that he had
already more than once stated his objections to discuss this subject
in public. He had observations, which, he had said, must be
made in secret " The gentleman from Connecticut says he is willing
the resolution should be fully discussed, and therefore concludes that
it must not be referred to a select committee, as he is pleased to term
it, where alone, as we contend, and have informed him, the discussion
can take place. Sir, this may be logic, but it is new to me. A mes
sage from the President relative to New Orleans has been referred
to a certain committee, and we propose to refer the resolution to the
same eommittee. Gentlemen exclaim that this is denying them in
formation. Does it follow of necessity that we deny the information
because we choose to consider the subject with closed doors ? Cannot
the resolution be as fully discussed in private as in public ? Do all
the reasoning faculties of the House cease to exist the moment the
doors are closed ? Cannot the eloquence of the gentleman be exerted
unless when addressed to the ladies who do u'j the honor of attend
ing in this hall?" Mr. Eandolph's motion prevailed. The House
VOL. L Q

194 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
was cleared, and he offered, with closed doors, the following resolu
tion, to which he had alluded in debate ; " Eesolved— That this House
receive, with great sensibility, the information of a disposition in cer
tain officers of the Spanish Government at New Orleans to obstruct
the navigation of the river Mississippi, as secured to the United States
by the most solemn stipulations. That, adhering to the humane and
wise policy which ought ever to characterize a free people, and by
which the United States have always professed to be governed, wil
ling, at the same time, to ascribe this breach of compact to the unau
thorized misconduct of certain individuals, rather than to a wai.t of
good faith on the part of his Catholic Majesty, and relying with per
fect confidence on the vigilance and wisdom of the Executive, they
wiU wait the issue of such measures as that department of the Govern
ment shall have pursued for asserting the rights and vindicating the
injuries of the United States ; holding it to be their duty, at the same
time, to express their unalterable determination to maintain the boun
daries and the rights of navigation and commerce through the river
Mississippi, as established by existing treaties."
One of the measures of the Executive to which Mr. Randolph
alludes, was a pending negotiation for the purchase of Louisiana,
Mr. Livingston, our minister at Paris, had received ample instruc
tions on this subject, and, about this time, Mr. Monroe had been
dispatched as envoy extraordinary, to aid him in the negotiation.
The proposition happened to have been made at a most fortunate
juncture of affairs, when Bonaparte was preparing for a war with
England. He wished to keep on good terms with the United States —
feared that the British navy might wrest his newly acquired province
from him during the coming war, and was much in need of money-
These considerations induced him to listen favorably to the proposi
tion of the United States to purchase Louisiana for a large sum of
money. Mr, Livingston conducted the business with great ability, and
when Mr, Monroe arrived, he had but little more to do than sign the
articles of the treaty, Bonaparte, in a very short time, repented of
this measure. He saw the great blunder he had committed in part
ing with a country so large, so rich, and so important, in a political
and commercial point of view ; and would have availed himself of
any pretext to break the treaty, and take back the province. The

SEVENTH AND EIGHTH CONGRESSES. 195
Piesident was apprised of all these facts, and warned by our min
isters, that if there should be the slightest delay in the ratification)
and in the provisions to be made by Congress to pay the instal
ments of the purchase, we should lose it altogether. The treaty was
signed at Paris, the 30th of April, 1803, So soon as it reached the
United States, the President, by proclamation, called Congress
en the first Monday in October, to take measures to carry it into
effect. In all his efforts to bring this business to a successful issue, the
President received the hearty co-operation of ;he leader of the House
of Representatives, Mr, Eandolph's quick and comprehensive mind
saw, at a glance, the importance of the crisis, and, as chairman of the
Committee of Ways and Means, his aid was most prompt and efficient
im getting over ihe difficulty. By the 10th of November, a bill had
been passed, and approved by the President, creating certificates of
stock in favor of the French Eepublic, for the sum of eleven mil
lions two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, bearing an interest of
six per centum per annum, from the time when possession of Louisiana
shall have been obtained, in conformity with the treaty of the thir
tieth day of April, one thousand eight hundred and three, between
the United States of America and the French Republic. Possession
was given the 20th of December foUowing ; and all the measures
adopted by Congress in regard to the newly acquired territory, were
either matured by the Committee of Ways and Means, of which Mr,
Eandolph was chairman, or by some select committee, appointed at
his instance. Few men did more than he to secure the purchase of
Louisiana, when once made, and then to provide for it a good and
efficient government Next to the Declaration of Independence, and
the adoption of the present Constitution, the acquisition of Louisiana
has had more influence than any other thing on the destiny of the
United States.
Mr. Jeffer-son was a strict constructionist, and held that no pow
ers should be exercised but those specifically granted. The Consti
tution 'Contemplates no territory beyond that in possession of the Con
federacy or of tie States at the time of its adoption. The purchase
of foreign territory was a thing not dreamed of by its framers, nor is
there any clause authorizing such a measure, Mr, Jefferson was
fully aware of this ; but he considered that there was suoh an imperi-

196 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
ous necessity in this case, requiring such immediate action — now or
never — that he would be justified in making the acquisition, and pro
curing a sanction of it afterwards, by an amendment of the Constitu
tion, " The Constitution has made no provision for our holding
foreign territory,'' says he, " still less for incorporating foreign nations
into our Union, The Executive, in seizing the fugitive occurrence,
which so much advances the good o^ their country, have done an act be
yond the Constitution. The legislature, in casting behind them meta
physical subtleties, and risking themselves like faithful servants, must
ratify and pay for it, and throw themselves on their country, for do
ing for them, unauthorized, what we know they would have done for
themselves, had they been in a situation to do it. But we shall not
be disavowed by the nation, and their act of indemnity will con
firm and not weaken the Constitution, by more strongly marking out
its lines," But unfortunately this act of indemnity was never performed —
the amendment of the Constitution was never made. What was an
exception, justified only by necessity, has now become a precedent ;
and nearly all the difficulties that threaten a dissolution of the
Union, growing out of the slavery question, and the acquisition of
new territory, have been occasioned by that fatal omission. Had the
Constitution been amended, as contemplated, by first sanctioning
that which had been admitted as a violation of it, and then by
defining minutely the powers to be exercised in future by Congress,
the present embarrassments of the country could never have hap
pened. We see also in this transaction the insufficiency of a paper
constitution to resist the current of the popular will — unless there be
power to restrain power, nothing else can withstand it — the plea of
necessity has been urged by Congress for nearly every unconstitutional
act they have perpetrated.
The next subject of importance to which Mr. Eandolph's atten
tion was turned, was the impeachment and trial of Judge Chase.
On Thursday the 5th of January, 1804, he moved that a committee
be appointed to inquire into the official conduct of Samuel Chase,
one of the associate justices of the Supreme Court of the United
States, and report their opinion whether the said Samuel Chase had
so acted in his judicial capacity as to require the interposition of the
constitutional power of the House. The committee reported seven

' SEVENTH AND EIGHTH CONGRESSES. 197
articles of impeachment drafted by their chairman, and detailing
charges of misconduct on the part of the judge in the trial of John
Fries, for high treason, in levying war against the United States
during the Whisky Insurrection in Pennsylvania ; and also in the
trial of Thomas Cooper and James Callender, for sedition or libel
against the President
This trial was a very important one, as Judge Chase had been
one of those high-handed federalists, who not only approved the
Alien and Sedition Laws, but had transcended all bounds in his
eagerness to enforce them.
For want of time the subject was postponed to the next session.
On the 30th November, 1804, the articles of impeachment were
again reported, and Mr. Eandolph was appointed chief manager to
conduct the trial before the Senate. The proceedings were very
tedious — many witnesses were examined — and many arguments
during the progress of the examination were delivered on both sides.
Mr. Randolph conducted the cause on the part of the prosecution
with the skill of a practised attorney. He opened the case on the
part of the House, the 14th February, 1805, in a speech of one hour
and a half Though it is out of the line of his usual forensic efforts,
it will well repay a perusal. As two-thirds of the senators present
were required to concur in sustaining an impeachment, and as only
a majority concurred in sustaining some of the articles. Judge Chase
was acquitted.
There was scarcely any subject of importance before Congress at
this period that did not attract the personal attention of Mr, Ran
dolph. Not content with the laborious duties of the Finance Commit
tee, furnishing work enough for any ordinary mind, we find him on
innumerable select committees, embracing the widest range of investi
gation on all subjects of legislation. Nothing escaped his vigilant
eye — nothing too laborious for him to undertake. These four
years, from the opening of Mr, Jefferson's administration to the 4th
of March, 1805, the close of the eighth Congress, were indeed his
working days. He was abstemious in his habits, unceasing in his
labors, unremitting in his attention to public duties.
No man had ever risen so rapidly, or attained a higher degree of
eminence and influence ; his career was brilUant and successful.
The President in the executive department, and, he as the leader of

198 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
the legislative, had done all that was expected of them in the greal
work of reforming the government, and bringing it back to its original
simplicity. Many years afterwards he recurred to this period with
just pride. "Sir, (said he in a speech on retrenchment, in 1828,) I
have never seen but one administration, which seriously, and in good
faith, was disposed to give up its patronage, and was willing to go
farther than Congress, or even the people themselves, so far as Con
gress represents their feelings, desired — and that was the first
administration of Thomas Jefferson. He, sir, was the only man I
ever knew or heard of, who i-eally, truly, and honestly, not only said
" nolo episcopari," but actually refused the mitre. It was a part of
my duty, and one of the most pleasant parts of public duty that I
ever performed, under his recommendation — not because he recom
mended it, thank God ! — to move, in this House, to relieve the public
at once from the whole burden of that system of internal taxation,
the practical effect of which was, whatever might have been its
object, to produce patronage rather than revenue. He, too, had
really at heart, and showed it by his conduct, the reduction of the
national debt ; and that in the only mode by which it can ever be
reduced, by lessening the expenses of the Government till they are
below its receipts."  " Never was there an administration," says
he, " more brilliant than that of Mr. Jefferson, up to this period.
We were indeed in the full tide of successful experiment ! Taxes
repealed ; the public debt amply provided for, both principal and
interest ; sinecures abolished ; Louisiana acquired ; public confidence
unbounded." None deserved more than himself a large portion of that un
bounded public confidence, which attached to the administration —
and he was, indeed, looked to from all quarters as the fearless cham
pion of truth and justice. But no man ever drank of the cup of
life unmingled with bitter waters. The mean and the envious had
grown jealous of his greatness, and were seeking by low and cunning
arts to destroy his influence, and to withdraw ftom him the confi
dence of the people. It was a trait of his character never to aban
don principle for policy ; never to relinquish a favorite measure how
ever hopeless of success ; never to quit his books and his study for
idle conversation ; never to permit a vulgar familiarity for the sake
of gaining popularity with those who were to vote on his measurea.

SEVENTH AND EIGHTH CONGRESSES. I99
Hence, they began to speak of him as a person possessing proud and
haughty manners ; and as a leader, having failed to harmonize the
republican members of Congress. " Great God !" exclaims Thomp
son, " to think that measures of the highest import to our country
are opposed, because their advocate does not make a bow in the right
way ! This is the fact : I have taken the liberty of asking, what
your manner has to do with your public character — whether there
are laws penal against study, reading, and devotion to the welfare of
vour country," But the caiise of offence lay not in his reserved and
retiring deportment — ^his proud and haughty manners — it was found
in that keen sense of injustice and wrong that made him detect base
ness and corruption in their most secret hiding-places, and io that
manly independent spirit that made him fearless in dragging out
the perpetrators into the light of day, and drawing on them th*.
scorn and indignation of the world. Mr. Randolph was one that
never could tolerate corruption in public men. There were many
of that class — or many that he suspected to be of that class — can-
nected with the administration. He was unsparing in his denuncia
tions of them. This was the cause of the growing discontent, and
the desire to throw him off as a leader.
His patriotic endeavors to overturn that colossus of turpitude, the
Yazoo speculation, was the cause of the hostility which soon mani
fested itself against him in the ranks of the administration Un
fortunately, too many were interested in upholding this gigantic
robbery. The reader has already been made acquainted with its
character ; by a reference to chapter thirteen of this volume, he wUl
see something of its history, Randolph was in Georgia at the time
of the perpetration of this villany, and participated in the shame
and mortification of his friends at seeing persons, reputed reUgious
and respectable, effecting a public robbery, by bribing the legisla
tors of the State, and reducing them to the horrors of treachery
and perjury. A more detestable, impudent, and dangerous villany
is not to be found on record. Notwithstanding the notoriety of these
transactions in the State of Georgia — the law was not only pronounc
ed unconstitutional, fraudulent and void, was not only repealed,
but it was burnt by the common hangman, and the record of it
expunged from the statute book — ^notwithstanding these facts, known
to all men, a company of individuals in other States purchased up

200 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
this fraudulent title and presented their petition to Congress, asking
remuneration for the land, which in the mean time had been trans
ferred by Georgia to the United States.
In the " Articles of Agreement and Cession" between Georgia
and the United States, is a proviso that the United States may dis
pose of, or appropriate a portion of the said lands, not exceeding
five millions of acres, or the proceeds of the five millions of acres, or
any part thereof, for the purpose of satisfying, quieting, or compen
sating for any claims, other than those -recognized in the articles of
agreement, which may be made to the said lands. It was under this
provision, that the New England and Mississippi Land Company,
who in the mean time had purchased the spurious title of the origi
nal grantees of a corrupt legislature, petitioned Congres,s to satisfy
their claim by a fair purchase or commutation. In the session of
1802-3, this subject was first brought to the attention of the legis
lature. Mr. Madison and Mr. Gallatin, members of the President's
cabinet, and Mr. Levi Lincoln, were appointed commissioners to
investigate this subject. They made an elaborate report, and con
cluded with a proposition, that so much of the five millions of acres
as shall remain after having satisfied the claims of settlers and
others, not recognized by the agreement with Georgia, which shall
be confirmed by the United States, be appropriated for the purpose
of satisfying and quieting the claims of the persons who derive their
titles from an Act of the State of Georgia, passed on the 7th day of
January, 1795, Thus we see that the leading members of the ad
ministration were pledged to the justice of this claim, and the pro
priety of some compensation on the part of the United States.
Gideon Granger, the Postmaster General, was at the head of
the New England and Mississippi Land Company, and was its agent
to prosecute the claim before Congress. He wrote an extended and
elaborate argument to prove that the Company were innocent pur
chasers without notice ; and indeed he undertook to cast censure on
the people of Georgia for repudiating and repealing the act of a
bribed legislature, and to charge that State and the United States
with injustice in appropriating to themselves lands which had
been legally sold by the State and purchased by his Company. Not
only, therefore, was the cabinet of the President committed as to
the justice of this claim ; but one of its most active and influential
members was deeply interested personally in its success.

SEVENTH AND EIGHTH CONGRESSES. ' 201
Mr, Randolph opposed it, however, from the beginning : he knew
its origin, its history ; and no consideration of prudence or policy
could induce him for a moment to tolerate the monstrous iniquity.
On the 25th of January, 1805, a resolution was introduced into
the House, that three conimisssioners be appointed to receive pro
positions of compromise and settlement from the several compa
nies or persons holding claims to lands within the present limits of
the Mississippi Territory, in such jianner as in their opinion shall
conduce to the interests of the United States, provided such settle
ment shall not exceed the limit prescribed by the convention with
the State of Georgia. This resolution was introduced by a few
remarks from Mr. Dana, chairman of the CommittCAS of Claims.
Mr. Randolph then rose : — " Perhaps," said he, " it may be sup
posed from the course which this business has taken, that the adver
saries of the present measure indulge the expectation of being able
to come forward at a future day — not to this House, for that hope
was desperate, ' but to the public — with a more matured opposition
than it is in their power now to make. , But past experience has
shown to them that this is one of those subjects which pollution has
sanctifled, that the hallowed mysteries of corruption are not to be
profaned by the eye of public curiosity. N'o, sir, the orgies of Yazoo
speculation are not to be laid open to the public gaze. None but the
initiated are permitted to behold the monstrous sacrifice of the best
interest of the nation on the altar of corruption. When this abomi
nation is to be practised, we go into conclave. Do we apply to the
press, that potent engine, the dread of tyrants and of villains, but the
shield of freedom and of worth ? No, sir, the press is gagged. On
this subject we have a virtual sedition law ; not with a specious title,
but irresistible in its operations, which goes directly to its object.
This demon of speculation has wrested from the nation at one sweep,
their best, their only defence, and has closed the avenue of informa
tion. But a day of retribution may yet come. If their rights are
to be bartered away, and their property squandered, the people must
not, they shall not be kept in ignorance by whom it is done. We
have often heard of party spirit, of caucuses, as they are termed, to
settle legislative questions, but never have I seen that spirit so visible
as at present. The out-door intrigue is too palpable to be disguised.
When it was proposed to abolish the judiciary system, reared in the
VOL. I. 9*

202 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH,
last moments of an expiring administration, the detested offspring
of a midnight hour; when the question of repeal was before the
House ; it could not be taken until midnight in the third or fourth
week of the discussion. When the great and good man who now fills,
and who (whatever may be the wishes of our opponents) I hope and
trust will long fill the executive chair, not less to his own honor than
to the happiness of his fellow-citizens — ^when he recommended the
repeal of the internal taxes, delay succeeded delay, till patience itself
was worn threadbare. But now, when public plunder is the order
of the day, how are we treated ? Driven into a committee of the
whole, and out again in a breath by an inflexible majority, exulting
in their strength, a decision must be had immediately. The advo
cates for the proposed measure feel that it will not bear scrutiny.
Hence this precipitancy. They wince from the touch of examination,
and are willing to hurry through a painful and disgraceful discussion.
As if animated by one spirit, they perform all their evolutions with
the most exact discipline, and march in firm phalanx directly up to
their object. Is it that m£n combined together to effect some evil
purpose, acting on previous pledge to each other, are even more in
unison than those who, seeking only to discover truth, obey the im
pulse of that conscience which God has placed in their bosom ? Such
men will not stand compromited. They will not stifle the sugges
tions of their own minds, and sacrifice their private opinions to the
attainment of some nefarious object,
" The memorialists plead ignorance of that fraud by which the
act from which their present title was derived, was passed. As it
has been a pretext for exciting the compassion of the legislature, I
wish to examine the ground upon which this allegation rests. When
the act of stupendous villany was passed, in 1795, attempting under
the form and semblance of law to rob unborn millions of their birth
right and inheritance, and to convey to a band of unprincipled and
flagitious men, a territory more extensive, more fertile than any
State in the Union, it caused a sensation scarcely less violent
than that caused by the passage of the Stamp Act, or the shutting up
of the port of Boston ; with this difference, that when the Port Bill
of Boston passed, her Southern brethren did not take advantage of
the forms of law, by which a corrupt legislature attempted to de
fraud her of the bounties of nature ; they did not speculate on the

SEVENTH AND EIGHTH CONGRESSES. 203
wrongs of their insulted countrymen. ***** Sanction this claim,
derived from the act of 1795, and what, in effect, do you declare?
You record a solemn acknowledgment that Congress has unfairly and
dishonestly obtained from Georgia a grant of land to which that State
had no title, having previously sold it to others for a valuable consid
eration, of which transaction Congress was at the time fully apprised.
The agents of this Mississippi Land Company set out with an attempt
to prove that they are entitled to the whole fifty millions of acres of
laid, under the act of 1795; and thus they make their plea to be
admitted to a proportional share of five. If they really believed
what they say, would they be willing to commute a good legal or
equitable claim for one-tenth of its value ! * * * * 'We are told that
we stand pledged, and that an appropriation for British gran is, not
granted by Spain especially, was made for the especial benefit of a
particular class of claimants, branded too by the deepest odium, who
dare talk to us of the public faith, and appeal to the national honor !
* * * * The right of the State of Georgia to sell is denied by your
own statute book. So far from being able to transfer , o others the
right to extinguish the Indian title to land, she has not been able to
exercise it for her own benefit. It is only through the agency of the
United States that she can obtain the extinguishment of the Indian
title to the sale of land within her limits ; much less could she dele
gate it to a few Yazoo men. ***** The present case presents a
monstrous anomaly, to which the ordinary and narrow maxims of
municipal jurisprudence cannot be applied. It is from great first
principles, to which the patriots of Georgia so gloriously appealed,
that we must look for aid in such extremity. Extreme cases, like
this, call for extreme remedies. They bid defiance to palliatives, and
it is only by the knife, or the actual cautery, that you can expect re
lief There is no cure short of extirpation. Attorneys and judges
do not decide the fate of empires. ***** The Government of the
United States, on a former occasion, did not, indeed, act in this firm
and decided manner. But those were hard, unconstitutional times,
that never ought to be drawn into precedent. The first year I had
the honor of a seat in this House, an act was passed somewhat of a
similar nature to the one now proposed. I allude to the case of the
Connecticut Reserve, by which the nation was swindled out of three
or four millions of acres, which, like other bad titles, had fallen into

204 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
the hands of innocent purchasers. When I advert to the applicants
by whom we were then beset, I find among them one of the persons
who styled themselves the Agents of the New England Mississippi
Land Company, who seems to have an unfortunate knack of buying
bad titles. His gigantic grasp embraces with one hand the shores of
Lake Erie, and with the other stretches to the Bay of Mobile. Mil
lions of acres are easily digested by such stomachs. Goaded by ava
rice, they buy only to sell, and sell only to buy. The retail trade of
fraud and imposture yields too small and slow a profit to gratify their
cupidity. They buy and sell corruption ip the gross, and a few mil
lions of acres, more or less, is hardly feit in the account. The
deeper the play, the greater their zest in the game ; and the stake
which is set upon the throw is nothing less than the patrimony of the
people, Mr, Speaker, when I see the agency which is employed on
this occasion, I must own that it fills me with apprehension and
alarm. The same agent is at the head of an executive department of
our Government, and inferior to none in the infiuence attached to it,
* * * * This officer presents himself at your bar, at once a party and
an advocate. Sir, when I see such a tremendous influence brought
to bear upon us, I do confess it strikes me with consternation and
despair. Are the heads of executive departments, with the influ
ence and patronage attached to them, to extort from us now, what we
refused at the last session of Congress ?»**** I -vviH pin my.
self upon this text, and preach upon it as long as I have life. If no
other reason could be adduced, but for a regard for our own fame — if
it were only to rescue ourselves from this foul imputation — this weak
and dishonorable compromise ought to receive a prompt and decisive
rejection. Is the voice of patriotism lulled to rest, that we no longer
hear the cry against an overbearing majority, determined to put
down the Constitution, and deaf to every proposition of compromise ?
Such were the dire forebodings to which we have been compelled
heretofore to listen. But if the enmity of such men be formidable,
their friendship is deadly destruction, their touch deadly pollution 1
What is the spirit against which we now struggle — which we have
vainly endeavored to stifle ? A monster generated by fraud, nursed
in corruption, that in grim silence awaits its prey. It is the spirit
of Federalism,"

FRIENDSHIP. 205
It may readily be conceived what effect this and similar speeches
which had been delivered, whenever the subject was presented, would
have on the members of the republican party who were interested,
for themselves or their friends, in the Yazoo speculation. An in
trigue was set on foot to supplant Mr. Randolph. It was determined
that he should be put down. The Postmaster General openly de
clared that he or Randolph — one must fall. This expression was un
derstood as intimating an intention to call him out. Some one
observed that Randolph would not be backward in answering to a
call of that kind. He replied, not in that way — '¦^ I mean, as a public
man — as a political character." After the adjournment of Congress,
March, 1805, he made a tour of the New England States, for the pur
pose of organizing a party to pull down Randolph. Some of the re
publican members from that quarter gave countenance to the plan,
and Mr. Barnabas Bidwell was put forward as their file-leader.
These men insinuated themselves into favor, and assumed to be the
exclusive friends of the President ; but they were charged, many of
them, with being in league with Burr, and having no other design but
to embarrass the Executive, and to force the President into a sanction
of their views. " If some members of Congress," says a leading jour
nal of that day, " are to be bribed vnth post-office contracts to obtain
their votes for a nefarious speculation, on one hand ; and if a member
of Congress, superior to all corruption, and all pollution or dishonor,
is to be pulled down ; and the offices of Government are to be em
ployed to such ends ; it is vain to pretend that republican govern
ment can stand, if such corruption and such corrupt men are suffered
to retain all the power, which they prostitute ; and if men of virtue,
honor, talents and integrity, are to be made victims of intrigue, bot
tomed on such corruption."

CHAPTEE XXVIII.
FRIENDSHIP,
We have seen what an immense task, and what a weight of responsi
bility, devolved on Mr. Eandolph for the last four years. He found
time, nevertheless, to keep up an extensive correspondence with his

206 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
friends. He had now added to the list his two half-brothers and
their sister, who were just growing up. His sentiments in regard to
the conduct of a family towards those " worthy lads," who just begin
to feel the pride and self-importance of budding manhood, are so true
and so worthy of imitation, that we give them to the reader, — ¦
" Give to dear Beverly," says he, " my warmest love. Let me, my
dear sister, caution you (and be not offended at it) respecting that
worthy lad. Treat him with a marked attention. I know you love
him tenderly — he is deserving of it. Display that affection by a man
ner the most considerate and kind. Cherish him ; for he is a jewel above
price, Beverly is now of an age to receive from ?very body the treat
ment due to a man — a young one, I grant — and to a getitleman. No
consideration should dispense with this conduct on any part. It does
not im^pl J jb?-mality, but respect — not coldness, but kind attention.
These, I pronounce, are essentially requisite, and in a greater degree
than usual, to the development of his amiable character."
But poor Thompson continued, by his erratic ways, to keep alive
the anxious solicitude of his friend. That brilliant, though wayward
genius, had fallen into desperate courses. Calumny, acting on a
morbid sensibility, had banished him from that home where alone he
could find sympathy and encouragement Misfortune had so per
verted his feelings, as to make him, in the spirit of misanthropy,
shun the observation of those that once knew and respected him, and
to seek oblivion and forgetfulness in the haunts of low dissipation.
Now was the time to test true friendship. The cold world would
pass him by with averted look, and protest they never knew him ;
the friend would take him by the hand, and gently and affectionately
draw him back to the paths of virtue, Eandolph professed to be his
friend — how nobly did he redeem that pledge ! In the following let
ter, he speaks to him in plainness and in truth. But whilst he
does not spare his erring friend, his censure is accompanied with
such a tone of delicacy and affection, as to melt the most obdurate
heart, and kindle emotions of reformation in the most desperate
outcast, " Whatever may be the motives," says he, " which have determined
you to renounce all intercourse with me, it becomes me, perhaps, to
respect them ; yet to be deterred from my present purpose by punc
tilio would evince a coldness of temper which I trust does not belong

FRIENDSHIP. 907
to me, and would, at the same time, convict me to myself of the most
pitiful insincerity, in professing for you a regard which has never
been inferior to my professions, and which is not in any circumstance
entirely to destroy. To tell you that during the last three months
I have observed your progress through life with uninterrupted and
increasing anxiety, would be to give you a faint idea of what has
passed in my mind. The mortification which I have experienced on
hearing you spoken of in terms of frigid and scanty approbation, can
only be exceeded by that which I have felt on the siknt embarrass
ment which my inquiries have occasioned those who were unwilling
to wound your character or my feelings. You know me too well,
William, to suppose that my inquiries have been directed by the
miserable spirit which seeks to exalt itself on the depression of others.
They have, on the contrary, been very few, and made with the most
guarded circumspection. To say the truth, I have never felt myself
equal to the task of hearing the recital of details which were too
often within my reach, and which not unfrequently courted my atten
tion. They have always received from me the most decisive repulse.
My own pride would never bear the humiliation of permitting any
one to witness the mortification which I felt. After all this pream
ble, let me endeavor to effect the purpose of this address. Let me
beg of you to ask yourself what are your present pursuits, and how
far congenial to your feelings or character. I have not, I cannot,
so far have mistaken you ; you cannot so successfully have deceived
yourself Yours is not the mind which can derive any real or last
ing gratification from the pursuits or the attainments of a grovelling
ambition. These may afford a temporary and imperfect reUef from
that voice which tells you who you are, and what is expected from
you. The world is well disposed to forgive the aberrations of youth
ful indiscretion from the straight road of prudence ; but there is a
point beyond which its temper can no longer be played upon. After
a certain degree of resistance, it becomes more prone to asperity
than it had ever been to indulgence. But grant that its good nature
were unlimited, you are not the character who can be content to hold
by so humiliating a tenure that which you can and ought to demand
of right Can you be content to repose on the courtesy of mankind
for that respect which you may challenge as your due, and which
may be enforced when withheld ? Can you quit the high ground and
imposing attitude of self-esteem to solicit the precarious bounty of a

208 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
contemptuous and contemptible world ? I can scarcely forgive my
self for dwelling so long on so invidious a theme, I have long medi
tated to address you on this subject. One of the dissuasives from
the plan is now removed. Let me again conjure you to ask yourself
seriously, What are your present objects of pursuit? How far any
laudable acquirement can be attained ' by a town residence, particu
larly in a tavern ? Whether such a life be compatible with the
maintenance of that respectability of character which is necessary to
give us value in the eyes of others or of ourselves ? And let me con
jure you to dissolve by a single exertion the spell which now enchains
you. The only tie which oould have bound you is no more. Town
fetters are but those of habit, and that of but short standing. Were
it confirmed, there would indeed be but little hope, and this letter
would never have been penned. As it would be improper to urge
the dissolution of your present plan of life without pointing out some
alternative, I recommend a residence of twelve or eighteen months
with Taylor, and a serious application, before it be too late, to that
profession which will be a friend to you when the sunshine insects
who have laughed with you in your prosperity shall have passed away
with the genial season which gave them birth. The hour is fast
approaching, be assured, when it will be in vain to attempt the ac
quirement of professional knowledge. Too well I know that readi
ness of apprehension and sprightliness of imagination will not make
amends for application. The latter serves but to light up our igno
rance. " There is one topic on which I cannot trust even my pen. Did I
not believe that this letter would occasion you pain, it certainly never
had been written. Yet to write it with that view would be a
purpose truly diabolical. You are a physician ; you probe not the
wounds of the dead. Yet 'tis to heal, and not to agonize, that you
insert your instrument into the living body. Whatever may be the
effect of this attempt — ^whatever may be the disposition which it cre
ates in you, I shaU never, while you live, cease to feel an interest in
your fate. Every one here remembers you with undiminished affec
tion. If I judge from myself, you are more than ever interesting to
them, and whenever, if ever, you revisit Bizarre, you will recognize
in every member of the family your unchanged friends.
" Adieu,
«J. E„ Jr."

FRIENDSHIP. 209
This last and noble effort to redeem a fallen friend was not in
vain. The advice was followed. Thompson spent a few months with
Creed Taylor, in the neighborhood of Bizarre; he then went to
Eichmond and read law, in the office of George Hay, Esq., a distin
guished lawyer and politician of that day. From this time, with
few exceptions, his letters are more cheerful, and replete with sallies
of his fine genius ; he communicates much instructive and amusing
information about the proceedings of the legislature, and the leading
characters of Eichmond ; and never failed to give vent to those
deep feelings of gratitude that swelled in his bosom, towards one who
had been to him a brother indeed, in his hour of degradation and
misfortune. Having obtained a competent knowledge of his profession, Mr.
Eandolph procured for him an office in the newly acquired territory
of Louisiana — encouraged him to break off from his old associations,
and to seek his fortune anew, in a land of strangers. In the spring
of 1804, he married a virtuous and accomplished wife, and set out on
his journey to the far west, with all those bright prospects that his
ardent imagination knew so well how to picture before him. This is
the last letter ever addressed to him by his friend :
Bizarre, 13 May, 1804.
" When I requested you to inquire at the post-office at Abing
ton for a letter from me, it did not occur to me by how circuitous a
route my communication must travel before it could reach that place.
To guard against accidents, therefore, I have directed it to be for
warded to Nashville, in case you should have left Abington before
its arrival there. We have been every day suggesting to ourselves
the inconvenience to which you must have been exposed by the bad
weather which we have invariably experienced ever since your
departure, and regretting that the situation of your affairs would not
permit you to continue with us until a change took place. You, how
ever, my good friend, have embarked upon too serious a voyage to
take into consideration a little rough weather upon the passage. The
wish which I feel to add my mite to the counsels through which alone
it can prove prosperous, is repressed by the reflection, that your suc
cess depends upon the discovery of no new prrinciple of human
affairs, but upon the application of such as are familiar to all, and
which none know better how to estimate than yourself Decision,

210 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
firmness, independence, which equally scorns to yield our own
rights as to detract from those of others, are the only guides to the
esteem of the world, or of ourselves. A reliance upon our resources
for all things, but especially for relief against that arch fiend the
taedium vit^, can alone guard us against a state of dependence and
contempt. But I am growing sententious, and, of course, pedantic.
Judy joins me in every good wish to yourself and Mrs. Thompson,
Permit me to add that there is one being in the world who will ever
be ready to receive you with open arms, whatsoever may be the fate
of the laudable endeavors which you are now making,
" Yours, truly, " John Eandolph,
"Wm, Thompson,"
Poor Thompson did not live to test the strength of his redeemed
virtue, and to make a new application of those principles that he had
learned in the school of adversity so well how to estimate. He died
by the way-side, and all the renewed hopes of himself and of his
friend, were swallowed up in the oblivious night of death. On the
back of the copy of the foregoing letter, which is written in Mr,
Eandolph's own handwriting, is found the following endorsement :
"W, T., May 13, 1804. Alas!" What more could he write as an
epitaph on the lonely tomb of this wandering, ill-starred young man?
Alas ! alas ! was all that could be said of the misfortunes and the
untimely end of poor William Thompson,
Joseph Bryan, in the meantime, had returned from his travels ;
the joyous, free-hearted Bryan had ceased " fighting the Eussians,"
recrossed the broad Atlantic main, and from his sea-girt isle was in
diting letters to his friend, describing the cities he had seen, the men
and their manners — if not with the depth of observation of the wise
Ulysses, at least with as much pleasure and freedom of narration.
He urged his old companion to visit once more his friends in Geor
gia: " You are the popular man here," says he, " the federalists to the
contrary notwithstanding." But Eandolph, ever seeking to make his
friends useful to themselves and to their country, turned the thoughts
of this volatile young man to a higher aim.
On his solicitation, Bryan became a candidate for Congress ; was
deffeated ; renewed the attempt, and was successful. He stood by

FRIENDSHIP. 211
the side of his gallant friend and fought manfully that Medusa head
of fraud, the Yazoo speculation, whenever it reared its horrid front
upon the floor of Congress. He had been to Bizarre, and formed an
acquaintance with the charming society there, of which he ever after
wards spoke in terms of the highest admiration ; he had hunted,
fished, flown kites, and played marbles with " the boys ;" but above
all, his wild fancy had been caught at last, and, like the fly in the
spider's web, he was entangled in the inextricable meshes of all-
conquering love. Miss Delia Foreman, daughter of General Fore
man, of the Eastern Shore of Maryland, intimate friends of Mr.
Eandolph, was the charming object of attraction. The Bummer
recess of 1804 was spent in Georgia, but the island in the sea, with
all its means of pleasure, had lost its charm, and he was about to
desert it, and to go in search of the fair nymph whose dwelling looked
tut on the broad waters of the Chesapeake.
On the Sth of September, 1804, from Bizarre his friend writes to
him : " Should this find you at Wilmington, which I heartily wish it
may not, I trust, my dear Bryan, that you will derive the most satis-
fectory information from the inclosed respecting your fair tyrant.
To me the Major says not a word on the subject of his daughter, but
I infer from a variety of circumstances that she is about this time on
a visit to her aunt, Mrs. Van Bibber, in Gloucester, about eighty
miles from Eichmond ; I hope, therefore, very soon to see you in
Virginia. " I have nothing worth relating, except that Mrs. Eandolph was
almost as much disappointed as myself when our messenger arrived
last night from the post-office without a letter from you. How easy
would it be, once a week, to say ' I am at such a place, in such health,
and to-morrow shall go to  .' These little bulletins of your
well-being and motions would be a thousand times more interesting
to me than those of his Britannic Majesty's health, or his Corsican
Highness's expeditions. Let me beg of you to make dispatch.
" Yours as ever, " John Eandolph."
After the adjournment of Congress, March, 1805, Bryan hastened
on to Chestertown to be married. On the Sth of March he writes
from tJb i place : " You will hardly believe me when I tell you,

212 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
that my tyrants have had the unparalleled barbarity to postpone
my marriage untU the 25th of this month. Sumptuousness, pomp,
parade, &c., must be observed in giving away a jewel worth more than
the kingdoms of this world. — I rather suspect I shall be myself the
most awkward and ungraceful movable used on the occasion : curso
it, I hate to be exhibited ; and nothing but the possession of the
jewel itself would induce me to run the gauntlet of felicitation I
shall receive from the whole file of collaterals.  Lovely as her
person is, I prize her heart more. Jack ! what have I done to in
duce the good God to favor me so highly ? Sinner that I am, I
deserve not the smallest of his gifts, and behold I am treated more
kindly than even Abraham, who saw God face to face, and was called
his friend ; he, poor fellow, had to put up with his sister Sarah, who,
beside other exceptionable qualities, was cursed with a bad temper ;
while I, having sought among the beauties of the earth, have found and
obtained the loveliest and best, which I am willing to prove against
all comers on foot or on horseback, in the tented field with sword
and spear, or on the roaring ocean at the cannon's mouth. If you
will come and see us (on their island in the sea), my Delia will
make one of her best puddings for your entertainment. In the course
of a year or two you may expect to see your friend Brain metamor
phosed into a gentleman of high polish, able to make as spruce a
bow, and to hand a lady to her carriage with all the graces of an
Adonis. Adieu ! may heaven prosper and bless you."
In the course of a year or two, alas ! he was metamorphosed ; the
beautiful Delia also faded away ; and their two little boys were left
orphans ! John Eandolph showed his attachment to the father by
his devotion to the sons ; they were raised partly in his own house,
and educated at his expense. The oldest and the namesake, John
Eandolph Bryan, many years after this period, when he grew up to
manhood, married Miss Elizabeth Coulter, the niece of Mr, Ean
dolph; " my charming niece," as he used to call her, and the daughter
of his beloved and only sFster, Mr, Bryan and his accomplished
wife now live in Gloucester county, Virginia, on the Bay Shpre.
A bountiful soil blesses them with its abundant fruits ; and the tide,
that daily fiows at their feet, wafts to their door the rich treasures of
the sea. May they long live to enjoy in their " happy nook" the
blessings of a peaceful home ; and to dispense that elegant hospi-

NINTH CONGRESS. 213
tality, so rare now, but, at the time their father first visited Bizarre,
so common in the Old Dominion,
The causes of this great change, or at least some of them, we are
now about to investigate, John Eandolph has said that " The
embargo, like Achilles' wrath, was the source of our Iliad of woes !"

CHAPTEE XXIX.
NINTH CONGRESS, — FOEBIGN EELATIONS, — DIFFICULTIES WITH
FEANCE AND SPAIN,
Never had an administration a more difficult task to perform than that
of Mr. Jefferson at this time. Ever since the Freneh revolution there
had been a constant warfare, with short breathing intervals, between
France and England, The hostility of their political principles, add
ed to old national antipathies, now made it a war of extermination.
These great belligerent powers strove to involve the United States in
the controversy. But our policy was neutrality : General Washing
ton early announced this course, and his firm hand steadily pursued
it so long as he grasped the helm of affairs, Mr, Adams was not so
successful — his English predilections swerved him from the straight
path of neutrality, and involved his administration in a " quasi war"
with France, Mr, Jefferson had hitherto been eminently successful
in all his domestic and foreign policy. But now, in 1 805, he seemed
to be involved in almost inextricable difficulties. Our embarrass
ments with Spain, France, and England, had grown so complicated
and critical, that it seemed impossible to escape without war, or na
tional disgrace. The purchase of Louisiana removed a present peril,
but brought with it a train of difficulties. Bonaparte made the sale
just before his meditated rupture of the treaty of Amiens, and at a
time when he feared the province would be wrested from him by the
superior maritime power of England. But he soon repented of his
bargain, and sought every opportunity to regain his lost empire be
yond the Atlantic. Spain, but three years before, had made an ex
change of it with France, and had not surrendered possession. She

214 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH
was much displeased at the transfer made by the First Consul, and
between them they embarrassed the United States as much as they
could, and threw every obstacle in the way of a full and peaceable
possession of the new territory. England still retained much of her old
grudge towards the United States as revolted provinces — looked with
a jealous eye on their growing commerce, their rising greatness — and
sought every opportunity to clip the wing of the aspiring eagle. En
tertaining these feelings towards the peaceful and neutral govern
ment beyond the Atlantic, these two great powers were involved in a
war of life and death between themselves ; all Europe was in battal
ion , every engine of destruction was brought to play ; like the Ti
tans of old, they tore up mountains, islands, whole continents, and
hurled them at each other ; the globe itself seemed as though it
might tumble into ruins beneath +heir giant warfare. What chance
had the commerce or the neutral rights of the United States to be
respected in such a strife ? The President, in his opening message,
the 3d of December, 1805, describes in glowing terms the destructive
course of the great belligerents towards his own country. Again,
on the 6th of December, three days after the opening of Congress,
he sent a special message on the subject of Spanish aggressions ;
they seemed to be first and most urgent. The depredations, he said,
which had been committed on the commerce of the United States
during a preceding war, by persons under the authority of Spain,
had been adjusted by a convention ; so also the spoliations commit
ted by Spanish subjects and carried into ports of Spain ; it had been
likewise agreed that those committed by French subjects and carried
into Spanish ports should remain for further discussion. Before this
convention was returned to Spain with our ratification, the transfer
of Louisiana by France to the United States took place, an event as
unexpected as disagreeable to Spain. From that moment she seemed
to change her conduct and dispositions towards us ; it was first man
ifested by her protest against the right of France to alienate Louisi
ana to us, which, however, was soon retracted, and the right con
firmed. Her high offence was manifested at the act of Congress es
tabUshing a collection district on the Mobile, although by an authen
tic declaration, immediately made, it was expressly confirmed to our
acknowledged limits ; and she now refused to ratify the convention
sttgned by her own minister under the eye of his sovereign, unless we

NINTH CONGRESS. 215
would consent to alterations of its terms, which would have affected
our claims against her for spoliations by French subjects carried into
Spanish ports.
To obtain justice, as well as to restore friendship, the President
thought proper to send Mr. Monroe on a special mission to Spain.
" After nearly five months of fruitless endeavors," says the message,
" to bring them to some definite and satisfactory result, our ministers
ended the conferences without having been able to obtain indemnity
for spoliations of any description, or any satisfaction as to the boun
daries of Louisiana, other than a declaration that we had no right
eastward of the Iberville ; and that our line to the west was one,
which would have left us but a string of land on that bank of the
Mississippi. Our injured citizens were thus left without any pros
pect of retribution from the wrong-doer, and as to boundary, each
party was to take its own course. That which they have chosen to
pursue will appear from the documents now communicated. They
authorize the inference, that it is their intention to advance on our
possessions until they shall be repressed by an opposing force"
The message then speaks of the conduct of France in regard to
the misunderstanding between the United States and Spain. " She
was prompt and decided in her declarations, that her demands on
Spain for French spoliations carried into Spanish ports, were included
in the settlement between the United States and France. She took
at once the ground, that she had acquired no right from Spain, and
had meant to deliver us none, eastward of the Iberville."
In conclusion, the President says : " The present crisis in Eu
rope is favorable for pressing a settlement, and not a moment should
be lost in availing ourselves of it. Should it pass unimproved, our
situation would become much more difficult. Formal war is not ne
cessary ; it is not probable it will follow ; but the protection of oui
citizens, the spririt and Itonor of our country require, that force should
be interposed to a certain degree ; it will probably contribute to ad
vance the object of peace. But the course to be pursued will require
the command of 'means, which it belongs to Congress exclusively, to
deny or to yield. To them I communicate every fact material for
their information, and the documents necessary to enable them to
judge for themselves. To their wisdom, then, I look for the course
I am to pursue, and will pursue with sincere zeal that which they
shall approve."

216 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
The President recommends no definite plan of action — leaves
every thing to the discretion of Congress ,'Nj>ut it is obvious that he
expected them to appropriate means to raise an army of some sort,
to repel the invasions of Spain, and to protect the persons and the
property of our citizens in the disputed territory^
This message was secret and confidential : all propositions in re
gard to it were discussed in conclave. The debate is said to have
taken a very wide range, and was very animated. On that occasion,
John Eandolph is said to have delivered the ablest and most elo
quent speech ever heard on the floor of Congress. When this mes
sage was read in the House of Eepresentatives, it was referred to a
select committee, of which Mr. Eandolph was chairman. He imme
diately waited on the President, and informed hiin of the direction
which had been given to the message. We have his authority for
saying, that he then learned, not without surprise, that an appropri
ation of two millions tvas wanted to purchase Florida 1 He told the
President that he would never agree to such a measure, because the
money had not been asked for in the message ; that he would not
consent to shift to his own shoulders, or those of the House, the pro
per responsibility of the Executive. If the money had been explicit
ly demanded, he should have been averse to granting it, because,
after a total failure of every attempt at negotiation, such a step
would disgrace us for ever ; because France would never withhold
her ill offices, when, by their interposition, she could extort money
from us ; that it was equally to the interest of the United States, to
accommodate the matter by an exchange of territory ; — (to this mode
of settlement the President seemed much opposed) — that the nations
of Europe, Uke the Barbary powers, would hereafter refuse to look
on the credentials of our ministers, without a previous douceur.
The committee met on the 7th of December. One of its mem
bers (Bidwell of Massachusetts) construed the message into a requi
sition of money iox foreign intercourse. To draw such a conclusion,
it is plain he must have had some other key of interpretation than
that of the words in which the message was expressed. He proposed
a grant to that effect, which was overruled. On the 14th of Decem
ber, the chairman was obliged to go to Baltimore, and did not return
till the 21st of the month. During this interval, the dispatches from
Mr, Monroe, of the 18th and 25th of October, bearing on the subject

J-INTH CONGRESS.

217

of Spanish aggressions, were received by Government, but never
submitted to the committee. Previous to the chairman's departure
for Baltimore, he had occasion to call on the Secretary of Stata
(Madison) to obtain a passport for his nephew. Saint George Ean
dolph, whom he was about sending to Braidwood's and Sicard's
schools, near London and Paris. Mr. Madison took this opportu
nity to enter into an explanation of the policy about to be pursued in
regard to Spanish aggression. He concluded his remarks with the
declaration, that France would not permit Spain to adjust her dif
ferences with us ; tliat France war ted money, and that we must give
it to lier, or have a Spanish and FVench war !
It will be remembered that this declaration was made to on.'j who
was reputed to be the leader of the House of Eepresentatives, and
who was chairman of the Committee of Ways and Means. The ap
propriation here intimated would have to be recommended by that
committee, and explained and defended before the House by its
chairman. <^t is not surprising that a man of Mr. Eandolph's high
sense of honor and of personal dignity ; and, above all, that one who
had so nice a perception of the rights of the representative, and of
the -delicate relation existing between him and the Executive, which
admitted not of the slightest approach towards influence or dictation,
should have fired with indignation at a proposition which seemed to
make him and the House of Eepresentatives a mere tool of the Exe-
cutive< to do that for them which they dare not avow before the
world,/ When this declaration was made, so different from the sentiments
expressed by the President's public and secret messages, and so
humiliating to the pride and honor of the country, Mr Eandolph
abruptly left the presence of the Secretary with this remarkable ex
clamation, " Good morning, sir ! I see I am not calculated for a
politician !"
Mr. Eandolph returned from Baltimore, the 21st of December,
and convened the committee. As they were assembling, the Secre
tary of the Treasury (Gallatin) called him aside, and put into his
hands a paper headed, " Provision for the purchase of Florida."
Mr. Eandolph declared he would not vote a shilling ; and ex
pressed himself disgusted with the whole of this proceeding, which
he could not but consider as highly disingenuous — the most scrupu-
VOL. L 10

218 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Ious care, he said, had been taken to cover the reputation of the ad
ministration, while Congress were expected to act as though they
had no character to lose ; whilst the official language of the Executive
was consistent and dignified<[j!ongress yt&s privately required to take
upon itself the odium of shrinking from the national honor and
national defence, and of delivering the public purse to the first cut
throat that demanded it^ From the official communication, from the
face of the record, it would appear that the Executive had discharged
his duty in recommending manly and vigorous measures, which he had
been obliged to abandon, and had been compellcvl, by Congicss, to pur
sue an opposite course ; when, in fact. Congress had been acting all the
while at Executive instigation. Mr, Eandolph further observed, that
he did not understand this double set of opinions and principles ; the
one ostensible, to go upon the journals and before thepublic; the other,
the efficient and real motives to action ; that he held true wisdom and
gunning to be utterly incompatible in the conduct of great affairs ; that
¦^ehadstrongobjections to the measure itself; but in thp shape in which
it was presented, his repugnance to it was insuperab^ In a subse
quent conversation with the President himself, in which those objec
tions were recapitulated, he declared that he too had a character to
support and principles to maintain, and avowed his determined oppo
sition to the whole scheme.
On the 3d of January, 1806, Mr. Eandolph made a report, under the
instructions of the committee, which seems to be fully responsive to
the views of the President, as expressed in both his messages, " The
committee have beheld," says the report, " with just indignation, the
hostile spirit manifested by the court of Madrid towards the govern
ment of the United States, in withholding the ratification of its con
vention with us, although signed by its own minister, under the eye
of his sovereign unless with alteration of its terms, affecting claims
of the United States which, by the express conditions of the instru
ment itself, were reserved for future discussion ; in piratical depre
dations upon our fair commerce ; in obstructing the navigation of
the Mobile ; in refusing to como to any fair and amicable adjustment
of the boundaries of Louisiana ; and in a daring violation, by per
sons acting under the authority of Spain, and, no doubt, apprised of
ner sentiments and views, of our undisputed limits, whicii she had so
lemnly recognized by treaty.

NINTH CONGRESS. 219
" To a government having interests distinct from those of its peo
ple, and disregarding its welfare, here is ample cause for a declaration
of war, on the part of the United States, aud such — did they obey
the impulse of their feelings alone — is the course which the commit
tee would not hesitate to recommend. But, to a government identi
fied with its citizens, too far removed from the powerful nations of
the earth for its safety to be endangered by their hostility, peace
must always be desirable, so long as it is compatible with the honor
and interest of the community. Whilst the United States continue
burdened with a debt which annually absorbs two-thirds of their rev
enue, and duties upon imports constitute the only resource from
which that revenue can be raised, without resorting to systems :f tax
ation not more ruinous and oppressive than they are uncertain and
precarious — the best interests of the United States cry aloud for
peace. When that debt shall have been discharged, and the resour
ces of the nation thereby liberated, then may we rationally expect to
raise, even in time of war, the supplies which our frugal institutions
require, without recurring to the hateful and destructive expedient of
loans ; then, and not till then, may we bid defiance to the world. The
present moment is peculiarly auspicious for the great and desirable
work. Now, if ever, the national debt is to be paid, by such financial
arrangements as will accelerate its extinguishment, by reaping the
rich harvest of neutrality, and thus providing for that diminution of
revenue which experience teaches to expect on the general pacifica
tion of Europe. And the committee indulge a hope, that in the
changed aspect of affairs in that quarter, Spain will find motives for
a just fulfilment of her stipulations with us, and an amicable settle
ment of limits, upon terms not more beneficial to the United States
than advantageous to herself; securing to her an ample barrier on the
side of Mexico, and to us the countries watered by the Mississippi,
and to the eastward of it. But whilst the committee perceive, in the
general uproar of Europe, a state of things peculiarly favorable to
the peaceable pursuit of our best interests, they are neither insensi
ble to the indignity which has been offered on the part of Spain, nor
unwilling to repel similar outrages\^^ On the subject of self-defence,
when the territory of the United States is insulted, there can be but
one opinion, whatever differences may exist on the question whether
that protection, which a vessel finds in our harbors, shaU be extended

220 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
to her by the nation in the Indian or Chinese seas. Under this im
pression the committee submit the following resolution : That such
number of troops (not exceeding  ) as the President of the Uni
ted States shall deem sufficient to protect the southern frontier of the
United States from Spanish inroad and insult, and to chastise the
same, be immediately raised.":^
Mr, Eandolph explained, that the peculiar situation of the frontier
at that time insulted, had alone induced the committee to recommend
the raising of regular troops. It was too remote from the population
of the country for the militia to act, in repelling and chastising Span
ish incursion. New Orleans and its dependencies were separated by
a vast extent of wilderness from the settlements of the United States ;i
filled with disloyal and turbulent people, alien to our institutions,
language, and manners, and disaffected toward our government. Lit
tle reliance could be placed upon them ; and it was plain that if " it|
was the intention of Spain to advance on our possessions until she
should be repulsed by an opposing force," that force must'be a regu-i
lar army, unless we were disposed to abandon all the country south
of Tennessee ; that if the " protection of our citizens and the spirit
and the honor of our country required that force should be inter-;
posed," nothing remained but for the legislature to grant the only
practicable means, or to shrink from the most sacred of all its duties
to abandon the soil and its inhabitants to the tender mercy of hostile
mvaders. Such were the proposition and the views of the committee, in ex
ict correspondence, as they conceived, with the wishes of the Presi-i
dent as expressed in his public and secret message.
Yet the report of the committee, moderate as it might seem, was
deemed of too strong a character by the House. It was rejected. A
proposition, the avowed object of which was, to enable the President
to open a negotiation for Florida, was moved as a substitute, by Mr.
Bidwell of Massachusetts. Mr. Eandolph moved that the sum tO|
be appropriated should be confined to that object ; which was agreed
to. But afterwards, when the biU was formally brought in, this spe
cific appropriation was rescinded by the House, and the money left
at the entire discretion of the Executive, to be used " toward any ex
traordinary expense which might be incurred in the intercourse be
tween the United States and foreign nations,"

NINTH CONGRESS. 221
Mr. Eandolph also moved to limit the amount which the Govern
ment might stipulate to pay for the territory in question ; upon the
ground that if Congress were disposed to acquire Florida by pur
chase, they should fix the extent to which they were willing to go,
and thereby furnish our ministers with a safeguard against the rapa
city of France ; that there was no probability of our obtaining the
country for less, but every reason to believe that without such a pre
caution on our part, she would extort more. This motion was over
ruled. When the bill came under discussion, various objections were
urged against it by the same gentleman ; among others, that it was
in direct opposition to the views of the Executive, as expressed in the
President's official communication (it was on this occasion that Gene-
i-al Varnum declared the measure to be consonant tc the secret
wishes of the Executive) ; that it was a prostration of the national
honor at the feet of our adversary ; that a concession so humiliating
would paralyze our efforts against Great Britain, in case the nego-
tion then pending between that government and ours, should
prove abortive ; that a partial appropriation towards the purchase of
Florida, without limiting the President to some specific amount,
would give a previous sanction to any expense which he might incur
for that object, and which Congress would stand pledged to make
good ; that if the Executive, acting entirely upon its own responsi
bility, and exercising its acknowledged constitutional powers, should
negotiate for the purchase of Florida, the House of Eepresentatives
would, in that case, be left free to ratify or annul the contract ; but
that the course which was proposed to be pursued (and which eventu
ally was pursued) would reduce the discretion of the legislature to a
mere shadow ; that at the ensuing session Congress would find itself,
in relation to this subject, a deliberative body but in name ; that it
could not, without a manifest dereliction of its own principles, and,
perhaps, without a violation of public faith, refuse to sanction any
treaty entered into by the Executive, under the auspices of the legis
lature, and with powers so unlimited ; that, however great his confi
dence in the Chief Magistrate, he would never consent to give any
President so dangerous a proof of it ; and that he never would pre
clude himself, by any previous sanction, from the unbiassed exercise
of his judgment on measures which were thereafter to come before

222 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH,
him ; that the House had no official recommendation for the step
which they proposed to take ; on the contrary, it was in direct op
position to the sentiments as expressed in the confidential message ;
and that the responsibility would be exclusively their own ; that if
he thought proper to ask for an appropriation for the object (the pur
chase of Florida), the responsibility of the measure would rest on
him ; but when the legislature undertook to prescribe the course
which he should pursue, and which he had pledged himself to pur
sue, the case was entirely changed ; that the House could have no
channel through which it could be made acquainted with the opinions
of the Executive, bjit such as was official, responsible, and known to
the Constitution ; \and that it was a prostitution of its high and
solemn functions, to act upon an unconstitutional suggestion of the
private wishes of the Executive, irresponsibly announced by an
irresponsible individual, and in direct hostility to his avowed
opinionSj^ It will be remembered that these proce dings and discussions
took place in conclave, on the President's confidential message, Mr,
Eandolph's course was so grossly misrepresented, and his motives so
basely calumniated, that, at a subsequent period of the session, he
moved the House to take off the injunction of secrecy from the Presi
dent's communication, that the world might see what the Executive
had really required at the hands of the legislature, and how far they
had complied with his publicly expressed wishes, in the report and
resolution of the committee.
The secret journal of the House had been published ; but, for
some reason unaccountable to us, the message, which was the founda
tion of the whole proceeding, and without which tho journal was
wholly unintelligible, had been withheld from the public. Mr. Ean
dolph's motion was, to publish the message and the documents — he
was willing to abide the decision of an impartial judgment on the
perusal. This motion gave rise to much debate and angry recrimi
nation, Mr. Eandolph said :
" It is not my wish, Mr. Speaker, to trespass on the patience of the
House, But I think it necessary to explain what I am sure the
House has not well understood ; for my positions have been grossly!
perverted, whether intentionally or not I will not undertake to say
Gentlemen opposed to us act a very strange and ineonsistent part

NINTH CONGRESS. 223
They will not give credit to a private individual as to a conversation
had with him. I only stated that conversation as a reason for say
ing I had withdrawn my confidence. And will gentlemen say I am
bound, when evidence has come to my private knowledge which is
sufficient to damn any man, to legislate on a principle of confidence ?
When I find misrepresentations made to the public, and insinuations
of the most despicable kind on this fioor, I come out, and call on
any man to deny what I have stated. They cannot — they dare not.
For I take it for granted no man will declare in the face of the nation
a wilful falsehood. But while gentlemen will not give credit to what
has fallen from one individual, they have no hesitation in giving
credit to an individual member for the whole course of the Gov
ernment, " In my opinion it is of the flrst importance that the message should
be published, from a material fact which took place in this House,
A member in his place told you, that the course recommended by a
particular individual was consonant with the secret wishes of the
Executive. I did then reprehend that language as the most unconsti
tutional and reprehensible ever uttered on this floor, I did believe
that the people of the United States possessed as free a Constitution
as the British people, and I had hoped freer ; and I knew that such
language had in the British Parliament been considered as repre
hensible, and had brought forward a vote of indignation in that body.
I allude to the case, where the King's name was used for the pur
pose of throwing out Mr. Fox's India bill, <^I then reprobated this
back-stair influence, this double dealing, the sending one message
for the journals and newspapers, and another in whispers to this
House^) I shall always reprobate such language, and consider it
unworthy of any man holding a seat in this House. I had before
always flattered myself, that it would be a thousand years hence
before our institutions would have given birth to these Charles Jen-
kinson's in politics. I did not expect them at this time of day, and
I now declare it important, in my opinion, that the message should
be published, that the public may be enabled to compare the official
with the unofficial message which decided the vote,
" There is another reason for its publication. The gentleman
from Pennsylvania has said there is no mention of France on the
journals ; and that we have no cause of complaint against France

224 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
I wish the publication of the message to prove what causes of com
plaint we have against France. Let men of sense take a view of all
the papers, and I am willing to abide the issue. It is said France
has done us no injury — that the bubble is burst. We are told that
this is a plain answer to all the speeches made on this floor. Permit
me to say, the gentleman (Mr. Epps) has given a plain answer to all
the speeches delivered on this floor ; it was impossible to have given
a plainer answer to them. He says, I will vote with you, but I will
make a speech against you. Permit me to say, this is the first time I
would not rather have had his vote than his speech. After this
speech there can be no doubt as to the issue of the question, I wiU
go further, after the adjournment on Saturday there could be no
doubt, Saturday, it seems, is an unfortunate day, on which no expe
dition is to be undertaken, no forlorn hope conducted,
" The same gentleman has said that we pursued precisely the
same course in 1803 as in 1806, and for obtaining the same object.
He says the same course is now pursued, and yet he says he will not
undertake to say the cases are not dissimilar ; put this and that
together, and what do you make of it ? The cases are decidedly dis
similar. In 1803 there was no existing misunderstanding between
the American and French governments with regard to our differences
with Spain. JThose differences have started up like a mushroom in
the night, W^e made an appropriation to purchase the Floridas —
to buy them — ^from whom ? From their rightful owner. The circum
stances would have been similar, if the United States had given
money to France to compel Spain to form a treaty with us ; then the
national honor would have received a deadly wound. But there was
nothing of this sort in the formation of the treaty then made. Spain,
under the operation of causes in which we had no agency, transferred
Louifiana to France, and France transferred it to us. But this is
not now the case. We are told that Spain is no longer an indepen
dent power, but is under the control of France. What follows? That
France is an aggressor on us, which proves every thing I have
alleged.N. -
" Th^ is another thing to be observed. xThe public have' been
given to understand, that two millions have been appropriated for
the purchase of the Floridas, This is not so. The appropriation is
only towards doing something ; but what that is, is not defined by law."/

NINTH CONGRESS. 225
Now if in 1803 we appropriated two millions for the purchase of the
Floridas, and did not get them, what security is there now that by
making an appropriation in the same language, we shall obtain them?
Although the persons making the appropriation are not tjie same
identical beings, those applying the sum appropriated are. ^ do not
believe that we shall get the Floridas. In this I may be mistaken :
I hope I shall be ; for after having descended to prostitute tho
national character, let us at least receive the wages of iniquity>-
" But gentlemen inquire, will you become the guardians of Spain ?
This is a mistake which has run throagh every attempt at argument
I have heard. We never professed to be the guardians of Spain.
We profess to be the guardians of our own honor. We care not for
France trampling on Spain, Let her pick her pockets, for what we
care ; but if we instigate her to it, it is no longer a mere question
between France and Spain, but a question in which our own honor is
engaged, which is at once mortgaged and gone.
" Until the gentleman from Virginia got up, I confess that, what
with my exhausted state, the badness of the air, and the tenuity of
the arguments of gentlemen, so excessively light that they at once
vanished into thin air, that I had not a word to say ; for it is not to
be supposed that I intended to reply to any thing offered by the
gentleman behind me. If I am to fall, let me fall in the face of day,
and not be betrayed by a kiss, — -I mean no profane allusion. I shall
do my duty as an honest man. SE came here prepared to co-operate
with the government in all its measures. I told them so. But^ I
soon found there was no choice left, and that to co-operate in them
would be to destroy the national character?' I found I might co-ope
rate, or be an honest man ; I have therefore opposed, and will oppose
them. Is there an honest man disposed to be the go-between, to
carry down secret messages to this House? No. It is because men
of character cannot be found to do this business, that agents must be
got to carry things into effect, which men of uncompromited character
will not soil their fingers, or sully their characters with.
" One word on the subject of voting on unofficial notice, on the re
presentations of individuals, in the place of communications officially
received from the officers of the executive department. I have al
ways considered the Executive, in this country, as atanding in the
same relation to the two Houses, that the minister or administration
VOL. L 10*

226 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
bore to the legislature under governments similar to our own. 1
have always considered that the responsibility for public measures,
rested more particularly on them. For those measures they are an
swerable to the people — and to me it has been a subject of peculiar
regret (I do not speak of the general character of the Constitution)
that they have not a seat on this floor. For whatever may be sup
posed to be my feelings, as to .he members of the administration, I
am ashamed when I see their fame and character committed to such
hands as we are in the daily habit of witnessing. If their measures
are susceptible of justification, I should like to have a justification at
their own hands, instead of hearing Yazoo men defend them. Much
less did I expect, on such an occasion, to hear a Yazoo man, assign
ing his motives for a vote, on a totally different subject, and this in
justification of a man with whom he is connected by ties of con
sanguinity. This reminds me of the intention imputed to me, to
bring forward an impeachment against a great officer of state. This,
however, is so far from being the truth, that I appeal to those who
heard me, whether I did not declare that I washed my hands of im
peachments — that I was done with them. No, I will neither di
rectly, nor indirectly, have any thing to do with them. But I will
in all questions that shall come before this House, discuss the public
character and conduct of any public agents from a secretary to a
constable : and I will continue to do it, until it .shall be admitted by
the Constitution that the king can do no wrong. I say I wish the
heads of departments had seats on this floor. Were this the case,
to one of them I would immediately propound this questionei^Did
you, or did you not, in your capacity of a public functionary, tell
me, in my capacity of a public functionary, that France would not
suffer Spain to settle her differences with us, that she wanted money,
that we must give her money, or take a Spanish or French war^
And did not I answer, that I was neither for a war with Spain or
France, but in favor of defending my country? I would put that
question to him. I would put this question to another head of de
partment : Was, or was not, an application made to you for money,
to be conveyed to Europe to carry on any species of diplomatic ne
gotiation there ? I would listen to his answer, and if he put his
hand on his heart, and Uke a man of honor said no, I would believe
him, though it would require a great stretch of credulity. I would

NINTH CONGRESS. 227
o«ll into my aid faith, not reason, and believe when I was not con
vinced. I would then turn to the first magistrate of the nation and
say : Did you not buy Louisiana of France ? Has France acted in
that transaction in a bona fide manner ? Has she delivered into your
possession the country you beUeved you had bought from her ? (Has
she not equivocated, prevaricated, and played off Spain against you,
with a view of extorting money?^ I will answer for the reply. There
cannot be the smaUest doubt about it. I will put the whole business
on this issue. All the difficulty has arisen from that quarter.
" Yes, the bubble has burst ! It is immaterial to us, whether you
publish the President's message or not. But it is material to others
that you should ; and let me add, the public will not rest satisfied
with the conduct of those, who profess to wish it published, while
they vote against the publication. The public will not confide in
such professions. Gentlemen may show their bunch of rods, may
treat them as children, and offer them sugar-plums ; but all will not
avail them, so long as they refuse to call for the dispatches of our
ministers, and other documents, which if published would fix a stain
upon some men in the government, and high in office, which all the
waters in the ocean would not wash out. Gentlemen may talk about
our changing and chopping about, and all that. What is the fact ?
We are what we profess to be — not courtiers, but republicans, acting
on the broad principles we have heretofore professed — applying the
same scale with which we measured John Adams to the present ad
ministration. Do gentlemen flinch from this and pretend to be re
publicans ? They cannot be republicans, unless they agree that it
shall be measured to them as they measured to others. But we art,
perhaps to be told, that we all have become federalists — or that the
federalists have become good republicans. This, however, is a charge
which, I am convinced, the federalists will not be more anxious to
repel than we to be exonerated from. No, they will never become
good repubUcans.- They never did, ¦ they never will act with us.
What has happened ? they are in opposition from system, and we
quo ad hoc, as to this partieular measure. Like men who have
roughed it together, therejs a kind of fellow-feeling between us.
There is no doubt of it. ^ut as to political principle, we are as
much as ever opposgdr There is a most excellent alkali by which
to test our principles. The Yazoo business is the beginning and the

228 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
end, the alpha and omega of our alphabet With that our differ
ences began, and with that they will end ; and I pray to God that
the liberties of the people may not also end with them.
" When the veracity of a man is called in question it is a serious
business. The gentleman from Massachusetts has appealed to the
House for the correctness of his statement. I, too, appeal to the
House whether this was not his expression, when he undertook to
explain away what he had said, for he did not deny it : " That he
would vouch that such were the secret wishes of the President ;'' and
whether I did not observe that his attempt to explain was like Judge
Chase attempting to draw back a prejudicated opinion in the case of
Fries ; that he might take back the words, but not the effect they
had made on the Assembly ; that the Constitution knows only ofjiwo
ways by which the Executive could influence the Legislature \the
one by a recommendation of such measures as he deemed expedient ;
thi, other, by a negative on our bills ; and that the moment it was
attempted to influence the House by whispers and private messages
its independence was goneS> I stated the proneness of legislative
bodies to be governed by Executive influence, and, in illustration.
referred to the Senate, who, from its association with the Executive
and the length of time for which its members hold their seats, was
necessarily made up of gaping expectants of office, and there can be
no doubt of the fact. It must be so from the nature of things. Now,
if it be necessary, let the House appoint a Committee of Inquiry to
ascertain what the gentleman from Massachusetts did say, and let
us see who can adduce the most witnesses and swear the hardest.
No, th? gentleman from Massachusetts had on that occasion so dif
ferent a O'juntenance, dress and address, that I could not now recog
nize him for the same man. He seemed thunderstruck and to be in
a state of stupefaction at his indiscretion. He appeared humbled
in the presence of those who heard what he had said, and beheld his
countenance. His words were these, my life on it : 'I will vouch
that such are the secret wishes of the President, or tbe Executive,'
I do not know which."

DIFFICULTIES WITH GREAT BRITAIN. 229

CHAPTEE XXX.
DIFFICULTIES WITH GREAT BEITAIN.
The aggressions of Great Britain on the persons, the property, and
the rights of American citizens began at an early period, and were
still continued with increased aggravation. It was high time for some
firm stand to be taken in regard to them. The peace, prosperity,
and honor of the country demanded an effectual system of measures
to arrest them. Officers of the British navy had long been in the
habit of boarding American vessels, dragging seamen thence, and
forcing them into their own service under the pretext that they were
British subjects. The law of England did not recognize the right of
expatriation. The sovereign claimed the services of all his subjects
in time of war, and impressed them wherever they could be found.
The similarity of language, of person, and of habits, made it difficult
to distinguish an American from an English sailor. Many of the
latter had taken refuge from their own hard naval service in the pro
fitable commercial marine of the United States. In re-capturing
their own subjects, they not unfrequently dragged American citizens
from their homes. They were charged with not being very scrupu
lous in this regard. Not less than three thousand American sailors,
it was said, had been forced to serve in the British navy. The go
vernment of the United States denied the right of Great Britain to
impress seamen on board any of their vessels on the high seas, or
within their own jurisdiction. They .contended that a neutral flag
on the high seas was a safeguard to those sailing under it. They were
sustained in this doctrine by the law of nations.
Although Great Britain had not adopted in the same latitude with
most other nations the immunities of a neutral flag, yet she did not
deny the general freedom of the high seas, and of neutral vessels
navigating them, with such exceptions only as are annexed to it by
the law of nations. The exceptions are objects commonly denomi
nated contraband of war ; that is, enemies serving in the war, arti
cles going into a blockaded port, and enemy's property of every kind.
But nowhere, it was contended, could an exception to the freedom
of the seas and of neutral flags be found that justifled the taking

230 ^FE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
away of any person, not an enemy in military service, found on boara
a tieutral vessel.
The right of impressment, growing out of their different interpre
tation of the law of nations, was one, and the gravest, of the subjects
of dispute between the two nations. The other was in regard to the
carrying trade. The question commonly presented itself in this
form ; Was that commerce allowable in time of war which was pro
hibited in time of peace ? Great Britain, by her powerful marine,
had swept the ocean nearly of the whole of the vessels ii her ene
mies. In consequence of this, the produce of the colonies of France,
Spain, and Holland, was imported into the mother countries by neu
tral ships ; in fact, it was almost wholly transported in American
bottoms. The restrictive colonial system of these powers did not
suffer this transportation by foreigners in times of peace ; but the
necessities arising from a calamitous naval war induced them to '.aj
their ports open by a forced liberality to this general commerce.
French, Spanish, and Dutch property in American bottoms now
became neutralized, and was protected, as some contended, by the
American flag. But the property was still enemy's property, and
fell within the exception of the law of nations. The French navy
had been totally annihilated ; in consequence, the products of her
colonies had to lie rotting on their wharfs, for want of transportation,
while the mother country was suffering both from the want of the
produf^ts and of the revenue arising from the sale and consumption
of them. These were the evils intended to be inflicted by a naval
victory, in order to force her to an honorable peace. But the United
States came in with their ships, and relieved Prance of these evils,
by becoming carriers between her and her colonies.
. Can that be a neutral commerce which robs one of the belligerent
parties of all the advantages of a victory, and relieves the other from
nearly all the evils of a defeat ? It can hardly seem possible at this
day that any one could have contended for such a doctrine ; yet Mr.
Madison maintained that the contrary principle, denying the neutral
character of such a commerce, ivas of modern date — that it was
avowed by no other nation than Great Britain, and that it was
assumed by her, under the auspices of a maritime ascendency, which
rendered such a principle subservient to her particular interests.
This doctrine, however, contended for by a nation that had the

DIFFICULTIES WITH GREAT BRITAIN. 231
power to maintain it, was gotten over by subterfuge and evasion.
We will illustrate the manner by an example. A French subject
purchases a cargo of coffee at Guadaloupe, intending it for the market
of Nantes : to ship it in a vessel belonging to any one of the nations
belligerent with England, was absolutely throwing it away ; but the
ordinary device of sending it under the cover of an American flag is
resorted to ; the American refuses to carry it directly for the harbor
of Nantes, alleging, that if he is captured by an English cruiser, a
condemnation must follow such an attempt at an immediate com
merce between the mother country and her colony. False owners
are created for the ship's cargo, in the character of Americans. The
vessel instead of sailing for Nantes, makes for New York, and in due
time arrives there ; bonds for the payment of duties are given, and
the cargo is landed. The vessel loads again with the same coffee :
the debentures of the custom-house are produced ; the bonds for du
ties are cancelled, and she now makes her way boldly for Nantes, as
a neutral ship, not to be molested. The entire trade of the French,
Spanish and Dutch colonies was conducted in American vessels, in
this indirect way. A most profltable business it was surely, but it is
shocking to contemplate the influence on the moral character of those
engaged in it. All this chicanery and duplicity were often forced
through by absolute perjury — always by a prostration of honorable
delicacy. The British Courts of Admiralty allowed this indirect trade
through a neutral port, where there was proof of an actual change of
ownership. Whenever the neutral party could show that he hsApur-
chased the property, he was suffered to pass unmolested ; but such a
bond fide purchase rarely took place ; and enemy's property was cov
ered up and protected by neutral names, under false pretences.
Such was the carrying trade.
These two — the impressment of seamen and the carrying trade —
constituted the main difficulties existing between the United States
and Great Britain ; all others grew out of them, and would necessa
rily cease on a satisfactory adjustment of those leading subjects of
complaint. These questions were involved in much obscurity. Much might
be said on both sides. Each nation had just cause of complaint
against the other. Here was a fair field for negotiation and com-

232 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
promise. But we can now perceive the secret motives that would in
cessantly throw obstacles in the way of a satisfactory arrangement of
these difficulties. There was the old grudge against England, cher
ished in the prejudices of the people ; the jealousy of her superior
naval power on that element where we were as much at home as she
was ; the spirit of rivalry that stimulated our merchants to share
with her the commerce of the world ; the barren results of any set
tlement of difficulties with her during the wars in Europe — it might
secure peace, but could bring no profit. On the other hand, there
were the old partialities for our ancient ally ; the fraternizing spirit
between the two Eepublics ; the enthusiasm enkindled in a max /ial
people, by the daring exploits and brilliant successes of Napoleon ;
the secret consciousness that his irresistible power would always be
interposed between them and any hostile movements of England ;
the lucrative commerce, and the absolute monopoly of the carrying
trade between France, Spain, Holland, and their dependencies, and
which must cease on a compromise with England ; — add to these
causes, that went home to the prejudices and the interests of the people,
the all-controlling influence of party spirit — which had long since at
tached to the friends of England the epithet of monarchists and
tories, and to the friends of France that of republicans and friends
of the people — and we cannot fail to perceive that every agency
which was calculated to give direction to public opinion would bend
it against any adjustment of British difficulties during the continu
ance of the wars in Europe.
The subjects of difference were ably discussed by the Secretary
of State in his instructions to our minister at the Court of St. James;
but when the President thought proper to bring the matter before
Congress, and to call on them for action, he had no plan to propose.
He did not recommend, as the Constitution required, any speciflc
mode of adjustment. He left the Legislature to grope their way in
the dark, and to adopt such measures as they might think proper,
without any previous participation on his part in the responsibility.
Various crude and illy-digested schemes were offered in the House
and in the Senate, They all seemed to contemplate coercing Eng
land into measures by operating on her commerce, Gregg's resolu
tion — the one principally discussed in the House — went so far as to
prohibit all intercourse between the two nations, until England

DIFFICULTIES WITH GREAT BRITAIN. 233
would consent to settle the subjects of dispute between them on fail
terms. This professed to be a peace measure, but it was actual war
in disguise. Many of its friends discussed it as a war measure.
Mr. Eandolph so regarded it. " I am not surprised," said he, " to
hear this resolution discussed by its friends as a war measure. They
say, it is true, that it is not a war measure ; but they defend it on
principles that would justify none but war measures, and seemed
pleased with the idea that it may prove the forerunner of war. If
war is necessary, if we have reached this point, let us have war. But
while I have life, I will never consent to these incipient war meas
ures, which in their commencement breathe nothing but peace, though
they plunge us at last into war. ***** What is the question in
dispute? The carrying trade. What part of it? The fair, the
honest, and the useful trade, that is engaged in carrying our own
productions to foreign markets and bringing back their productions
in exchange ? No, sir ; it is that carrying trade which covers ene
my's property, and carries the coffee, the sugar, and other West In
dia products to the mother country. No, sir ; if this great agricul
tural nation is to be governed by Salem and Boston, New York and
Philadelphia, and Baltimore, and Norfolk, and Charleston, let gen
tlemen come out and say so ; and let a committee of public safety be
appointed from these towns to carry on the government. I, for one,
will not mortgage my property and my liberty to carry on this trade.
The nation said so seven years ago ; I said so then, I say so now ; it
is not for the honest carrying trade of America, but for this mush
room, this fungus of war, for a trade, which as soon as the nations of
Europe are at peace will no longer exist — it is for this that the spirit
of avaricious traffic would plunge us into war. I am forcibly struck
on this occasion by the recollection of a remark, made by one of the
ablest, if not the honestest, ministers England ever produced ; I
mean Sir Eobert Walpole ; who said that the country gentlemen
(poor, meek souls !) came up every year to be sheared, that they
laid mute and patient whilst their fleeces were taking off, but if he
touched a single bristlcDf the commercial interest the whole stye was
in an uproar. It was, indeed, shearing the hog — ^great cry and Uttle
wool. " What is the fact ? Whilst we boast of our honor on this floor,
our name has become a by-word among the nations. Europe, and

234 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Paris especially, swarms with pseudo-Americans, with Anglo and
Gallo Americans, and American French and Flnglish, who have
amassed immense fortunes by trading in the neutral character — by
setting it up to auction, and selling it to the best bidder. Men of
this description — striplings, without connections or character — have
been known to buy rich vessels and their cargoes, in Amsterdam and
Antwerp, and trade with them under the American name to the In
dies. Neutral character has constituted one of the best remittances
for colonial produce, or the goods which purchase it ; and the trade
in this commodity of neutrality has produced a most lucrative branch'
of traffic. This it is that has sunk and degraded the American name
abroad, and subjected the fair trader to vexatious seizure and de
tention. " But yet, sir, I have a more cogent reason against going to war,
for the honor of the flag in the narrow seas, or any other maritime
punctilio. It springs from my attachment to the principles of the
Government under which I live. I declare, in the face of day, that
this Government was not instituted for the purposes of offensive war.
No ; it was framed (to use its own language) for the common defence
and general welfare, which are inconsistent with offensive war. I
call that offensive war, which goes out of our jurisdiction and limits,
for the attainment or protection of objects not within those Umits and
that jurisdiction. As in 1798, I was opposed to this species of war
fare, because I believed it would raze the Constitution to its very
foundation — so in 1806, am I opposed to it, and on the same grounds.
No sooner do you put the Constitution to this use — to a test which
it is by no means calculated to endure, than its incompetency to such
purposes becomes manifest and apparent to all. I fear, if you go
into a foreign war, for a circuitous, unfair foreign trade, you will
come out without your Constitution. Have you not contractors
enough in this House ? or do you want to be overrun and devoured
by commissaries, and all the vermin of contract? I fear, sir, that
what are called the energy men, will rise up again — men who will
burn the parchment. We shall be told that our Government is too
free, or, as they would say, weak and inefficient — much virtue, sir.
in terms ; that we must give the President power to call forth the
resources of the nation — ^that is, to filch the last shilling from our
pockets, or to drain the last drop of blood from our veins. I am

DIFFICULTIES WITH GREAT BRITAIN. 235
against giving this power to any man, be he who he may. The
American people must either withhold this power, or resign their
liberties. There is no other alternative. Nothing but the most im
perious necessity will justify such a grant ; and is there a powerful
enemy at our door ? You may begin with a First Consul. From that
chrysalis state he soon becomes an emperor. You have your choice.
It depends upon your election whether you will be a free, happy, and
united people at home, or the light of your executive majesty shall
beam across the Atlantic, in one general blaze of the public liberty.
" But, sir, it seems that we, who are opposed to this resolution, are
men of no nerve — who trembled in the days of the British treaty —
cowards, I suppose, in the reign of terror. Is this true ? Hunt up
the journals — let our actions tell. We pursue our old, unshaken
course. We care not for the nations of Europe, but make foreign
relations bend to our poUtical principles, and serve our country's
interests. We have no wish to see another Actium, or Pharsalia, or
the lieutenants of a modern Alexander playing at piquet, or all-fours,
for the empire of the world. 'Tis poor comfort to us to be told that
France has too decided a taste for luxurious things to meddle with
us ; that Egypt is her object, or the coast of Barbary, and, at the
worst, we shall be the last devoured. We are enamored with
neither nation. We would play their own game upon them — ^use
them for our interest and convenience. But, with all my abhorrence
of the British Government, I should not hesitate between Westmin-
p.ter Hall and a Middlesex jury, on the one hand, and the wood of
Vincennes and a file of grenadiers, on the other. That jury trial
which walked with Home Tooke, and Hardy through the flames of
ministerial persecution, is, I confess, more to my taste than the trial
of the Duke d'Enghein."
But we must forbear any further quotations from Mr. Eandolph's
speeches against Gregg's resolutions. There were two of them, de
livered on the 5th and 6th of March. They were not merely elo
quent and forcible in their expression, but display a comprehensive
knowledge of our foreign relations, and a deep insight into the
motives of men who foment discord between nations that should
be at peace with each other. They are patriotic in their tone,
and show a warm devotion to the Constitution and the Union, and a
profound comprehension of those principles which alone can preserve

236 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH,
them in their integrity. While we forbear further quotation, we
feel constrained to give the substance of Mr. Randolph's views on the
questions therein discussed.
This was an important crisis, not only in his own history, but in
that of the country. This was the beginning of a series of measures
that separated Mr. Randolph from his old political associations,
and that finally involved the country in a disastrous war. The
party heats and animosities that rankled in the bosoms of men at
that day have all died away. Let impartial history speak the truth,!
and do justice to one whose name has long been calumniated. We
shall give facts as they are condensed from his own speeches, and
leave the world to judge how far he acted as a zealous patriot, an
honest man, and an enlightened statesman.
It was notorious, says Mr. Randolph, that in regard to the cc arse
to be pursued towards Great Britain, no opinion was expressed by
the members of the Cabinet, in their collective or individual capaci-,
ties. On the contrary, the President frequently declared, without
reserve, that he had no opinion on the subject. Similar declarations
were made by other influential and leading persons presiding over the!
executive departments — and it is a fact, that no consultation was held
between them, from the meeting of Congress, on the 3d of Decem
ber, till some time in the month of March. This want of concert
and decision in the administration, might easily have been inferred
(even if there were no other proof of it) from the various, discordant,
and undigested projects which were brought forward in the legisla
ture, and to this want of system must be referred much of the mis
chief which then resulted from this subject, as well as the embarrass
ment which afterwards ensued.
Mr. Randolph was of opinion that the impressment of our sea
men furnished just cause for indignant resentment on our part ; but
he saw no reason for pushing that matter to extremity at that time,
which had not existed in as full force, for the last five years, or even
twelve years. Our government, in consideration of the great num
ber of British seamen in our employment, and of the identity of lan
guage and manners between that class of their subjects, and the
same description of our citizens, but above all, from motives of sound
policy (too obvious to need recapitulation), had hitherto deemed it
expedient to temporize on this interesting and delicate topic — ^he

DIFFICULTIES WITH GREAT BEITAIN. 237
could see no just ground, at present, for departing from this sys
tem — more especially pending an actual negotiation between the twc
governments, on the point in dispute. He was of opinion that no
thing should be left undone to accommodate our differences amica
bly, and that no step should be taken which might interrupt or de
feat such a settlement — that even if we should resort to war, it must
eventuate in a treaty of peace, by which the points in controversy
would be adjusted, or left in statu quo ante bellum — and thak after
incurring the incalculable mischiefs of war, the derangement of our
finances and the augmentation of the public debt, to an extent which
could not now be foreseen ; to say nothing of its baneful effects up
on our political institutions, and of the danger which must accrue
from throwing our weight, at this juncture, into the preponderating
scale of Europe ; there was no prospect that we should obtain better
terms at any future pacification, than were attainable at present — at
any rate, he was disposed to give fair play to a fair experiment at ne
gotiation. But if any active measures were to be taken against
Great Britain, they should be of the most efficient and decisive na
ture. He deprecated half measures, as the most injurious to our
selves which could be adopted.
Whilst the Bill was yet under discussion, the news of the death
of Mr, Pitt, and of the consequent change of ministry, reached the
United States. No circumstance could have afforded a fairer or more
honorable pretext, or a more powerful motive, for suspending our
measures against Great Britain, than this. The late Premier was
known to be decidedly hostile to the institutions, the interests, and
the very people, of America,
No administration, not even that of Lord North himself, had
been or could be more inimical to the United States, than that of Mr.
Pitt His power, moreover, was connected with, and depended upon,
the continuation and duration of the war. He was succeeded by Mr.
Fox, unquestionably thi most liberal and enlightened statesman of
Europe ; the man above all others, beyond the Atlantic, the best af
fected towards the principles of our government, and the illustrious
character by whom it was administered.
Never did a fairer occasion present itself to any nation for chang
ing, without any imputation of versatility, or any loss of honor, the
course which they had chosen to prescribe to themselves. The ex-

238 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
citement of public sentiment, and the measures consequent upon that
excitement, might, fairly and honorably, have been referred to the
known character of the late Premier, the pupil of Dundas, and the
disciple of Charles Jenkinson ; and the United States might have
awaited, in a dignified and imposing inactivity, the manifestation of
a different sentiment by the new ministry. But the new leaders of
the House of Representatives were men who soared above, or skim
med below, all considerations of time, place, and circumstance — they
gloried in their ignorance of men and things in Europe, and boasted
that their policy should not be modified by any change in the aspect
of affairs at home, or abroad — and in the pursuit of an abstract me
taphysical ignis fatuus, they did not hesitate to embark the best in
terests of the Union,
Against these measures, Mr. Eandolph further objected, that dur
ing the '¦'¦five months which our ministers had spent in fruitless dis
cussion at Madrid," it had entered into the head of nobody to sug
gest any proposition of a coercive nature in relation to Spain, and
that, even after the total failure of that negotiation, no such measure
had been proposed — that Great Britain had indeed impressed our
seamen, and advanced certain injurious principles of national law,
which, if carried into their full extent, would materially affect our
commerce ; but that Spain, after having refused to make good her
solcjmn stipulations to compensate us for former spoliations commit
ted on our commerce, had '¦^renewed tlie same prractices during the
present war}' She had not, it was true, impressed our seamen, but
her cruisers had '¦'¦plundered and sunk our vessels, and 'maltreated
and abandoned their crews in open boats, or on desert shores, wUhout
food or covering." Her Courts of Admiralty had, indeed, advanced
no " new principles of the law of nations," but they had confiscated
our ships and cargoes, without the pretext of principles of any sort,
new or old. She had, moreover, insulted our territory, violated the
property and the persons of our citizens, within our acknowledged
limits, and insolently rejected every overture to accommodation.
With Spain, all our attempts to negotiate had failed — with Great
Britain, we had a negotiation actually pending, and which the dis
patches of our minister at the Court of London gave us every rea
son to suppose would have a prosperous issue — and even admitting,
for the sake of argument, that our vote of money to purchase Flori-

DIFFICULTIES WITH GREAT BRITAIN, 239
da was, in itself, no derogation from the national honor, inasmuch aa
we proposed to receive a fair equivalent for it, yet, having refused to
take any coercive measures for the unparalleled indignities of Spain,
who had peremptorily rejected all our propositions for pacific accom
modation, how could we, with any face of impartiality towards the
belligerent powers, assume this elevated tone towards Great Britain ?
Mr, Eandolph further declared, that the proposed measure was, in it
self, inefficient to every valuable purpose — that its sole operation
would be to pique the pride and rouse the resentment of our adver
sary, and whilst it indicated a strong spirit of hostility on our part,
would afford her a fair opening to strike the first effectual How — that
it was indeed showing our teeth, without, at the same time, daring to
bite — that Great Britain would have, until the next session of Oon-
gress, ample time to devise means for annoying us in the most effective
manner, and that, meanwhile, she might withdraw her property from
our grasp, and guard every valuable point from our attack. He con
jured the House not to suffer themselves, from the honest prejudices
of the revolution, from their ancient partiality to France, and their
well-grounded antipathy to England, to be legislated into a war,
which would involve the best interests of their country.
Another strong objection to the non-importation bill arose from
its bearing the aspect (especially when taken in conjunction with
our recent conduct towards Spain and France) of a disposition on
our part to aid the views of the French governement in cramping
the navigation and destroying the manufactures of Great Britain.
This constituted one principal source of animosity between those
rival nations, and the American government could perhaps take no
step which would so strongly excite the resentment of the British
ministry. Tho prompt and decisive conduct of that government
towards Prussia, so soon as she manifested a disposition to come
into the views of France on this subject, forms the best commentary
upon this opinion, and the sudden change in the tone of Mr. Fox
towards the United States is no bad criterion of its truth.
When Mr. Eandolph declared, that if any coercive measures
were to be pursued towards Great Britain they should be of the
most energetic stamp, and mentioned an embargo as that which he
deemed the most efficient in the outset, he was asked by some
" why he did not move such a proposition ?" and they declared at

240 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
the same time, that if he would bring forward the measure, they
would support it. To this he answered : That he wished to try the
fair experiment of negotiation in the first instance — that he deemed
it impolitic, pending that negotiation, to take any step that might
defeat it — and that it was astonishing to him, that gentlemen who
had remained entirely passive under the aggressions of Spain, who
had refused even to concur in measures of self-defence against her
inroads — made too after a peremptory rejection of every overture
to accommodation, should advocate an opposite course towards
another power, with whom we were at that moment actually treating.
Mr. Randolph's powerful opposition was so far successful as to
defeat Gregg's resolution, which contemplated a total suspension of
commercial intercourse between the two countries. Another was
introduced, prohibiting only certain enumerated articles of British
manufacture, and passed by a large majority. Eighty-seven re
publicans voted for these restrictive measures, while only eleven
republicans and the whole body of federalists, being but four and
twenty in all voted against them.
The Act passed by Congress, it was said by the friends of it,
was the first leading step in a system of measures well calculated to
awaken England from her delusive dreams ; and that it was
expressly adopted as a measure equally fitted for producing a
change in her conduct, or for standing as a part of our permanent
commercial regulations. Here the reader will observe was the be
ginning of those measures, which if not designedly, indirectly fos
tered the manufactures of the country (by prohibiting importation)
at the expense of its agriculture and commerce.
How far this non-importation scheme of the Legislature was
likely to infiuence the minds of the British Cabinet, may be seen
from the following extract taken from an essay styled " Observations
on Randolph's Speech," and written by the most eminent British
writer of the day, in immediate connection too with the ministry,
and well possessed of their views — ^no less a personage than the au
thor of "War in Disguise," a book that took all Mr. Madison's
learning and abiUty to give a plausible answer to. The author is
expressly recommending to the British minister, to send an envoy to
the American Government to treat for an adjustment of differences.
He concludes thus : " The only objection I can possibly imagine to

DIFFICULTIES WITH GREAT BRITAIN. 241
arise against this expedient is, from the passing of the limited non
importation biU, the fate of which is yet unknown, and which is
represented as containing a clause, making its operation depend
either on the fiat of the executive government, or on that of its
minister in this country ; or, as other accounts intimate, on the bare
event of our refusing immediate compliance with the demands of
the American government,
" Now such a bill either has, or has not been passed by the Con
gress. In the latter case, the difficulty will not arise ; but in the
former, I hesitate not to say, that it makes your compliance, consist
ently with any regard to the dignity and honor of this great nation,
absolutely impossible,
" What ! Is a rod to be put into the hands of a foreign minister,
tc whip us into submission ; and are we broadly and coarsely to
sell our maritime rights, for the sake of passing off a little haber
dashery along with them !
" Are we to make a lumping pennyworth to the buyers of our
leather wares, our felt and tin wares, and the othor commodities
enumerated in this insolent bill, by tossing our honor, our justice,
and our courage also into the parcel ! ! I would not consent to
disparage even the quality of our manufactures, much less of our
public morals, by so shameful a bargain.
" No, sir ! if Mr. Monroe is indeed instructed and empowered to
treat with us in this humiliating style of huckstering diplomacy, a
new reason arises for delay, and for treating beyond the Atlantic.
" Let the threatened prohibition take place. Our hats, our shoes,
and our tea kettles, must find some other market for a few months ;
unless the American merchants should be impatient enough to im
port them by smuggling, into that country, in the mean time ; which,
I doubt not, they will, in a more than usual abundance. Perhaps
when our minister arrives, the advanced price of British goods, and
the loss of the duties upon them, may form an argument of some
weight in our favor."

VOL. L

242 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH

CHAPTEE XXXI (
CLOSING SCENE.
In looking over the House of Representatives of the ninth Congress,
who had devolved on them the important duty of giving the first im
pulse and direction to the policy of the country in regard to foreign
nations, at this critical period, when the powers of Europe, not
content with destroying one another, seemed to be aiming at
the commercial and political annihilation of this transatlantic re
public also, we are struck with the very common and unimportant
characters of which it was composed. There were, doubtless, some
modest and retiring men, of sound judgment, who were content to
give their vote in silence, and to pass their opinions on men and things
around them without giving the world the benefit of their wisdom-
But all those who were most prominent in the lead of affairs, were
without reputation, without political experience or information, the
mere hacks of a party, possessing none of the qualities of head or
heart that constitute the statesman, filled at the same time with all
the narrow conceptions and the intolerance of political bigotry. The
reputation of not one has survived the age in which he lived. The
world is none the wiser for what they have said or done. Their
names, with all their acts, have gone down to oblivion. Such men
require a head to think for them ; without knowledge, or indepen
dence of character, they needed a leader to guide and to instruct them
in their duty. Coming into office under the auspices of Mr. Jeffer
son, his opinion was law to their understanding, his will the harmo
nizing agent to all their actions. The true character of the repre
sentative office, and the delicate relationship existing between that
and the Executive, was beyond their conception ; and they made a
boast and a virtue of their unbounded confidence in the source of ail
power and patronage. In the hands of a virtuous President, these
men were the confiding representatives without question to approve
his measures ; in the hands of a corrupt and ambitious aspirant, they
would have been the subtle tools to enregister his edicts of usur-
pRtion or oppression. Fortunately for the country, Mr. Jefferson

CLOSING SCENE. 248
was a pure patriot and an honest man ; he seemed to have no other
wish but the good of his country. And, perhaps, it was a conscious
ness of this fact that made his followers place such implicit reliance
on the propriety and the wisdom of whatever he did. What is blind
fidelity to the leader of an opposition, will soon be converted into
corrupt adulation to the bountiful dispenser of all honors and re
wards. An honest coincidence of opinion will be the source of alle
giance in the one case ; but a base affinity for the loaves and fishes
will be the means of cohesion in the other. Corruption follows pow
er ; and the rapacious and the profligate, like sharks in the sea, are
sure to swim in the wake of the rich freighted argosy of state.
The proceedings of Congress, in regard to our foreign relations,
furnish a fruitful commentary on the facility with which men- will sur
render their opinions and their consciences into the keeping of a
popular leader ; and the readiness with which bodies of men, in a
corporate capacity, will do an act that would disgrace an individual
of common respectability. As to these foreign afiairs, so complica
ted and so critical, the President had no plan to propose. On this
subject, above all otqprs, he had a right to give a direction to the acts
of the legislature ; the treaty-making power belonged to him and to
the Senate. He did not comply with the Constitution ; he in
formed them of the facts in his possession, but did not recommend
what should be done. He had no well-digested plan, on which he
was willing to stake his reputation as a statesman ; but he stimula
ted the legislature, by an expression of his secret wishes, to do those
things which he was not willing to assume the responsibility of re
commending. This was certainly degrading the representative body
to a menial purpose. But they were wholly unconscious of the part
they were made to aot ; and when the proud and independent spirit
of their leader rose in rebellion, they sought to hunt him down like
some wild beast that had broken into the quiet close of a browsing
herd. But in justice to these men, it must be conceded, that it was
not so much the acts of Mr. Randolph on the Spanish question that
offended them, as the bitter and sarcastic words used by him on all
occasions towards some of those who professed to belong to the same
party, and claimed to be his political friends. It is true, he did not
mince his words, and in the heat of debate, he spoke the plain truth
in strongest terms. There was no diplomatic ambiguity about him;

244 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
and often his blunt directness of expression gave offence where it waa
not intended. But possessing, as he did, a keen insight into the mo
tives of men ; having a high sense of the dignity and purity of the
representative character, and a strong disgust for selfishness and
grovelling meanness in those who should be patterns of truth and
nobleness, he was unsparing in his denunciations of men who, under
tbe guise of republicanism, had crept into official places for no other
purpose but to rob the treasury. And it must be confessed that
there were not a few of this class to be found in all the departments
of government. The Yazoo speculation, Proteus-like, had assumed
every shape by which it could glide into the councils of the nation,
and find favor in the eyes of the people ; it was the dry-rot of the
body politic, that secretly consumed the very joints of its massive
timbers. A member of the President's cabinet, as we already know,
was the Hercules on whose shoulders was upreared this vast fabric
of speculation ; the boundless patronage of his office was prostituted'
to his purposes ; and he insolently boasted of the means that he
used and the triumph he anticipated over the public virtue: There
were many post-office contractors in the House of Representatives ;
the evil had grown to such an extent that Randolph moved an amend
ment to the Constitution, prohibiting all contractors from holding a
seat on the floor of Congress. " I have said, and I repeat it," said
Mr. Eandolph, "that the aspeet in which this thing presents itself,
would alone determine me to resist it. (The Yazoo petitioners.) In
one of the petitioners I behold an executive officer, who receives and
distributes a yearly revenue of three hundred tTiousand dollars,
yielding scarcely any net profit to the government — a patronage
Umited only by the extent of our country. Is this right ? Is it
even decent ? Shall political power be made the engine of private
interest? Shall such a suspicion tarnish your proceedings? How
would you receive a petition from a President of the United States,
if such a case can be supposed possible ? Sir, I wish to see tho same
purity pervading every subordinate branch of administration, which
I am persuaded exists in its great departments. Shall persons hold
ing appointments under the great and good man who presides over
our counsels, draw on the rich fund of his well-earned reputation, to
eke out their fiimsy and scanty pretensions? Is the relation in
which they stand to hira to be made the cloak and cover of their dark

CLOSING SCENE, 245
designs ? To the gentleman from New-York, who takes fire at every
insinuation against his friend, I have only to observe on this subject,
that what I dare say, I dare to justify. To the House I will relate
an incident how far I have lightly conceived or expressed an opinion
to the prejudice of any man. I owe an apology to my informant for
making public what he certainly did not authorize me to reveal.
There is no reparation which can be offered by one gentleman and
accepted by another that I shall not be ready to make him, but I feel
myself already justified to him, since he sees the circumstances under
which I act, A few evenings since a profitable contract for carrying
the mail was offered to a friend of mine, who is a member of this
House, You must know, sir, the person so often alluded to, main
tains a jackal ; fed not, as you would suppose, upon the offal of
contract, but with the fairest pieces in the shambles ; and at night,
when honest men are abed, does this obscene animal prowl through
the streets of this vast and desolate city, seeking whom he may tam
per with. Well, sir, when this worthy plenipotentiary had made his
proposal in due form, the independent man to whom it was addressed.
saw at once its drift. ' Tell your principal,' said he, ' that I will
take his contract, but I shall vote against the Yazoo claim, notwith
standing.' Next day he was told that there had been some misun
derstanding of the business, that he could not have the contract, as
it was previously bespoken by another,
" Sir, I well recollect, when first I had the honor of a seat in this
House, we were then members of a small minority — a poor forlorn
hope — that this very petitioner appeared at Philadelphia on behalf
of another great land company on Lake Erie, He then told us, as
an inducement to vote for the Connecticut reserve (as it was called).
that if that measure failed, it would ruin the republicans and the
cause in that State. You, sir, cannot have forgotten the reply he re
ceived : ' That we did not understand the republicanism that was to
be paid for ; that we feared it was not of the right sort, but spuri
ous.' And having maintained our principles through the ordeal of
that day, shall we now abandon them to act with the men and upon the
measures which we then abjured ? Shall we now condescend to means
which we disdained to use in the most desperate crisis of our polit
ical fortunes ? This is indeed the age of monstrous coalitions ; and
this corruption has the qualities of connecting the most inveterate

246 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
enemies, personal as well as political. It has united in close concert
those, of whom it has been said, not in the figurative language of pro
phecy, but in the sober narrative of history, 'I have bruised thy
head and thou hast bruised my heel,' Such is the description of per
sons who would present to the President of the United States an
act, to which, when he puts his hand, he signs a libel on his whole
political life. But he will never tarnish the unsullied lustre of his
fame ; he will never sanction the monstrous position (for such it is,
dress it up as you will), that a legislator may sell his vote, and a
right which cannot be divested will pass under such sale. Establish
this doctrine, and there is an end of representative government ; from
that moment republicanism receives its death-blow.
" The feeble cry of Virginian influence and ambitious leaders, is
attempted to be raised. If such insinuations were worthy of a reply,
I might appeal to you, Mr. Speaker, for the fact, that no man in this
House (yourself perhaps excepted) is oftener in a minority than I
am. If by a leader be meant one who speaks his opinion frankly and
boldly — who claims something of that independence, of which the
gentleman from New- York so loudly vaunts — who will not connive at
public robbery, be the robbers who they may, — then the imputation
may be just ; such is the nature of my ambition : but in the common
acceptation of words, nothing can be more false. In the coarse but
strong language of the proverb, ' 'tis the still sow that sucks the
draff' " No, sir, we are not the leaders. There they sit ! and well they
know it, forcing down our throats the most obnoxious measures
Gentlemen may be silent, but they shall be dragged into public view.
If they direct our public counsels^ at least let them answer "for the
result. We will not be responsible for their measures. If we do
not hold the reins, we will not be accountable for the accidents which
may befall the carriage.
" But, sir, I am a denunciator ! Of whom? Of the gentlemen on
my left ? Not at all ; but of those men and their principles whom
the people themselves have denounced ; on whom they have burnt
their indelible curse, deep and lasting as the lightning from heaven.
" Mr. Speaker, I had hoped that we should not be content to live
upon the principal of our popularity, that we should go on to deserve
the public confidence, and the disapprobation of the gentleman over

CLOSING SCENE, 247
the way ; but if every thing is to be reversed — if official influence is
to become the handmaid of private interest — if the old system is to
be revived with the old men, or any that can be picked up, — I may
deplore the defection, but never will cease to stigmatize it Never
shall I hesitate between any minority, far less that in which I find
myself, and such a majority as is opposed to us. I took my degrees,
sir, in this House in a minority, much smaller, indeed, but of the
same stamp : a minority, whose very act bore the test of rigorous
principle, and with them to the last I will exclaim, Fiat justitia ruat
ccelum.'" It is too plainly to be perceived, that a man of this be Id, fearless,
and independent character, was not to be tolerated by those who, in
their connection with the government, had far other objects in view
t^an pure principle or patriotism ; or even by those honest plodding
men, whose blundering mediocrity was awed and overshadowed by his
superior genius. He must be put down ; the fiut, we know, had
already gone forth. Whole States had been traversed last summer
to organize an opposition to him; he must be silenced, or driven into
the ranks of the federalists, and then nobody will believe what he
says. The plot was now ripe for execution : like C»sar, he was to
fall on the fioor of the Senate by the hands of his treacherous friends.
The evening of the 21st of April, on the final adjournment of the
House, was selected as the time — that parting hour, usually given up
to hilarity, to friendship, and an oblivious forgetfulness of all past
animosities, was chosen as the fit occasion to stab to the heart one
who should have been their pride and their ornament — one, whos4
only crime was, not that of having conspired against the liberties of
his country, but that of having spoken the truth, and maintained
right. Alas ! for the virtue and the liberties of mankind. This
has most usually been the crime they have ignorantly pursued and
punished. Corruption opens a path where truth finds an impassable
barrier. As the shades of night were gathering over the legislative hall,
while the dim light of the taper served only to make darkness visible,
the conspirators, each with his part well conned and prepared, com
menced the assault on their unsuspecting victim, who sat as a confiding
friend in their midst.
Mr. William Findley, a member from Pennsylvania, rose and ad-

248 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
dressed the House, without provocation, in a strain of gross and inde
cent personal abuse of Mr. Eandolph, charging him with having
designs to pull down the present administration. It was plainly to
be perceived, from the language and manner of Findley, that he was
at this time very much intoxicated with strong drink ; and many of
the members then present declared the same opinion. Mr. Findley
was so outrageously indecent in his language, that he was repeatedly
called to order ; but, without regarding the call, he continued to
speak in the same strain, until the House was thrown into a state of
confusion, perhaps never before witnessed.
As soon as Findley sat down, John Eandolph rose, and without
taking partieular notice of the conduct of the unfortunate old man,
observed, in a manner the most mild, dignified and conciliatory, that
" he had hoped, however we might have differed in opinion on the vj,-
rious siibjects discussed this session, we should, on the eve of separa
tion, have forgiven and forgotten any asperities and political animos
ities that had occurred during the session ; and that we should have
parted like men and friends. He had hoped the harmony of that
House would not have been disturbed in the last moments of the ses
sion, either by those who -had been habitual declaimers, or by those
who had kept the noiseless tenor of their way ; that contumely and
personal hatred would have been banished from these walls, and that
we should at least have separated in good humor." These remarks
produced a gleam of pleasure on the countenance of almost every per
son present. The language he used and the sentiments he expressed
were so mild and conciliatory, that Mr. Eandolph's friends were par
ticularly delighted. Although there was nothing in his language or
manner that would justify in the smallest degree an idea that he in
tended to make any particular or personal allusion, yet the attention
of every member then present was immediately directed to Mr.
Thomas Mann Eandolph, the President's son-in-law, who, under the
impression that John Eandolph had made some allusion to him
(which no person present but himself could have supposed), rose, and
in a manner indicative of rage and defiance, vociferated :
" Mr. Speaker, I rise to reply to the gentleman from Virginia. I
will not pretend to vie with him in point of talent or of eloquence ;
in these he is far, very far, my superior. This is not the first time
that gentleman has availed hknself of the sanction and the presence

CLOSING SCENE. 249
of this assembly, to apply his personal allusions to me, and to make
use of language and conduct here, which he would not do out of this
House. " But, sir, I will tell that gentleman, that however he may be my
superior in talents and eloquence, in patriotism I am his superior ;
yes, sir, his superior. Last year, sir, that gentleman commenced flor
ist, and dealt in flowers and gardening ; I saw him with his spade
and pitchfork, and rake and manure, cultivating his flower-garden.
This, sir, was on the Yazoo question ; and then I perceived the gen
tleman launch forth to sea, without compass or rudder, his masts
broken, his sails tattered and torn, and his vessel i:i a leaky condi
tion ; and, when I saw that, sir, I thought it h.gh time to quit him,
and look out for the land. The gentleman can talk and boast of the
arguments of lead, and powder, and steel ; with these arguments, sir,
I am as expert as himself, and as willing as he may be to use them."
Mr. Thomas Mann Eandolph possessed as quick and as fiery a
temper as his kinsman ; but it is impossible to conceive any motive
: for the anger, rage, and threatening denunciation exhibited on thiis
occasion, unless it was premeditated, and the deliberate part of a con-
I certed scheme to immolate John Eandolph on the altar of party in
tolerance, for having dared to differ from them as to what they chose
' to assume and hold forth as the wishes of the Executive. This gen
tleman had taken no part in the previous debate, and it is impossible
that ary allusion could have been made to him. As he progressed,
towering in rage, astonishment and regret were exhibited in the looks
and expressions of the members. This speech had the most strange
and alarming effect. The atmosphere seemed to be surcharged with
electric fire, and another spark would blow it into a flame.
Coming from the quarter it did, and under existing circumstances,
this denunciation excited in the minds of a great part of those pres
ent, sentiments of the most serious nature. Where this thing might
end, they could not conjecture, but felt the most anxious apprehen
sion. That Eandolph was to be denounced on this occasion by all
the self-anointed priests of the true faith, and to be cast out of the
synagogue, cannot be questioned. The moment Thomas Mann took
his seat, he was followed by James Sloan, of New Jersey, who read
a speech of about two sheets, closely written, and then delivered it
over into the hands of the printer, who was present to receive it, and
11*

250 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
to publish it Eandolph had not been sparing in his ridicule of the
Crude conceptions of this man, put forth in a series of resolutions on
the great and grave questions about which the administration itself
had no settled opinion. He called the nostrums of this man
" Sloan's mint-drops}' Now was the time for revenge — when the
whole pack was in full cry, and the noble stag at bay, he could
slyly thrust his fangs into his side with impunity. But Eandolph
did not wait to hear this well-studied lecture, which for false asser
tions, low scurrility, and personal abuse, cannot be surpassed. If he
heard it at all, it fell senseless on his ears. He was after other
game. A few minutes after T. M. Eandolph closed his remarks,
John Randolph left his seat, and desired Mr. Garnett to make a for
mal appUcation to know whether the remarks that had fallen from
that gentleman were addressed to him, and unless he disavowed any
such intention, to demand a meeting. Mr. Garnett seemed deeply
concerned at this request, and endeavored to dissuade his friend from
the step. Eandolph repUed, that his resolution was irrevocably
taken ; that, perhaps, on the whole, he had cause to be obliged to Mr.
Thomas Mann Randolph ; that he had long been a target for every
worthless scoundrel in that House to aim his shafts at ; and that Mr.
T. M. Randolph, by this unprovoked and studied outrage, had given
him an opportunity to answer them all, in the person of an adversary
who would not disgrace his contest, and under circumstances in
which no possible blame could attach to him. Mr. T. M. Randolph
replied to Mr. Garnett, that unless he had supposed some of Mr.
John Eandolph's expressions pointed particularly at him, he should
have thought himself highly culpable in saying what he had ; but
believing that they were intended for him, he felt himself called upon
to say something.
Having acknowledged that his observations were levelled at Mr
John Eandolph, he was told that that gentleman expected to meet
him. He replied that he was ready to do so ; but that if Mr. John
Eandolph would only say that he meant no allusion to him,* there waa
no apology which a man of honor could or ought to make, which he
would not be ready to offer. When Mr, Garnett delivered this mes
sage, Mr, John Eandolph observed that the course which Mr, T. M.
Eandolph had chosen to pursue precluded any sort of declaration
or acknowledgment on his part ; that Mr. T. M. E. must make repa-

CLOSING SCENE 251
ration commensurate with the injury aimed at his feelings, or meet
him, and give him satisfaction. Mr. Garnett immediately apprised
the gentleman of these conditions, and requested that he would choose
some friend with whom he might have farther conversation on the
subject Mr. Coles was called in ; after a short consultation aside with
his friend, he rejoined Mr. Garnett, and said: All that Mr. T. M. E,
desired was an assurance that none of Mr. J. E.'s remarks were in
tended for him, and that he would be willing (in that case) to make
any apology a man of honor could offer. Mr. Garnett replied, that
there was no doubt on his mind, or, he believed, of any other specta
tor, that Mr. T, M. E. had entirely misconceived Mr. J, E.'s expres
sions; but that, after what had passed, Mr. J. E, would make no
statement whatever; and if Mr. T. M, E. could not reconcile it to him
self to make a suitable apology, Mr. J. E. would expect Mr, T. M.
R. to meet him either that night (which he preferred) or in the morn
ing. Mr. Coles said he was too much engaged in the public busi
ness at that time to see his friend, but would do it as soon as he could,
and let Mr. Garnett know the result. Mr. Garnett returned with
this statement to Mr. John Randolph, who was in a remote room of
the Capitol, and then took his seat in the House. In a few minutes
afterwards, Mr. Thomas Mann Randolph rose in his place, and said
that he had been assured, by several of those who sat near him, that
he had acted in what he had before said under a misapprehension of
Mr. John Eandolph's remarks, which none of them understood as
having been intended for him ; that under this misapprehension he
had acted ; it was the sole cause of his saying what he had said ;
and that he was then persuaded by the assurance of his friends of
his mistake. He regretted very much what he had said, for he had
no disposition to wound any gentleman's feelings who did not intend
to wound his.
Mr. Garnett immediately went to Mr. John Eandolph, and stated
that Mr. T. M. R. had made such an apology in the House as Mr.
Garnett conceived, and as every member said who mentioned the sub
ject in his hearing (which several did) was proper for Mr. T. M, R.
to make and for Mr. J, E, to receive.
Mr Eandolph then requested his friend to say to Mr. Coles that
he received the apology of Mr T, M. Eandolph, and had no further
commands for that gentleman, which Mr. Garnett did just as the
House was breaking up ; and thus the business terminated.

252 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
CHAPTEE XXXII,
.AAEON BUEE,
Misfortunes, 'tis said, come not alone ; it proved so with Mr,
Eandolph on this occasion, In his retirement at Bizarre, after the
stormy session just passed, and other occurrences of a domestic na
ture, his reflections could not have been of the most pleasant kind.
However conscious of rectitude, the prospect before him must have
been cheerless indeed. For four years he had been the popular lead
er of a triumphant party, who were successfully carrying into opera
tion those great measures of reform that would bring back the Federal
Government to the few simple and general subjects of legislation for
which alone it was designed. Never had a young man risen so ra
pidly or so high in the public estimation. He was the idol of his
party ; his eloquence and his practical wisdom were extolled on
every hand ; and it seemed that there was no station or honor in the
gift of the people that he was not destined to attain. But now the
scene was changed. For having ventured to suggest a plan of action
different from that which seemed to be favored by the Executive, he
was denounced by his old friends, his motives calumniated, and he
was charged with a design of pulling down the present administra
tion. How bitter must have been his feelings, at the reflection that
the highest stretch of patriotism, which could cause a sacrifice of all
the bright prospects before him for the sake of doing his duty, should
meet with such a reward. But it has always been so. In popular
governments, the intolerant spirit of a triumphant majority will al
low no deviation from that standard of orthodoxy which it has set Up
for itself Freedom of opinion is professed, but you exercise it at
the peril of being banished from the society of those who hold the
reins and prescribe the course that ought to be pursued. There are
so many interested in degrading a popular and leading man in a po
litical party, that it is almost impossible for him ever to retrieve the
first false step. It matters not how pure his motives, or how far it
may be from his intention to separate from his party friends, yet
there are always enough, from interested motives, to take advantage

AARON BURR, 253
of the slightest deviation from the standard of the majority, to de
nounce him as a deserter, and to drive him into the opposition. Politi
cians, generally, are a heartless and selfish race of men. There are
many honorable exceptions ; but for the most part, their own aggran
dizement is the end of their patriotism ; and they always look with
secret satisfaction on the disappointment or the fall of one whose su
perior talents overshadowed their own self-importance, or whose stern
virtues and integrity stood in the way of the accomplishment of their
selfish ends.
Mr. Eandolph never deviated from those principles he professed,
while in a minority ; his party, in many instances, had departed from
them ; he undertook the ungracious task of holding up to view their
own dereliction. Sovereign majorities, as well as sovereign princes,
do not like to hear their own infallibility brought in question — espe
cially will they not tolerate it in one who is a subject of their power.
Mr. Randolph had no faith in the Cabinet, while he retained the ut
most confidence in the Chief Magistrate. He knew that corruption
had crept into the legislature, through the Post Office department
and the Yazoo speculation, and that, as a body, they had surrender(-d
their independence into the hands of the Executive. His great
crime was that of maintaining the independence of the legislature, as
a co-ordinate department of government. Let posterity judge how
far he should be condemned for such an offence.
During the excited and sleepless hours of the past session, Mr.
Randolph was assailed by his old hereditary disease, in its most ag
gravated form — he was prostrate on his bed for many weeks, racked
with the most excruciating torture. With repeated accumulation of
mental distress, and even of mental agony, caused by domestic occurren
ces, the diseases of the 1 ody seemed to keep pace with them, and to pro
duce a degree of suffering such as no mortal man ever endured before.
With heroic fortitude, he suppressed his feelings, and the world,
while they condemned his outbursts of passion, never knew the real
cause of his eccentricities. With a pride and a haughty reserve
rarely equalled, he shut himself up from common observation, and was
content to be the subject of misrepresentation and of malicious cal
umny, without condescending to explanation or reply. To a few
only did he unbosom himself, and expose the wounds of body and
of soul, which he carried, with increased aggravation, to the grave.

254 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Hereafter, the reader will have an opportunity of reading his con
fessions, poured into the bosom of his most intimate friend, and to
weep over the many sufferings he endured, in what he chose to call
his " most unprosperous Ufe."
But there was one occurrence, which took place in the month of
March, that affected Mr. Randolph more than all things else. The
reader is already aware of the great attachment he had formed,
many years ago, to a young lady of remarkable beauty, virtues,
and accomplishments — one I loved more than my own soul, or tM
God that made it. Many untoward events had prevented their
union, and made it impossible — yet he vainly cherished jhe hope that
their love, sublimated into a pure, Platonic affection, might last to the
end of life — idle expectation, that no other human being could have
indulged. There was no reason in the indulgence of such a wish ;
but love is blind, tyrannical, and has no reason. The lady thought
proper to unite her fortunes with one in whose society she might hope
to live a more happy life, than in that of her present most devoted
but unfortunate lover. This event, which took place in the midst of
the excited debates of Congress, and at a moment when his friends
were deserting him on every hand, struck deep into the heart of Mr.
Randolph — he never recovered from it — it had a visible infiuence on
the whole of his after life. His love, now purified of all earthly
desire, became a genuine worship — the image of the beloved object,
mirrored in the distance, hovered over his path, like some angelic be
ing, whose celestial smiles shed benignest influence on his heart,
where all else had grown cold and desolate. Long years afterwards,
when the body was locked in the fitful emlSraces of a feverish sleep,
and the soul wandering in dreams, that once loved name has been
heard to escape from his lips, in a tone that evinced how deeply the
love of the being who bore it had been engraven on the inmost
sanctuary of his heart. But why do we call up these things ? Read
er I there was a tragedy in the life of this man, more thrilling than
romance. But this is a subject not for us to deal with ; we promised
not to touch it more ; let it go down to the oblivion of the grave,
and there sleep with those who, in life, endured its agonies. We ask
pardon for having glanced at it here, and for the last time, because it
is impossible to form a correct estimate of the man, without some
knowledge of this occurrence, which constituted one of the most im-

AARON BURR, 256
portant events of his life. Let the skeptical look into his own heart,
and see whether he is capable of elevating his affections above a mere
sensual appetite. If not, then he is no fit judge of that man, whose ex
alted passion, rising above all earthly desire, knows no other bounds but
the infinite longing of an immortal soul.
Let us now proceed with our narrative.
Notwithstanding the harsh and unfriendly manner in which he
had been treated, Mr. Randolph returned to Washington in Decem
ber, with every disposition to harmonize and co-operate with the re
publican party. His difference from them last session, was on a
question of mere expediency — the propriety of which time alone could
prove. Unless they intended to abandon, in the conduct of affairs,
all the principles they professed while in a minority, it was impossi
ble for him to co-operate with any other body of men. However
much he might be irritated in his feelings towards certain individuals,
he did not allow that circumstance so far to influence his judgment as
to cause him to vote for or against a measure merely to be in op
position to them. Accordingly we find him, on most occasions, work
ing in harmony with the friends of the administration ; and there
seems to have been a good feeling restored between him and some of
the leading members. It is true, there was no important question
on which there was likely to be a diversity of sentiment. The non
importation law, by the terms of its enactment, was not to go into
operation till the last of November ; and now that the time had
Arrived, it was proposed, on the part of its friends, to postpone it to
a still later period. It was alleged that the British commissioners
desired not a repeal, but a postponement merely, while negotiations
were pending between the two countries. Of course Mr. Randolph
readily united with them in this measure ; and it is not surprising
that he took occasion to intimate that, iin his judgment, time had
proved the impolicy and inefficiency of the original enactment. But
the only question of any importance to which their attention was
called, during the last session of the ninth Congress, was the con
spiracy of Aaron Burr. After his bitter disappointments, both on
the national theatre and in New-York, his adopted State — after the
sudden and irretrievable fall of this ambitious man, and when the
cold eye of neglect had chilled, like a frost, the last spark of patriot
ism in the breast of this legalized murderer, he had gone into the

256 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
great Mississippi Valley, in search of some adventure adequate to hia
genius and his ambition. Here, indeed, was a vast field for enter
prise — abundant material for any undertaking that might require
perseverance, privation, and heroic daring — there was also a little
discontent in the popular mind, in some parts of the West, which
might have inspired a less sanguine man than Aaron Burr with hopes
of tampering with their patriotism.
Soon rumors came that this man was planning and organizing
some vast expedition, the precise object of which was the subject only
of conjecture. Whether it was his design to make war on the
Spanish province of Mexico, or whether, in co-operation with Spain
he was aiding her in the long cherished scheme of separating the
western country from the United States, none could tell; but all
agreed that the genius and the resources of the chief director of the
enterprise were adequate to any desperate adventure, whether of
foreign aggression or domestic treason.
The Executive was soon apprised of the state of things, and were
endeavoring to get all the information they could in regard to the
matter. But the newspapers were so full of rumors and statements,
implicating the Spanish Government as the prime mover of this con
spiracy, that Mr, Randolph, after having waited five or six weeks for
official intelligence, at length moved a resolution to call on the Presi
dent for information. We give his speech entire on this occasion, as
it shows his views of the Spanish question twelve months after his
separation from the administration on that subject.
" In the President's Message," said Mr. Randolph, " at the com
mencement of the session, he announced to us as follows :
'" Having received information, that in another part of the United
States a great number of private individuals were combining toge
ther, arming and organizing themselves, contrary to law, to carry on
a military expedition against the territories of Spain, I thought it
necessary, by proclamation, as well as by special orders, to take mea
sures for preventing and suppressing this enterprise, for seizing the
vessels, arms, and other means provided for it, and for arresting and
bringing to justice its authors and abettors,'
" So long," said Mr, Randolph, " as the illegal movements of these
persons were supposed to be directed against a foreign nation,
ilthough the interest of the United States, and their honor too.

AARON BURR. 257
required that prompt and decisive measures should be taken for sup
pressing their designs, yet I believe there is no gentleman in this
House but will agree with me in the opinion that the United States,
and this House in particular, could not feel so deep and lively an in
terest against a conspiracy of that kind as against one for the subver
sion of the Union, and perhaps of the liberties of those who compose
it, I have waited with anxious solicitude for some information in
relation to this subject, that might be depended upon — for some
official information, I contented myself for a long time with the
belief, inasmuch as no information had been given to the House,
that there were imperious reasons connected with the public welfare
which forbade a disclosure ; but the aspect which affairs have taken
on the Mississippi is such, that I can no longer reconcile it to my
sense of duty, as the independent representative of an independent
people, to rest satisfied in that state of supineness and apathy in
Iwhich the House has been satisfied to remain for the six or seven
weeks past. Sir, from the information I have been able to collect —
and it is such that I am obliged to place great if not implicit reliance
on it — ^it does appear to me, that if the government of Spain is in
any wise connected in these measures, it is concerned not as the de
fendant, but as the plaintiff — as the aggressing party, and not as the
party on whom the aggression is made. So long as I was induced to
believe, that by withholding correct information from the Legislature
the substantial interests of the nation would be more essentially sub
served than by laying it before them, so long, though not without
reluctance, I acquiesced in its being withheld. But from the hostile
appearances on the Mississippi, it seems to me that the state of things
is such as requires the most prompt and efficacious measures for
securing the Union. The bubble is said to have burst, and there no
longer remains any reason why the information in the possession of
the Executive ought to be withheld. But to guard against all pos
sible objection, I have endeavored so to frame the motion as to do
away with any objection arising from this consideration. It does
appear — from the newspapers it is true, but under a much higher sanc
tion than is generally attached to information received through such a
channel — it does appear in evidence, under the sanction of an exami
nation before the legislature of Kentucky, that ever since the peace
of 1783, Spain has incessantly labored to detach the western people

258 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH,
from the Union ; that subsequently to the peace of San Lorenzo she
has carried on intrigues, and in the most faithless manner withheld
acceding to its stipulations, in order to excite a spirit in the western
country subversive of the Union ; that she subsequently made a pro
position of the most flagitious kind to several leading characters in
Kentucky, and as I believe elsewhere. It seems, indeed, that she has
never lost sight of this object; and I believe she never will lose
sight of it so long as she shall find materials to work upon, or a sha
dow of hope that she will succeed. It appears to me that she has
found those materials ; that they are of the most dangerous nature ;
that they are now in operation ; and that, perhaps, at this moment,
while I am addressing you, at least for a time, the fate of the West
ern country may have been decided.
" Sir, this subject offers strong arguments, in addition to the nume
rous reasons offered at the present session of Congress, to justify the
policy avowed by certain gentlemen during the last session, so highly
condemned : and if I am correctly informed, the other branch of
the Legislature are now acting on that policy so condemned and
despised. " We have had a bill before us authorizing the President to accept
volunteers, A member of the committee with whom this bill origi
nated, and with whom I have the pleasure of concurring, intimately
connected and • domesticated with the Secretary of War, did make a
proposition before that committee, substantially the same with that
rejected the last session — to augment the military forces to meet the
pressing exigencies of the times ; and which I presume must have
had the sanction of that officer. Is there a man in this House who
at this day doubts, .that if the Government — I mean the Executive
and Legislature — had taken a manly and decisive attitude towards
Spain, and instead of pen, ink, and paper, had given men and arms —
is there a man who disbelieves that not only Spain would have been
overawed, but that those domestic traitors also would have been in
timidated and overawed, whose plans threaten to be so dangerous ?
Would any man have dreamed of descending the Mississippi at the
head of an unprincipled banditti, if New Orleans had been fortified,
and strong fortifications erected in its neighborhood ? What did we
then hear ? Money ! dollars and cents ! Is there not now every
reason to believe, especially when we consider the superintendence

AARON BURR. 259
under which the expenses are incurred, that the saving of the cam
paign on the Sabine, and the saving of the costly measures taken by
the commander-in-ehief on his own responsibiUty, would have been
equal to the expense of raising and maintaining for one year the
additional forces proposed at the last session to be raised. There
can be no doubt, but that on the piinciple of economy, without
taking into view the effect on the Union, the United States would
have been gainers. A spectator, not in the habit of reading our pub
lic prints, or of conversing with individuals out of doors, but who
should draw big ideas of the situation of the country from the pro
ceedings of this House during the present session, would be led to
infer that there never existed in any nation a greater degree of peace,
tranquillity, or union, at home or abroad, than in the United States
at this time ; and yet, what is the fact ? That the United States are
not only threatened with external war, but with conspiracies and
treasons, the more alarming from* their not being defined. And yet
we sit, and adjourn ; adjourn, and sit ; take things as schoolboys,
do as we are bid, and ask no questions. I cannot reconcile this line
of conduct to my ideas of the duty of a member on this floor. Yes,
the youngest member of the federal family has been found to be the
first to ward off the impending danger, while the eldest members are
sleeping, snoring, and dozing over their liberties at home.
Under this view of the subject, I beg leave to offer the following
resolution :
" Eesolved — That the President of the United States be and he
is hereby requested to lay before this House any information jn pos
session of the Executive, except such as he may deem the public wel
fare to require not to be disclosed, touching any illegal combination
of private individuals against the peace and safety of the Union, or
any military expedition planned by such individuals against the ter
ritories of any power in amity with the United States ; together with
the measures which the Executive has pursued and proposes to take
for suppressing or defeating the same.''
The' resolution was carried by a large majority. As more authen
tic news came of the designs and actual movements of the conspira
tors, the country became still more alarmed ; every one of discern
ment saw the danger of this enterprise ; they knew the combustible
materials that artful intriguer had to work upon, and oould readily

260 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
perceive how he might take advantage of the unfriendly relations
existing between the United States and Spain, and by the secret aid,
if not the open co-operation of that discontented power, effect a dis
memberment of the Union.
The Senate, in their alarm, went so far as to suspend the " Ha
beas Corpus Act," which is never resorted to except in extreme cases
of danger to the peace and integrity of the country. This act of sus
pension was arrested in the House. Mr. Eandolph was most active
and efficient in his opposition : he denounced it as unnecessary, oppres
sive, and tyrannical. Most fortunately it was rejected by the House,
and can never be set up as a precedent.
Aaron Burr, it is well known, was arrested in Alabama, and
brought to trial in Virginia, on the ground that he had levied his
forces and commenced his treasonable acts within the borders of that
State. The trial took place in the city of Eichmond, in the month
of May, 1807 ; it excited a great deal of interest, and brought toge
ther many of the most distinguished men of the Union. John Ean
dolph . was foreman of the grand jury that brought in a true bill
against Aaron Burr of high treason against his country. It is not
our purpose to go into the details of this trial, or the incidents of the
conspiracy : theybelong to the general histprian, and must form an
interesting and important chapter in the history of those criticil and
eventful times.
During his sojourn in Eichmond on this occasion, Mr, Eandolph
formed many new and valuable acquaintances, Mr. Wirt was at this
time collecting materials for his Life of Patrick Henry. He was
conversing one day on that subject in a company of gentlemen, when
Mr Tazewell, who was present, said to him : " Mr. Wirt, you should,
by all means, see John Eandolph on that subject ; he knows more
of Patrick Henry than any other man now living." Mr. Wirt con
fessed that he was not personally acquainted with that gentleman.
The difficulty was, how to bring them together ; for Tazewell said it
would not do to make a formal introduction, and say, " This is Mr.
Wirt, sir, who is desirous of obtaining from you some materials for
his Life of Henry. In that case Eandolph would not open his lips.
However," said he, " I will contrive a meeting," In a few days Mr,
Wirt was invited to Tazewell's room, where he found Eandolph and
other gentlemen assembled. Very soon, in the course of conversa

AARON BURR. 261
tion, as if by accident, the name of Patrick Henry was mentioned.
Eandolph immediately caught up the theme, and delighted the
company with a graphic account of his personal appearance, his
habits, and his eloquence. He frequently rose from his seat, and
repeated passages from the speeches, and imitated the peculiar style
and fervid manner of the renowned orator. Wirt was so much
pleased, that when he retired he wrote a note to Mr. Eandolph,
thanking him for the rich treat he had given him, and begging that
he would put down in writing the substance of what he had
said, Eandolph now saw the trick that was played upon him. He
immediately went to his friend Tazewell, and chided him soundly for
having made an exhibition of him in that way. Tazewell turned it
off as a pleasant joke ; nevertheless, the biographer of Patrick Henry
never got from that quarter any additional materials for the subject
of his memoir. It was on this occasion also that Mr, Eandolph first
made the acquaintance of Dr. John Brockenbrough, who from that
time to the day of his death was the most intimate friend of his bo
som — -the friend to whom he daily unfolded without reserve or fear
of exposure the inmost thoughts and feelings of his heart. The doe-
tor was a member of the grand jury, and the acquaintance commenced
in a way peculiar to John Randolph. " I did not seek his acquaint
ance," says the doctor, " because it had been impressed on my mind
that he was a man of a wayward and irritable temper ; but as he knew
that I had been a school-fellow of his brothers, Richard and The-
odoric (while he was in Bermuda for the benefit of his health) ho
very courteously made advances to me to converse about his brothers,
to whom he had been much devoted, and ever afterwards I found him
a steady and confiding friend. He frequently passed much of hia
time at my house, and was the most agreeable and interesting inmate
you can imagine. No little personal attention was ever lost on him,
and he rendered himself peculiarly a favorite with my wife by his
conversation on belles-lettres, in which he was so well versed ; and he
read (in which he excelled) to her very many of the choice passages of
Milton and Shakspeare. Mr, Randolph also had another remarkable
quality, irritable and sensitive as he was ; when alone with a friend
he would not only bear with patience, but would invite a full expres
sion of his friend's opinion on his conduct, or acts and sentiments,
©n any subject, either private or public."

262 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
CHAPTEE XXXIII,
EMBARGO — THE ILIAD OF ALL OUE WOES.
By Jay's treaty of 1794, our difficulties with Great Britaini
though not settled, were quieted for the time being ; while in conse
quence of the same cause we were nearly involved in an open rup
ture with France.
The change of administration and the convention with France
in 1800 restored a more friendly feeling between the two repub
lics — and the purchase of Louisiana in 1803 was accomplished with
more ease than Mr. Jefferson himself _could have expected. Our
commerce for the first four years of the new administratioL was
exceedingly prosperous — and the management of our domestic
afiiairs was conducted on strictly republican principles. Had peace
continued in Europe during the remainder of his term, Mr. Jeffer
son's would have been a most brilliant and successful career. But
after the rupture of the treaty of Amiens and the renewal of hos
tilities between the great belligerent powers, an unfavoralle change
took place in our foreign relations.
By a series of extraordinary victories. Great Britain had annihi
lated the combined fleets of France, Spain and Holland, and made
herself undisputed mistress of the sea. The trade between these
countries and their colonies, their navies being destroyed, was now
for the first time opened to foreign bottoms. The United States
were the only people that could avail themselves of this advantage.
Their commercial marine in consequence was greatly enlarged, and
commerce itself was more than ever expanded and prosperous.
But England soon perceived that so long as this kind of traffic
was permitted she would derive no advantage from her naval victo
ries. She commenced a series of measures to put an end to it.
Bonaparte, in the mean time, having elevated himself to the
imperial throne of France, had conquered nearly all Europe,
driven the Russian bear back into his polar regions, and was now
seriously contemplating the destruction of England as the only
barrier in the way of universal conquest. But sad experience had

EMBARGO. 263
taught him that the only way in which he could reach that sea-girt
empire was through her manufactures and commerce. His restric
tive system on the continent was designed to sap and undermine
these two sources of English wealth and power. In their gigantic
efforts to destroy each other, these great belligerents paid no respect
to neutral rights or to the laws of nations — might became right, and
Robin Hood's law of the strongest was the only available rule.
Whatever could affect the other injuriously was unhesitatingly
adopted without regard to the effect it might have on the rights of
neutral parties. They even resolved there should be no neutrals in
the contest ; and as the United States were the only independent
power left, this warfare on their commerce was intended to force
them into the controversy on the one side or the other.
The first act of hostility was commenced by Great Britain on the
16th May, 1806 : the British government, by an order of the King in
council, decreed that all the rivers and ports from Brest to the Elbe
(being about a thousand miles of sea-coast) should be considered in
a state of blockade. Where a port is actually blockaded by an
adequate force, any vessel attempting to enter is liable to be captur
ed by the besieging squadron, and to be condemned as lawful prize.
But where no fleet was stationed on the prohibited coast, and the
blockade merely consisted in a decree of the government, all vessels
laden or sailing for the ports decreed to be in a state of siege, were
liable to be captured and condemned wherever found. This was re
garded as a gross violation of neutral rights ; and on the 21st
November, Bonaparte commenced his acts of retaliation. After charg
ing England with disregarding the law of nations and the rights of
neutrality, and with declaring places in a state of blockade before
which she had not a ship, he declared all the British Isles in a
state of blockade, and prohibited all trade and commerce with
them. He provided also in the decree (Berlin decree) for the cap
ture and condemnation of English produce and manufactures, and
prohibited all neutral ships coming direct from England or the
English colonies, or* having been there, from entering the ports of
France. By this decree all commerce between England and the conti
nent and between the United States and England was intended to
be cut off. Any neutral vessel (and there were none but those be-

264 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
longing to citizens of the United States) sailing for England, or
from an Edglish port to the continent, was subject to capture and
condemnation. The French minister, in consequence of a remon
strance on the part of the United States, gave it as his opinion, that
the decree of blockade would be so qualified by the existing treaty
as not to operate on American commerce. Not much respect, how
ever, was paid to this opinion by French cruisers; and in September
1807 the decree was ordered to be fully enforced against all neutrals,
In the mean time a negotiation was going on between the com
missioners of England and the United States. On the 30th oi
December, 1806, a treaty was signed settling amicably, if not satis
factorily, all the difficulties between the two nations. But Bona
parte's Berlin decree having come to their knowledge, the British
commissioners, in a note delivered by order of the King, declared to
the American commissioners, that if France should execute that
decree, and the United States acquiesce in it, the British govern
ment would hold themselves discharged from the treaty and issue
retaliatory orders against neutral commerce with France. Had the
treaty been ratified on that condition, it would have pledged the
United States to such a co-operation with Great Britain against
France, as must have ended in hostilities with the one and alliance
with the other. This was the object of England — but Mr. Jefferson
was determined if possible to continue in his position of neutrality.
The treaty was received before the adjournment of Congress, the 4th
March, 1807 ; but he boldly suppressed it, and would not even sub
mit it to the Senate for their consideration. He remembered too
well the effect of Jay's treaty on the public mind to venture one
himself A total surrender \)f all her claims by Great Britain at that
time would not have been acceptable, because it would have forced
the United States into an alliance with England, contrary to the
popular sentiment, which was decidedly in favor of the French cause.
In times of peace that treaty would have been favorably received
but under existing circumstances, the President had no intention of
suffering himself to be treaty-foundered as his predecessors had been.
Mr, Monroe, the principal negotiator, was much offended at the
rejection or rather unceremonious suppression of his treaty ; he had
hoped to gain much credit by this act of pacification.
In the mean time the affair of the Chesapeake took place, which

EMBARGO. 265
greatly inflamed the public mind. A British squadron it seems was
lying near the mouth of Hampton Roads, in Lynnhaven Bay ; sev
eral sailors deserted and took refuge on board the American frigate
Chesapeake, then in the port of Norfolk, fitting out for sea, the sail
ors were demanded, but were refused to be given up on the ground
that they were American citizens. As the Chesapeake, on her des
tined voyage, passed out of the Capes, she was followed by a Brit
ish vessel detached from the squadron for that purpose ; so soon as
the Chesapeake got out of neutral waters into the ocean, she was
fired upon, her hull and rigging were much injured and several per
sons were killed ; she was boarded, the sailors recaptured, and some
of them were put to death. This gross outrage, though unauthor
ized and disavowed by the government, had an unhappy effect on the
public mind in the United States, A spirit of revenge seized vhe
people ; and although England sent over a special minister to settle
the difficulty, a slight punctilio in the forms and etiquette of diplomacy
was seized upon as a pretext to prevent any advancements or ex
planations on the part of the British envoy.
' Such was the situation of affairs, when, on the 1 1th of November,
1807, before the Berlin decree had been enforced against American
vessels, and while the government had reason to hope it would not be
enforced. Great Britain executed her threat intimated at the signing
of the treaty. By an order in council (with a preamble, charging
France with a want of respect to the laws of nations and rights of
neutrality), it was" decreed that all the ports and places of France
and her allies, or any other country at war with his majesty, and all
other ports and places in Europe from which, although not at war
with his majesty, the British flag is excluded, and all ports and
places in the colonies belonging to his majesty's enemies, shall from
henceforth be subject to the same restrictions, in point of trade and
navigation, (with certain exceptions,) as if the same were actually
blockaded by his majesty's naval forces, in the most strict and vigor
ous manner.
By these acts of England and France, professing to be acts of re
taliation, and not at all in a spirit of hostility to the United States,
the neutral commerce of America was entirely destroyed. Not a ves
sel could sail to Europe or to England, to the vast colonial regions of
North and South America, and the East and West Indies, without
VOL. I. 12

266 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
being subject to capture and condemnation. The trade of the whole
world, in fact, was interdicted, and could not be carried on without
the risk of forfeiture. Both belligerents, however, had distinctly in
timated that if the United States would side with them, every advan
tage should be given to their commerce. But this is what they did
not intend to do ; they did not mean to surrender all the advantages
they had hitherto enjoyed from their neutral position, if it could be
avoided. To side with England was war with France — with France
was war with England, Mr. Jefferson was not prepared for either
alternative. What was to be done ? Commerce, left thus exposed,
must be ground into powder between the upper and nether millstone,
and be scattered as chaff before the winds of heaven. The Presi
dent advised a dignified retirement from the ocean, until the storm
should have passed over. For the first time since our difficulties
with foreign nations, he took the responsibility of advising a definite
course of action. In a secret message to Congress, about the 19th of
December, 1807, he recommended that an embargo should be laid on
all American vessels. In a few days a bill to that effect was passed
into a law : all American vessels were prohibited, under high penal
ties, from sailing to foreign ports, or from port to port within the
United States, without license.
The measure of an embargo was at first advocated by Mr. Ran
dolph. He introduced the resolution, in accordance with the Presi
dent's messiige ; but the bill which was finally adopted, originated in
the Senate ; it contained provisions that he could not approve, and he
opposed it on its passage. This is given as an instance of Mr.
Randolph's fickleness and want of object in his parliamentary course.
The debates were conducted in secret — in fact, the bill was hurried
through the forms of legislation, with scarcely any debate. We do
not know, therefore, what was said on the occasion, and are left to
infer the grounds of Mr, Randolph's opposition to the bill, from his
general vi'ws on the subject of an embargo. He approved of such a
step in the beginning, as a war measure. An embargo of sixty or
ninety days, collecting and protecting all our resources, followed by a
declaration of war, at the end of that period, against that one of the
belligerents whose restrictive course manifested the strongest spirit of
hostility, would have fulfilled Mr, Randolph's idea of such a meas
ure, But such was not the intention of the friends of the adminis-

EMBARGO.

267

tration, in passing the act now nnder consideration. It was designed
as a measure to be permanent for an indefinite period. France and
England were told that it was not conceived in a spirit of hostility
to them, but was merely intended as a municipal regulation. The
truth was, however, and they did not fail to perceive it, that the whole
object of withdrawing our commerce from th? ocean, was to operate
on those two nations. It was intended to starve France and her de
pendencies, and to break England, unless they would abandon their
absurd pretensions over the rights of neutral nations. But when this
happy result would take place, it was impossible to tell. For a meas
ure of this kind to come home to the bosom and the business of a
great nation, must necessarily take a very long time. Indeed, it was
reasonable to suppose that the desired object never could be accom
plished in that way. The resources of England and of France were
too great and too varied, to be seriously affected by a suspension of
even the whole of American commerce. The event proved what, it
would seem, a little forethought ought to have anticipated, After the
embargo had been in operation for twelve months, those two nations
were no nearer being forced into terms than they were at first ; while
their spirit of hostility was greatly exasperated.
But what effect did the measure have on affairs at home — on the
character of our own people ? Here, it was disastrous in the extreme.
An embargo is the most heroic remedy that can be applied to state
diseases. It must soon run its course, and kill or cure in a short
time. It is like one holding his breath to rush through fiame or me-
phitic gas : the suspension may be endured for a short time, but the
lungs at length must be infiated, even at the,hazard of suffocation.
Commerce is the breath that fiUs the lungs of a nation, and a total
suspension of it is like taking away vital air from the human system ;
convulsions or death must soon follow. By the embargo, the farmer,
the merchant, the mechanic, the capitalist, the ship-owner, the sailor,
and the day-laborer, found themselves suddenly arrested in their daily
business. Crops were left to rot in the warehouses ; ships in the
docks ; capital was compelled to seek new channels for investment,
while labor was driven to every shift to keep from starvation.
Sailors, seeing the uncertain continuation of this state of things.
flocked in great numbers to the British navy. That service which, in
former years, they most dreaded, necessity now compelled them to

268 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH,
seek with avidity. Smuggling was extensively carried on through
the whole extent of our wide-spread borders ; the revenue was
greatly . reduced ; and the morals of the people were corrupted by
the vast temptations held' out to evade the laws. It is difficult to tell
on what classes of the community this disastrous measure did not
operate. On the planting and shipping interest, perhaps, it was most
serious. On the one, it was more immediate , on the other, more
permanent, in its evil consequences.
In cities and commercial regions, capital and laoor are easily di
verted from one employment to another. That which to-day is profit
ably engaged in commerce, may to-morrow, if an inducement offers,
be as readily tumed into successful manufactures. Not so with the
labor and capital employed in agriculture ; here the change .iuust be
slow. But with the capital and the kind of labor employed in the
tobacco and cotton planting of the South, no change, to any percepti
ble degree, was possible. The Southem people, being wholly agri
cultural, could live a few years without the sale of their crops ; but
the Northern people, being mainly dependent on their labor and com
merce, could not exist with an embargo of long duration. Hence we
find a patient endurance of its evils on the part of the South, while a
spirit of insurrection pervaded the people of the North. In this rest
less condition, much of their capital and labor were permanently di
rected to manufactures. The bounties offered by a total prohibition
of foreign articles, stimulated this branch of business in a remarkable
degree ; and when the embargo, non-intercourse, and war ceased to
operate as a bounty, they have had to be sustained by heavy duties
imposed on foreign commerce, at the expense of the planting interest
of the South, which is mainly dependent on a foreign market for the
sale of its commodities. Every dollar taken from commerce, and in
vested in manufactures, was turning the current from a friendly into
a hostile channel, to that kind of agriculture which was dependent on
foreign trade for its prosperity. The immediate effect of the embargo
was, to starve New England, Its more permanent consequence has
been, to build it up at the expense of the planting interest of the
South, New England has now two sources of wealth, in her manu
factures and commerce ; while the South have still the only one of
planting tobacco and cotton on exhausted lands, and with a reduced
market for the sale of her commodities.

EMBARGO. 269
It was impossible for Mr. Randolph to advocate such a measure.
He could not foresee all the evils it might entail on his country ; but
his practical wisdom, aided by his deep interest in the welfare of his
constituents, taught him that no good could come out of an embargo
reduced to a system, and made a part of the municipal regulations of
the Government, As the first step towards an immediate prepara
tion for war, he could approve the act ; out as a scheme destined to
act on foreign countries, while it was wasting ihe resources of Govern
ment, and consuming the substance of the people at home, it met his
decided disapprobation.
Twelve months had now rolled around, and all parties had become
of his opinion. No impression abroad. Nothing but disaster at
home. The legislature of Massachusetts pronounced it an unconsti
tutional act. They were not far from the truth. For a short period,
and as a war measure, an embargo would be constitutional ; but the
embargo acts adopted from time to time by Congress, and persisted
in for more than a year, were very far from being clearly constitutional.
Massachusetts pronounced them not only unconstitutional, but unjust
and oppressive.
In 1799, when Virginia interposed her State authority, and de
clared the alien and sedition laws unconstitutional, Massachusetts
then said, that the Supreme Court was alone competent to pronounce
on the constitutionality of a federal law. But she now saw the error
and the evil consequences of such a doctrine. The Supreme Court
had declared the embargo acts to be constitutional ; while a sovereign
State, crushed and ruined by the burdehs they imposed, saw those
enactments in a very different light Was she to be silent, and
bear the evils laflicted by those laws, merely because the courts had
pronounced in their favor ? By no means. She was one of the
sovereign parties who had ordained the Constitution as a common
government, endowing it with certain general powers for that pur
pose ; and surely, from the very nature of things, she had a right to
say whether this or that law transcended those delegated powers
or not. Whether Massachusetts strictly followed the doctrine of State
rights, as laid down by Mason, Jefferson, and Madison, we pretend
not to say ; but we do say, that she had a right to interpose her au
thority, to pronounce the embargo laws unconstitutional, to show

270 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
their injustice and oppression, and to demand their repeal by instruc
tions to her own senators and representatives. Massachusetts did
interpose ; pronounced her repugnance to the law ; and her will was
respected. Mr. Jefferson might have taken a very different course from the
one pursued by him. He might have said, This disaffection is only
found among the federalists ; they despise State rights, and have
only resorted to them on this occasion to abuse them ; the people of
Massachusetts are favorable to my administration, and to the ob
noxious law ; my popularity and influence are unbounded in other
sections of the Union ; by persevering a little longer, we shall accom
plish all that was designed by the embargo ; I will therefore disre
gard the clamors of these people, and persist in enforcing the law,
even should it drive them to extremity. But Mr. Jefferson did not
reason in this way. He saw that a sovereign State, through her
regular legislative forms, had pronounced against the law ; it was not
for him to scrutinize the character and composition of that legisla
ture ; it was enough for him to know, that a State had solemnly de
clared the law unconstitutional, unjust, and oppressive. When, in
addition, he was told by a distinguished statesman from Massachu
setts, that a longer persistence might endanger tlie integrity of the
Union, he unhesitatingly acquiesced in a repeal of the most important
and favored measure of his administration.
What might have been the consequences if Massachusetts had
been driven to extremities, we will not conjecture — we do not reason
from extreme cases. All we have to say is, that so long as the States
have the independence to maintain those rights guaranteed to them
by the Constitution, and that so long as there is patriotism and
virtue in the administration of the Federal Government, there will
never be the necessity of driving the States into those extreme
measures of secession or nullification.

GUNBOATS 271
CHAPTEE XXXIV
GUNBOATS.
The question may be asked here. Why did Mr, Jefferson make so
little preparation for a war which, sooner or later, seemed to be inevi
table ? To understand his policy, we must first know the political
principles that governed his conduct. He came into power as the
leader of the republican State-Rights party. During the first four
years of his administration, he applied the few simple and abste
mious doctrines of that party most successfully in the management
of our domestic affairs. But now a new and untried scene waa opened
before him. Never were the embarrassments of any government in
regard to foreign powers more intricate and perplexing ; and, to
increase his difficulties, he had to deal with the most powerful nations
on earth, who, in their hostility to each other, paid no respect to the
laws of nations or the rights of neutrality. The Constitution was
ordained mainly for the purpose of regulating commerce, foreign and
domestic, and establishing a common rule of action in our intercourse
with other countries. While the States at home preserved their noli-
tical existence, retained much of their original sovereignty, were dis
tinct, variant, and even hostile in some of their domestic interests, to
the world abroad they presented but one front. At home each pur
sued its own policy, developed its own internal resources, and was
unconscious of the existence of a common government, save in the
negative blessing that it bestowed upon them of peace with each other
and with the world. They literally fulfilled the spirit of their national
motto, E pluribus unum — at home many, abroad one. It is obvious
that peace must be an essential element in the successful operation
of such a complicated system of government War of whatever kind,
especially an aggressive war, whether by land or sea, ^ust destroy
its equilibrium, and precipitate all its movements on the common cen
tre, which, by an intense over-action, must finally absorb all counter
vailing influences. Mr. Jefferson was thoroughly penetrated with
the true spirit of our Constitution ; so was John Randolph, These
profound statesmen thought alike on that subject : they differed as t

272 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
certain measures of policy, but not at all in their principles. They
both sought the peace of the country, not only as the best condition
for developing its resources, but as an essential means for preserving
the purity of its institutions. Neither could look with complacency
on a standing army or a large naval establishment They did not even
consider them as essential in the present emergency, more imminent,
perhaps, than any that could possibly occur at a future period.
Negotiation having failed, and both belligerents still continuing
to plunder our commerce, Mr. Jefferson recommended, as the only
remedy, a total abandonment of the ocean. Mr. Randolph's advice
was to arm the merchant marine, and let them go forth and defend
themselves in the highways of a lawful commerce. As the means of
home defence, Jefferson recommended the construction and equip
ment of gunboats, in numbers sufficient to protect the harbors and
seaports from sudden invasion. Randolph advised to arm the mili
tia, put a weapon in the hands of every yeoman of the land, and fur
nish the towns and seaports with a heavy train of artillery for their
defence. In all this we perceive but one object — a defence of the natal soil
{natale solum) by the people themselves, and a total 'abstinence from
all aggression. " Pour out your blood," said these wise statesmen to
the people ; " pour out your blood in defence of your borders ; but
shed not a drop beyond." Happy for the country could this advice
have always been followed ! As Randolph foresaw and predicted,
we came out of the war with Great Britain without a constitution ;
mainly to his exertions in after years are we indebted for its restora
tion. The late war with Mexico has engendered a spirit of aggres
sion and of conquest among the people, and has taught the ambitious.
aspiring men of the country, that 'military fame achieved in an hour
is worth more than the solid reputation of a statesman acquired by
long years of labor and self-sacrifice. Where these things are to end
it does not require much sagacity to foresee. Let the people take
warning in time, and give heed to the counsel of their wisest states
men ; let them dismiss their army and their navy, relieve the coun
try of those burthensome and dangerous accompaniments of a mili
tary government, and trust to negotiation, justice, and their own ener
gies and resources for defence. What was visionary and impracti
cable in the warlike days of Jefferson, is now wholly reasonable and

GUNBOATS. 273
proper. What gunboats could not do, steam vessels can fully accom
plish. For defence there is no need of a navy ; for aggressive war,
we trust the day may never come when it shall be called into requi
sition. There was one subject on which Randolph and Jefferson differed
so essentially that it would seem to indicate a more radical diver
gency of principles than we are willing to admit existed between
them. They both sincerely labored to preserve a strict neutrality
between the great belligerents of Europe ; but when driven to ex
tremity, and forced to choose between the one and the other, Jeffer
son would have selected France as a friend, whilst Randolph would
have chosen England. In the days of John Adams these predilec
tions would have marked their political characters as being essentially
different on all the great principles of government. But Randolph
contended that since that day circumstances had greatly altered.
France was then a free republic, fighting for the liberties of Europe,
while England was in coalition with the old monarchies to destroy
them. France was now a military despotism, grasping at the empire
of the world, while England was the only barrier in the way of uni
versal conquest. To suffer old partialities and prejudices to influence
their conduct in such a state of affairs, he thought, was the height of
folly and madness. He had no greater friendship for England and
her institutions than before ; but she had become essential for his
own protection, and he was willing to use her for that purpose. These
views seem not only to be plausible, but just. A practical states
man, at that time, looking at events as they transpired around him,
ard gazing on the rapid strides of Napoleon towards universal con
quest, would have coincided with Mr. Randolph — have exclaimed
with him that it was poor consolation to reflect that we were to be
the last to be devoured, and have taken refuge behind the floating
batteries of England as the last retreat to the expiring liberties of the
world. But Th'jmas Jefferson did not view the subject in this prac
tical way: he was the profound philosopher that looked at political
causes and consequences in their radical and essential relations to
each other, and the bold pioneer that dared to sacriflce what seemed
to be the present interest to the future and more permanent welfare
of his country.
In his judgment the great causes that produced the marvellous
VOL. I. 12*

274 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
events then daily transpiring on the theatre of Europe, had not
changed ; it was still tbe spirit of democracy contending against the
old feudal aristocracy, which had so long oppressed and enslaved the
nations. The crusade of Bonaparte, aside from his own personal
ambition, had no other end but the overthrow of those rotten dynas
ties that sat like a leaden weight on the hearts of the people ; and a
revival of those old memories of privileges and franchises that lay
buried and forgotten beneath the rubbish and worthless trivialities of
a profligate court and a heartless monarchy.
To repress the numerous factions that were tearing her vitals
within, and to beat back the myrmidons of power that assailed her
from without, it was necessary that France should concentrate all
her energies in the hands of a railitary despot. The times called for
a dictator. But Napoleon himself was a phenomenon that must
soon pass away ; his long existence was incompatible with the just
order of things ; his downfall must be followed by a restoration of the
Bourbons, or by a revival of the Republic, chastened and purified by
the ordeal through which she had passed. Bonaparte saw to the root
of the matter when he said, that in a few years Europe must be Re
publican or Cossack. Jefferson perceived and acted on this profound
principle long before Bonaparte gave utterance to it. He knew well
that England was the same now that she was in the days of the coa
lition ; her allies were gone, because the arms of France and the
insurrection of their own subjects had overturned their power ; the
French evil had spread over Europe, and her battle was still against
that ; the right of the people to pull down and to build up dynasties
— the doctrine that governments belong to the people and not the
people to governments, and that they can alter or abolish them at
pleasure, were principles that she fought against and labored to re
press and to destroy. Had she succeeded in overturning the power
of Napoleon, she would have forced on the nations of Europe, by vir
tue of her cherished doctrine of legitimacy, the worst of all govern
ments — a restoration of the old monarchies claiming to rule, not by
the will of the people, but by the divine right of kings. It was not
in the nature of Thomas Jefferson to aid in the remotest degree in
the accomplishment of such an end. Besides all this, he knew there
' was no syrapathy between the democracy of America and the aris
tocracy of England ; the one was progressive, the other conservative ;

GUNBOATS. 275
the one readily embraced every measure that tended to elevate and
to improve the masses of mankind, the other repressed every propo
sition that contemplated a change in the present order of things ; the
one held that government must spring from the will of the people,
and is but an agent in the hands of their representatives for the good
of the whole; the other that all wealth and power belong to the
few, and government but an instrument to preserve and perpetuate
their authority. Any coalition or union between elements so repug
nant would have produced evil rather than good ; it would have shed
a malign influence on the one hand, while on the other the contact
would have been regarded as a vile contamination. Jefferson was
the embodiment of American democracy ; the masses of the people
felt that he gave form and expression to the great sentiments that
lay confused and voiceless in their own bosoms, and they knew that
he would be faithful in following the impulses of that mighty concen
tration of a people's will in his own person : hence his influence over
the public mind — his almost despotic sway over the legislation of the
country. In 1806, a subservient legislature, in obedience to his
secret wishes, voted him money without restriction to negotiate with
Spain and France, when his public messages declared that negotiation
was at an end, and breathed the strongest spirit of resistance. In
1807 his commissioners, his favorite negotiator, Monroe, being one
of them, had made a treaty with England, as favorable as could be
expected at that time, but he put it in his pocket and refused to sub
mit it to the consideration of that branch of the government which
ha(J a right and might have advised its ratiflcation. When Great
Britain sent a special envoy to make reparation for the unauthorized
attack on the Chesapeake, he stood on an untenable point of etiquette,
refused to receive or even to hear any propositions on that subject,
and suffered the public mind to be inflamed by an unnecessary delay
of adjustment. Before he had any official information of the orders
in council, issued in retaliation to the BerUn decree, on the mere
authority of newspaper reports, he sent a secret message to Congress
advising an embargo : in silence and in haste his will was obeyed —
a sudden pause was given to business — at his command the people
stood still, and let fall from their hands the implements of trade and
the means of their subsistence. This measure, whether so intended
or not, coincided with the viewi of Napoleon : while it could afieot

276 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
France but slightly, it formed an essential part of that great conti
nental system that had for its object the subjugation of England by
a destruction of her commerce and manufactures.
Bonaparte approved, and the indomitable Saxon spirit of England
refused to yield : the dire recoil was most severely felt at home, but tho
patriotism of the people increased with the disasters inflicted upon
them ; and they continued to follow their bold leader with a fortitude
and intrepidity that would have persevered to the bitter end, had he
not said, enough ! and acquiesced in the repeal of his favorite mea
sure. Jefferson stood to the people of America as Naj,oleon to the
people of France — he embodied the will of a free and enlightened
republic, devoted to the arts of peace, and governed by laws and a
written constitution ; Napoleon was the dread symbol of a wild
democracy, sprung from the bosom of a volcano, chaotic in all its
fiery elements, and armed with firebrands to burn up the dross and
stubble of the worn-out and rotten monarchies that surrounded it; both
were invincible, so long as they continued to stand in the focus, and to
reflect the mighty energies that were concentrated in their own person.
We say, then, that the policy of Jefferson, viewed by a practical
statesman, would seem to be unwise. It inflicted many evils on the
country at the time, and entailed a lasting injury on the planting
interests of the South : but it saved the principles of democracy ; and
it saved the country, if not from an actual participation in the Con
gress of Vienna, it saved them from a humiliating acquiescence in
the holy alliance of despots, confederated under a solemn oath to
smother and extinguish every sentiment of liberty that might dare
to breathe its existence in the bosoms of their oppressed and de
graded s'iibjects.

CHAPTEE XXXV.
JAMES MADISON — PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION.
Mr. Randolph was opposed to the elevation of James Madispn to
the presidency. His objections extended back to an early period in
the political history of that gentleman. As we have said, the coun-

JAMES MADISON. 277
try is indebted to the efforts of Mr. Madison for their present Con
stitution. His great labors and untiring zeal, both in the Federal
convention that framed it, and the Virginia convention that ratified
it, overcame every obstacle, and finally presented to the people a form
of government to strengthen and consolidate their union. But the
happy blending of national and federal features in the constitution,
whereby the States have preserved their independence, and much of
their sovereignty, was not the Conception of Mr. Madison. He
thought the States ought not to be entirely obliterated ; but until the
plan of George Mason was developed, he did not understand how their
existence could be made compatible with a common central govern
ment, operating alike on all the people. He did not cordially acqui
esce in the States-rights doctrine ingrafted on the Constitution. In
all the debates in both conventions, he is generally found opposed to
the views of Mr. Mason. And it was charged against him, that in
the essays which he wrote, in conjunction with Jay and Hamilton,
with the view of recommending the Constitution to the people, he ad
vocated, with as much earnestness as those avowed centralists, a
strong consolidated government. When party excitement grew very
violent, in the times of the whisky insurrection, and of Jay's treaty,
when Randolph was driven, in disgrace, from the Cabinet, and Mon
roe recalled, under sentiments of strong displeasure, Mr. Madison
was charged with having abandoned his post on the floor of Con
gress, and seeking ease and personal safety in retirement. In the
Virginia legislature it was said he opposed the general ticket system,
which was adopted with the view of casting the whole vote of the
State in favor of Mr. Jefferson, at the approaching election, and with
out which he would have been defeated. But the weightiest charge
of all was that preferred by John Randolph, on the floor of Congress.
The reader is already familiar with that subject. Randolph declared
that the Secretary of State, in a conversation with him, expressed his
willingness to buy peace with Spain, by paying tribute to J'rance ;
and he averred that, on the expression of such pusillanimous senti
ments, his confidence, which at no time was very great, had entirely
vanished. Mr. Madison, it was also said, was a mere closet philoso
pher — an able logician, but a weak and timid statesman. The times
required a man of nerve and energy, James Monroe was held up by
his friends, as combining, more than any other man, all the qualities

278 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
needed for the present exigency. A number of the republican mem
bers of Congress met together in caucus, and nominated Mr. Madisoi-
for the presidency. John Randolph and some sixteen or seventeen
others, denounced this nomination, and protested against the right of
members of Congress to make it. They said that such a plan had
been resorted to on a former occasion, in order to concentrate the
votes of the republican party on one candidate, to prevent their de
feat by the federalists ; but there was no necessity for that concert
of action now ; the federalists, as a party, had been annihilated, had
no intention of bringing out a candidate ; and that whoever was elected
must be a republican. They contended, therefore, that each should
have a fair field, and that no advantage should be given to either by
a resort to party machinery. Shortly after this, Mr. Monroe was no
minated by a convention in Virginia, called together from the differ
ent counties of the State. Thus we see two candidates from the same
state, for the highest office within the gift of the people ; both pro
fessed the same political principles, each ' had high claims to the con
fidence and support of their country, and each was put forward and
sustained by a fraction of the same party. We may well imagine the
heart-burnings and the angry feelings excited by such a contest.
The ablest men in the State employed their talents in writing for the
newspapers. Their essays, for the most part, were elaborate, well
written, and not unfrequently filled with wit, ridicule, irony, and the
bitterest sarcasm, and too frequently did they descend to the most
direct and pointed personalities. Mr. Madison was the candidate of
the administration — Monroe of the Ti?-tium Quids, as they were
called. John Eandolph was the master-spirit of this third party.
He of course came in for his full share of abuse. Even ridicule and
doggerel rhyme were resorted to as the means of bringing his name
into disrepute. " Thou art a pretty little speaker, John —
Though some there are who think you've spoke too long ;
And even call, sweet sir, your tongue a hell,
That ding-dong, dong-ding, tolls away !
Yet mind not what such ' ragamuffins' say,
Roar still 'gainst ' back-stairs influence,' I pray,
And lash ' the pages of the water-closfet' well j
To ' dust and ashes' pray thee grind 'em,
Though I'm told 'twould puzzle you to flnd 'em.

JAMES MADISON. 279
" But John, like water, thou must flnd thy ' level,'
Those horn-book politicians are the devil,
Some how or other they've so pleased the nation ;
For spite of ' cobweb theories' and ' sharks,'
Russels, Garnetts, Clays and Clarks,
' Strait-jackets,' ' water gruel,' and ' depletion,'
Yes, yes, in spite of all those curious things,
The name of each with glory around us rings,
Whilst thou of even patriotism doubted,
Art on all hands detested — laughed at — ' scouted,'
Nay, many think (though this perhaps is scandal,)
That soon you'll nothing be biit plain Jack R  dal."
Many a volley was aimed at his head, and many a valiant pen
was wielded in his defence. He sometimes descended into the lists
himself, and under a borrowed name hurled his polished and effective
shafts against the exposed and vulnerable points of his adversaries.
Many of the most distingushed men of the State were on his side of
the question ; indeed, it may be said that most of the young men of
talents and independence of character were his admirers and follow
ers. But it soon became manifest that Mr. Monroe would get no
support out of the State of Virginia, and that the contest would be
between Mr. Madison and DeWitt Clinton, of New- York. Many of
the best friends of Mr. Monroe were unwilling to contribute to the
election of Clinton, by a loss of the State of Virginia to his opponent;
they therefore determined, however reluctantly, to cast their votes for
Mr. Madison ; so that when the election came on, the vote for Mon
roe was very thin. It would seem that the Tirtium Quids, with all
their genius, eloquence, and fine writing, had made no impression on
the people. We can well conceive how this exposure of their weak
ness operated on the nerves of those politicians who love always to
be found on the side of the majority. One by one they began to re
cant their heresies, and to fall into the ranks of the administration,
Mr, Monroe became a candidate for the legislature in the county of
Albemarle : he was interrogated on the subject, and professed him
self friendly to the new dynasty ; was elected ; appointed Governor
of the State ; and in due time was placed by Mr. Madison in his
Cabinet Very soon Randolph was left with only a few personal and devo
ted friends to stand by him. Those who valued consistency more

280 ' LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
than office, and who regarded it as an act of dishonor to abandon a
friend in his hour of need, still adhered to him ; but the majority of
politicians, who look only to the loaves and fishes, had no hesitation in
making their escape from what they conceived to be a falling house.
This "ratting," as he caUedit, Mr Randolph never forgot nor for
gave. His pride was cut to the quick ; his disgust was unbounded ;
and to the events of this period may be traced much of that bitter
ness of feeUng which he manifested towards certain individuals in
after Ufe, Never did he suffer an occasion to pass that he did not
make them feel, by some cutting allusion, his deep indignation. This
seemed to the world a wanton indulgence of a vile, cruel, and sarcas
tic temper : but the parties themselves understood and keenly felt
the meaning of his allusions ; and well did they repay his disgust and
contempt, by a most cordial hatred.
"Why have you not gone to Philadelphia?" says one of his flat
terers, writing to him about this time — '' every one there whose atten
tion could confer either pleasure or honor was prepared for your
reception. The learning, the genius, and the eloquence of the city,
with all its train of social manners, wit, beauty, gayety and inno
cence, were prepared to spread for you a rich and varied feast of
enjoyment. You have ceased to be the head of a great triumphant
party, but, rely upon it, you are at the head of the taste, feeling and
honor of the nation."
Yet this man in a few years glided into the ranks of the admin
istration — ^became the secret reviler of one on whom he had bestow
ed the grossest adulation : and finally supported all the Federal
measures of Monroe and John Quincy Adams ; bank, tariff, inter
nal improvements, and whatever else that tended to produce a
strong, magnificent, corrupt, and consolidated government. It is
not surprising that a man Of Mr, Eandolph's temper, exasperated as
it had been by so many instances of the same kind, could not look
with complacency on such characters ; but he visited as a crime on
the head of the offender that which he should have forgiven as a
weakness of our common nature. He understood mankind too well
not to have known the certain consequences of defeat ; the abdica
ting Emperor at Fontainebleau, when abandoned by all those whom
he had made marshals and princes, might have told him that mis
fortune is like a nipping frost, that scatters the leaves and the

JAMES MADISON. 281
blossoms, and leaves bare the naked limbs to battle alone with the
rude blasts of winter.
The following extract taken from an unpublished essay, dated
August 31, ISOS, will throw much light on the excited and angry
nature of the controversy carried on at that time between the fol
lowers of John Eandolph and the adherents of Mr, Madison :
" I addressed you formerly with a view to the approaching presi
dential election ; but before I could recover from the repulse which
I met in my first attempt to approach the people, it was already too
late. Every man had already chosen his part in that drama — many
were already in imagination tricked out in the robes of office in
which they were to assist at the installation of Mr, Madison ; and,
so far as it could depend upon the votes of Virginia, that election
was already decided. The partisans of government have ceased
to bestow their attention upon this subject, and have already turned
it to another. I mean the election of a representative from the
counties of Cumberland, &c. The stormy rage of the presidential
contest has been no sooner hushed, than both the Argus and the
Enquirer have, at once, turned their batteries against the gentleman
who at present represents that district. Writers, scarcely worthy to be
noticed, and whom it would be a disgrace to answer, have hastened
to engage in the meritorious service of -removing the only eye that
watches over the administration. Looking forward to the election
of Mr. Madison, they no doubt anticipate much from this at
tempting to destroy the man, before whom, in spite of all the pomp
of office, he would be compelled to feel the intrinsic littleness of his
character. Unworthy as their childish arguments and groundless
assertions are of the poor respect of refutation and contradiction,
they at least remind us of the proverbial truth, ' that straws show
the course of the wind ;' and if I mistake them not, it is not the
only occasion on which they have displayed the properties of the
weathercock. Though tlieir arguments prove nothing, their attempts
at argument prove much. They show the real offence of Mr. R.,
they show the real causes of the clamor which is raised against him.
It is the usual fate of fools and knaves that the weapons which they
pretend to wield, recoil upon their own heads. These men have
endeavored to detract from the merit of Mr. E,, but they have
exposed their own weakness ; they have evinced the irreconcileable

282 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
malignity of themselves and their party towards him, at the same
time that they have stated objections, which, if true and well found
ed, as they are false and groundless, would be utterly inadequate to
the production of such an effect ; and they compel us to beUeve
that there is some other secret cause or motive for their antipathy
to that gentleman, which is not revealed, only because it will not
bear the light. Mr. E's constituents have been much at a loss to
know wherefore the whole force of the government has been exerted
to provide them a representative, sOme worthy associate of John
Love and John Dawson. They feel indeed the iiftportanee of his
past services, and they see in them some evidence of abilities not to
be despised. They perceive also that he differs from the adminis
tration on some points. They are even told by the newspapers that
he is opposed to them on all, but at the same time they are assur
ed, that he stands alone in this opposition, without a party, even
without personal friends, and that there is more to pity in his infat
uation than to dread from this hostility. Why then all this strug
gle, this ceaseless anxiety ? and (to use a quotation of your own Mr,
Eitchie,) this ' ocean into tempest wrought to drown a fly ?' Is
the spirit of federalism then extinct ; is that monster no more,
that nothing remains but to turn the whole force of the administra
tion to the destruction of such an insect, as they would represent
Mr. Eandolph ? This surely is not the case. The federal represen
tation of Connecticut yet remains entire. Its banners are yet dis
played, .and those who yesterday deserted, are, to-day, returning to
them. The mighty State of Massachusetts, which of late the admin
istration so proudly numbered among their supporters, has already
repented of her conversion ; while the Vermontese are newly bap
tized to the federal faith in the blood of their countrymen. Perhaps
indeed they balance all this with the conversion of Mr, J. Q. Adams,
and by the same political arithmetic, which teaches them that the
downfall of Mr. Eandolph is of more importance than the defeat of
the federalists, they think the acquisition of this gentleman an
ample compensation for the loss of two entire States. ^ No doubt
indeed they augur well from it, no doubt they regard it as an all-
sufficient evidence of Mr. Adams's conviction of the stability of
their power. Ten years ago they would have told you that this
gentleman knew, as well as any one, who kept the key of the ex-

JAMES MADISON. 283
chequer, and it would be strange indeed, if, when his father held
it so long, he had not found out the value of the coin. They per
haps remember too, that about that time he was talked of as the
contemplated successor to the crown of these realms, and they pos
sibly regard his accession to their party as an impUed relinquishment
of his title, in favor of the hopeful progeny of our modern Livia,
I would warn them, however, not to build too much upon that.
They should rather infer from the example of Spain, that the mino
rity of the imperial nephew of his majesty, the emperor and king,
may be terminated by an invitation to Bayonne.
'' But it cannot be that the administration, and the friends of the
oa-Jministration, think that there is less to be feared from the federal
party than there was three years ago. How then does it happen that
the necessity of putting down this great and growing evil is forgotten
in the struggle to remove that gentleman from the confldence of his
constituents ? They tell us indeed, themselves, that the republican
cause has nothing to fear from Mr. E., and they say true, sir. They
know that the republican cause has nothing to fear from him ; but
they feel at the same time, that the pretended supporters of that
cause have every thing to fear from him. They see in him the only
man on the floor of Congress who has the sagacity to detect and the
spirit to expose their unconstitutional practices and their nefarious
designs, and they wish his ruin, for the same reason that rogues wish
the absence of the sun. How else can their conduct be explained ?
At a time when the shattered forces of the federalists are again
assembling, when they are even enjoying a partial triumph, the Go
vernment are seen endeavoring to drive from their ranks the most
distinguished and formidable adversary to that cause. No, sir ; they
love not the light, because their deeds are evil. And do those who
urge this clamor against Mr, E. suppose that the people are blind
to the real cause of it, that they form no judgment of the motives
and characters of the men who seek his ruin, by the means they use
for that purpose ? No ; they know that dirty tools are used for dirty
work, and that he who employs them in that way cannot have clean
hands. What can they think when they see his private letters be
trayed, and his unguarded moments of gayety and conviviality watched
and exposed ? Shall they be told that these are private occurrences ?
No, sir, Mr. G, will not do even an act of treachery for nothing.

284 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Indeed, some of the partisans of Mr. Madison have not scrupled to
declare, that they consider his election as of little raore importance
than the defeat of Mr. E, Can the people be at a loss to understand
wherefore ? As long as the views of Mr. Madison are constitutional,
and his conduct honorable, he can have nothing to fear from Mr. E.
In questions of mere policy, the weight of Executive patronage will
always preponderate, and, in questions of right, always powerful,
becomes invincible when supported by the name and authority of a
President. It is not until he transcends the limits of the Constitu
tion that any opposition can be formidable. If such be their projected
course— if the system of standing armies and navies, of treason bills
and habeas corpus acts, of unauthorized expenditures, and splendid
impunity to favored traitors and felons, with the practice of buying
peace, and giving to the President the powers of Congress — are still
to be persisted in, let them beware of Mr. E. Already has he de
claimed against these practices, and he has not been heard ; but they
know that the slumbers of the people are not to last for ever, and
they look forward with the apprehensions of a sinner, trembling in the
midst of his guilt, to the day when the vengeance of a deluded nation
shall be roused ; and at the sound of his voice, as at that of the last
trump, they shall call upon the mountains to cover them. I have no
doubt that those who made this avowal have somewhat transcended their
orders. Their instinctive sagacity leads them to the game which
their master is in pursuit of ; but in the eagerness of their zeal, they
have flushed it too soon. They are at this moment trembling in the
expectation of being corrected for the blunder ; but they are not so
true spaniels as I take them to be, if they will not consent to have
their ears pulled for the mistake, provided they be fed for their
activity."

CHAPTEE XXXVI,

WAE WITH ENGLAND,

The great event of Mr. Madison's administration was ,the war with
England. For a long time, the grounds of complaint against that
Government were, the carrying trade and the impressment of sea-

WAR WITH ENGLAND, " 285
men. Since 1806, another and more serious difficulty, if possible, had
been thrown in the way of an amicable arrangement between the. two
countries. By the Berlin decree and its supplements, France inter
dicted all trade between the United States and Great Britain and her
dependencies. By her orders in council, professing to be in retalia
tion of the BerUn decree, Gret.t Britain interdicted all trade between
the United States and France, and her allies and their dependencies,
which embraced nearly all Europe and the civilized world. These
edicts did not affect the carrying trade merely, which was of very
doubtful justice, but they destroyed all commerce whatever.
By the British orders in council, American citizens were not al
lowed to carry the products of their own country, in their own ships,
to a country hostile to England, and to bring back, in exchange, the
commodities of that country, without first paying tribute in a British
port, and obtaining license for that purpose. This extraorainary
assumption of power was acknowledged to be contrary to the law of
nations and the rights of neutrality; but it was justified on the
ground of necessity. Lex talionis was the only plea. To bring
about a sense of justice in the great belligerents, and a repeal of their
unwarrantable edicts, the embargo law was enacted ; but that proved
to be a two-edged sword, more deeply wounding our own sides than
those of the parties it was designed to effect. It was repealed, and a
non-importation act, as to England and France, substituted in its
place. This proving ineffectual, also, the olive branch was at length
held out, with theSe words : " That if Great Britain or France (Act of
May 1, 1810,) should cease to violate the neutral commerce of the
Uniied States, which fact the President should declare by proclama
tion, and the other should not, within three months thereafter, revoke
or modify its edicts in like manner, that then certain sections in a
former act, interdicting the commercial intercourse between the
United States and Great Britain and France, and their depend
encies, should, from and after the expiration of three months
from the date of the proclamation, be revived, and have full force
against the former, its colonies, and dependencies, and against all arti
cles the growth, produce, or manufacture of the same." France ac
ceded to this proposition. On the 5th of August, 1810, the minister
of foreign affairs addressed a note to the minister plenipotentiary of
the United States at Paris, informing him that the decrees of Berlin

286 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
and Milan were revoked — the revocation to take effect on the first of
November following ; that the measure had been taken by his Gov
ernment, in confidence that the British Government would revoke
its orders, and renounce its new principles of blockade, or that the
United States would cause their rights to be respected. The means
by which the United States should cause their right to be respected,
in case Great Britain should not revoke her edicts, it was understood,
consisted merely in the enforcement of the non-importation act against
that nation.
Great Britain declined to revoke her edicts ; iutisted that those
of France had not been revoked, and complained .hat the United
States had done injustice, by earring into effect the non-importation
act against her.
Great Britain contended that, in the French decrees, it was ex
pressly avowed, that the principles on which they were founded, and
the provisions contained in them, were wholly new, unprecedented,
and in direct contradiction to all ideas of justice, and the principles
and usages of civilized nations. The French Government did not
pretend to say that any one of the regulations contained in those de
crees was a regulation which France had ever been in the previous
practice of They were, consequently, to be considered, and were in
deed allowed by France herself to be, all of them, parts of a new
system of warfare, unauthorized by the established law of nations. It
was in this light in which France herself had placed her decrees, that
Great Britain was obliged to consider them.
The submission of nehtrals to any regulation made by France, au
thorized by the law of nations, and practised in former wars, would
never be complained of by Great Britain ; but the regulations of the
Berlin and Milan decrees did, and were declared to violate the laws
of nations and the rights of neutrals, for the purpose of attacking,
through them, the resources of Great Britain. The ruler of France
had drawn no distinction between any of them, nor had he declared
the cessation of any one of them.
Not until the French decrees, therefore, it was contended by the
British minister, shall be effectually repealed, and thereby neutral
commerce be restored to the situation in which it stood previously to
their promulgation, can his royal highness conceive himself justified,
consistently with what he owes to the safety and honor of Great

WAR WITH ENGLAND. 287
Britain, in foregoing the just measures of retaliation which his majesty,
in his defence, was necessitated to adopt against them.
The Berlin and Milan decrees prohibited every thing that was
the manufacture or product of Great Britain from being imported to
the Continent, under any pretence whatever, whether owned by
British subjects, or owned and transported by neutrals. This latter
part of the decrees was in violation of the rights of neutrality. They
also, at the same time, prohibited all trade, on the part of neutrals.
with the British dominions. This portion was now repealed, so far
as it affected the United States. They were allowed to trade- with
Great Britain and her dependencies, but were not permitted to carry
to the Continent any goods that were the manufacture or produce of
Great Britain, though they might have been purchased, and were
actually owned by American citizens. Great Britain insisted that
she could not repeal her orders in council, so long as the United
States suffered this infraction of their rights of neutrality. On the
other hand, it was contended that Great Britain had pledged herself
to repeal the orders in council whenever the decrees were revoked
The decrees, it was said, were now revoked as it regarded the United
States ; but Britain, in violation of her pledge, persisted in refusing
to repeal her orders. The whole question, then, was narrowed down
to this : Had the Berlin and Milan decrees been revoked, in the
sense it was understood by the parties, at the time of the pledge?
Great Britain said they had not. The United States said they had
been revoked, according to the understanding.
In this attitude matters stood, when Congress, on the 4th of No
vember, 1811, was called together by proclamation of the President.
" At the close of the last session of Congress,'' says the message,
" it was hoped that the successive confirmations of the extinction of
the French decrees, so far as they violated our neutral commerce,
would have induced the govemment of Great Britain to repeal its
orders in council, and thereby authorize the removal of the existing
obstructions to her commerce with the United States. Instead of
this reasonable step towards Satisfaction and friendship between the
two nations, the orders were, at a moment when least to have been
expected, put into more rigorous execution ; and it was communi
cated, through the British envoy just arrived, that whilst the revocation
of the edicts of France, as officially made known to the British Gov-

288 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
ernment, was denied to have taken place, it was an indispensable con
dition of the repeal of the British orders that commerce should ba
restored to a footing that would admit the manufactures and pro
ductions of Great Britain, when owned by neutrals, into markets
shut against them by her enemy — the United States being given to
understand that, in the mean time, a continuation of the non-importa
tion act would lead to measures of retaliation. » * * * ^ *
" With the evidence of hostile infiexibility, in trampling on our
rights, which no independent nation can reliquish. Congress will
feel the duty of putting the United States into an armor and an
attitude demanded by the crisis, and corresponding with the national
spirit and expectations,"
The subject was referred to a committee, who, in a report, reviewed
the grounds of complaint, and concluded with offering a series of reso
lutions, the object of which was, to put the United States imme
diately "into an armor and attitude demanded by the crisis," The
friends of the administration admitted that they urged the resolu
tions as an immediate preparation for war. That war was inevitable,
and would be declared so soon as the nation was put into a posture
of defence. It was also said in debate that one of the objects, and
a necessary result of the war, would be the conquest of Canada.
On the 10th day of December, Mr, Eandolph made one of his
most powerful and eloquent speeches in opposition to these war mea
sures. As the speech is to be found in most of the collections of
American eloquence that have been published from time to time, we
must content ourselves with an extract here and there, barely suffi
cient to explain in his own words the grounds of opposition,
" It is a question," said Mr. Eandolph, " as it has been presented
to the House, of peace or war. In that light it has been regarded ;
in no other light can I consider it, after declarations made by mem
bers of the Committee of Foreign Eolations. Without intending any
disrespect to the chair, I must be permitted to say, that if the deci
sion yesterday was correct, ' that it was not in order to advance any
arguments against the resolution, drawn from topics before other
committees of the House,' the whole debate — nay, the report itself
on which we are acting — is disorderly, since the increase of the mili
tary force is a subject at this time in agitation by the select com
mittee raised on that branch of the President's message. But it is

WAR WITH ENGLAND. 289
impossible that the discussion of a question, broad as the wide ocean,
of our foreign concerns, involving every consideration of interest, of
right, of happiness, and of safety at home ; touching in every point
all that is dear to freemen — ' their Uves, their fortunes, and their
sacred honor ; ' can be tied down by the narrow rules of technical
routine. The Committee of Foreign Eelations has indeed decided
that the subject of arming the militia (which I pressed upon them as
indispensable to the public safety) does not come within the scope of
their authority. On what ground, I have been, and still am, unable
to see. They have felt themselves authorized (when the subject was
before another committee) to recommend the raising of standing
armies, with a view (as has been declared) of immediate war — a war
not of defence, but of conquest, of aggrandizement, of ambition — a
war foreign to the interests of this country, to the interests of huma
nity itself
" I know not how gentlemen calling themselves republicans can
advocate such a war. What was their doctrine in 1798-9, when the
command of the army, that highest of all possible trusts in any
government, be the form what it may, was reposed in the bosom
of the Father of his country ! the sanctuary of a nation's love ] —
the only hope that never came in vain? When other worthies
of the revolution, Hamilton, Pinckney, and the younger Wash
ington, men of tried patriotism, of approved condi^ct and valor,
of untarnished honor, held subordinate command under him ?
EepubUcans were then unwilling to trust a standing army even
to his hands, who had given proof that he was above all human
temptation. Where now is the revolutionary hero to whom you are
about to confide this sacred trust ? To whom will you confide the
charge of leading the flower of your youth to the heights of Abra
ham ? Will you find him in the person of an acquitted felon ?
What I Then you were unwilling to vote an army, when such men as
have been named held high command ! When Washington himself
was at the head, did you then show such reluctance, feel such scru
ple ? And are you now nothing loth, fearless of every consequence ?
Will you say that your provocations were less then than now, when
your direct commerce was interdicted, your ambassadors hooted with
derision from the French court, tribute demanded, actual war waged
upon you ? Those who opposed the army then were indeed denounced
VOL. L 13

290 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
as the partisans of France, as the same men — some of them at least-
are now held up as the advocates of England ; those firm and unde-
viating' republicans, who then dared, and now dare, to cling to the
ark of the Constitution, to defend it even at the expense of their fame,
rather than surrender themselves to the wild projects of mad ambi
tion. There is a fatality, sir, attending plenitude of power. Soon or
late some mania seizes upon its possessors ; they fall from the dizzy
height, through the giddiness of their own heads. Like a vast estate,
heaped up by the labor and industry of one man, wh.ch seldom sur
vives the third generation. Power gained by patient assiduity, by a
faithful and regular discharge of its attendant duties, soon gets above
its own origin. " Intoxicated with their own greatness, the federal
party fell. Will not the same causes produce the same effects now
as then ? Sir, you may raise this army, you may build up this vast
structure of patronage, this mighty apparatus of favoritism ; but
' lay not the flattering unction to your souls,' you will never live to
enjoy the succession : you sign your political death warrant. * * * *
" This war of conquest, a war for the acquisition of territory and
subjects, is to be a new commentary on the doctrine that republics
are destitute of ambition ; they are addicted to peace, wedded to the
hsippiness and safety of the great body of their people. But it seems
this is to be a holiday campaign ; there is to be no expense of blood
01 treasure on our part ; Canada is to conquer herself ; she is to be
subdued by the principles of fraternity. The people of that country
are first to be seduced from their allegiance, and converted into trai
tors, as preparatory to the making them good citizens. Although I
must acknowledge that some of our flaming patriots were thus man
ufactured, I do not think the process would hold good with a whole
community. It is a dangerous experiment. We are to succeed in
the French mode — by the system of fraternization. All is French i
But how dreadfully it might be retorted on the southern and western
slaveholding States, I detest this subornation of treason. No : if
we must have them, let them fall by the valor of our arms ; by fair,
legitimate conquest ; not become the victims of treacherous seduction.
" I am not surprised at the war-spirit which is manifesting itself
in gentlemen from the South, In the year 1805-6, in a struggle for
the carrying trade of belligerent colonial produce, this country was
most unwisely brought into collision with the great powers of Europe,

WAR WITH ENGLAND. 291
By a series of most impolitic and ruinous measures, utterly incom
prehensible to every rational, sober-minded man, the Southern plant
ers, by their own votes, succeeded in knocking down the price of cot
ton to seven cents, and of tobacco (a few choice crops excepted) to
nothing, and in raising the price of blankets (of which a few would
not be amiss in a Canadian campaign), coarse woollens, and every ar
ticle of first necessity, three or four hundred per cent. And now
that by our own acts we have brought ourselves into this unprece
dented condition, we must get out of it in any way but by an ac
knowledgment of our own want of wisdom and forecast. But is war
the true remedy ? Who will profit by it ? Speculators ; a few lucky
merchants, who draw prizes in the lottery ; commissaries , and con
tractors. Who must suffer by it ? The people. It is their blood,
their taxes, that must flow to support it.
" But gentlemen avowed that they would not go to war for the
carrying trade ; that is, for any other but the direct export and im
port trade — that which carries our native products abroad, and brings
back the return cargo ; and yet they stickle for our commercial
rights, and will go to war for them ! I wish to know, in point of
principle, what difference gentlemen can point out between the aban
donment of this or of that maritime right ? Do' gentlemen assume
the lofty port and tone of chivalrous redressers of maritime wrongs,
and declare their readiness to surrender every other maritime right,
provided they may remain unmolested in the exercise of the humble
privilege of carrying their own produce abroad, and bringing back a
return cargo ? Do you make this declaration to the enemy at the
outset ? Do you state the minimum with which you will be contented,
and put it in her power to close with your proposals at her option ?
give her the basis of a treaty ruinous and disgraceful beyond exam
ple and expression ? and this too after having turned up your noses
in disdain at the treaties of Mr. Jay and Mr. Monroe ? Will you
say to England, ' End the icar when you please; give us the direct
trade in our oivn pwduce, ice are content V But what will the mer
chants of Salem, and Boston, and New York, and Philadelphia, and
Baltimore — the men of Marblehead and Cape Cod, say to this ?
Will they join in a war professing to have for its object what they
would consider, and justly too. as the sacrifice of their maritime
rights, yet affecting to be a war for the protection of commerce ?

292 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
" I am gratified to find gentlemen acknowledging the demoral
izing and destructive consequences of tbe non-importation law ; con
fessing the truth of all that its opponents foretold when enacted ; and
will you plunge yourselves in war, because you have passed a foolish
and ruinous law, and are ashamed to repeal it? 'But our good
friend, the French Emperor, stands in the way of its repeal,' and, as
we cannot go too far in making sacrifices to him, who has given such
demonstration of his love for the Americans, we must, in point of fact,
become parties to this war. ' Who can be so cruel as to refuse him
this favor?' My imagination shrinks from the miseries of such con
nection. I call upon the House to reflect whether they are not about
to abandon all reclamation for the unparalleled outrages, ' insults and
injuries' of the French Government ; to give up our claim for plun
dered millions^_and ask what reparation or atonement we can expect
to obtain in hours of future dalliance, after we shall have made a ten
der of our persons to this great deflowerer of the virginity of repub
lics. We have, by our own wise (I will not say vnse-acre) measures,
so increased the trade of Montreal and Quebec, that at last we be
gin to cast a wistful eye at Canada. Having done so much towards
its improvement, by the exercise of our ' restrictive energies,' we be
gin to think the laborer is worthy of his hire, and to put in claim for
our portion. Suppose it ours, are we any nearer our point ? As his
minister said to the King of Epirus, ' May we not as well take our
bottle of wine before as after this exploit?' Go ! march to Canada !
Leave the broad bosom of the Chesapeake, and her hundred tributary
rivers, the whole line of sea-coast, from Machias to St Mary's, unpro
tected : you have taken Quebec — have you conquered England ?
WiU you seek for the deep foundations of ber ^ower in the frozen
deserts of Labrador ?
' Her march is on the mountain wave.
Her home is on the deep !'
WiU you call upon her to leave your ports and harbors untoucbed,
only just till you can return from Canada to defend them ? Tho coast
is to be left defenceless, whilst men of the interior are revelling in
conquest and spoil. But grant for a moment, for mere argument's
sake, that in Canada you touched the sinews of her strength, instead
of removing a clog upon her resources— an incumbrance, but one,

WAR WITH ENGLAND. 293
which, from a spirit of honor, she will vigorously defend. In what
situation would you then place some of the best men of the nation ?
As Chatham and Burke, and the whole band of her patriots prayed
for her defeat in 1776, so must some of the truest friends of the
country deprecate the success of our arms against the only power that
holds in check the arch enemy of mankind.
" Our people will not submit to be taxed for this war of conquest
and dominion. The government of the United States was not calcu
lated to wage offensive foreign war ; it was instituted for the common
defence and general welfare ; and whosoever will embark it in a war
of offence, will put it to a test which it is by no means calculat(,d to
endure. Make it out that Great Britain did instigate the Indians
on a late occasion, and I am ready for battle, but not for dominion.
I am unwilling, however, under present circumstances, to take Can
ada at the risk of the Constitution ; to embark in a common cause
with France, and be dragged at the wheels of the ear of some Burr
or Bonaparte. For a gentleman from Tennessee, or Genesee, or lake
Champlain, there may be some prospect of advantage. Their hemp
would bear a great price by the exclusion of foreign supply. In that^
too, the great importers were deeply interested. The upper country
on the Hudson and the lakes, would be enriched by the suppUes for
the troops, which they alone could furnish. They would have the
exclusive market ; to say nothing of the increased preponderance
from the acquisition of Canada, and that section of the Union, which
the southern and western States had already felt so severely in the
apportionment bill."
Mr. Randolph dwelt on the danger arising from the black popula
tion. He said he would touch this subject as tenderly as possible ;
it was with reluctance that he touched it at all ; but in cases of great
emergency the state physician must not be deterred by a sickly, hys
terical humanity, from probing the wound of his patient ; he must not
be withheld by a fastidious and mistaken humanity from representing
his true situation to his friends, or even to the sick man himself, where
the occasion called for it. " What, sir, is the situation of the slavehold
ing States ? During the war of the Eevolution, so fixed were their
habits of subordination, that while the whole country was overrun by
the enemy, who invited them to desert, no fear was ever entertained
of an insurrection of the slaves. During a war of seven years, with

294 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
our country in possession of the enemy, ho such danger was ever ap
prehended. But should we therefore be unobservant spectators of
the progress of society within the last twenty years ? of the silent
but powerful change wrought by time and chance upon its composi
tion and temper ? When the fountains of the great deep of abomi
nation were broken up, even the poor slaves escaped not the general
deluge. The French revolution polluted even them. Nay, there
were not wanting men in that House — witness their legislative Le-
gendre, the butcher who once held a seat there — to preach upon that
floor, these impresoriptable rights to a crowded audience of blacks in
the galleries ; teaching them that they are equal to their masters ; in
other words, advising them to cut their throats. Similar doctrines
are disseminated by pedlars from New England, and elsewhere.
throughout the Southern country ; and masters have been found so
infatuated, as by their lives and conversation, by a general contempt
of order, moraUty and reUgion, unthinkingly to cherish those seeds
of self-destruction to them and their families. What is the conse
quence ? Within the last ten years, repeated alarms of insurrection
among the slaves ; some of them awful indeed. From the spread
ing of this infernal doctrine, the whole Southern country has been
thrown into a state of insecurity. Men dead to the operation of
moral causes, have taken away from the poor slave his habits of loy
alty and obedience to his master, which lightened his servitude by a
double operation — beguiling his own cares, and disarming his mas
ter's suspicions and severity ; and now, like true empirics in poUtics,
you are called upon to trust to the mere physical strength of the fet
ter which holds him in bondage. You have deprived him of all
moral restraint ; you have tempted him to eat of the tree of knowl
edge, just enough to perfect him in wickedness ; you have opened his
eyes to his nakedness ; you have armed his nature against the hand
that has fed, that has clothed him, that has cherished him in sick
ness ; that hand which, before he became a pupil of your school, he
had been accustomed tg press with respectful affection. You have
done all this, and then, show him the gibbet and the wheel, as incen
tives to a sullen, repugnant obedience. God forbid, sir, that the
southern States should ever see an enemy on their shores, with these
infernal principles of French fraternity in the van. While talking
of taking Canada, some of us are shuddering for our own safety at

WAR WITH ENGLAND. 295
home. I speak from facts when I say, that the night-bell never tolls
for fire in Eichmond, that the mother does not hug the infant more
closely to her bosom. I have been a witness of some of the alarms
in the capital of Virginia,"
Mr, Eandolph then proceeded to notice J;he unjust and illiberal
imputation of British attachments, against certain characters in this
country ; sometimes insinuated in the House, but openly avowed
out of it, " Against whom are these charges brought ? Against men
who in the war of the Eevolution were in the councils of the nation, or
fighting the battles of your country. And by whom are they made ?
"By runaways, chiefiy jfrom the British dominions, since the breaking
out of the French troubles. It is insufferable ! It cannot be borne !
It must, and ought, with severity, to be put down in this House, and
out of it, to meet the lie direct. We have no fellow-feeling for the
suffering and oppressed Spaniards ! Yet even them we do not rep
robate. Strange ! that we should have no objection to any other
people or government, civilized or savage, in the whole world. The
great autocrat of all the Eussias receives the homage of our high
consideration ; the Dey of Algiers, and his divan of pirates, are very
civil, good sort of people, with whom we find no difficulty in main
taining the relations of peace and amity ; ' Turks, Jews, and Infi
dels ;' Melimelli, or the Little Turtle; barbarians and savages, of
every clime and color, are welcome to our arms ; with chiefs of ban
ditti, negro or mulatto, we can ti-eat and can trade — name, however,
but England, and all our antipathies- are up in arms against her.-
Against whom ? Against those whose blood runs in our own veins ;
in common with whom we can claim Shakspeare, and Newton, and
Chatham for our countrymen ; whose form of government is the freest
on earth, our own only excepted ; from whom every valuable princi
ple of our own institutions has been borrowed — representation, jury
trial, voting the supplies, writs of habeas corpus — our whole civil and
criminal jurisprudence ; against our fellow-protestants, identified in
blood, in language, in religion with ourselves. In what school did
the worthies of our land, the Washingtons, Henrys, Hancocks, Frank
lins, Eutleges, of America, learn those principles of civil liberty which
were so nobly asserted by their wisdom and valor ? And American
resistance to British usurpation had not been more warmly cherished
by these great men and their compatriots ; not more by WashingtewL

296 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Hancock, and Henry, than by Chatham, and his illustrious associates
in the British Parliament, It ought to be remembered, too, that the
heart of the English people was with us. It was a selfish and cor
rupt ministry, and their servile tools, to whom we were not more op
posed than they were. I trust that none such may ever exist among
us ; for tools will never be wanted to subserve the purposes, however
ruinous or wicked, of kings and ministers of state.
" But the outrages and injuries of England. Bred up in the
principles of the Eevolution, I can never palliate, much less defend
them. I well remember flying with my mother, and her new-born
child, from Arnold and Philips ; and they had been driven by Tarle
ton, and other British pandours, from pillar to post, while her hus
band was fighting the battles of his country. The impression is in
delible on my memory ; and yet (like my worthy old neighbor, who
added seven buckshot to every cartridge at the battle of Guilford,
and drew a fine sight at his man) I must be content to be called a
tory by a patriot of the last importation. Let us not get rid of one
evil, supposing it possible, at the expense of a greater. Suppose
France in possession of the British naval power — and to her the tri
dent must pass should England be unable to wield it — what would
be your condition ? What would be the situation of your seaports
and their seafaring inhabitants ? Ask Hamburg, Lubec — ask Savan
nah ? What ! sir, when their privateers are pent up in our harbors
by the British bull-dogs ; when they receive at our hands every rite
of hospitality, from which their enemy is excluded ; when they cap
ture within our waters, interdicted to British armed ships, American
vessels ; when such is their deportment toward you, under sucli cir
cumstances, what could you expect if they were the uncontrolled lords
of the ocean ? Had those privateers at Savannah borne British com
missions, or had your shipments of cotton, tobacco, ashes, and what
not, to London and Liverpool been confiscated, and the proceeds
poured into the English exchequer, my life upon it ! you would
never have listened to any miserable wire-drawn distinctions between
' orders and decrees affecting our neutral rights,' and ' municipal de
crees,' confiscating in mass your whole property. You would have
had instant war ! The whole land would have blazed out in war.
" And shall republicans become the instruments of him who has
effaced the title of Attila to the ' scourge of God !' Yet, even

WAR WITH ENGLAND, 297,
Attila, in the falling fortunes of civilization, had, no doubt, his advo
cates, his tools, his minions, his parasites, in the very countries that
he overran — sons of that soil whereon his horse had trod, where grass
could never after grow. If perfectly fresh," Mr. Eandolph said, "in
stead of being as I am — my memory clouded, my intellect stupefied,
my strength and spirits exhausted — I could not give utterance to that
strong detestation which I feel toward (above all other works of the
creation) such characters as Zingis, Tamerlane, Kouli Khan, or Bo
naparte. My instincts involuntarily revolt at their bare idea — male
factors of the human race, who ground down man to a mere machine
of their impious and bloody ambition. Yet, under all the accumu
lated wrongs, and insults, and robberies of the last of these chief
tains, are we not, in point of fact, about to become a party to his
views, a partner in his wars ?
" I beseech the House, before they run their heads against this
post, Quebec, to count the cost. My word for it, Virginia planters
will not be taxed to support such a war ; a war which must aggravate
their present distresses ; in which they have not the remotest inter
est. Where is the Montgomery, or even the Arnold, or the Burr,
who is to march to the Point Levi ? ;
" I call upon those professing to be republicans, to make good the
promises held out by their republican predecessors when they came'
into power; promises, which for years afterwards, they honestly,
faithfully fulfilled, ¦ We vaunted of paying off the national debt, of
retrenching useless establishments ; and yet have now become as in
fatuated with standing armies, loans, taxes, navies and war, as ever
were the Essex junto. What republicanism is this ?"
Mr, Eandolph resolutely and earnestly combated every measure
that had a tendency to widen the breach between the United States
and Great Britain, and to precipitate them into a war.
On the 1st of April, 1812, the Pj-esident sent in a secret message^
recommending an immediate embargo. The Committee of Foreign
Eelations, in anticipation of the message, had a bill already prepared :
it was read the first and second time, reported to the Committee of
the Whole, referred back to the House, and immediately put on its
passage. Some member wished to know whether it was to be con
sidered as a peace measure, or a precursor to war.
Mr. Grundy, a member of the committee, replied that he under-
VOL. I. 13*

298 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
stood it as a war measure ; and it is meant, said he, that it shall lead
directly to it.
Mr Clay (the Speaker) warmly expressed his satisfaction and full
approbation of the message, and the proposition before the House.
Mr. Eandolph then rose : " I am so impressed," said he, " with
the importance of the subject and the solemnity of the occasion, that
I cannot be silent. Sir, we are now in conclave ; the eyes of the sur
rounding world are not upon us : we are shut up here from the light of
heaven, but the eyes of God are upon us. He knows the spirit of our
minds. Shall we deliberate upon this subject with the spirit of
sobriety and candor, or with that spirit which has too often charac
terized our discussions upon occasions like the present? We ought
to realize that we are in the presence of that God who knows our
thoughts and motives, and to whom we must hereafter render an ac
count for the deeds done in the body. I hope, sir, the spirit of party,
and every improper passion, will be exorcised, that our hearts may
be as pure and clean as fall to the lot of human nature.
" I am confident in the declaration, Mr. Chairman, that this is
not a measure of the Executive ; but that it is engendered by an
extensive excitement upon the Executive — * * * *
'¦ I will appeal to the sobriety and refiection of the House, and
ask, what new cause of war for the last twelve months ? What new
cause of embargo within that period ? The affair of the Chesapeake
is settled. — No new principles of blockade interpolated into the laws
of nations. I suppose every man of candor and sober refiection will
ask why we did not go to war twelve months ago? Or will it be said
we ought to make up, by our promptness now, for our slowness then ?
Or will it be said, that if the wheat for which we have received two
dollars a bushel had been rotting in our barns, we should have been
happier and richer. What would the planter say, if you were to ask
him which he would prefer, — the honorable, chivalrous course advo
cated by the Speaker, with the consequences which must attend it,
the sheriff at his back, and the excise collector pressing him? He
would laugh in your face. It is not generally wise to dive into
futurity ; but it is wise to profit by experience, although it may be
unpleasant. I feel much concerned to have the bUl on the table for
one hour."
But he was not allowed that privilege. The bill was immediately

WAR WITH ENGLAND. 299
hurried through the forms of legislation, and became a law in a short
time after the President's message that recommended it had been
read. On the 29th of May, 1812, having learned that a proposition
would certainly be made in a few days to declare war, he rose and
stated that he had a motion to make. He then commenced a speech,
involving generally the present state of our relations with France
and Great Britain. After he had spoken for some time, a q aestioh
of order was raised, and it was decided by the Speaker that the gen
tleman ought, previous to debating so much at large, to submit his
motion to the House.
"After some desultory debate, and decisions on points of order, Mr.
Eandolph submitted the following proposition : " Tliat under present
circumstances, it is inexpedient to resort to a war with Gi'cat
Britain." The question being taken, that the House do now proceed to the
consideration of the said resolution, it was by a large majority de
cided in the negative. By this most unparliamentary proceeding, as
he thought, the subject was taken from before the House, and Mr.
Eandolph was deprived of an opportunity, if not denied the right, of
addressing them on the momentous questions involved in his resolu
tion. Next day he addressed the following letter to his constituents:
To the Freeholders of Charlotte, Prince Edward, Buckingham, and
Cumberland.
Fellow-Citizens, — I dedicate to you the following fragment.
That it appears in its present mutilated shape, is to be ascribed to
the successful usurpation which has reduced the freedom of speech
in one branch of the American Congress to an empty name. It is
now established, for the first time, and in the person of your repre
sentative, that the House may and will refuse to hear a member in his
place, or even to receive a motion from him, upon the most moment
ous subject that can be presented for legislative decision. A simi
lar motion was brought forward by the republican minority in the
year 1798, before these modern inventions for stifling the freedom of
debate were discovered. It was discussed as a matter of right, until
it was abandoned by the mover, in consequence of additional infor
mation (the correspondence of our envoy at Paris) laid before Con-

300 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
gress by the President. In " the reign of terror," the father of the
sedition law had not the hardihood to proscribe liberty of speech,
much less the right of free debate on the floor of Congress. This
invasion of the public liberties was reserved for self-styled republi
cans, who hold your understandings in such contempt, as to flatter
themselves that you will overlook their every outrage upon the great
first principles of free govemment, in consideration of their profes
sions of tender regard for the privileges of the people. It is for you
to decide whether they have undervalued your intelligence and spirit,
or whether they have formed a just estimate of your charaeter. You
do not require to be told that the violation of the rights of him whom
you have deputed to represent you is an invasion of the rights of
every man of you, of every individual in society. If this abuse be
suffered to pass unredressed — and the people alone are competent to
apply the remedy — ^we must bid adieu to' a free form of governmeiit
for ever. ^
Having learned from various sources that a declaration of war
would be attempted on Monday next, with closed doors, I deemed it
my duty to endeavor, by an exercise of my constitutional functions,
to arrest this heaviest of all calamities, and avert it from our happy
country. I accordingly made the effort of which I now give you the
result, and of the success of which you will have already been informed
before these pages can reach you. I pretend only to give you the
substance of my unfinished argument. The glowing words, the lan
guage of the heart, have passed away with the occasion that called
them forth. They are no longer under my control. My design is
simply to submit to you the views which have induced me to consi
der a war ^ith England, under existing circumstances, as comporting
neither with the interest nor the honor of the American people ; but
as an idolatrous sacrifice of both, on the altar of French rapacity,
perfidy and ambition.
France has for years past offered us terms of undefined commer
cial arrangement, as the price of a war with England, which hitherto
we have not wanted firmness and virtue to reject That price is now
to be paid. We. are tired of holding out; and, following the exam
ple of continental Europe, entangled in the artifices, or awed by the
power of the destroyer of mankind, we are prepared to become
instrumental to his projects of universal dominion. Before these

WAR WITH ENGLAND. gQl
pages meet your eye, the last republic of tlie earth vrill have enlisted
under tlie banners of the tyrant and become a party to his cause.
The blood of the American freemen must flow to cement his power, to
aid in stifling the last struggles of afflicted and persecuted man, to
deliver up into his hands the patriots of Spain and Portugal, to estab
lish his empire over the ocean and over the land that gave our fathers
birth — to forge our own chains ! And yet, my friends, we are told,
as we were told in the days of Mr. Adams, " the finger of heaven
points to war." Yes, the finger of heaven does point to war ! It points
to war,' as it points to the mansions of eternal misery and torture — -
as a flaming beacon warning us of that vortex which we may not
approach but with certain destruction. It points to desolated Europe,
and warns us of the chastisement of those nations who have offended
against the justice, and almost beyond the mercy, of heaven. It
announces the wrath to come upon those who, ungrateful for the
bounty of Providence, not satisfied with the peace, liberty, security
and plenty at home, fly, as it were, into the face of the Most High,
and tempt his forbearance.
To you, in this place, I can speak with freedom ; and it becomes
me to do so ; nor shall I be deterred by the cavils and the sneers of
those who hold as " foolishness " all that savors not of worldly wis
dom, from expressing fully and freely those sentiments which it has
pleased God, in his mercy, to engrave on my heart.
These are no ordinary times ; the state of the world is unexam
pled ; the war of the present day is not like that of our revolution,
or any which preceded it, at least in modern times. It is a war against
the liberties and the happiness of mankind ; it is a war in which the
whole human race are the victims, to gratify the pride and lust of
power of a single individual. I beseech you, put it to your own
bosoms, how far it becomes you as freemen, as Christians, to give
your aid and sanction to this impious and bloody war against your
brethren of the human family. To such among you, if any such
there be, who are insensible to motives not more dignifled and manly
than they are intrinsically wise, I would make a different appeal. I
adjure you by the regard you have for your own safety and property,
for the liberty and inheritance of your children — by all that you hold
dear and sacred — to interpose your constitutional powers to save

302 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
your country and yourselves from the calamity, the issue of which
it is not given to human foresight to divine.
Ask yourselves if you are willing to become the virtual allies of
Bonaparte ? Are you willing, for the sake of annexing Canada to
the Northern States, to submit to that overgrowing system of tax
ation which sends the European laborer supperless to bed, to main
tain, by the sweat of your brow, armies at whose hands you are to
receive a future master ? Suppose Canada ours ; is there any one
among you who would ever be, in any respect, the better for it ? — the
richer, the freer, the happier, the more secure ? And is it for a boon
like this that you would join in the warfare against the liberties of
man in the othey hemisphere, and put your own in jeopardy ? Or is
it for the nominal privilege of a licensed trade with France that you
would abandon your lucrative commerce with Great Britain, Spain
and Portugal, and their Asiatic, African, and American dependencies ;
in a word, with every region of those vast continents ? — that com
merce which gives vent to your tobacco, grain, flour, cotton ; in short,
to all your native products, which are denied a market in France ?
There are not wanting men so weak as to suppose that their appro
bation of warlike measures is a proof of personal gallantry, and that
opposition to them indicates a want of that spirit which becomes a
friend of his country ; as if it required more courage and patriotism
to join in the acclamation of the day, than steadily to oppose one's
self to the mad infatuation to which every people and all governments
have, at some time or other, given way. Let the history of Phocion,
of Agis, and of the De Witts, answer this question.
My friends, do you expect to flnd those who are now loudest in
the clamor for war, foremost in the ranks of battle ? Or, is the honor
of this nation indissolubly connected- with the political reputation of
a few individuals, who tell you they have gone too far to recede, and
that you must pay, with your ruin, the price of their consistency ?
My friends, I have discharged my duty towards you, lamely and
inadequately, I know, but to the best of my poor ability. The des
tiny of the American people is in their own hands. The net is spread
for their destruction. You are enveloped in the toils of French
duplicity, and if — which may Heaven in its mercy forbid — ^you and
your posterity are to become hewers of wood and drawers of water
to the modem Pharoah, it shall not be for the want of my best exer-

CLAY— CALHOUN 303
tions to rescue you from the cruel and abject bondage. This sin, at
least, shall not rest upon my soul. John Eandolph of Eoanokk.
May 30th, 1812.

CHAPTEE XXXVII.

CLAY— CALHOUN .

On the 18th of June, 1812, an act was approved by the President de
claring that a state of war existed between the United States and
Great Britain. It forms no part of the plan of this biography to
enter into the details of the war. From them the student of history
can derive but little information as to the causes of the growth,
development and decay of nations. But there is an inquiry that
might properly be made here, immediately bearing on this great
subject, and deeply affecting the public conduct of John Eandolph
at the same time : might not this war liave been avoided ? might
not the nation have saved the blood and treasure wasted in its pros
ecution, and escaped the evil consequences, both moral and political,
that followed in its train ? John Eandolph declared that it might
have been done ; his whole opposition was based on, the conviction
that there was no need for such an extreme measure. " We can
escape this conflict, said he, with honor — it is our duty to wait. " No
new cause of war had arisen — there would have been as much rea
son for the step in the June preceding as there was at the time of
the declaration. The reader is already aware of the grounds of
complaint against Great Britain ; he must be satisfied also that there
was at least some color of reason for the course which she declared
she was compelled to pursue towards neutrals, in order to save her
own existence in the general wreck of European nations.
As to the impressment of seamen, she only claimed the right
to search for British subjects on board of American merchant ves
sels ; yet it was one, arising from the common origin of the two
nations, most difficult , to be enforced, liable to be abused, and was
greatly abused by proud and insolent naval officers. But because

304 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
there was right and reason on both sides, this was not between
rational people a subject of war, but of adjustment and compromise,
and in truth it was adjusted to the satisfaction of Mr. Monroe
and Mr. Pinckney in the treaty of December, 1806 ; but the Presi
dent, as we know, put that treaty in his pocket, and refused to sub
mit it to the consideration of the Senate,
As to the denial of our right to the carrying trade, and the
question of constructive blockade, which had been so much discussed,
and were charged as interpolations by Great Britain into the law
of nations, they were now swallowed up by the orders in council.
The reader is informed of the exact posture of that question on the
4th of November, 1811, when Congress was first assembled. It
was narrowed down to this : Britain declared, that, notwithstanding
the revocation of the French decrees^so far as they affected the United
States, she could not repeal her orders until the United States
should procure a further modification so as to allow goods of British
origin owned by American citizens to be carried to France and
other parts of the continent. As the matter stood they were only
restored to half their rights as a neutral power. By the law of na
tions, enemy's goods not contraband of war, purchased and owned
by neutrals, are lawful subjects of trade ; but there lay the rub ; in
the exercise or non-exercise of this right was involved the commer
cial jealousy and rivalry of the two nations. The Uiiited States did
not want a restoration of their rights, because if British goods un
der cover of the American flag could be carried to the continent, it
would at once open a vast and profitable outlet to the manufactures
and other products of England, now locked up in their warehouses,
and would cut off that monopoly enjoyed by the citizens of the
United States in consequence of the prohibition laid on all articles
of English origin. It was not then a question of principle, but one
of pure commercial rivalry.
England urged on the United States that she should demand a
restoration of all her rights as a neutral nation ; the United States
replied that they had been restored as far as they required, and
insisted that England should comply with her pledges, and proceed
pari passu with France in the repeal of her orders in council. The
true motives for the persistence of both in their demands, were very
perceptible, but by neither were avowed. Here then was the whole

CLAY— CALHOUN. 305
question, and on this issue the Congress of the United States resolv
ed to go to war.
But in the position assumed by the British ministry, which was
certainly plausible, if not just, they were not sustained by the
nation. The clamors of the commercial .and manufacturing inter
ests were heard in Parliament and by the Eoyal cabinet. There
was a powerful and influential party, with Canning at their head
that demanded a repeal of the orders in council ; the ministry were
dissolved, and a commission given by the prince regent to one of
the opposition party to form a cabinet friendly to American inter
ests. Owing to the discordant elements of the opposition itself, and
not to any difficulty on this question, the new organization did not
take place at that time, but these circumstances manifested the tem
per of the nation, and showed plainly that the obnoxious measures
of government must soon be condemned and repealed. These facts
were known to the Congress of the United States before the declara
tion of war, and they must have convinced any reasonable and
candid mind that a favorable change in the posture of affairs was to
be expected at no distant period. And in fact on the 23d day of
June, just five days after the declaration of war, it was ordered and
declared by the prince regent, in council, " that the order in coun
cil, bearing date the 7th of January, 1807, and the order in council
bearing date the 26th of April, 1809, be revoked, so far as may re
gard American vessels and their cargoes, being American property,
from the flrst day of August next."
The embargo that was laid preparatory to war, commenced the
4th of April, and was to last ninety days — until the 4th of July,
No one expected war to be declared before that period. Mr. Madi
son, it was well known, wished the embargo to be extended to four
months ; that is, to the 4th of August. A motion was actually made
in the House to this effect, but was rejected. He said, that if at the
end of four months no favorable news came from abroad, he would
then be ready to recommend a declaration of war. By the 4th of
August, news carae of the repeal of the orders in council ! Had
his inclinations then been followed, the nation might have been saved
from all the disastrous consequences of the precipitate action of Con
gress. Mr. Madison, indeed, was not favorable to the embargo — ^it was

306 L^FE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
I'-jrced upon him. "I am confident in the declaration," said Mr.
Eandolph, in conclave, " that this is not a measure of the executive,
but that it is engendered by an extensive excitement upon the exec
utive." The relation of the two great departments of government
had entirely changed from what it was in the days of Mr. Jefferson ;
then the commanding power of a great mind and a determined will
gave direction to all the measures of the legislature, but now the
master-spirits that controlled affairs were to be found on the floor of
Congress. The Speaker of the House of Eepresentatives, and the
leading member of the Committee of Foreign Affairs, from their
position, if they had talents, were most likely to exert a large influ-
ence over the proceedings of the House. The persons occupying
those stations were Henry Clay and John C. Calhoun. They were
both possessed of great minds, endowed with extraordinary powers of
eloquence, were young, ardent, ambitious, and for the first time mem
bers of the popular branch of the national legislature. In the excit
ed state of the country, a better field could not have been found for
the display of their talents. The deep enthusiasm of their souls,
the chief element of their greatness, enlivened by a brilliant imagi
nation in the one, and tempered by large faculties of reason in the
other, gave such a strength and boldness to their thoughts, that they
imparted confidence to the timid, clearness to the obscure, and infused
a portion of their own zeal into more phlegmatic natures, — none could
escape the contagion of their influence.
A few months after the opening of Congress, Mr. Eandolph,
while speaking of these new lights of the administration, said to a
friend, " They have entered this House with their eye on the Presi
dency, and mark my words, sir, we shall have war before the end of
the session !" Aside from the aspiration of a noble mind to tread
some brilliant and high career, we do not believe they had any selfish
end in view. Cold and calculating natures only influence others by
motives akin to their own. Neither calculation nor logic, but the
sympathizing impulses of a great soul, can deeply move the masses
of mankind. A magnanimous spirit, animated with the inspiring
breath of a whole people, may go forth with the confldence of a
Moses, feeling that the voice of the people is the voice of God. But
not always are the acts even of a great nation the result of divine
inspiration. Sometimes they are influenced from the opposite quar-

CLAY—CALHOUN. 307
ter of the spiritual world, and partake more of the demoniac than
the godlike.
The mere abstract question of international law involved between
Great Britain and the United States, if left to a court of admiralty
and a jury composed of citizens of the world, might have been decid
ed against them. But neither courts nor attorneys can decide the
fate of empires.
The democracy of America, which constituted the great mass of
the people of America, were thoroughly anti-British ; a common ori
gin and a common tongue served only as points of contrast. There
was a deep-rooted antipathy between them and the proud, pampered
aristocracy of England. Their sympathies were all on the side of
France and her struggles for liberty ; even Bonaparte came in for a
share of their regard. His boldness, his humble origin, his brilliant
success, shed such a halo of glory around his brow as to obscure the
darker features of his tyrannical nature. Then there were the old
memories of Bunker's Hill, Monmouth, La Fayette, Eochambeau,
and Yorktown — these household themes were familiar to every do
mestic fireside. Add the long catalogue of modern grievances — the
plunder of our commerce, the capture of our seamen, the insults to
our national flag, the insolence, and proud, contemptuous bearing bf
British officers even in our own ports — this is too much ! we will not
endure it ! We will fight rather than suffer their aristocratic inso
lence any longer — " Free trade and sailors' rights ! God and Liberty !'''
We will fight for these, come what will of it ! We will teach these
insulting English better manners, or blow them to the devil !
Such was the universal sentiment throughout the vast regions of
the south and west. Their newspapers and their popular orators
(who was not an orator in those excited times ?) proclaimed Free trade
und sailors' rights ! Without a sailor or a ship on the sea, the fiery
multitude echoed back. Free trade and sailors' rights ! This compre
hensive phrase served the same turn now, that millions for defence,
not a cent far tribute, had served on a former occasion A deep sense
of indignation and wrong, vaguely shadowed forth in that expression
'¦'•free trade and sailors' rights,'' pervaded the whole country. It was
vain to argue with people in such a teraper ; he who had the folly to
attempt it would imagine that he could arrest the bellowing thunder
storm on the point of a bodkin. Henry Clay and John C. Calhoun

308 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
were the representatives of these excited elements on the floor of
Congress ; it was in their power to temper these impetuous energies,
and to have served as conductors to the surcharged electric fires that
threatened momentary explosion ; but they were too full themselves
of the same fiery impulses to repress them in others ; they boldly
marched forward ; and knowing and feeling that the .people were
pressing close behind them, plunged the nation headlong into a ruin
ous war — we do not mean ruinous in a military sense — no one ever
doubted that our people, sooner or later, would be triumphant in
every conflict, by land and by sea. The energies and the courageiof a
free people are irrepressible and unconquerable — we mean disastrous
in the sense predicted by John Eandolph; disastrous to the Consti
tution and to the principles of the people.
Two of the avowed objects of this war were, the conquest jf Ca
nada, and the plunder of the high seas ; ends that fostered a spirit of
aggression and of retaliation unbecoming the character of our coun
try or of its peaceful institutions. We say nothing of the disturbance
®f that balance of power between the States and the Federal Govern
ment so necessary for their just and harmonious action, which was
the necessary consequence of the enormous patronage and excessive
energy of the executive in the time of a foreign war. Exhausted of
its resources by a long series of restrictive measures, the nation com
menced hostilities with borrowed money ; a large national debt was
accumulated ; a depreciated, ruinous, demoralizing paper currency
deluged the whole land, and a hot-bed system of domestic manufac
tures were stimulated into existence, at the expense of agriculture
and commerce, which were the natural sources of wealth and pros
perity to a new, wide-spread, and sparsely populated country.
The proclamation of peace found the people burdened with a na
tional debt, ruined by a depreciated curreneyj corrupted, as far as
they could be corrupted, by all the demoralizing influences which for
years had been working on their integrity ; and incumbered with in
numerable domestic manufactures, which, like Jonah's gourd, had
sprung up in a night, and could not bear the rude shocks of foreign
competition produced by returning commerce.
Those who brought on and sustained the war were necessarily
expected to find a remedy for the evils that followed in its train.
The same master-spirits who conducted the war, controlled the course

CLAY— CALHOUN. 30y
of legislation for years after the restoration of peace. They recom
mended a National Bank as the agent for managing and liquidating
the national debt, and as the means of restoring and regulating the
currency ; they advocated the imposition of heavy duties on the im
portation of foreign goods, as the means of producing a revenue to
pay the national debt, and also as a protection to those infant manu
factures, which, since the death of their nurses and foster-mother,
non-intercourse, embargo, and war, would be left entirely exposed to
the crushing weight of maturer rivals ; and as these enormcusduties
were likely soon to furnish means to pay off the national debt and to
take away the pretext for imposing them, a convenient sinking fund
was found in a system of internal improvements by th<» Federal
Government, These were the remedies furnished by the advocates
of the war to cure the evils it had produced. And how do we find
them ? just such as the federalists would have recommended — gross
violations of the Constitution, that nothing but the most imperious
necessity could tolerate, are established into precedents and made
part of a regular system of legislation — vile excrescences, that like a
cancer had eaten into the heart of the body politic, and defaced the
fair features of the Constitution, are hailed as the beautiful outgrowth
of her vital functions.
By some righteous retribution of Providence both these great men
• — for truly great they were — ^have been punished for their sins in
precipitating a war that might have been retarded, and perhaps honor
ably avoided, and for violating the Constitution to find a remedy for
its evils. If Randolph's supposition be true, they both failed of their
end. The reason is very plain — they ceased to embody the senti
ment and to reflect the will of the great body of the democracy, when
they began to undermine the Constitution to find a remedy for evils
they had inflicted on the country, and became the advocates of special
interests, monop'olies, and a moneyed aristocracy, Mr. Clay, with a
zeal and perseverance worthy of a better cause, labored all' his days
to force his miscalled American System as a permanent institution
on the country : but the people were against him, and not one of his
measures can now be found on the statute book.
Mr. Calhoun, when too late, saw and acknowledged the error of
his ways, and in a desperate effort to retrieve his own section of the

320 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
country from the evil consequences of his own measures, well nigh
involved the whole in civil war and ruin.
But, for the time being, they rode triumphantly on the full tide
of popularity, while Randolph, who foresaw and warned them of the
consequences of their rash measures, was driven into retirement.
All the powers of two administrations and the political presses in
their employment, the government at Washington, and the govern
ment at home in his native State, were employed to crush and destroy
him. John W. Eppes, the most distinguished and experienced
leader of the administration party, was induced to make his residence
in the county of Buckingham, that Randolph might have the most
able and formidable opposition the country could afford. These two
men, who had been friends and companions in their youth, and rival
leaders on the floor of Congress, met for the first time, in 1811, as
candidates for the suffrages of the same people. But the long ser
vices of their old servant were triumphant on this occasion. Again
they met, in the spring of 1813; times had changed; the country
was involved in war, and all its resources were pledged to a suc
cessful issue ; redoubled efforts must now be made to drive him from
the councils of the nation, who had opposed its measures, and fore
boded nothing but evil as their consequence. Never was a political
canvass conducted with more animation. In Buckingham, Mr. Ran
dolph was threatened with personal violence if he attempted to ad
dress the people. Some of the older and more prudent persons
advised him to retire, and not appear in public. " You know very
little of me," said he, " or you would not give such advice." He was
a man incapable of fear. Soon proclamation was made that Mr. Ran
dolph would address the people. A dense throng gathered around ;
he mounted the hustings; on the outskirts there hung a lowering and
sullen crowd that evidently meditated insult or violence on the first
opportunity ; he commenced : " I understand that I a'm to be insulted
to-day if I attempt to address the people — that a mob is prepared to
lay their rude hands upon me and drag me from these hustings, for
daring to exercise the rights of a freeman.'' Then fixing his keen
eye on the malcontents, and stretching out and slowly waving his
long fore-finger towards them, he continued : " My Bible teaches me
that the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom, but that the fear of
man is the consummation of folly," He then turned to the people.

CLAY— CALHOUN. 311
and went on with his discourse. No one dared to disturb him —
his spell was upon them — like the Ancient Mariner, " he held them
with his glittering eye,'' and made them listen against their will to
the story of their country's wrongs, and to feel that deep wounds had
been inflicted in the sides of her constitution by those that now
sought his political destruction, if not his Ufe.
Mr. Randolph made extraordinary exertions during this canvass ;
he felt that something more than his own success or his own repu
tation were staked on the issue, and never was he more powerful,
more commanding, more overwhelming in his eloquence.
In his favorite county of Prince Edward, where the people loved
him like a brother, he surpassed even himself A young man, who
was a student in a neighboring college, declares that he stood on his
feet for three hours unconscious of the flight of time — that he never
heard such burning words fall frora the lips of man, and was borne
along on the tide of his impassioned eloquence like a feather on the
bosom of a cataract When he had ceased — when his voice was no
longer heard, and his form had disappeared in the throng, no one
moved — the people stood still as though they had been shocked by a
stroke of lightning — their fixed eyes and pallid cheeks resembled
marble statues, or petrified Roman citizens in the forum of Pompeii
or Herculaneum. But it was all in vain ; the overwhelming pressure from without
was more than even Charlotte District could withstand ; and their
favorite son was compelled to retire for a short time, while the storm
of war was passing over the land, and to seek repose in the shades of
Eoanoke. How magnanimously he bore this defeat shall be made
kno'wn in the following chapters.

END OF VOL. L

LIFE OF JOM RMDOLPH
YOL. II.

* y,'-

Jim'm ff8AR'©®[L[FllO OKI ERJffil/AR®

THE LIFE

OF

3 OHN RANDOLPH

OF EOANOKE

BY
HUGH A. GARLAND,

VOL. II.

ELEVENTH EDITION.

NEW-YORK :
D. APPLETON & COMPANY,
346 k 348 BROADWAY.
M.DCCO.LVI.

Ehterbd, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850, by
D, APPLETON & COMPANY,
In tho Clerk's Office of tho District Court for the Southern District ol New- York

CONT'ENTS OF YOL. II.

CHAPTER I.
Roanoake — Retirement . . , , . .9
CHAPTER II.
Ancestral pride— St. George— Madness , . , 38
CHAPTER III.
Military Campaign ....,,. 44
CHAPTER IV.
New England .....,,, 49
CHAPTER V,
Religion— 1815  62
CHAPTER VI,
Political Reflections — Congress — Bank Charter ... 70
CHAPTER VII,
Religion — Home — Solitude ,,,,.. 85
CHAPTER VIII,
"Dyhig, Sir— Dying" ,,.,.. 89
CHAPTER IX,
Conversion .,,..... 94

6 CONTENTS. PAOI
CHAPTER X.
Idiosyncracies ,,.....• 104
CHAPTER XI.
Congress— Political Parties ..,,.. 112
CHAPTER XII,
Missouri Question ....... 118
CHAPTER XIII,
Compromise Bill smuggled through the House . , , . 127
CHAPTER XIV.
" I now go for blood " — Madness ...... 136
CHAPTER XV.
Missouri Question — Act the Second . . . , . 139
CHAPTER XVI.
" Be not solitary ; be not idle"— His Will— Slaves , , ,145
CHAPTER XVII,
Log-book and Letters . . . . , , 152
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Apportionment Bill .,..,,, 161
CHAPTER XIX,
Pinckney, Marshall, Tazewell — Departure for Europe , , 1C9
CHAPTER XX,
The Voyage . . . . , , . ^ , 172
CHAPTER XXI,
Incidents in England ••..,, 185
CHAPTER XXII.
Eighteenth Congress — Consolidation is the order of the day — " Speak a,
cheering word to the Greeks "..... 198

CONTENTS. 7
PAQB
CHAPTER XXIII.
Internal Improvements . . . . , ,201
CHAPTER XXIV,
Supreme Court — Dull dinner — Huddlesford's Oak , . , 209
CHAPTER XXV,
Tarifi"— Prophecy — Lewis McLean . . . . 214
CHAPTER XXVI.
Second Voyage to Europe .... , 219
CHAPTER XXVII.
Presidential Election ..... 227
CHAPTER XXVIII.
" Such constituents as man never had before, and never will have again " 233
CHAPTER XXIX.
The Adams Administration ...... 241
CHAPTER XXX.
The Panama Mission — Blifil and Black George . , , 249
CHAPTER XXXL
Duel with Henry Clay ,,,.,,. 254
CHAPTER XXXII.
Negro Slavery .,,,,,, 261
CHAPTER XXXIIL
Letters from Abroad ,.,,,.. 269
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Ejection from the Senate ... . . , . 275
CHAPTER XXXV.
Election to the House of Representatives .... 289

^ CONTENTS. - PAoa
CHAPTER XXXVI.
Leader of the Opposition — A wise and masterly inactivity . . 298
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Letters from Roanoke ....... 307
CHAPTER -XXXVIII.
Presidential Election — Retirement from Congress . . . 311
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Elected to the Convention ... , 321
CHAPTER XL.
The Virginia Convention — Every change is not reform , , 324
CHAPTER XLI,
Mission to Russia ....,,, 832
CHAPTER XLIL
Opium Eater , , , , , , , 343
CHAPTER XLin.
The Consummation ....,,, 350
CHAPTER XLIV.
"I have been sick all my life" — Death .... 864

CHAPTEE I,

ROANOKE — ^RETIREMENT,

We have now to view Mr. Eandolph in a new aspect. After an ac
tive, uninterrupted, and eventful career of fourteen years in the pub
lic service, in one of the most remarkable epochs of human history,
we have now to follow him into retirement. The triumph of his en
emies at the recent election had no power to shake the jSrmness of
his purpose, or to disturb the serenity of his mind, " It relieves me
from an odious thraldom," says he, " and, I assure you, ray dear sir,
I have thought and yet think, much more of the charming Mrs. G,
than of the election. The low and base arts to which my adversa
ries have resorted, have not raised them or sunk me in my own esti
mation." At horae he lived in the utmost seclusion aAd solitude. Up to
1810 he made Bizarre his principal place of residence. Here he
enjoyed the best of female society, for which no man had a higher
relish — found employment in the education of his young nephews,
the future heirs of his name and fortune, and on whom he doted
with the fondness of a father ; and solace for his leisure hours in a
large miscellaneous library, and the society and conversation of old
neighbors and well-tried friends. In 1810 he removed to Eoanoke,
his estate in Charlotte county, on the Eoanoke river, some thirty-
five or forty miles south of Bizarre " a savage solitude," says he,
^' into which I have been driven to seek slielter." Shortly before the
recent election, on Sunday, March 21, 181S, the house at Bizarre
took fire — the family were at church — ^very little saved. " I lost," says
he, " a valuable collection of books. In it was a whole body of infi
delity, the Encyclopedia of Diderot and D'Alembert. Voltaire's works,
VOL, TI. 1*

10 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
seventy volumes, Eousseau, thirteen quartos, Hume, &c,, &o." Bv
this calamity, if calamity it may be called (some of his friends con
gratulated him on the event), he was deprived of the chief source of
pleasure and amusement in his comfortless home. The only com
panion of his solitude was Theodore Bland Dudley, a young relation
he had taken to live with him in 1800. He educated this young
man with much care and at great expense. He manifested towards
him the solicitude and afi'ection of a fond father — ^his letters are
models of parental instruction, Dudley had recently graduated in
medicine at Philadelphia, and returned to console the solitary
hours of his best and most constant friend, " Consider yourself,"
said Eandolph to him, " as n^t less entitled to command here, than
if you were the child of my loins, as you ,are the son of ray affec
tions," Apart from the society of this young man, which he valued
above all price, his only real enjoyment was in the correspondence of
some two or thi'ee of his most intimate friends, to whom he un
bosomed himself with a fulness and a freedom that showed in a
remarkable degree the strength and constancy of his attachment,
and the unbounded confidence he had in the fidelity and integrity of
those men. To none did he speak or write more unreservedly than
to Dr, John Brockenbrough, the President of the Bank of Virginia,
No wonder, for his superior is not to be found — a man of rare tal
ents, varied learning, large experience in the business of life, refined
manners, delicate sensibility, a perfect gentleman and a faithful
friend, " Cherish the acquaintance of that man," he exhorts Dudley ;
" he is not as other men are." In writing to this gentleman he says :
" Your two letters, the last of which I received this evening by my
servant, have given me a degree of satisfaction that I find it diffi
cult to express. Let me beg a continuance of these marks of your
remembrande and friendship. At all times they would be highly ac
ceptable ; but in my present isolated state— a state of almost total
dereliction — they are beyond price. I should have thanked you for
your letter by the post, through the same channel, but I was induced
from its contents to suppose that you would have left Eichmond be
fore my answer could reach it ; and I wish that you had, because I
may be debarred the pleasure of seeing you and Mrs. B, at my lonely
and (as it will probably appear to you both) savage habitation. It is
therefore that this letter is written. You will hot wonder, when you

RETIREMENT. H
uen how I live, at my reluctance to leave you, and I was going to say
my other friends in Eichmond. It is indeed a life of seclusion that
I live here, unchequered by a single ray of enjoyment, I try to for
get myself in books ; but that ' pliability of man's spirit' which
yields him up to the illusions of the ideal world, is gone from me for
ever. The mind stiffened by age and habit refuses to change its ca
reer. It spurns the speculative notions which hard experience has
exploded ; it looks with contempt or pity, in sorrow or in anger,
upon the visionary plans of the youthful and sanguine. My dear
sir, ' there is another and a better world,' and to it alone can we
look without a certainty of disappointment, for consolation, for mer
cy, for justice," On another occasion he says : " I passed but an in
different night, occasioned, in a great measure, by the regret I feel at
leaving such friends as yourself and Mrs. Brockenbrough, and .at the
prospect of passing my time in that utter solitude of my comfortless
habitation, where I have prepared for myself, by my own folly, many
causes of uneasiness. If I had followed old Polonius's advice, and
been ' to mine own self true,' I might have escaped the lot which
seems to be in reserve for me."
To another friend, Francis S. Key, of "Washington City, he writes
more cheerfully. His letters to that gentleman about this time were
very frequent and. copious; they show more fully the workings of
his mind. We shall dra,w largely on the correspondence for the in
struction of the reader.
In one of his letters he gives a description of his habitation, the
log cabins, and the boundless priraeval forest by which they were
surrounded. In reply. Key says, " I could not help smiling at the
painting you have given rae of Eoanoke — laudat diversa sequentes.
To me it seemed just such a shelter as I should wish to creep under,
" A boundless contiguity of shade,
Where rumor of oppression and deceit
Might never reach me more."
In reference to the recent election he thus writes ¦
Roanoke, May 10, 1813.
Dear, Frank : — For so, without ceremony, permit me to call you.
Among the few causes that I find for regret at my dismissal frora
public life, there is none in comparison with the reflection that it has

12 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
separated me — 'perhaps for ever — ^from sorae who have a strong hold
on ray esteem and on my affections. ' It would indeed have been
gratifying to rae to see once more yourself, Mr, Meade, Eidgely, and
some few others ; and the thought that this may never be, is the only
one that infuses any thing of bitterness into what may be termed
my disappointment, if a man can be said to be disappointed when
things happen according to his expectations ; on every other account,
I have cause of self-congratulation at being disenthralled from a
servitude at once irksome and degrading. The grapes are not sour
— you know the manner in which you always combated my wish to
retire. Although I have not, like you, the spirit of a martyr, yet I
could not but allow great force to your representations. To say the
truth, a mere sense of duty alone might have been insufficient to
restrain me from indulging the very strong inclination which I have
felt for many years to return to private' life. It is now gratifiedT in
a way that takes from me every shadow of blame. No man can
reproach me with the desertion of my friends, or the abandonment
of my post in a time- of danger and of trial, " I have fought the
good fight, I have kept the faith." I owe the public nothing ; my
friends, indeed, are entitled to every thing at my hands ; but I have
received my discharge, not indeed honestam dimissionem, but passa
ble enough, as times go, when delicacy is not over fastidious, I am
again free, as it respects the public at least, and have but one more
victory to achieve, to be so in the true sense of the word. Like yourself
and Mr. Meade, I cannot be contented with endeavoring to do good for
goodness' sake, or rather for the sake of the Author of all goodness.
In spite of me, I cannot help' feeling something very like contempt
for my poor foolish fellow-mortals, and would often consign them to
Bonaparte in this world, and the devil, his master, in the next ; but
these are but temporary fits of misanthropy, which soon give way to
better and juster feelings.
When I came away I left at Crawford's a number of books, let
ters, papers, &c.. in (and out of) an open trunk ; also a gun, flask,
shot-belt, &c; Pray take thera in charge for me, for although one-
half of them are of no consequence, the rest are ; and you may justly
ask why I have been so careless respecting them ? — because I am
the most lazy and careless man on earth (La Bruyere'sabsent man is
nothing to me), and because I am in love. Pray give the letters
special protection. To the same, Roanoke, May 22, 1813,
My dear Friend ^-Your letter being addressed to Farmville,
did not reach me until yesterday, when my nephew brought it up.
Charlotte Court House is my post-office. By my last you will per-

RETIREMENT. 13
ceive that I have anticipated your kind office in regard to my books
and papers at Crawford's : pray give them protection " until the
Chesapeake shall be fit for service." It is, I think, nearly eight years
since I ventured to play upon those words in a report of the Secre
tary of the Navy. I have read your letter again and again, and
cannot express to you how much pleasure the perusal has given me.
I had taken so strong a disgust against public business, con
ducted as it has been for years past, that I doubt my fitness for the
situation from which I have been dismissed. The House of E was
as odious to me as ever school-room was to a truant boy. To be
under the dominion of such wretches as (with a few exceptions)
composed the majority, was intolerably irksome to my feelings ; and
although my present situation is far from enviable. I feel the value
of the exchai^e. To-day, for the first time, we ha^ve warm weather;
and as I enjoy the breeze in my cool cabin, where there is scarce a
fly to be seen, I think with loathing of that " compound of villanous
smells" which at all times inhale through the H, of E., but which in
a summer session are absolutely pestilential. Many of those, too,
whose society lessened the labors of our vocation are gone ; Bleecker,
Elliott, Quincy, Baker, and (since) Bayard ; so that I should find
myself in Congress among enemies or strangers. Breckenridge,
Stanford, and Eidgely, and Lloyd in the Senate, are left ; and I am
glad that they are not in a minority so forlorn as the last. They
have my best wishes — all the aid that I shall ever give to the public
cause. The great master of political philosophy has said that
" mankind has no title to demand that we should serve them in spite
of themselves." It is not upon this plea, however, that I shall stand
aloof from the bedside of my delirious country. My course is run.
I acquiesce in the decision that has been passed against me, and seek
neither for appeal nor new trial.
I shall not go northward until towards the autumn, when I must
visit Philadelphia. My late friend Clay's youngest son will return
with me ; and that journey over, I shall probably never cross James
Eiver again.
You are mistaken in supposing that " we Virginians like the war
better the nearer it approaches us ;" so far from it, there is a great
change in the temper of this State, and even in this district, par's,-
doxical as it may seem, against the war. More than half of those
who voted against me, were persuaded that I was the cause of the
war ; that the Government wished for peace (e. g. the Eussian Em
bassy), but that I thwarted them in every thing, and that without
unanimity amongst ourselves, peace could not be obtained. If you
are acquainted with Daschoff, tell him that the Eussian mediation
was (strange as it may appear) made the instrument of my ejection.
It gave a temporary popularity to the ministry — the people believing

14 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH,
that peace was their object. Its effect on the elections generally
has boon very great. Some were raade to believe that the British
fleet in the Chesapeake was to aid my election.
My kinsman, Dudley — now M. D. — ^is with me, and his society:
serves to cheer the solitude in which I am plunged. He desires to
be remembered to you. Present my best love to Mrs. Key and the
little folks. When you see the family at Blenheim, present me to
them — also to Mr. Stone — and believe me, always, dear sir, and most
affectionately. Yours
John Eamdolph of Eoanoke

To the Same. ^
May 23d, If 13.
Your letter of the 14th was received to-day — many thanks for it.
By the sarae mail, Mr. Quincy sent rae a copy of his speech of the
30th of last month. It is a composition of much ability and depth
of thought ; but it iijdicates a spirit and a temper to the North which
is more a subject of regret than of surprise. I'he grievances of Lord
North's administration were but as a feather in the scale, when com
pared with those inflicted by Jefferson and Madison.
I fervently hope that we may meet again. I do not wish you so
ill as to see you banished to this Sinope ; and yet to see you here
would give me exceeding great pleasure. Every blessing attend
you. Francis Scott Key, Esq.

John Randolph to Dr. John Brockenbrough. Roanoke, June 2d, 1813.
I did not receive your letter of the 26th until last evening, and
then I was obliged for it to my good old neighbor. Colonel Morton,
who never omits an occasion of doing a favor, however small. The
gentleman by whora you wrote is very shy of rae ; nor can I blame
him for it. No man likes to feel the embarrassment which a con
sciousness of having done wrong to another is sure to inspire, and'
which the sight of the object towards whom the wrong has been done
never fails to excite, in the most lively and painful degree.
My neighbor, Colonel C  k, who goes down to Petersburg and
Eichmond to-morrow, enables me (after a fashion) to answer your
question, " How and where I shall pass the suramer months ?" To
which I can only reply — as it pleases God ! If I go to any watering-
place, it will be to our hot springs, for the purpose of stewing the
rheumatism out of my carcase, if it be practicable.

RETIREMENT. 15
, It would have been peculiarly gratifying to me to have been with
you when Leigh, Garnett, W. Meade, and, I must add, M  , were
in Eichmond. If we exclude every " party-man, and man of am
bition," from our church, I fear we shall have j^s thin a congregation
as Dean Swift had, when he addressed his clerk, "Dearly beloved
Eoger !" What I like M  for, is neither his courtesy, nor his in
telligence, but a certain warm-heartedness, which is now-a-days the
rarest of human qualities. His manner I think peculiarly un
fortunate. There is an ostentation of ornament (which school-boys lay
aside when they reach the senior class), and a labored infelicity of
expression, that is hateful to one's feelings. We are in terror for the
speaker. But this fault he has already in some degree corrected :
and by the time he is as old as you or I, it will have worn off. I was
greatly revolted by it on our first acquaintance, aud even now, am
occasionally offended ; but the zeal with which he devotes himself to
the service of his friends and of his country, makes amends for all.
It is sometimes a bustling activity, of little import to its object, but
which is to be valued in reference to its motive.
I am not surprised at what you tell me of our friend. We live
in fearful times, and it is a perilous adventure that he is about to un
dertake. In a few years more, those of us who are alive will have to
move off to Kaintuck, or the Massissippi, where corn can be had for
sixpence a bushel, and pork for a- penny a pound. I do not wonder
at the rage for emigration. What do the bulk of the people get
here, that they cannot have for one-fifth of the labor in the western
country ? Surely that must be the Yahoo's paradise, where he can
get dead drunk for the hundredth part of a dollar.
What you tell me^of Milnor is quite unexpected. He was one of
the last men whom I should have expected to take orders ; not so
much on account of his quitting a lucrative profession, as from his
fondness for gay life. I am not sure that it is the safest path. The
responsibility is awful — it is tremendous,
Thanks for your intelligence respecting my poor sister. If hu
man skill could save her. Dr. Eobinson would do it ; but there is
nothing left, except to smooth her path to that dwelling whither we
must all soon follow her. I can give Mrs. B. no comfort on the sub
ject of her son. For ray part, it requires an effort to take an inte
rest in any thing ; and it seems to me strange that there should be
found inducements strong enough to carry on the business of the
world. I believe you have given the true solution of this problem, by
way of corollary frora another, when you pronounce that free-will and
necessity are much the same. I used formerly to puzzle myself, as
abler men have puzzled others, by speculations on this opprobrium
of philosophy. If you have not untied the Gordian knot, you have
cut it, which is the approved rnethodus medendi of this disease.

16 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Write to me when you can do no better. Worse you cannot do
for yourself, nor better for me. You can't imagine what an epoch
in my present life a letter from you constitutes. If I did not know
that you could find nothing here beyond the satisfaction of mere
animal necessity, I should entreat Mrs, B, and yourself to visit mj
solitary habitation. May every blessing attend you both.
Yours, unchangeably, .Tohn Eandolph. of Eoanoke.

John Randolph to Francis S. Key.
Roanoke, July 17th, 1813
Dear Frank, — I rode twenty miles this morning, in the hop'e of
receiving letters from some of those few persons who honor me with
their regard. Nor have I been disappointed. Your letter, and one
from Dr. B., had arrived a few moments before me. I received the
pamphlets through friend Stanford, who has too much on iJs hands
to think of me every post; and I am not at all obliged to the gentle
man who detained them on their passage, and who annotated one of
them, I suppose for my edification. It is certainly not all emenda
tion, for this critical labor.
I heartily wish that I were qualified in any shape to advise you
on the subject of a new calling in life. Were I Premier, I should
certainly translate you to the see of Canterbury ; and if I were not
too conscious of my utter incompetency, I should like to take a pro
fessorship in some college where you were principal ; for, like you,
¦' my occupation (tobacco-making) is also gone." Some sort of em
ployment is absolutely necessary to keep me from expiring with
ennui, I " see no reviews," nor any thing else of that description.
My time passes in uniform monotony. For weeks together I never
see a new face ; and, to tell you the truth, I am so rauch of Captain
Gulliver's way of thinking respecting my fellow- Yahoos, (a few ex
cepted, whose souls must have transmigrated from the generous
Houyhnhnms,) that I have as much of their company as is agreeable
to me, and I suspect that they are pretty much of my opinion ; that I
am not only ennuyS myself, but the cause of ennui in others. In
fact, this business of living is, like Mr. Barlow's reclamations on the
French Government, dull work ; and I possess so little of pagan
philosophy, or of Christian patience, as frequently to be driven to
the brink of despair. " The uses of this world have long seemed to
me stale, flat, and unprofitable ;" but I have worried along, like a
worn-out horse in a mail coach, by dint of habit and whipcord, and
shall at last die in the traces, running the same dull stage, day
after day.

RETIREMENT, 17
When you see Eidgely, commend me to him and his amiable
wife, I am really glad to hear that he is quietly at home, instead of
scampering along the bay shore, or inditing dispatches. Our npper
country has slid down upon the lower. Nearly half our people are
below the falls. Both my brothers are gone ; but I must refer you
to a late letter to Stanford, for the state of affairs hereabouts.
Henry Tucker is in Eichmond ; Beverly at Norfolk ; whence, if he
return, he will win his life with the odds against him.
I am much pleased with Mr. Gaston's speech on Webster's mo
tion. Chief Justice Marshall had taught me to think highly of his
abilities ; and my expectations, although raised, have not been dis
appointed. I have seen the scotched tail of Mr. Secretary M  's report to
his raaster, which drags its wounded length along most awkwardly.
I should like to hear what Mons. Serrurier would say. Mr. Eus
sell and the Duke of Bassano are, it seems, confronted across the
Atlantic. I should be glad to have his Imperial and Eoyal Majes
ty's Envoy called into court, and examined touching Mr. M  's
declaration. * * *
Nicholson has luckily shifted his quarters, from an exposed to a
very safe position, where he may reflect undisturbed on the train of
measures which have issued in the present unparalleled state of
things. With me, he condemned them at the beginning, but gradu
ally coincided with the views of the administration. He may live to
see the time when he will wish that he had steadily opposed himself to
thera. I would not give the reflection that, under every circumstance
of discouragement, I never faltered or wavered in my opposition to
them, to be president for life. Nearly eight years ago the real views
a7id true character of the Executive were disclosed to me, and I made
up my mind as to the course which my duty called upon me to fol
low. I predicted the result which has ensued. The length of time
and vast efforts which were required to hunt me down, convince me
that the cordial co-operation of a few friends would have saved the
Eepublic. Sallust, I think, says, speaking of the exploits of Eome,
' Egregiam virtutem paucorum civium cuncta patiavisse ;' and if those
who ought to have put their shoulders to the work, had not made a
vain parade of disinterestedness in returning to private life, all might
have been saved. But the delicacy and timidity of sorae, and- the
versatility of others, insured the triumph of the court _ and the ruin
of the country. I know not how I got upon this subject. It is a
most unprofltable one.
Farewell, my good friend, and believe me, in truth
Yours,
John Eandolph op Eoanoke.

18 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Have you met with a queer book,* by a Mr. James Pishbaek,
of Lexington, Kentucky ? He very politely sent me a copy, and ac
companied it with a letter, in which, like the rest of his brethren, ha
flatters himself that his book will be generally read, and (of course)
productive of great benefit. It is a most curious work for a lawyer
(a Kentucky lawyer I raean), for suoh it seems he is, and brother-in-
law to Mr. Pope, late of the Senate. I have dipped into it here and
there, and whatever may be the skill displayed in its execution, tho
object I think is a good one. The man has thought much — but I
doubt if clearly. Like many other writers in the same walk of com
position, he appears not always to affix a precise meaning to his
terms. Sunday. Post in — not a line or newspaper frora Washington.

Francis S. Key to J. Randolph.
Georgetown, August 30, 1813.
My Dear Friend — * * * As you appeared to be tired of ti e
country, I thought' it likely you would have begun before now your
journey to Cambridge, and hoped to have seen you as you passed. I
have less regard for those Eastern people now than I used to have.
and should care less aljout seeing them or their country. I cannot
help suspecting them of selfish views, and that, if they can collect
strength enough, they will separate. Their policy has certainly been
a crooked one. The Quarterly Eeviewers say well that the expedi
ent of driving the administration into the war for the purpose of
making them unpopular was " dangerous and doubtful." They might
have added that it was dishonest. Certainly, the sort of opposition
they are making now is one from which nothing good can be expected.
There was old  -, the other day, while I was at Fredericks-
town, travelling out of his road, and giving up his passage in the
stage, and then travelling post to overtake it, and all to eat a dinner
given by some of Mr.  's tools, apparently to him, but in fact to
give eclat to his " distinguished young friend," and help on his
intrigues. I believe this old man is honest, but can he be so vain as
to run panting after praise in this way 1 or is he told and does he
believe that people are to be driven from their opinions and made to
fall into the ranks behind him and Mr.  and his Boston party.
whenever he chooses to show himself?
I suppose Stanford told you that I was half inclined to turn poli
tician, I did feel something like it — but the fit is over. I shall, I
hope, stay quietly here, and mind my business as long as it lasts I
* The title of the work is " The Philosophy of the Human Mind in respect to
Religion."

RETIREMENT

19

have troubled myself enough with thinking what I should do —so I
shall try to prepare myself for whatever may appear plainly to be my
duty. That I must raake some change, if the war lasts much longer
(as I think it will), is very probable ; but whether it shall be for a
station civil, military, or clerical, I will not yet determine. To be
serious, I believe that a man who does not follow his own inclina
tions, and choose his own ways, but is willing to do whatever may be
appointed for him, will have his path of life chosen for him and
shown to him, and I trust this is not enthusiasm.
Our friend Eidgely has really turned politician. He is a candi
date for the Maryland Legislature, and it is thought will be elected.
I hardly know whether to wish he may succeed or not. He has some
good, and, indeed, most excellent qualities for sueh a place, but he
wants others, and will have few, if any, worthy of his confidence, tc
join him in a stand against the folly and wickedness of both parties.
His situation will be peculiarly difficult and disagreeable, requiring
great prudence and self-comraand. I know some of the men he will
have to deal with, who are as cunning as he is unsuspicious.
Lloyd was here the other day. I was sorry I was out of town, as
I should have liked to have seen him. He told Mrs. Key he believed
you had given him up, and complained that you never wrote to hira.
She told him you almost always inquired of him in your letters to
me, and mentioned what you said in your last about your observation
in Congress, at which he laughed. I make great allowances for
Lloyd's wrongheadedness. The federalists flattered and supported
him — he was moderating in his opinions, but did not abandon his
party — ^he still called himself a democrat— this affronted them, and
at the next session they all voted against him. This conduct was
calculated to convince hira that their forraer support was an artifice,
that they wished to dupe him, and expected their favors had bought
him off from his party. At the same tirae the federal newspapers
opened their abuse upon him, which was gross, false, and abominable.
Now, when all this is considered, I think he cannot yet be thought
incorrigible. He has had no chance of judging coolly and dispassion
ately. I am convinced, though (N.'s) influence with him is great, it
would never (but for these things) have been sufficient to keep him
among the supporters of such a party. A man could not long be so
blind to his own interest, and that of the country, but by his passions
and prejudices being continually excited.
Randolph to Key. Roanoke, Sept. 12, 1813
Dear Frank — I had almost begun to fear that you had forgotten
me, but this morning's mail brought me yours of the 30th of August

20 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Our post-office establishment is under shameful mismanagement.
Today I received a letter from Boston, post-marked Aug, 22d, and
last week I got one frora the same place marked Aug. 23d. I still
keep up an intercourse, you see, with the head-quarters of good prin
ciples — for although I do not dabble in politics, " I have more regard
for these Eastern people now than I used to have " Of the policy
of driving the administration into war. I have the same opinion that
you quote from the Quarterly Eeview. It was a crooked scheme,
and has met its merited fate. But, my dear friend, great allowance
is to be made for men under the regime of Clay, Grundy & Co. ; and
besides a few individuals only are answerable for the consequences of
this tortuous policy. The great bulk of the Eastern States are guilt
less of the sin. When I consider how much more these people have
borne from the pettifoggers of the West, than they would submit to
from Lord North ; and reflect that there is no common tie of inter
est or of feeKng between them and their upstart oppressors, I cannot
pronounce them (in this instance at least) to be selflsh. Indeed, I
should not like them less if they were so — I am becoming selfish my
self (when too late), and bitterly regret that I did not practise upon
this principle many years ago. On this scheme I have abandoned
politics for ever — and for the same reason should be sorry to see you,
or our noble, spirited friend, Sterritt Eidgely, engaged in their pur
suit. I have more faith in free will than you seem to express — for I
believe we have it all in our power to choose wisely if -.we would. As
to Eidgely, he is utterly unfit for public life. Do you ask why ?
You have partly answered the question. He is too honest, too un
suspicious, too deficient in cunning. I would as soon recommend
such a man to a hazard-table and a gang 'of sharpers, as to a seat in
any deliberative assembly in America.
Our quondam friend Lloyd — ^for " quondam friends arcTio rarity
with rae" — I made this answer at the ordinary at our court, to a gen
tleman who had returned from Eappahannock, and told rae that he
had seen some of my quondam friends. It was casually uttered, but
I soon saw how deep it was felt by a person at table, whom I had not
before observed. To return to Lloyd. He cannot, with any show
of justice, complain of "my giving him up." The saddle is on the
other horse. He is a spoiled child of fortune, and testy old bachelors
make a poor hand of humoring spoiled children. Lloyd required to
be flattered, and I would not perform the service. I would hold no
man's regard by a base tenure. I see that Eidgely stands commit
ted to abide the issue of an election. I am sorry for it for his own
sake, and yet more on account of Mrs. E. Electioneering is upon
no very pleasant footing any where ; but with you, when the " base
proletarian rout" are admitted to vote, it raust be peculiarly irksome
and repugnant to the feelings of a gentleman.

RETIREMENT. 21
I ara highly pleased with the XlVth number of the Quarterly
Eeview, particularly the article on the subject of the poor laws ; and
that on the literature of France during the past century. Alas ! for
Walter Scott ! These learned reviewers cannot prevail upon me to
" revive the opinion" which the first reading (or attempt at reading)
Eokeby produced. It is beneath criticism.
My will, but not my poverty, consents to my eastern tour. Our
blessed rulers have nearly ruined me, and should the war be protracted
much longer, I raust go into some business, if there be any for which
I am fit. My body is wholly worn out, and the intellectual part
much shattered. Were I to follow the dictates of prudence, I should
convert my estate into money, and move northwardly. Whether I
shall have firmness and vigor enough to execute such a scheme, re
mains to bfe seen. My bodily infirmities are great and rapidly in
creasing, so that it will be impossible for me to sustain existence here
when deprived of field exercises. I write now under the pressure of
severe headache. You are not my physician, yet I cannot omit telling
you that I am afflicted with a strange anomalous disease. It is of
the heart ; the most violent palpitations, succeeded oy a total suspen
sion of its functions for some seconds : and then, after several sud
den spasmodic actions, the pulse becomes very slow, languid, and
weak. When the fit is on, it may be seen through my dress across
the room. It was this demon that put it out of my head to suggest
to you the practical wisdom of damping the opposition to the govern
ment at this time. Of the print in question, I think nearly as you
do ; but it has done a deal of .good with some mischief, and perhaps in
the attempt to do more. How was the last administration over
thrown, do you suppose? By rejecting proffered service from any
quarter 1 Had the Aurora no agency, think you, in the work ? " Ho
mo sum :'' man must work with mortal means. Not choosing to use
such, I am idle. When administration call to their aid the refuse
of New England in the persons of the  ,
and opposition reject the aid, or stand aloof from such high-minded,
honorable men as S  , K  , G  , Q  , L  ,
0  , L  , P  , what can be expected but defeat ? It
is as if in the Southern States the assistance of the whites should be
rejected against an adversary that embodied the negroes on his side.
Be assured that nothing can be done with effect, without union among
the parts, however heterogeneous, that compose the opposition. They
have time enough to differ among themselves after they shall have put
down the common foe ; and if they must quarrel, I would advise them
to adjourn the debate to that distant day.
I wish I could say something of my future movements. I look
forward without hope. Clouds and darkness hang upon my pros
pects ; and should my feeble frame hang together a few year,' longer

22 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
the time may arrive when my best friends, as well as myself, may
pray that a close be put to the same.
My best respects and regards to Mrs. Key, and love to the young
folks. I fear I shall live to see you a grandfather. Farewell.
J, E, OP Eoanoke,

To the same. Roanoke, Sept. 26, 1813.
Dear Frank, — You owe the trouble of this letter to another
which I threw upon your shoulders some time ago. As the shooting
season approaches, I am reminded of my favorite gun, &o,, in George
town. 'Tis true I have a couple of very capital pieces here, but
neither of them as light and handy as that I left at Cranford's, and I
fear it may be injured or destroyed by rust — verbum sat.
We have to-day the account of Perry's success on Lake Erie,
which will add another year to the life of the war. Have you seen
Woodfall's Junius ? The private correspondence has rsised the cha
racter of this mysterious being very much in my estimation. If you
will pardon the apparent vanity of the declaration, it has reminded
me freqiiently of myself I hope he will never be di'covered. I
feel persuaded that he was an honest man and a sincere patriot, which
heretofore I was inclined to doubt. We have been flooded. This
river has not been so high since August, 1795. A vast deal of corn
is destroyed. I fear I have lost 500 barrels, and eighty odd stacks
of oats. In tenderness to you, I have said nothing of Eokeby. Alas !
" good Earl Walter dead and gone !" God bless you !
J. E.
Best love to Mrs. Key, and Eidgley, when you see him.
John Randolph to Dr. John Brockenbrough Roanoke, Oct. 4, 1813
My dear Friend : — By this time I trust you have returned to
Eichmond for the winter. It has been a grievous separation from
you that I have endured for the last two months. In this period I
have experienced some heavy afflictions, of which no doubt common
fame has apprised you, and others that she knows not of Let us
not talk, and, if possible, not think of them. I hope that Mrs. B,
has derived every possible advantage from her late excursion. As
sure her frora me, that she has no friend who is raore sincerely inter
ested in her temporal and eternal happiness than myself Absorbed
as I may be supposed to bo with my own misfortudes, I live only foi

RETIREMENT. 23
my friends. They are few, but they are precious beyond all human
estimation. Write to me I beg of you ; the very sight of your hand
writing gives a new impulse to my jaded spirits. I would write, but
I cannot. I sometimes selfishly wish that you could conceive of my
feelings. It is not the least painful of my thoughts that I am per
petually destined to be away from the sympathy of my friends, whilst
I am deprived of every thing but affection towards them.
Yours truly, John Eanldlph of Eoanoke.
Mr. Eandolph filed away his etters with great care. He in
dorsed on them the name of the author, the date, the time it was
received and answered ; and if the letter contained any subject of
special interest, it was in like manner noted. On the following let
ter was indorsed " Party Spirit ;" the words were underscored, and
in addition was the figure of a hand, with the index finger pointing
to thera. F. S. Key to John Randolph. Georgetown, Oct. 5, 1818.
My dear Sir : — I was thinking of your gun a few days before I
received your -letter, and deterrained to rub off some of your rust,
and try if I could kill Mrs. Key a bird or two. She has just given
me another son, and of course deserves this piece of courtesy. As
to amusement in shooting, I have lost it all, though once as ardent a
sportsraan as yourself I am pleased to find that you are anticipat
ing such pleasures, as I therefore hope that the complaint you men
tioned in your former letter has left you. Exercise will no doubt
tend to relieve you.
I have never read the private correspondence of Junius. I have
a late edition, and will see if it contains it. I was always against
Junius, having sided with Dr. Johnson and his opponents. There
was, I know, great prejudice, and perhaps nothing else in this, but
since the prejudice has worn away I have had no time to read so
long a book. The article you speak of in the Quarterly Eeview (on
the Poor Laws) I admire, and assent to more cordially than any
thing on the subject I ever saw. It excited my interest greatly.
What sound and able men are engaged in that work ! I know none
who are offering so much good to their country and the world, and I
will not suffer myself to believe that it is thrown away. As to their
rivals, the Edinburgh Eeviews, I believe we should differ in opinion.
I consider them as masked infidels and Jacobins ; and if I had time.

24 I-IFJi OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
and it was worth while, I think I could prove it upon them. I would
refer to the review of the life of Dr. Beatty, and of Coelebs, and a few
others, to prove that either knowingly, or ignorantly (I have hardly
charity enough to believe the Isttter), they have misrepresented and
attacked Christianity. Were you not pleased with the spirited
defence against them which the Quarterly reviewers have made for
Montgomery ? As to Walter Scott, I have alway-s thought he was
sinking in every successive work. He is sometimes himself again in
" Marmion" and the " Lady of the Lake ;" but when I read these.
and thought of the " Lay of the Last Minstrel," it always seemed to
me that " hushed was the harp — the minstrel gone." I believe I
am singular in this preference, and it may be that I was so " spell
bound" by " the witch notes" of the first, that I could never listen to
the others. But does it not appear that to produce one transcend-
ently fine epic poem is as much as has ever fallen to the life of one
man ? There seems to be a law of the Muses for it. I was always
provoked with him for writing more than his first. The top of Par
nassus is a point, and there he was, and should have been content.
There was no room to saunter about on it ; if he moved, he must
descend ; and so it has turned out, and he is now (as the Edinburgh
reviewers say of poor Montgomery) " wandering about on the lower
slopes" of it.
I have not seen nor heard of Eidgley since his political campaign
commenced. It closed yesterday, and we have not yet heard how he
has fared. There is a report in town of the federalists having suc
ceeded in Frederick, which I expected would be the case from
P  's having had the folly and meanness to go all over the county
making speeches. Eidgley's election is more doubtful, as the ad
ministration are very strong in his county. If he is elected, you
will write to him, but don't discourage him too much. If he can
command his temper, and be tolerably prudent, I think he raay do
some good. If cunning is necessary, he is indeed in a desperate
case. I cannot think that the duty of an honest man when he con
sents to become a politician, is so difficult and hopeless as you seem
to consider it. He will often, it is true, be wrong, but this, may
enable him to correct his errors. He will often have to submit to
disappointments, but they may make him better and wiser. If he
pursues his course conscientiously, guarding against his own am
bition, and exercising patience and forbearance towards others, he
will generally succeed better than the raost artful intriguer ; and the
worst that can happen is, that in bad and distempered tiraes he may
be released from his obligations. [Meant to be a picture of Ean
dolph himself — Editor.'] Nor even then is there an end of his use
fulness ; for, besides many things that he may yet do for the common
good, the public disorder may pass away, and when the people are

SiKTIRE.MBNT. 25
sobered by suffering, they will remember who would have saved them
from it ; and his consequence and ability to serve them will be incal
culably increased, and their confidence in him unbounded. " Egre-
gia virtus paucorum." I have forgotten your quotation from Sallust
— you can supply it. It struck me forcibly, and I believe it admira
bly suited to these times ; and that if this " egregia virtus" can be
found among even a few of our politicians, who can be pressed and
kept in the public service, we may be safe.
The opposition making to the administration may succeed (though
I do not think it can) ; but if it did I should hope but little from it :
and that, because it is the opposition of a party. If it is the honest
est party,- it would be beaten again immediately ; for of t-wo contend
ing factions, the worst must be, generally, successful. This is just
as plain to me as that of two gamesters ; he who cheats most will
commonly win the game. We should therefore, I think, burn the
cards, or give up the game of party, and then, I believe, the knaves might
be made the losers. " Keep up party and party spirit" should be
(if they have any sense) the first and great commandment of the
administration to its followers. Let P  & Co. keep up a constant
volley of the most irritating provocations against every one who does
not belong to their party, and the weakest friend of the administra
tion will fall into the ranks against them, and follow wherever they
are ordered.
Suppose some ruinous and abominable measure, such as a. French
alliance, is proposed by the government ; will the scolding of the
federalists in Congress gain any of the well-meaning but mistaken
and prejudiced friends of the administration, and induce them to
oppose it ? Will not such persons, on the contrary, be driven to con
sider it a party question, and the clamor and opposition of these
persons, as a matter of course ? Will men listen to reasonings against
it, judge of it irapartially, and see its enormity, who are blinded by
party spirit ? But let such men as Cheves or Lowndes, men who are
not party men or who will leave their party when they think them
wrong ; let them try if conciliation, and a plain and temperate
exposure of &e measure will not be effectual ; and it is certainly rea
sonable to expect it would. I am, besides, inclined to think that the
worst men of a party will be uppermost in it ; and if so, there would.
perhaps, be no great gain from a change. If every man would set
himself to work to abate, as far as possible, this party spirit ; if
the people could be once brought to require from every candidate
a solemn declaration, that he would act constitutionally according to
his own judgment, upon every measure proposed, without considering
what party advocated or opposed it (and I cannot think that such a
ground would be unpopular), its effects would be, at least, greatly
diminished. This course might not, it is possible, succeed in ordi-

VOL. II.

26 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
nary times, and when this spirit is so universally diffused and
inflamed ; but we are approaching to extraordinary times, when se
rious national affliction will appease this spirit, and give the people
leisure and temper to reflect. Something too might then be done
towards promoting a reformation of habits and morals, without which
nothing of any lasting advantage can be expected. Could such an
administration as this preserve its power, if party spirit was even con
siderably lessened ? And is this too ranch to expect ? If so, there
is nothing, I think, to be done but to submit te the punishment that
Providence will bring upon us, and to hope that that will cure us.
I am, you will think, full of this subject.
Farewell. Yours,
F. S. Key
Randolph to Key. Roanoke, October 17, 1813.
Dear Frank — Never was letter raore welcome than that which I
just now received from you, and which I raust thank you for on the
day set apart for letter-writing in the city of 0., or defer it for ano
ther week. Alas ! so far from taking the field .against the poor par
tridges, I can hardly hobble about my own cabin. It pleased God
on Tuesday last to deprive me of the use of my limbs. This visita
tion was attended with acute pain, reminding me most forcibly of my
situation at your uncle's nearly six years ago.
By the papers, I see that our friend Eidgely has not succeeded in
his election. I ara gratified, however, to find that he was at the head
of the ticket on which his name stood. Lloyd, I perceive, has car
ried his point in Talbot. I have a great mind to publish your letter.
If any thing could do good, that, I am certain, would open the. eyes of
many, as many, at least, as would read it. But I have no faith, and
cannot be saved. I look to the sands of Brandenburgh and the
mountains of Bohemia with a faint hope of deliverance. You can
expect nothing but groans and sighs from a poor devil, racked by
rheumatism and tortured by a thousand plagues. I can barely sum
mon heart enough to, congratulate you and Mrs. K. (to whom give my
best love) on the late happy event in your family. I shall be proud
if my gun can furnish a piece of game for her. When I get better
you shall hear from me at full. When you see Eidgely present me
most affectionately to hira and his truly excellent wife. I cannot be
glad of his defeat, since it seems that the' complexion of your legis
lature depended upon success there or in sorae county on the eastern
shore ; but I am convinced that it is best for him and his ; and I am
inclined to think no worse for the country. How can a foolish spend
thrift young man be prevented frora ruining hiraself? How can you
appoint a guardian to a people bent on self-destruction ? The stat*

RETIREMENT, 27
of society is radically vicious. It is there, if at all, that the remedy
should be applied.
I will give you an instance. One of my overseers had acted in
the most scandalous and indeed dishonest manner. Of course he had
to decamp. Two gentlemen, in the most friendly manner, cautionedme
against a contest at law with an overseer. No matter what the merits
of the case, the employer must be cast. If I had been in Turkey,
and this fellow a Janizary, they could not have thought the case
raore desperate, and I know that tliey were right.
We a,gree entirely in opinion respecting the Eeview, and nearly
so on the subject of the rival journal, I wish I could get them
more regularly, for in , my condition any thing of that kind Is
a treasure. Under any other circumstances I should be ashamed of
returning you this meagre epistle, in reply to your rich and copious
letter. Yours entirely,
John Eandolph of Eoanoke.

Key to Randolyh. Georgetown, November 27, 1813,
My dear Friend — * * * I have heard indirectly that your are
still sick. I hope this attack will not be such an one as you had at
my uncle's. Pain and sickness are sad companions any where, but
particularly in the country. It is hard to feel them and think them
the trifles that (compared to other things) they certainly are. He
alone who sends them can give us strength and faith to bear them
as we ought. I wish you every relief, but above all, this. Let me
hear from you as often as you can. Your letters may be short, but
I shall not find them "meagre." * * * Maryland is in great agita
tion about the Alleghany election. The returned members will
take their seats, and when they have elected the Governor and Coun
cil, then their right to their seats will bo tried. This piece of jockeyship
will degrade and ruin the party for ever. Perhaps it is well it should
be so ; the more each party -disgraces itself the better.
I agree exactly with you, that " the state of society is radically
vicious," and that it is there that the remedy is to be applied. Put
down party spirit ; stop the corruption of party elections ; legislate
not for the next election, but for the next century ; build Lancaster
schools in every hundred, and repair our ruined churches ; let every
country gentleman of worth become a justice of the peace, and show
his neighbors wh^t a blessing a benevolent, religious man is ; and let
the retired patriot, who can do nothing else, give his country his
prayers, and often in his meditations " think on her who thinks not

28 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
for herself"—" egregia virtus paucorum," &c. I often think of yonr
apt quotation. I believe, nay, I am sure, that such a course, if hon
estly attempted, would succeed and save us. God bless you.
Your friend,
¥. S. Key.
Randolph to Key. Richmond, Dec. 15, 1813.
Dear Frank : — I thank you very sincerely for your kind letter,
which has been forwarded to me at this place (where I have been up
wards of a month), and also for your remembrance of my request
about the pamphlets, which I received yesterday. I wish, if any op
portunity offers (I mean a good one), you would send me " War in
Disguise ;" it is bound up with the " Dangers of the Country," and
some other pamphlets ; and I pray you take care of my favorite fowl
ing-piece. My fears are not from the use of it, but from rust.
You see what great objects fill my mind when the day " is big
with the fate" of the whole race of man. For my part, my fears of
the power and arts of France, almost overpower the exercise of my
judgraent. I can see no canee why the world should not be punished
now as in the days of Csesar or Nebuchadnezzar ; nor why Bonaparte
may not be as good an instrument as either of those tyrants. En
deavoring to turn away my mind from such contemplations, I try to
submit myself to him whose chastisement is love.
" Put down party spirit !" Put a little /resA salt on the sparrow's
tail, and you will infallibly catch him. You will put down party
spirit when you put down whisky-drinking, and that will be when the
Greek calends come, I agree with you perfectly on the subject of
the poor, unoffending Canadians, To us they are innocent ; and in
the eye of Heaven we must appear like so many descendants of Cain,
seeking to imbrue our hands in our brothers' blood ! Suppose Eng
land to lose Canada, she gets in exchange for it our whole navigation.
We were her great and only commercial rival. We possessed a ton
nage, six years ago, greater than that of Great Britain at the acces
sion of the present king. Greater than any other nation, except our
parent state, ever owned. Our ships are short-lived, our seamen
must have employment ; all the foreign seamen, and many of the na
tive, will seek the Eussian, or some other neutral service. We may
establish manufactures ; but what of that? Those of England want
no vent here. Moreover, she well knows that although peace may be
restored, it will be a peace of double duties and restrictions, a " war
in disguise " In short, I can see no motive in a wise English admin
istration for putting an end to the war. My only trust is in their
folly. Lord Castlereagh is not much better than his countryman^
with the last syllable of his name, whom you met in the street.

RETIREMENT. 29
Peace or war, the ruin of this country is inevitable ; we cannot
have manufactures on a great scale. Already our specie is drawn off
to pay for domestic manufactures from the middle and eastern States.
All the loans, &c., are spent in New-York ; and whilst she and Penn
sylvania and New England are thriving in the most wonderful man
ner, with us the straw (near market) of a crop of wheat is worth
more than the grain ; and we are feeding our horses and oxen with
superfine flour, although fhe crop of Indian corn is superabundant —
the flour being the cheaper of the two.
I heard of our friend, Sterrett Eidgley, by a gentleman who saw
hira at the races. I cannot regret that he is not compelled to mingle
in the throng at Annapolis. Sallust, in that quotation of mine to
which you so frequently refer, speaking of the exploits of the Eoman
people (surpassed by the Greeks in eloquence and learning, and by
the Gauls in military prowess), declares it to be his opinion, after long
and attentive study and observations, that " Egregiara virtutem
paucorum civium cuncta patiavisse." He goes on to add (I wish I
had the book before me), " Sed post quam luxu atque desidio civitas
corrupta est, rursus Eespublica magnitudine sua, vitia sustentabat."
In like raanner, we have seen modern France, by the very force of
magnitude and number, support the unutterable vices of her rulers,
and bear down all before her. As we cannot be saved by the
extraordinary virtue of a few, so neither can we rely upon the height
of our power to sustain the incapacity and corruption of our rulers,
and :f the great mass of our people.
As to Lancaster schools, I am for the thing, the substance,
but not the name. It is stolen by a fellow whom I detest. I hope
you have abolished his cruel and stupid punishments in your George
town Institution. An article in the Quarterly Eeview (I think No.
XI.), satisfied me that Lancaster was an impostor, and a hard-hearted
wretch. There is a late review on " National Education " (in No.
XV. I believe), which pleased me very much My best wishes attend
all who are dear to you. I hear that your poor protegee. Miss A. B. ,
has sealed her final ruin.
Adieu, and believe me, always, most cordially, yours,
John Eandolph of Eoanoke.
Tuesday, Dec. 15, 1813. Wednesday.
P. S. Have you read Lord Byron's Giaour? I have been delighted
with it. He is a poet, as was emphatically said of our P. Henry,
" He is an orator !" I have also been much pleased with Horace in
London, and the Intercepted Twopenny Post.

30 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.

Key to Randolph. Georgetown, January 20, 1814.
My dear Friend, — * * * I have no news that I think woula
interest you. Cheves is said to have been raade Speaker, against the
wishes of the administration party, who were very active for ftrundy,
I cannot help thinking his election a favorable circumstance.
I can hear nothing of the book you mention (English) from any
one but Swift, who says he heard it spoken of in New-York as an
ingenious performance. I would read it, and give you my opinion
of it, if I came across it, provided it was not too long. I don't be
lieve there are any new objections to be discovered to the truth of
Christianity, thpugh there may be some art in presenting old onos in
a new dress. My faith has been greatly confirmed by the infidel
writers I have read ; and I think such would be the effect upon any one
who has examined the evidences. Our Church recommends their perusal
to student^ of divinity, which shows she is not afraid of them. Men
may aa'gue ingeniously against our faith — as indeed they may against
any thing — but what can they say in defence of their own ? I would
carry the war into their own territories. I would ask them what they
believed. If they said they believed any thing, I think that thing
might be shown to be more full of dif&culties, and liable to infinitely
greater objections than the system they opposed, and they raore
credulous and unreasonable for believing it. If they said they be
lieved nothing, you could not, to be sure, have any thing further to
say to them. In that case they would be insane, or, at best, illy
qualified to teach others what they ought to believe or disbelieve.
I can, never doubt (for we have the word of God for it, and it is so
plainly a consequence of his goodness) that all who inquire, with that
sincerity and earnestness which so awful a subject requires, will find
the,truth — " Seek, and ye shall find." Did you ever read " Grotius
de Veritate ?" I should like to see an infidel attempt an answer to
that book. * * *. Rofudolph to Key. Richmond, February 17, 1814.
Dear Frank : — You plead want of time, and I may, with equal
truth declare, that I have nothing worth twelve and half cents —
which, I believe, is the pcstage from here to the city of O. Indeed
I have been living myself in " a world without souls," until my heart
is " as dry as a chip," and as cold as a dog's nose." Do not suppose,
however, that the Jew book has made any impression upon me ; as I
cannot see how the human mind, unassisted by the light of Christi-

RETIREMENT. 31
anity, can stop half-way at deism, instead of travelling the whole
length to which fair deduction would lead., it, to frozen, cheerless athe
ism ; so it appears to me most wonderful, that any man, believing in
the Old Testament, can reject the New ; and it is perhaps not the
least conclusive of the proofs of the authenticity of the latter, that
the Jews, admitting as it were the premises, should blindly reject the
inevitable conclusion.
Have you read the work of Paley, reviewed in a late Edinburgh ?
'• The Lord deliver me from Archdeacon Paley !" I am persuaded
that, with the best intentions, this man has done infinite — rathei
great mischief to the cause he espouses. You are rich in hav
ing Swift and Meade with you. I am glad that the Colonel
(what is his Christian name ?) has escaped the recoil of our own
measures. Bid him and W  accept my best wishes. Poor
W  ! what a situation his imprudence has reduced him to ! I
have thought a hundred times of the meeting and parting, when he
returns to his prison-house, between him and his family ; and I bless
God that I have been the probable means of saving Charles and Mrs.
Eidgely from a like pang. Why do you say nothing of Charles
Sterrett Eidgely? It is the more necessary, since he has given up
writing to rae. My warraest wishes attend him and all at Oakland !
Eemember me, also, to Blenheim and the Woodyard.
We are all in a bustle here with the news from Europe. For my
part, I hope that Blunderbuss Castlereagh may succeed in prevent
ing a peace " which shall confirm to the French Empire an extent of
territory France under her kings never knew."- If they permit hira
to retain the low countries and Piedmont, they will act like the
sapient commissioner appointed to examine the vaults of the Par
liament House, on the alarm of the gunpowder-plot, who reported,
" that he had discovered seventy-five barrels of gunpowder concealed
under faggots ; tliat he had caused fifty to be removed, and Iwped the
other twenty-five would do no harm."
I see the Federal Eepublican, on the authority of the Evening
Post, has accused me of being " an obvious imitator of Lord Chatham."
Let theni bepraise their favorites as much as they please, and at my
expense, too, provided they do not class rae with the servile herd of
iraitators whom I despise and shun. No man is more sensible than
I am of the distance between myself and Lord Chatham ; but I would
scorn to imitate even him. My powers, suoh as they are, have not
been improved by culture. The first time that I ever dreamed of
speaking in public, was on the eve of my election in March, 1799,
when I opposed myself (fearful odds !) to Patrick Henry. My man
ner is spontaneous, flowing, like my raatter, from the impulse of the
moment;. and when I do not feel strongly, I cannot speak to any
purpose. These fits are independent of my volition. The best

32 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
speech that I ever made, was about the third or fourth, on the subject
of the Connecticut Eeserve, 1800. During the last four or five years,
I have perceived a sensible decline in my powers — which I estimate
with as much impartiality as you would ; in a word, as if they had
belonged to another. I am not better persuaded of the loss of my
grinders, or of the wrinkles in my face — and care as much for the one
as the other. Any other man but yourself (or perhaps Meade) would
take this long paragraph as proof that I am insincere, or self-deceived.
To tell you the truth, I am sensible of the gross injustice that has
been done me in the paragraph in question. I had as lief be accused
of any crime, not forbidden by the decalogue, as of ludtation. If
these critics choose to say that I have neglected, or thrown away, or
buried my talent, I will acquiesce in the censure ; but amongst the
herd of imitators I will not be ranked, because I feel that I could
not descend to imitate any human being. But I have long ago
learned — Malignum spurnere vulgus.
Best wishes to Mrs. Key and the little ones. If Meade be with
you, I salute him. Yours, truly,
John Eandolph op Eoanoke.
Francis Scott Key, Esq. '
I have been delighted with the Posthuraus Works of Burke —
the father of political wisdom — and have revelled in literary sweets :
Horace in London ; Eejected Adresses ; Twopenny-post Bag ; The
Giaour, and the critique upon it in the Edinburgh Eeview. Many
articles in that journal, and in the Quarterly, have amused and in
structed me. I know you do not like the Scotch fraternity of critics ;
neither do I ; but /as est ab hoste docere. What a picture of French
society does the review of Grimm unfold ! There are some deep re
flections in that article, which I suppose comes from the pen of Du-
gald Stewart. It is eminently favorable to the cause of morality.
Our great folks at Cr. treat us little folks in Virginia very much
as great folks are wont to treat little ones, viz., with sovereign
neglect. Randolph to Key. Richmond, March 2, 1814.
Dear Sir, — Your letter found me in bed, harassed and afflicted
with gouty affection of the alimentary canal. It was, I believe, the
best medicine that could have been administered to me, but, aided by
an anniversary discourse, which Joe Lewis was considerate enough
to send rae, and which carae also in the nick of time, the effect was
wonderful. I am half disposed to be angry with you for passing

RETIREMENT. 3g
over the said discourse as if it never had existed, and especially for
lea-ving me to the charity of Joe Lewis, but for whose contribution I
raight have been deprived of the pleasure of seeing it at all ; for you
need not flatter yourself that the newspapers generally will republish
it. Now, by way of penance for this misplaced modesty, I do enjoin
upon you to thank the aforesaid Joe in my name for his most oblig
ing attention ; one that has given me a pleasure that I shall not of
fend you in attempting to express.
You are right, my friend, but who will follow you ? Who will
abandon the expedient to adopt the counsels of self-denial, of mortifi
cation, of duty? For my part, much as I abhor the factious motive
and manner of the opposition prints, and many of its leaders, if I
could find as many men of my way of thinking as drubbed the
French at Agincourt, I would throw off the yoke, or perish in the
atterapt. Louisiana is not my country. I respect as much the opinions of
the people of London as of the Western States. After these avowals
you will not " be glad" I fear " to see my nil admirari." My father
left, for some reason of his own, this old family adage, and adopted
fari qu<B gentiat for his motto. But although I have returned to
the old family maxim, I cannot shake off the habit which I acquired
during thirty years' practice of speaking my mind sometimes. Nev
ertheless, I am persuaded that if we could all read your discourse,
it would produce a most happy and beneficial effect on all ranks of
the people. But the people will not hear, cannot read, and if they
could, cannot understand, until the paroxysm of drunkenness is over.
Wanting your faith I cannot repress my forebodings. They weigh
me down and immerse body and soul. I never stood more in need
of your society. In this world without souls every body is taken up
with " the one thing needful" — what that is you must not consult St.
Paul but the Jewish doctors, to discover.
I was struck with the review of Grimm, and with the hypothesis
of the reviewer, on the tendency of a certain state of society _ to
deaden the feelings, ossify the heart, and sharpen the sense of ridi
cule. Yes, in spite of its being French verse, 1 was pleased with the
tribute of Voltaire to the power of that God, whom he never knew.
I have been looking over the four first nurabers of the Edinburgh
Eeview, and was struck with the change of principle.
In answer to the foregoing letter Mr. Key writes :
'" I have not yet seen the Giaour, but have looked over the Bride
of Abydos. It has some fine passages in it, but it is too full of
those crooked-named out-of-the-way East Indian things. I have
long ago, however, resolved that there shall be no such poet as Wal-
voL. II. 2*

34 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
ter Scott as long as he lives, and I can admire nobody that ^iratonds
to rival him.
«' I should like to have the first numbers of the Edinburgh Eeview.
I remember very well the great and shameful change jf principle it
has undergone. It is to be regretted that it is so popular a work in
this country. How came the re-publishers by their recommendations of
it ? I see you are among them — with some good company, and some
rather bad. Is it not desirable that there should be a good Ameri
can Literary Eeview ? One inculcating the sound principles of the
quarterly reviewers, and ¦ exposing our book-makers, would perhaps
improve both our taste and habits. Have you seen an article in
Bronson's select reviews on American song-writing ? I do not know
who the author is, but I think he could conduct such a work with
much spirit. I have seldom, I think, seen a better piece of criti
cism." In reply, Eandolph says :
" I do think a review on the plan you mention would be highly
beneficial, and if I was fit for any thing I should like to engage in a
work of the sort. But fourteen years of congressional life have
rendered me good for nothing. It may be an excuse for idleness,
for this devil attacks me in every shape. But it seems to me, to
work any material change in the state of things, we must begin (as
some logicians lay their premises) a great way off. I mean with
the children ; the old folks have taken their ply, and will neither
bend nor break.
" ' How came the Edinburgh Eeview by my recommendation ?'
Because the re-publishers applied for it by letter ; and when I gave
it I had not gotten sight of the cloven foot ; I had seen, however, some
puerile abuse of myself in that journal ; but this and much more
would have been amply atoned for by very many masterly articles,
if they had not betrayed a want of reverence for religion, and a
hankering after France. Nevertheless, some of the late numbers in
a great measure redeem their former sins. The truth is that men of
diffrent principles, political as well as religious, write for that journal,
and it may be always quoted against itself There are some noble
specimens of the art of criticism in the two last numbers that I
have seen.
" I cannot yield the precedence of Lord Byron to Walter Scott. I
admit your objection to the ' crooked-named out-of-the-way Turkish
things.' But this must be pardoned in a traveller, who has explored
the woods that wave o'er Delphi's steep, and swam across the Helles
pont. No poet in our language (the exception is unnecessary),
Shakspeare and Milton apart, has the same power over my feelings
as Byron. He is, like Scott, careless, and indulges hiraself in great

RETIREMENT. 35
license ; but he does not, like your favorite, WTito by the piece, 1
am persuaded that his fragments are thrown out by the true spirit
of inspiration, and that he never goads his pen to work. When you
havo read the Giaour, the first, I think, of his poems, I am persua
ded that you will change your opinion of this singular author, and
yet more singular man. His feelings are too strong to endure tho
privation of religious sentiment. His time is nbt yet come, but he
cannot continue to exist in the chill and gloom of skepticism,
" Meade is daily expected here. There is a general wish that ho
should preach the first sermon in the Monumental Church.
" What an occasion for a man who would not sink under it ! He
might do a great deal of good were he to yield to the desire of the
congregation, and establish himself amongst them ; but where is the
field in which he would not do good ?
" I have not seen the article you mention in Bronson's Select Ee
view, In its new form I think that a respectable and useful publi
cation. To be sure, it is made of scissors ; but it is so far J)eyond
the Port-Folio as to be comparatively good. The last is the most con
temptible thing that ever imposed on the public in the shape of a
raagazine — and that is going very far. When your letter and
W  's P. S. arrived, I \^s in all the horrors of what is vulgarly
called Blue Devils ; nor am I yet wholly recovered. I could not,
however, resist the inclination to make my acknowledgraents for your
kindness." '
Randolph to Key. Richmond, May 7th, I8I4
My Dear Friend — Mr. Meade tells rae that he expects to see
you in a few days. I cannot let him depart without some token of
my remembrance. He goes away early on Monday morning, so that,
to guard against failure, I write to-day. He has made an engage
ment to preach in Hanover, thirty-five miles off, on Monday evening.
No raan can respect or admire his zeal in the sacred cause to which
he has devoted himself, more than I do — but I fear he will wear
himself out, and that the sum of his usefulness will, on the whole, be
diminished, unless he will consent to spare himself His health and
strength are evidently impaired since I saw him last. I fear for his
breast. I must refer you to him for what occurs here, except the
eagerness of all classes and ranks of people to hear him. No man
can be raore generally revered than he is.
As to the review, I ara out of the question on that and every
other subject requiring any species of exertion. I said truly when
I told you that congressional life had destroyed me— fruges^ con
sumere — this is all that I am fit for ; and such is my infirmity of

36 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
body that I make a very poor hand even at that — notwithstanding I
am one of those who (as the French say) sum ni pour la digestion.
Since the hot weather set in, I have been in a state of collapse,
and am as feeble as an infant — with all this I am tortured with
rheumatism, or gout, a wretched cripple, and my raind is yet more
weak and diseased than my body, I hardly know myself, so irreso
lute and timid have I become. In short, I hope that there is not an^
other creature in the world as unhappy as myself This I can say to
you. To the world I endeavor to put on a different countenance, and
hold a bolder language ; but it is sheer hypocrisy, assumed to guard
against ^e pity of mankind.
Mr. Meade will preach to-morrcw in the new church. He is
anxious on account of a silly piece, which that prince of coxcorabs
 ¦ has stuck into his paper. He has had no time for prepara
tion on so useful a subject, and is uneasy that the public expectation
has been led to it. Indeed who could treat it as it deserves ? cer
tainly no man whom I ever heard. Eemember me kindly to Mrs.
Key and all friends, amongst whom I must particularly mention
West and Sterrett Eidgely.
Most sincerely yours,
John Kandolph of Eoanoke.
I left the letter open that I might say a word about my friend's
discourse. He explained in a few satisfactory and appropriate words
why he should not touch upon a subject which many of his hearers
had been led to expect he would treat (the burning of the theatre on
whose site the new church was erected), and then gave us a most ex
cellent sermon on the pleasure of the true Christian's life. A prayer
which he introduced into this discourse, that the heart, even if it were
but one, of the unconverted might be touched, was raost affecting.
He preaches this afternoon at the Capitol, on the subject of the
Bible Societies.
Sunday, 2 o'clock, P. M.

CHAPTEE II.
ANCESTRAL PRIDE — ST. GEORGE — MADNESS,
John Eandolph had a morbid sensibility on the subject of his family
and his property. He belonged to one of the oldest, most numerous,
and wealthy families in Virginia — he cherished his family pride, and

ANCESTRAL PRIDE. 37
valued hereditary fortune far beyond its pecuniary worth. A money-
loving, or a money-making spirit constituted no part of his character.
His feelings and opinions on these subjects were purely Englifsh ; the
proud, yet munificent and accomplished Baron of some time-honored
castle with its thousand acres, and its villages of grateful and happy
tenants, handed down from sire to son, with all the associations of
pride and affection clustering around its walls and its forests, consti
tuted his beau ideal (not without reason) of the perfect gentleman.
Such, in no small degree, were the characters that composed the old
Virginia aristocracy. Eandolph loved their memory — formed him
self on their model — despised the law that sapped the foundation of
their greatness — and still hoped to preserve, in his own name and
family, some specimen that might be worthy of a comparison with
those 'noble men of the olden time.
He cherished the memory of his father with an increasing fond
ness to the day of his death. He always kept his father's miniature
hung up before him in his chamber, or about his person, when long
abroad from home. Last November, when on his way to Eichmond,
where he expected to be detained a few weeks only, he wrote back to
Dudley, " be so good as to send me my father's picture and three
lockets — they are in my writing-table drawer." He was now the only
son, St. George and Tudor the sons of Eichard, the only other de
scendants of that father whose memory he dwelt on so fondly. His
had been an " unprosperous life," and was now, as he thought, rapidly
drawing to a close. St. George was deaf and dumb — " the most
pitiable of the step-sons of nature.'' Tudor was all that was left, the
pride and hope of the family. These subjects caused him unceasing
anxiety. The intensity of his feelings cannot be understood, nor
justly appreciated by the novi homines of modern times. They
amounted alraost to a raonomania — they furnish a solution of raany
of the apparent inconsistencies of his after life, and was the imrae
diate cause of a rupture between himself and his step-father, whom,
,up to a very recent period, he had loved and venerated with the affec
tion and pride of a son. The efforts of mutual friends to heal this
anfortunate breach between father and son, was the principal cause
of his long delay in Eichmond during the past winter and spring.
Writing to Dudley in January, he says, " I have been detained here
by a very unpleasant piece of business" — and again in February, " I

38 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
have been, indeed, very much disturbed of late, by an occurrence aa
unexpected as it is distressing ; and, perhaps, I tinge other objects
with the hue of the medium through which I observe them."
The first cause of this misunderstanding with his step-father is
very characteristic of the man, and illustrates the feeling of family
pride that burned so intensely in his breast. The subject of con
versation was the passing of the Banister estate from in infant of
that faraily, to a brother of the half blood of the Shippen family.
Mr. Eandolph said that occurrence gave rise to the alteration
of the law of descents, and placed it on its present footing : he also
expressed in strong terms his disapprobation of the justice or
policy of such a law. Judge Tucker replied : " Why, Jack, you
ought not to be against that law, for you know if you were to die
without issue, you would wish your half brothers to have your estate."
'' I'll be damned, sir, if I do know it," said Eandolph, in great excite
ment ; and from that day ceased with his good and venerable step-
father all friendly intercourse. This occasion gave rise to many
cruel and unjust suspicions. Once brought to suspect a selfish mo
tive in him he had so rauch venerated, he began to look back with a
jealous eye on all his past transactions, and " trifles light as air"
becarae " confirmations strong as holy writ."
In 1810-1 1 he called in an attorney and proposed instituting suit.
He stated that Judge Tucker had never, in fact, settled his accounts
as his guardian — that he had taken the accounts stated upon trust — ¦
that Judge Tucker had contrived, fraudulently he thought, to appro
priate to himself certain slaves, which had been given to his mother
by her father, Colonel Bland, upon her marriage with his father,
John Eandolph the elder, which his father had held thenceforth till
the day of his death, and which were mentioned as a part of his
estate. He stated all the circumstances of the case ; and admitted
ihat the question of his father's right to the slaves depended on the
jonstruction and effect of the statute of Virginia of 1758, making
^mrole gifts of slaves void. He stated the facts and the law on which
ae rested his claim to the slaves with as much precision as coun
sel could have stated them in a bill in Chancery ; he was perfectly
acquainted with the statute on the subject, and the decisions of the
Court of Appeals upon it. His counsel dissuaded him from his pur
pose of bringing suit ; but he often afterwards recurred to the subject,

ANCESTRAL PRIDE. 39
and never seems to have been wholly reconciled. The old man, how
ever, was unconscious of having given him any cause of offence. He
sent a mutual friend to see Mr. Eandolph soon after his arrival in
Eichmond : " Do me the favor," says he, " to go and see Mr. Ean
dolph, and ^sk him if he ever received a letter from me on the sub
ject of the misunderstanding between hiraself and his brother Bev
erly, and whether he ever answered it? Then ask him what has
alienated him from one, whom for more than thirty years he has
known as a father ?"
Eandolph replied to the messenger, aiter a frown, that he had
received the letter alluded to, and had not answered it ; and after a
long pause said he had imposed it as a law on himself on this subject,
not to converse about it.
The cause of this alienation of mind we have seen. His morbid
sensibility on these subjects was now in a new and unexpected form
to be sorely tried ; his family pride to be deeply mortified, and his
fond hopes of its future continuance and of its future distinction to
be blasted forever.
He thus writes to Mr. Key : Roanoke, June 3, 1814.
Dear Frank — My departure from Eichmond was as sudden as
the occasion was mournful and distressing. My eldest nephew,
St. George, in consequence of an unsuccessful attachment to Miss
 , the daughter of a worthy neighbor of his mother, had becorae
unsettled in his intellects, and on ray arrival at Farmville I found him
a frantic maniac. I have brought him up here, and Dr. Dudley, a
friend and treasure to me above all price, assists rae in the manage
ment of him We have no hopes of his restoration.
I would congratulate you on the late most iraportant occurrences
in Europe ; but I cannot write. Let me hear from you, I pray.
Commend me to Mrs. Key, and West, and Eidgely, and all who care
to inquire after rae. Yours ever,
John Eandolph of Eoanoke,
Randolph to Key.
' Roanoke, July 14, 1814.
Dear Frank — I have but half a sheet of paper left, and it is too
late to send to the Court House (thirteen miles) for more. But with
this half sheet and half a drop of ink diluted to a penful, I hope to
make out something like a letter.

40 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
It is not the young man you saw in Georgetown, just before the
declaration of war, whose unhappy condition I described ; he is yet
at Cambridge : the patient is his elder brother, just entering his
twenty-third year, and has been deaf and dumb from his cradle.
This is the principal cause of his present situation : He has made
several attempts to marry, and brooding over the cause of his failure
has reduced him to his present state. He has become manageable
with little trouble. His memory for words, persons, and events is
unimpaired, but he cannot combine. He has dwelt a great deal on
the terrors of future punishment also, and often mentioned the devil,
but that was subsequent to his total derangement. His mind runs on
it only as on other subjects of primary interest.
I saw some account of your campaigns in the newspapers. Wads-
worth's letter is a curiosity — an honest account from a military com
mander. Your labors, my good friend, are drawing to a close. Eely
upon it, we have peace forthwith. The points in " contestation," our
rulers say, are removed by the peace in Europe, and will not be
" touched" (another favorite phrase) in the treaty of peace. They
might as well say they were removed by our declaration of war, if
they were neutrcd rights, for that they contended for. Poor devils,
what a figure they do out ! Yet they will look as consequential as
ever, and even carry the people with them.
Have you read the Corsair ? or have you lost all relish for such pro
ductions ? I think his lordship is falling into the errors ascribed by
him to Walter Scott. There is, however, some exquisite poetry. I have
been trying to forget my wretched situation in the perusal of Burke.
I have read his matchless diatribe on the a;ttack of D. of B. and
L. of L. — his letters on the regicide peace, and indeed the whole
of the fifth volume. New- York edition. How much it is to be re
gretted that he did not live to, publish his abridgment of English
History I have also run over the Eeflections, and the Appeal from
the New to the Old Whigs. 0 that he could have seen this day !
You say nothing of Bonaparte. How I long for half an hour's chat with
you on the subject of these late surprising and providential events.
Present me affectionately to Mrs. Key and your little one, and
reraeraber me kindly to West and Eidgely, when you see them. If Lord
Byron's Ode to Bonaparte is in Georgetown, pray send me a copy
by post. Dudley returns your greeting. He is to me a treasure
above all price. Exclusive of his excellent temper, alacrity, and in
telligence, he is a most skilful physician. I should sink without his
support. I thank God that he has raised up to me such an help.
Adieu, ray dear sir. I am in truth, yours,
John Eandolph of Eoanoke.
I came down here yesterday with ray poor nephew, who seems
incurably alienated from his mother, I shall return in a few days.

ANCESTRAL PRIDE. 4I

Randolph to Broclcenbrough. Roanoke, July 15, 1814.
I had begun to fear that ray long visitation of last winter and
spring, had put you so much out of the ha'Sit of writing to me, that
you would never resume it. But your letter jf the 6th (just re
ceived) encourages me to hope that I shall hear from you as formerly.
It was a sensible relief to me. But I will say nothing about my
situation. Poor St. George continues quite irrational. He is however very
little mischievous, and governed pretty easily. His memory of per
sons, things, words, and events, is not at all impaired ; but he has no
power of combination, and is entirely incoherent. His going to the
Springs is out of the question, and mine, I fear, equally so, although
my rheumatism requires the warm bath. By this time you are on
your way thither. Except that it is too cold, the weather could not
have been finer.
What a climate we live under !
As to peace, I have not a doubt that we shall have it forthwith.
Our folks are prepared to say that the pacification of Europe has
swept away the matters in contestation, as M  , the Secretary of
State, has it. All that we see in the Government prints is to recon
cile us the better to the terms which they must receive from the
enemy. From the time of his flight from Egypt, my opinion of the
character of Bonaparte has never changed, except for the worse. I
have considered him from that date a coward, and ascribed his suc
cess to the deity he worships. Fortune. His insolence and rashness
have met their just reward. Had he found an efficient government
in France, on his abandonment of his brave companions in arms in
Egypt, and returned to Paris, he would have been cashiered for ruin
ing the best appointed armament that ever left an European port.
But all was confusion and anarchy at Paris, and instead of a coup de
fusil, he was rewarded with a sceptre. He succeeded in throwing
the blarae of Aboukir on poor Brueys. He could safely talk of
" his orders to the Admiral," after L' Orient had blown up. His
Eussian and German campaign is another suoh commentary on his
character ; it is all of a piece.
If the allies adhere to their treaty of Chaumont, the peace of Eu
rope will be preserved ; but in France, I think, the seeds of disorder
must abound. Instead of the triple aristocracy of the Noblesse, the
Church, and the Parliaments, I see nothing but janissaries, and a
divan of ruffians — Algiers on a great scale. Moral causes I see
none ; and I am well persuaded that these are not created in a day.
Matters of inveterate opinion, when once rooted up, are dead, never
to revive ; other opinions raust succeed them. But I am prosing—

42 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH
uttering a string of common-place that every one ca,n write, and nc
one can deny. But you brought it on yourself You expected
that I would say something, and I resolved to try. I can bear wit
ness to the fact of Mrs. Brockenbrough's prediction respecting! Bona
parte's retirement. I wish I were permitted to name five ladios who
should constitute the Cabinet of this country ; our affairs would be
conducted in another guess manner. This reminds rae of Mrs. G., of
whora I have at last heard. Mr. G. wrote me late in February, from
London. They were going to Bath, and " if circumstances on the
continent would permit, meant to take a tour through France,"
How well-timed their trip to Europe has been.
I am here completely hors du monde. My neighbor,  , with
whom I have raade a violent effort to establish an intercourse, has
been here t'wice, by invitation — W. Leigh, as often, on his way to
court ; and on Saturday, I was agreeably surprised, by sturabling on
Frank Gilraer, who was wandering to and fro in the woods, seeking
ray cabin. He left on Tuesday for his brother's in Henry. Except
my standing dish, you have my whole society for nine weelcs. On the
terms by which I hold it, life is a curse, from which I would will
ingly escape, if I knew where to fiy. I have lost my relish for read
ing ; indeed, I could not devour even the Corsair with the zest that
Lord Byron's pen generally inspires. It is very inferior to the
Giaour, or the Bride. The character of Conrad is unnatural. Blessed
with his mistress, he had no motive for desperation.
My plantation affairs, always irksome, are now revolting. I have
lost three-fourths of the finest and largest crop I ever had.
My best respects and regard to Mrs. B.
I am, as ever, yours,
John Eandolph of Eoanoke
Dr. Dudley is (as you raay suppose) a treasure to me above all
price. Withou'^ him, what should I do ? He desires his respects to
you both.
As to an English Constitution for France, they will have one
when they all ^peak the English language, and not before. Have
you read Morris's oration on the 29th of June ? His description of
Bonaparte, "taking money for his crown," is very fine. It is a pic
ture. I see hira. There are some cuts in the same page that our
fulminating statesmen will not like.
Sunday the I7th. — I am compelled to be at Prince Edward
Court to-morrow, and the weather is so intolerably hot, that I shall
go a part of the way this afternoon, and put my letter in the Farm
ville post-office, whence it will go direct to Eichmond, instead of
waiting five days on the road. Our crops, lately drowned, are now
burning up. I begin to feel the effects of the fresh in my health as
well as my purse. Dudley and, myself both have experienced the ill

, ANCESTRAL PRIDE. 43
consequences of our daily visits to the low grounds. , The negroes^
however, continue healthy. Out of more than two hundred, not a
patient since I came home.
Who is it that says " il-y-a tant de plaisir a bavarder avec un
ami !" , Perhaps you will reply that the pleasure is not so great ci»«
bavardi. Randolph to Key. Roanoke, July 31, 1814.
Affliction has assailed me in a new shape. My younger nephew
whom you saw in G. Town two years ago has fallen, I fear, into a con
firmed pulmonary consumption. He was the pride, the sole hope of
our family- How shall I announce to his wretched mother that the
last stay of her widowed life is falling ? Give me some comfort, my
good friend, I beseech you. He is now travelling by slow journeys
horae. What a scene awaits him there ! His birth-place in ashes,
his, mother worn to a skeleton with disease and grief, his brother cut
off from all that distinguishes man to his advantage from the brute
beast. , I do assure you that my own reason has staggered under this
cruel blow. I know, or rather have a confused conception of what
I ought to do, and sometimes strive, not altogether ineffectually I
hope, to do it ; but again all is chaos and misery. ' My faculties are
benumbed ;. I feel suffocated ; let me hear from you, I pray,
,. Yours, in truth,
J, E.
St. George, my elder nephew, is calm and governable, but entirely
irrational. Commend me to Mrs, Key, and to Eidgely and West,
Since writing the above my whole crop (tobacco and cort) is destroyed
by a fresh, the greatest that has been known within twenty years, I
fear a famine next summer ; for this country, if we had the means of
buying, is out of the way of a supply, except by distant land-carriage,
and the harvests of Eappahannock, &c,, cannot be brought up to
Eichmond by water. The poor slaves I fear will suffer dreadfully.

Randdph to BrOckenbrOUgk. Roanoke, Aug, 1, 1814,
You find in me, I fear, not merely an unprofitable but a trouble
some correspondent ; all my conversation is on paper, I have no one
to converse with, for I have hardly seen Dudley since my return from
Farmville, and I try to forget myself, or to obtain some relief from my
own thoughts, by pouring them out on one who has heretofore lent to
me perhaps too partial an ear. Ihave lived to feel that there are " many

44 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
things worse than poverty or death," those bugbears that terrify tho
great children of the world, and soraetimes drive them to eternal ruin.
It requires, however, firmer nerves than mine to contemplate, without
shrinking, even in prospect, the calamities which await this unhappy
district of country — famine and all its concomitant horrors of dis
ease and misery. To add to the picture, a late requisition of militia
for Norfolk carries dismay and grief into the bosoms of many fami
lies in this country ; and to havo a juJ^t conception of the scene, it is
necessary to be on the- spot. This is our court day, when the con
scripts are to report themselves, and I purposely abstain from the
sight of wretchednes that I cannot relieve, I have indeed enough of
it at home. The river did not abate in its rise until last night at
sunset. It has, after twenty -four hours, just retired within its banks.
The ruin is tremendous. The granary of this part of the State is
rifled of its stores. Where then are the former furnishers of the
great support of life to look for a supply ? With a family of more
than two hundred mouths looking up to me for food, I feel an awful
charge on my hands. It is easy to rid myself of the burthen if I could
shut my heart to the cry of humanity and the voice of duty. But in
these poor slaves I have found my best and 'most faithful friends ;
and I feel that it would be more difficult to abandon them to the cruel
fate to which our laws would consign them, than to suffer with them.
Among other of his tracts, I have been reading to-day Burke on
the Policy of the Allies. If the book is within your reach, pray give
it a perusal. It has a strong bearing on the present circumstances
of France. A thousand conceptions have arisen in my mind on that
subject and on the actual condition of our country, which I regret
it has not been in my power to commit to paper ; but these bubbles of
the imagination have vanished : I coul^ not embody them in the
happy moment of projection. You see that I speak the language of
an adept, although hardly out of my noviciate.

CHAPTEE III,
MILITARY CAMPAIGN.
Some time in the month of July, 1814, Cochrane made his appear
ance in the Chesapeake. This appearance of a formidable enemy
within their own borders, spread consternation among the unprotected
people along the shores. Many depredations and outrages were

MILITARY CAMPAIGN 45
conimitted at Hampton, Havre de Grace, and other exposed places.
Finally an army was landed and marched across the country towards
Washington City. They were met by a body of raw militia and a few
marines, at Bladensburg, where "was fought, or rather was run, the
celebrated races of Bladensburg. Washington fell into the hands of
the enemy, and the archives and public buildings were destroyed. On
the news of this disaster, Eandolph hastened to the scene of action,
prepared, if occasion required, to lend his aid in defending the shores
of Virginia. The following letter, addressed to Dr. Dudley, will show how the
military spirit had come over him : Camp Fairpieli-,, September 2, 1814.
My dear Theodore — You may be surprised at not hearing
frora me. But, first, I lost my horses ; secondly, I got a violent
bilious complaint, not cholera, but cousin-german to it ; thirdly, I
heard the news of Washington, and, without delay, proceeded hither.
I am now under orders to proceed to the brick house, forty-two miles
on York road, just below the confluence of Pamunkey and Mattapony.
Should you come down, report yourself to the surgeon-general. Dr.
Jones, of Nottoway. But first come to camp, and see Watkins
Leigh, the governor's aid.
But his military career was very brief Finding that the enemy
meditated an attack on Baltimore, and that all danger of an imme
diate invasion of the shores of Virginia had passed by, he hastened
back to Eichmond. On the 8th of September, he writes to Mr. Key
from that city :
" I have been here ten days,' including four spent in reconnoiter
ing the lower country between York and James Eiver, from the con
fluence of Mattapony and Pamunkey to the mouth of Chiekahomany.
You will readily conceive my anxiety on the subject of my friends
at Blenheim, the Woodyard, and Alexandria. Thank God ! Geo:^e-
town is safe. I was in terror for you and yours. Pray, let me hear
from you. Tell me something of Sterrett Eidgely, and remember
me to him and all who care to remember me. I have witnessed a sad
spectacle in my late ride ; but I do not wish to depress your spirits.
Dudley is at home with St. George. Poor Tudor is ill, very ill, at
Mr. Morris's, near New- York.
Mr. Eandolph remained in Eichmond about a month. Hearing
still more unfavorable tidings of his nephew, he set out about the
Sth of October on a journey to Morrisaniaj the family residence of

46 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Governeur Morris, Esq. , near the city of New- York. On the 1 Sth, he
writes from Baltimore to Dudley :
" I have been detained here since Monday, by the consequences of
an accident that befel me at Port Oonway (opposite Port Eoyal), on
Monday morning. At three o'clock; I was roused to set out in the
stage. Mistaking, in the dark, a very steep staircase for a passage,
at the end of which I expected to find the descent, — walking boMly
on, I fell from the top to the bottom, and was taken up senseless.
My left shoulder and elbow were severely hurt ; also the right ankle.
My hat saved, my head, which was bruised, but not cut. Neverthe
less, I persevered, got to Georgetown, and the next day came to this
place, where I have been compelled to remain in great pain."
October 23d, 1814, he writes from Morrisania:
" After various accidents, one of which had nearly put an end to
my unprosperous life, and confined me nearly a week ^n the road, I
reached this place yesterday. Tudor is better ; I have hopes of him,
if we can get him to Virginia in his present plight."
November 17th, he again writes to Dr. Dudley :
" On returning from Morrisania, on Sunday, the 24th of October,
the driver overturned me in Cortlandt-street, by driving over a pile
of stones, &c., before a new house, unfinished, which nuisance extended
more than half way across a narrow street. I am very seriously in
jured. The patella is, in itself, unhurt ; but the ligaments are very
much wrenched, so that a tight bandage alone enables me to hobble from
one room to another wit> the help of a stick. I hope to be able to
bear the motion of a carriage by the last of this week. I shall then
go to Philadelphia, and hope to see you by the first of next month ;
assuredly (God willing) before Christmas. I am a poor miserable
cripple, and you are my only support."
He arrived in Philadelphia about the first of December, and re
mained in that city the greater part of the winter, the weather being
too inclement for him to travel. His time was most agreeably spent
in fhe society of some of his old and most valued friends. Mrs. Clay,
the widow of his late much lamented friend, Joseph Clay ; Dr. Chap
man, Mr. Parish, and others. The son of Mr. Clay, who bore his
narae, John Eandolph Clay, he took to Virginia with him, defrayed
the expenses of his education for a number of years, and watched
over him with the care and anxiety of a father.
On his arrival in Eichmond, he thus writes to Mr. Key :
RiGHMONDj March 9, 1815;
Dear Frank : — I have lately got out of the habit of writing tc
my friends, even to you — ^you to whom I am so much indebted.

MILITARY CAMPAIGN. 47
Such is the consequence of that state of mind under which I have
unhappily labored for a long, long time past — the victim of ennui,
indolence, and despair. I am not even as thankful as I ought to be
for the great blessing lately vouchsafed us, at the moment when the
wits of our rulers had become inextricably puzzled,, and all their ex
pedients to raise men or money had failed. Well, here is a peaee at
last ; and a peace, if I may judge of the stagnation here, very like
a war : but this topic has become stale and threadbare.
I found my poor boy here worse than I left him four months
before, and daily declining. I must try to send him to the Mediter
ranean coast of Europe, although with little hope. Sometimes I
think he had better give up his innocent life in the arms of his poor
mother, instead of perishing (as I fear will be his lot should he cross
the Atlantic) among strangers in a foreign land ! Yet, again, what
boots it where we die.
What are you going to do — have you given up the editorial
scheme ? Do you really think that the mere restoration of peace
has anticipated all your schemes to be of service to this poor country ?
Are the present men and measures riveted upon the nation, at least
for our lifetime ? I think so, and therefore I wish to keep out of
the vortex " betwixt vexed Scylla and the hoarse Calabrian shore ;"
not to tread that " huge Serbonian bog, where armies whole (of
politicia^) have sunk." '
Do not think this a nolo episcopari, because of a certain letter
that you may have seen. Times have changed since that letter was
written, and nos mutamus in illis. If I can compass it, I will go
with mv poor sick boy, and sit by him and comfm-t him as well as
I can. On his return home, Mr. Eandolph was urged by his old friends
to become a candidate for Congress in the approaching elections ;
they assailed him on all hands, entreated hira, followed him with
solicitations that brooked no denial. Many who had deserted him
on a former occasion wished for an opportunity to retrieve them
selves, and to show their high appreciation of a man whom, in the
hour of excitement and party blindness, they had been induced to
abandon. The communication of the determination of his friends to
support him at the ensuing election brought out a swarm of detract
ors, whom he was urged to answer. He steadily refused. " It is too
late," says he, " in the day to vindicate my public character before a
people whom I represented fourteen' years, and whom, if they do not
now know me, never will. I therefore abstain from all places of public
resort, as well from inclination as principle." He entered the field

48 LIFE 'OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
with his old competitor, Mr. Epps, and was triumphantly elected.
Writing to Mr. Key on the 25th of April, he says : " You will have
heard of my re-election ; an event which has given me no pleasure,
except so far as it has been gratifying to my friends. It is a- station
as unfit for me as I am for it. For a long time my mind has refused
to travel in that track. I cannot force myself to think on the sub
ject of my public affairs. I am engrossed by reflections of a very
different, and far more important nature. I am ' a stricken deer,'
and feel disposed to ' leave the hind.' The hand of calamity has
pressed sorely upon me ; I do not repine at it. On the contrary, I
return thanks for the (apparent) evil as well as good, which He who
knows what is best for rae has appointed for my portion in this life.
May it have the effect of drawing me close unto Hira, without whose
gracious mercy I feel that I am a lost, undone creature."
Mr. Key expressed himself sincerely gratified at the triumph of
his friend : " Such an one," says he, " has not to my knowledge ever
fallen to the lot of any man. It does equal honor to the electors
and the elected." Mr. Key delicately suggested to him that there is
a virtue, the most difficult, but the most noble, which he>>was now
called upon to practise ; it was to show the meekness and moderation
of true magnanimity after so signal a victory. " Excuse rae," says
he, " for thinking of reminding you of this. It springs frora a
heart, araong whose warmest wishes it is, that you should exhibit
every grace and dignity of which this poor frail nature of ours is
capable." ^
Eandolph, in reply, says ; " You will have perceived I hope, my good
friend, from my letter by Dr.  , that I have felt no disposition to
indulge in an unbecoming triumph on the event of the late election
in this district. I do assure you with the utmost sincerity, that, so
far as I am personally concerned, I cannot but regret the partiality
of my friends, who insisted on holding me up on this occasion. I
am engrossed by sentiments of a far different character, and I look
forward to the future in this world, to say nothing of the next, with
anticipations that forbid any idle expression of exultation. On the
contrary, ray sensations are such as become a dependent creature,
whose only hope for salvation rests upon the free grace of Hira to
whom we must look for peace in this world, as well as in the world
to come. I cannot give expression to the feelings which fill my

NEW ENGLAND. 49
mind, and by which it is overcome ; I struggle even with the diffi
culty of repressing them on occasions, and before persons, where the
only effftct would be to cover me with ridicule."

CHAPTEE IV,
NEW ENGLAND,
The subjects of difficulty between the United States and Great Britain
affected the interests of the New England States more than any other
section of the Union. It was their seamen that were captured, their
carrying trade that was interdicted by maritime adjudications, their
shipping and coramerce that were crippled and destroyed by the or
ders in council. The Southern States, being wholly given to plant
ing and other agricultural pursuits, were only affected by the tempo
rary suspension of a market for the sale of their products. Both,
however, united in their petitions and remonstrances to Congress,
and in demands for a redress of their grievances. But when the
measures adopted for this purpose began to operate, it was found by
the New England States that the remedy was more burthensome
and destructive than the evils complained of An American seaman
was occasionally captured, but as a compensation hundreds of British
sailors fled to our more lucrative and agreeable service. Much too
frequently, it is true, an Araerican vessel and her cargo were con
demned by a British court of admiralty, yet many escaped and pur
sued a successful and profitable voyage ; but the erabargo drove ev
ery searaan from the service, and by one fell blow put an end to all
commerce. Before this fatal expedient there was hazard in every
enterprise, but there was hope to cheer on the adventurers ; now
even hope was extinguished, and the means of winning a precarious
subsistence from the perilous deep were wrested from them. These
were the feelings and opinions in New England. Massachusetts in
terposed her authority ; pronounced the law unconstitutional and op
pressive, and declared, that unless some speedy remedy were applied,
necessity, the law of self-preservation that rises above all other law,
would impel her to some ulterior and raore decisive course. To the
vol. II. 4

50 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
honor of Mr. Jefferson be it said, he yielded to the necessity of the,
case, aud consented to a repeal of the embargo laws. Up to this
period there was nothing but what was highly creditable to both par
ties. But Mr. Jefferson had gone into retirement, and other coun
cils ruled the destiny of the nation. Measure after measure was
adopted,' embarrassing and ruinous to the interests of New England,
until finally the whole nation was plunged in war. All its armies
and military resources were transported to the frontiers of Canada,
and pledged to a war of aggression and conquest, while the Atlantic
borders were left exposed to the ravages of the enemy. Napoleon
had been conquered by the frosts of Eussia, and was an exile on tha
shores of Elba. England had redoubled her energies and made the
war a vindictive punishment of the people for the sins of their gov
ernment — rapine, brutality, and murder followed in the train of her
armies, and their approach was more to be dreaded by the helpless,
and the innocent, than the invasion of the traitorous Arnold. In
this state of affairs Massachusetts again interposed ; but times had
changed ; the country was involved in war, and whether right or
wrong, she required all good citizens to help to bring it to a success
ful end. New England at this crisis was charged — at least Massa
chusetts, Ehode Island, and Connecticut were charged — ^with the de
sign of seeking a separate peace with Great Britain, and placing
themselves in a position of neutrality during the further progress of
the war, if indeed they did not cherish the ulterior purpose of a
complete and final separation from the other States of the Union.
Whether this accusation be true or not, forms no part of our in
quiry. We would fain hope — indeed we have good reason to believe
that it was untrue — and that it formed a part of those party tactics
which are too often resorted to to bring odium on political opponents,
by misrepresenting their designs and their motives. The accusation,
however, was raade at the time by the minority of the Massachusetts
Legislature that opposed the election of delegates to the Hartford
Convention. At this dark and melancholy period, when a vindictive foreign
war was ravaging our coasts, and disrupture and civil war were
threatened within, Mr. Eandolph was called upon to interpose his
good offices in behalf of his country. He was told that his voice
would be heard in New England, and that his admonitions would

NEW ENGLAND. 51
receive their just consideration. He did not hesitate to give them —
in the midst of pain, disease, domestic affliction, and raental suffering,
he addressed to the people of New England, through one of her dis
tinguished Senators, the following letter. Let it be read with atten
tion ; it does honor to the head and to the heart of the raan that
penned it. The reader cannot fail to be animated by the patriotism
that glowed in his bosom, and to be cheered by the high appreciation
he placed on the value of the Union, not as an end to be maintained
at all hazards, but as a means to secure the peace and the happiness
of the whole country. Let it not be said, after a perusal of this let
ter, that Mr. Eandolph entertained unfounded and unreasonable pre
judices against the people of New England. He cherished no such
feelings. When New England becarae the advocate of a system of
protection that proved to be as ruinous to the interests of his people
as the embargo had been to them, he did not complain and declare
in his peculiar and emphatic way, that nothing manufactured north
of Mason and Dixon's line should ever enter into his house ; but he
never ceased to cherish towards the people of New England the pro
foundest sentiments of respect and regard. Philadelphia, Dec. 15, 1814.
Dear Sir, — You will doubtless be surprised, but (I trust) not
offended at the receipt of this letter. Of the motives which dictate
it I shall forbear to speak : lot them be gathered from its context.
But should you ascribe my selection of you as the object of its ad
dress to any' other cause than respect for your character and confi
dence in your love of country, you will have done much injustice to
me ; but more to yourself
At Washington, I learned the result of the dispatches brought
by the John Adams (a name of evil omen), and therte rflmors were
afloat, which have since gathered strength, of a disposition in Massa
chusetts, and indeed throughout New England, to follow the example
of Nantucket, and declare for a neutrality in the present contest
with Great Britain. I will not believe it. What ! Boston, the cra
dle of American independence, to whose aid Virginia stept forth un
solicited, when the whole vengeance of the British ministry was
wreaked on that devoted town. Boston ! now to desert us, in our
utmost need, to give up her old ally to ravage, at the price of her
own impunity frora the common enemy ? — I cannot, will not believe
it. The men, if any such there be among you, who venture to insin
uate such an intent by the darkest inuendo, do they claira to be the
disciples of Washington ? They are of the school of Arnold. I

52 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
am not insensible to the vexations and oppressions, with which you
have been harassed, with little intermission, since the memorable
embargo of 1807. These I am disposed, as you w;ell know, neither
to excuse, nor to extenuate. Perhaps I may be reminded of an au
thority, to which I alfrays delight to refer, " Segnius irritant animos,
SfC," but let me tell such gentlemen, that our sufferings under politi
cal quacks of our own calling in, are not matter of hearsay. It is
true they are considered by the unhappy, misguided patient, as evi
dence of the potency and consequently (according to his systera of
logic) of the efficacy of the medicine, as well as the inveteracy of the
disease. It is not less true that this last has become, from prepos
terous treatment, in the highest degree alarming. The patient him
self begins to suspect something of the sort, and the doctors trem
bling, each for his own character, are quarrelling and calling hard
names among themselves. But they have reduced us to such a con
dition, that nothing short of the knife will now do. " We must
fi.glit, Mr. Speaker !" said Patrick Henry in 1775, when his sagacious
mind saw there was nothing else left for us but manly resistance or
slavish submission ; and his tongue dared to utter what his heart
suggested. How much greater the necessity now, when our country
is regarded not as a property to be recovered, and therefore spared,
so far as is compatible with the end in view ; but as an object of
vengeance, of desolation.
You know my sentiments of the men at the head of our affairs,
and of the general course of administration during the last eight
years. You know also that the relation, in which I stand towards
them, is one of my own deliberate choice ; sanctioned not raore by
my judgment than by my feelings. You, who have seen raen (in the
ranks, when I commanded in chief in the House of Eepresentatives,
and others, at that time too green to be on the political muster roll
— whose names had never been pronounced out of their own parish)
raised to the highest offices ; you who are thoroughly acquainted with
the whole progress of my separation from the party with which I
was once connected in conduct, do not require to be told, that " there
was a time in which I stood in such favor in the closet, that there
must have been something extravagantly unreasonable in my wishes,
if they might not all have been gratified." But I must acknow
ledge that you have seen instances of apostasy among your quondam
political associates, as well as my own, that might almost justify a
suspicion, that I too, tired of holding out, may wish to make my
peace with the administration, by adding one raore item " to the long
catalogue of venality from Esau to the present day." Should such
a shade of suspicion pass across your mind, I can readily excuse it,
in consideration of the common frailty of our nature, from -which I
claim no peculiar exemption, and the transcendent wickedness of the

NEW ENGLAND. 53
times we live in ; but you will have given me credit for a talent
which I do not possess. I am master of no such ambidexterity ;
and were I to attempt this game, which it is only for adepts (not
novices) to play ! I am thoroughly conscious, that like other bung
ling rogues, I should at once expose ray knavery and miss my object
— not that our political church refuses to open her arms to the vilest
of heretics and sinners who can seal their abjuration of their old
faith by the prosecution of the brethren with whora they held and
professed it : but I know that ray nerves are of too weak a fibre to
hear the question ordinary and extraordinary from our political in
quisitors. I can sustain with composure and even with indifference
the rancorous hatred of the numerous enemies, whom it has been my
lot to make in the course of my unprosperous life — but I have not
yet steeled myself to endure the contemptuous pity of those noble
and high-minded men, whom I glory to call my friends, and I am on
too bad terms with the world, to encounter my own self-disrespect.
You may however very naturally ask, why I have chosen you for
the object of this address ? Why I have not rather selected sorae
one of those political friends, whom I have yet found " faithful among
the faithless," as the vehicle of ray opinions ? It is because the ave
nue to the public ear is shut against me in Virginia, and I have been
flattered to believe that the sound of my voice raay reach New Eng
land. Nay, that it would be heard there, not without attention and
respect. With us the press is under a -virtual imprimatur, and if
Would be more easy, at this time, to force into circulation the treasu
ry notes, than opinions militating against the administration, through
the press in Virginia. We were indeed beginning to open our eyes
in spite of the opiate with which we were drugged by the newspa
pers, and the busy hum of the insects that bask in the sunshine of
court patronage, when certain events occurred, the most favorable
that could have happened for our rulers ; whose " luck," verifying
the proverb, is in the inverse ratio of their wisdom ; or, perhaps I
ought to say, who have the cunning to take advantage of glaring acts
of indiscretion, in their adversaries at home and abroad, as these
may affect the public mind ; and such have never failed to come to
their relief, when otherwise their case would have been hopeless. I
give you the most serious assurance, that nothing less than the
shameful conduct of the enemy and the complexion of certain occur
rences to the eastward could have sustained Mr. Madison after the
disgraceful affair . at Washington. The public indignation would
have overwhelmed, in one common ruin, himself and his hireling
newspapers. The artillery of the press, so long the instrument of
our subjugation, would, as at Paris, have been turned against the de
stroyer of his country : when we are told that old England says he
" shall," and New England that he " must," retire from office, as the

54 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
price of peace with the one, and of union with the other, we have
too much English blood in our veins to submit to this dictation, or to
any thing in the form of a threat. Neither of these people know
any thing of us. The ignorance of her foreign agents, not only of
the country to which they are sent, but even of their own, has ex
posed England to general derision. She will learn, when it is too
late, that we are a high-minded people, attached to our liberty and
our country, because it is free, in a degree inferior to no people un
der the sun. She will discover that " our trade would have been
worth more than our spoil," and that she has made deadly enemies
of a whole people, who, in spite of her and of the world, of the sneers
of her sophists, or of the force of her arms, are destined to become,
within the present session, a mighty nation. It be-ongs to New
England to say, whether she will constitute a portion, an important
and highly respectable portion of this nation, or whether she will
dwindle into tljat state of insignificant, nominal independence, which
is the precarious curse of the minor kingdoms of Europe, A sepa
ration made in the fulness of time, the effect of amicable arrange
ments, may prove mutually beneficial to both parties : such would
have been the effect of American independence, if the British min
istry could have listened to any suggestion but that of their own im
potent rage : but a settled hostility embittered by the keenest recol
lections, must be the result of a disunion between you and us, under
the present circumstances. I have soraetimes wished that Mr. Madi
son (who endeavored to thwart the wise and benevolent policy of
General Washington " to regard the English like other nations, as
enemies in war, in peace friends,") had succeeded in embroiling us
with the Court of St. James, twenty years sooner. We should in
that case, have had the father of his country to conduct the war and
to make the peace ; and that peace would have endured beyond the life
time of the authors of their country's calamity and disgrace. But I
must leave past recollections. The present and the immediate future
claim our attention.
It may be said, that in tirae of peace, the people of every portion
of our confederacy find themselves too happy to think of division ;
that the sufferings of a war, like this, are requisite, to rouse them to
the necessary exertion : war is incident to all governments ; and
wars I very much fear will be wickedly declared, and weakly waged,
even- by the New England confederacy, as they have been by every
government (not even excepting the Eoman republic), of which we
have any knowledge ; and it does appear to me no slight presump
tion that the evil has not yet reached the point of araputation, when
peace alone will render us the happiest (as we are the freest) people
under the sun ; at least too happy to think of dissolving the Union,
which, as it carried us through the war of our revolution, will, I

NEW ENGLAND. 55
trust, bear us triumphant through that in which we have been
plunged, by the incapacity and corruption of men, neither willing to
maintain the relations of peace, nor able to conduct the operations of
war. Should I, unhappily, be mistaken in this expectation, let us see
what are to be the consequences of the separation, not to us, but to
yourselves. An exclusion of your tonnage and manufactures from
our porta and harbors. It will be our policy to encourage our own,
or even those of Europe in preference to yours ; p. policy more ob
vious than that which induced us of the South, to consent to dis
criminating duties in favor of American tonnage, in the infancy of
this government. It is unnecessary to say, to you, that I embrace
the duties on importg, as well as the tonnage duty, when I allude to
the encouragement of American shipping. It will always be our
policy to prevent your obtaining a naval superiority, and conse
quently to cut you off entirely from our carrying trade. The same
plain interest will cause us to prefer any manufactures to your own.
The intercourse with the rest of the world, that exchanges our sur
plus for theirs, will be the nursery of our seamen. In the middle
States you will find rivals, not very heartily indisposed to shut out
the competition of your shipping. In the same section of country
and in the boundless West, you will find jealous competitors of your
mechanics — ^you will be left to settle, as you can, with England, the
question of boundary on the side of New Brunswick, and unless ydu
can bring New- York to a state of utter blindness, as to her own in
terests, that great, thriving, and most populous member of the south
ern confederacy will present a hostile frontier to the only States of
the union of Hartford, that can be estimated as of any efficiency.
Should that respectable city be chosen as the seat of the Eastern
Congress, that body will sit within two days' march of the most pop
ulous county of New- York (Duchess), of itself almost equal to sorae
of the New England States. I speak not in derision, but in sober
ness and sadness of heart. Eather let me say, that like a thorough
bred diplomatist, I try to suppress every thing like feeling, and treat
this question as a dry matter of calculation ; well knowing, at the
same time, that in this, as in every question of vital interest, " our
passions instru(3t our reason." The same high authority has told us
that jacobinism is of no country, that it is a sect found in all. Now,
as our jacobins .in Virginia would be very glad to hear of the bom
bardment of Boston, so, I very much fear, your jacobins would not
be very sorry to hear of a servile insurrection in Virginia. But such
I trust is the general feeling in neither country, otherwise I should
at once agree that union, like the marriages of Mezentius, was the
worst that could befall us. For, with every other man of common
sense, I have always regarded union as the means of liberty and
safety; in other words of happiness, and not as an end, to which

56 LIKE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
these are to be sacrificed. Neither, at the same time, are means so
precious, so efficient (in proper hands) of these desirable objects, to
be thrown, rashly aside, because, in the hands of bad raen, they have
been made the instrument almost of our undoing.
You in New England (it is unnecessary I hope to specify when I
do not address myself personally to yourself) are very wide of the
raark, if you suppose we to the south do not suffer at least as rauch
as yourselves, from the incapacity of our rulers to conduct the de
fence of the country. Do you ask why we do not change those ru
lers ? I reply, because we are a people, like your own Connecticut,
of steady habits. Our confidence once given is not hastily with
drawn. Let those who will, abuse the fickleness of the people ; I
shall say such is not the character of the people of Virginia. They
may be deceived, but they are honest. Taking advantage of their
honest prejudices, the growth of our revolution, fostered not raore
by Mr. Jefferson than by the injuries and (what is harder to be
borne) the insults of the British ministry since the peace of 1783, a
corabination of artful men, has, with the aid of the press, and the
possession of the machinery of government (a powerful engine in any
.hands) led them to the brink of ruin, vl can never bring myself to
believe, that the whole mass of the landed proprietors in any coun
try, but especially such a country as Virginia, can seriously plot its
ruin. Our government is in the hands of the landed proprietors
only. The very men of whom you complain, have left nothing un
done that tliey dared to do, in order to destroy it. Foreign influence
is unknown among us. What we feel of it is through the medium of
the General Governraent, which acted on, itself, by foreign renega-
does, serves as a conductor, between them and us, of this pernicious
influence. I know of no foreigner who has been, or is, in any re
spectable office in the gift of the people, or in the governraent of
Virginia. No member of either House of Congress, no leading
meraber of our Asserably, no judge of our Suprerae Courts : of the
newspapers printed in the State, as- far as my knowledge extends,
without discrimination of party, they are conducted by native Vir
ginians. Like yourselves, we are an unmixed people. I know the
prejudice that exists against us, nor do I wonder at it, considering
the gross ignorance on the subject that prevails north of Maryland,
and even in many parts of that neighboring State.
What member of the confederacy has sacrificed more on the altar
of public good than Virginia ? Whence did the General Govern
ment derive its lands beyond the Ohio, then and now almost the only
source of revenue? From our grant, — a grant so curiously worded,
and by our present Palinurus too, as to except ourselves, by its lim
itations, from the common benefit.
By its conditions it was forbidden ground to us, and thereby the

NEW ENGLAND. 57
foundati n was laid of incurable animosity and division between the
States on each side of that great natural boundary, the river Ohio.
Not only their masters, but the very slaves themselves, for whose
benefit this regulation was made, were sacrificed by it. Dispersion is
to thera a bettering of their present condition, and of their chance
for emancipation. It is only when this can be done without danger
and without ruinous individual loss that it will be done at all. But
what is common sense to a political Quixote ?
That country was ours by a double title, by charter and by "on-
quest. George Eogers Clark, the American Hannibal, at the head
of the State troops, by the reduction of Post Vincennes, obtained
the lakes for our northern boundary at the peace of Paris. The
march of that great man and his brave companions in arms across
the dl owned lands of the Wabash, does not shrink from a compari
son with the passage of the Thrasimene marsh. Without meaning
any thing like an invidious distinction, I ha-ve not heard of any ces
sion from Massachusetts of her vast wilds ; and Connecticut has had
the address, out of our grant to the firm,, to obtain, on her own pri
vate account, some millions of acres : whilst we, yes we, I blush to
say it, have descended to beg for a pittance, out of the property once
our own, for the brave men by whose valor it had been won, and
whom heedless profusion had disabled us to recompense. We met
the just fate of the prodigal. We were spurned from the door,
where once we were master, with derision and scorn ; and yet we
hear of undue Virginian influence. This fund yielded the Gov
ernment, when I had connection with it, from half a million to eight
hundred thousand dollars, annually. It would have preserved us
from the imposition of State taxes, founded schools, built bridges
and made roads and canals throughout Virginia. It was squandered
away in a single donative at the instance of Mr. Madison. For the
sake of concord with our neighbors, by the same generous but mis
guided policy, we ceded to Pennsylvania Fort Pitt, a most important
commercial and railitary position, and a vast domain around it, as
much Virginia as the city of Eichmond and the county of Henrico.
To Kentucky, the eldest daughter of the Union, the Virginia of the
west, we have yielded on a question of boundary, from a similar con
sideration. Actuated by the same magnanimous spirit at the in
stance of other States (with the exception of New-York, North Ca
rolina, and Ehode Island), we accepted, in 1783, the present Consti
tution. It was repugnant to our judgment, and fraught, as we feared,
with danger to our liberties. The awful voice of our ablest and
soundest statesmen, of Patrick Henry, and of George Mason, never
before or since disregarded, warned us of the consequences. Neither
was their counsel entirely unheeded, for it led to important subse
quent amendments of that instrument. I have always believed thia

58 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
disinterested spirit, so often manifested by us, to be one of the chief
causes of the influence which we have exercised over the other States.
Eight States having made that Constitution their own, we submitted
to the yoke for the sake of union. Our attachment to the Union is
not an empty profession. It is demonstrated by our practice at home.
No sooner was the Convention of 1788 dissolved, than the feuds of
federalism and anti-federalism disappeared. I speak of their effects
on our councils. For the sake of union, we submitted to the low
est state of degradation ; the administration of John Adams. The
name of this man calls up contempt and derision, wheresoever it is
pronounced. To the fantastic vanity of this political Malvolio may
be distinctly traced our present unhappy condition. I will not be so
ungenerous as to remind you that this personage (of whom and his
addresses, and his answers, I defy you to think without a bitter
smile) was not a Virginian, but I must in justice to ourselves, insist
in making him a set-off against Mr. Madison. They are of such equal
weight, that the trembling balance reminds us of that passage of
Pope, where Jove " weighs the beau's wits agains the lady's hair.
" The doubtful beam long nods from side to side,
At length the wits mount up, the hairs subside.'.'
Intoxicated not more by the fulsome adulation with which he was
plied, than by the fumes of his own vanity, this poor old gentle
man saw a visionary coronet suspended over his brow, and an air-
drawn sceptre " the handle towards his hand," which attempting to
clutch, he lost his balance, and disappeared never to rise again. He
it was, who " enacting" Nat. Lee's Alexander, raved about the peo
ple of Virginia as " a faction to be humbled in dust and ashes,"
when the sackcloth already was prepared for his own back.
But I am spinning out this letter to too great a length. What is
your object — Peace? Can this be attained on any terms, whilst
England sees a prospect of disuniting that confederacy, which has
already given so deep a blow to her maritime pride, and threatens at
no very distant day to dispute with her the empire of the ocean ?
The wound which our gallant tars have inflicted on her tenderest
point, has maddened her to rage. Cursed as we are with a weak and
wicked administration, she can no longer despise us. Already she
begins to hate us ; and she seeks to glut a revenge as impotent as it
is rancorous, by inroads that would have disgraced the buccaneers,
and bulletins that would only not disgrace the sovereign of Elba.
She already is compelled to confess in her heart, what her lips deny,
that if English bull-dogs and garae-cocks degenerate on our soil, Eng
lish men do not : — and should (which God forbid) our brethren of the
East desert us in this contest for all that is precious to man, we will
maintain it, so long as our proud and insulting foe shall refuse to ac
cede to equitable terms of peace. The Government will then pass

NEW ENGLAND. 59
into proper hands — the talents of the country will be called forth, and
the schemes of moon-struck philosophers and their disciples pass away
and " leave not a rack behind."
You know how steady and persevering I endeavored, for eight
years,' to counteract the artful and insidious plans of our rulers to
embroil us with the country of our ancestors, and the odium which I
have thereby drawn upon myself Believing it to be my duty t«
soften, as much as possible, the a,sperities which subsisted between th«
two countries, and which were leading to a ruinous war, I put to ha
sard, nay, exposed to almost certain destruction, an influence such as
no man, perhaps, in this country, at the sam-c age, had ever before at
tained. (The popularity that dreads exposure is too delicate for pub
lic service. It is a bastard species : the true sort will stand the hard
est frosts. Is it my fault (as Mr. Burke complained of the crowned
heads of Europe) that England will no longer suffer me to find pal
liatives for her conduct ? No raan admired more than I did her
magnanimous stand against the tyrant, before whom all the rest ot
Christendom at one time bowed : No man, not even her own Wilber
force and Perceval, put up more sincere prayers for her deliverance.
In the remotest isle of Australasia, ray sympathy would have been
enlisted, in such a contest, for the descendants of Alfred and Bacon,
and Shakspeare, and Milton, and Locke, on whom I love to look
back as my illustrious countrymen — in any contest I should have
taken side with liberty ; but on this depended (as I believed and do
still believe) all that made my own country dear in my sight. It is
past — and unmindful of the mercy of that protecting Providence
which has carried her through the valley of the shadow of death,
England " feels power and forgets right." I am not one of the whin
ing set of people who cry out against mine adversary for the force ol
his blow. England has, unquestionably, as good a right to conquer
us, as we have to conquer Canada ; the same right that we have to
conquer England, and with about as good prospect of success. But
let not her orators declaim against the enormity of French prin
ciples, when she permits herself to arm and discipline our slaves, and
to lead them into the field against their masters, in the hope of excit
ing by the example a general insurrection, and thus render Virginia
another St. Domingo. And does she talk of jacobinism ! What is
this but jacobinism ? and of the vilest stamp ? Is this the country
that has abolished the slave trade ? that has made that infamous, in
human traffic a felony ? that feeds with the bread of life all who hun
ger after it, and even those who, but for her, would never have known
their perishing condition ? Drunk with the cup of the abominations
of Moloch, they have been roused from the sleep of death, like some
benighted traveller perishing in the snows, and warmed into life by
the beams of the only true religion. Is this the country of Wilber

60 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
force and Howard ? It is ; — but, like my own, my native land, it
has fallen into the hands of evil men, who pour out its treasure and
its blood at the shrine of their own guilty ambition. And this im
pious sacrifice they celebrate amidst the applauses of the deluded
people, and even of the victims themselves.
There is a proneness in mankind to throw the blame of their
sufferings on any one but themselves. In this manner, Virginia is
regarded by some of her sister States ; not adverting to the fact, that
all (Connecticut and Delaware excepted) are responsible for the
measures that have involved us in our present difficulties. Did we
partition your State into those unequal and monstrous districts which
have given birth to a new word in your language, of uncouth sound,
calling up the most odious associations. Did we elect the jacobins
whom you sent to both Houses of Congress — the Bidwells, and Gan-
netts, and Skinners, — to spur on the more moderate men from Vir
ginia to excesses which they reluctantly gave into at the time, acd
have since been ashamed of ? Who hurried the bill suspending the
privilege of the writ of habeas corpus through a trembling servile
Senate, in consequence, as he did not blush to state, of a vcrbcJ com
munication from the President? A Senator from Massachusetts,
and professor in her venerable university. In short, have not your
first statesmen (such I believe was the reputation of the gentleman in
question at the time), your richest merchants, and the majority of
your delegation in Congress vied in support of the men and the mea
sures that have led to our present suffering and humiliated condition ?
If you wished to separate yourselves from us, you had ample pro
vocation in time of peace, in an embargo the most unconstitutional
and oppressive ; an engine of tyranny, fraud, and favoritism. Then
was the time to resist (we did not desert England in a tirae of war)y
but you were then under the dominion of a faction among yourselves,
yet a formidable minority, exhibiting no signs of diminution ; and it
is not the least of my apprehensions, from certain proceedings to the
eastward, that they may be made the means of consigning you again,
and for ever, to the same low, insolent domination. The reaction of
your jacobins upon us (for although we have some in Virginia, they
are few and insignificant) through the men at Washington, (" who
must conciliate good republicans,") is dreadful. Pause, I beseech
you, pause ! You tread on the brink of destruction. Of all the At
lantic States you have the least cause to complain. Your manufac
tures, and the trade which the enemy has allowed you, have drained
us of our last dollar. How then can we carry on the war ? With
men and steel — stout hearts, and willing hands — and these frora the
days of Darius and Xerxes, in defence of the household gods of free
dom, have proved a match for gold. Can they not now encounter
paper ? We shall suffer much from this contest, it will cut deep ;

NEW ENGLAND. 61
but dismissing its authors from our confidence and councils for ever,
(I speak of a few leaders and their immediate tools, not of the delud
ed, as well in as out of authority,) we shall pass, if it be the good
pleasure of Him whose curses are tempered with mercies, through an
agony and a bloody sweat, to peace and salvation ; to that peaee
whicll is only to be found in a reconciliation with Him. " Atheists
and madmen have been our lawgivers," and when I think on our past
conduct I shudder at the chastisement that may await us. How has
not Europe suffered for her sins ! Will England not consider, that.
like the man who but yesterday bestrode the narrow world, she is
but an instrument in his hands, who breaketh the weapons of his
chastisement, when the measure of his people's punishment is full ?
When I exhort to further patience — to resort to constitutic nal
means of redress only, I know that there is such a thing as tyianny
as well as oppression ; and that there is no government, however re
stricted in its power, that may not, by abuse, under pretext of exer
cise of its constitutional authority, drive its unhappy subjects to des
peration. Our situation is indeed awful. The members of the Union
in juxtaposition — held together by no common authority to which
men can look up with confidence and respect. Smitten by the charms
of Upper Canada, our President has abandoned the several States to
shift for themselves as they can. — Congress is felo de se. In practice
there is found little difference between a government of requisitions
on the States, which these disregard, or a governraent of requisitions
on the people, which the governors are afraid to raake until the pub
lic faith is irretrievably ruined. Congress seemed barred by their
own favorite act of limitations, frora raising supplies ; prescription
runs against them. But let us not despair of the commonwealth.
Some master-spirit may be kindled by the collision of the times, who
will breathe his own soul into the councils and armies of the repub
lic ; and here indeed is our chiefest danger. The man who is credu
lous enough to believe that a constitution, with the skeleton of an es
tablishment of 10,000 men, not 2,000 strong, (such was our army
three years ago,) is the same as with an army of 60,000 men, raay be
a very amiable neighbor, but is utterly unfit for a statesman. Al
ready our government is in fact changed. We are become a mili
tary people, of whom more than of any other it might have been said
fortunatos sua si bona norint. If under such circumstances you ask
me what you are to do, should a conscription of the model of Bona
parte be attempted ? I will refer you to its reputed projector. Co
lonel Monroe. Ask him what he would have done, whilst governor
of Virginia, and preparing to resist Federal usurpation, had such an
attempt been made by Mr. Adams and his ministers ; especially in
1 800, He can give the answer.
But when you complain of the representation of three-fifths of

62 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
our slaves, I reply that it is one of the articles of that compact,
which you submitted to us for acceptance, and to which we reluc
tantly acceded. Our Constitution is an affair of compromise between
the States, and this is the master-key which unlocks^ all its_ difficul
ties. If any of the parties to the compact are dissatisfied with their
share of influence, it is an affair of amicable discussion, in the mode
pointed out by the constitution itself, but no cause for dissolving *he
confederacy. And when I read and hear the vile stuff against my
country printed and uttered tn this subject, by fire-brands, who
ought to be quenchad for ever, I would remind, not these editors
of journals and declaimers at clubs, but their deluded followers,
that every word of these libels on the planters of Virginia, is as ap
plicable to the father of his country as to any one among us ; that in
the same sense we are "slaveholders," and "negro drivers," and
" dealers in human flesh," (I must be pardoned for culling a few
of their rhetorical flowers,) so was he, and whilst they upbraid Vir
ginia with her Jeffersons and her Madisons, they will not always re
member to forget that to Virginia they were indebted for a Wash
ington, I am, with the highest respect and regard, dear sir, your obe
dient servant,
John Eandolph of Eoanoke.

CHAPTEE V.
RELIGION.
The reader is already aware, from raany expressions let fall from the
pen of Mr. Eandolph, that he is deeply engaged in the great subject
of religion ; his necessary duties give way, and are postponed to this
all-engrossing question.
In childhood and early youth, he was trained by a devoted and
pious mother, in the doctrines and the practices of the Christian
church. The impressions of those early lessons, though a long time
disregarded, were never entirely effaced from his memory ; and the
hallowed associations that clustered around the name of his adored
and sainted mother, the fond remembrances of childhood and inno
cence, never failed to awaken the deepest emotions in his affectionate
and sympathetic heart. Yet he lived for many years in open derision

RELIGION. 63
and mockery of that religion whose holy and divine precepts he could
not efface from his mind. Coming into life at an epoch when French
philosophy had not only overturned the monarchies of Europe, but
had undermined and destroyed the foundation of all morals and reli
gion, his ardent soul, like thousands of the best spirits of the age,
caught the contagion of its influence, threw off all religious restraint,
as the highest proof of freedora, and became, if not a mocker, at
least a cold despiser of the religion ot humility and self-sacriflce.
But the despotisra under which France had been raade to groan, in
consequence of her atheistic madness ; the desolation that had swept
over Europe ; the deep calamities brought on his own country by war
and restrictions ; the many misfortunes and afflictions that in thick
succession had befallen himself and his ill-fated family ; his entirs
separation from all political associations and party excitements, and
the profound solitude, for the most part, in which he lived, all con
spired to bring back his mind to its early associations. As " the
stricken deer," to which he likened hiraself, faint, and panting in the
hot chase, seeks the fresh fountains and cooling shades of its native
valley, so he, faint and heart-stricken at the desolations of an irre
ligious age, and athirst for the pure waters of life, sought consolation
in that religion which his mother, on bended knee, with his little
hands in hers uplifted to heaven, had taught him in his infancy.
He read the Old and New Testament, with the aid of good com
mentators, with care and diligence. The best authors were at his
command — " old standard authors" constituted his daily food, though
sometimes, in huraility, he would complain that they were " too solid
for his weak stomach." It is a great raistake to take Mr. Eandolph
at his word, and suppose him to be an ignorant man. " I am an ig
norant man, I am an ignorant man," is the mortifying yet too deeply
conscious sentiment of every man of an all-grasping genius like his ;
but no man was more thoroughly imbued than he with the rich lore
of old English learning, or more deeply penetrated with the manly
and martyr-like spirit of that religion which triumphed over the fag
got and the dungeon. Being a man of the highest order of poetic
genius himself, he sought only the society of kindred spirits. Milton
and Cowper, and the old English divines, now obsolete and forgotten,
were his daily and nightly companions. He was also most fortunate
in his living associates. No man had better or more faithful friends.

64 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
His country or age can furnish no nobler specimens of a high Chris
tian virtue than the three friends with whom Mr. Eandolph alone
conversed on " free-will, fate and philosophy," and to whose opinions
he bowed with the profoundest respect and reverence. The first to
whom we allude is the present Bishop Meade, of Virginia, a gentle
man, a scholar, and a Christian. The reader is already aware of the
high regard Mr. Eandolph had for that pious and venerable man.
The second person was the late Dr. Moses Hogue, president of
Hampden Sydney College. Mr. Eandolph, for many years, lived
in the immediate neighborhood of the college ; and the society df
its venerable head, the chief ornament of the institution, was
always sought by him with avidity. " I consider Dr. Hogue," says
he, '' as the ablest and most interesting speaker that I ever heard,
in the pulpit or out of it : and the most perfect pattern of a Christian
teacher that I ever saw. His life affords an example of the great
truths of the doctrine that he dispenses to his flock ; and if he has a
fault (which, being mortal, I suppose he cannot be free from) I have
never heard it pointed out." Nothing can be added to this picture.
Francis Scott Key, Esq., late of Washington City, is the other per
son to whom we have made allusion. The reader has already per
ceived the great intimacy existing between these two friends. They
were kindred .spirits. " Frank Key," though an eminent and suc
cessful advocate, was a poet of a high order of genius. " The Star-
spangled Banner,'' written while he was detained on board the -Brit
ish fleet, an anxious spectator of the bombardment of Fort M'Henry
and the assault on Baltimore, thrills the heart of every American
who hears its patriotic strains, and has become one of our most popu
lar national songs. He was a pure spirit ; the friend that knew him
best and valued him most, thus speaks of him : " He perseveres in
pressing on toward the goal, and his whole life is spent in endeavors
to do good for his unhappy fellow-raen. The result is that he enjoys
a tranquillity of mind, a sunshine of the soul, that all the Alexanders
of 'the earth can neither confer nor take away."
Dr. Brockenbrough had hitherto, for the most part, been in the
same category with himself, somewhat skeptical ; hence, in their re
lations, Eandolph rather assumed the province of a teacher than
scholar, on the subject of morals and religion. Writing to that gen
tleman from Buckingham Court House, the 29th May, 1815, he says :

RELIGION. 65
" I got here to-day. To-morrow we are to begin our inquisition.
[A contested election.] This business does not suit me at all. My
thoughts are running in a far different channel. I never feel so free
from uneasiness as when I am reading the Testament, or hearing
some able preacher. This great concern presses me by day and by
night, almost to the engrossing of my thoughts. It is first in my
mind when I wake, and the last when I go to sleep. I think it be
comes daily more clear to me. All other things are as nothing when
put in comparison with it. You have had a great comfort in the
presence of Mr. Meade. I, too, am not without some consolation ;
for I have received a letter from Frank Key, that I would not ex
change for the largest bundle of bank notes that you ever signed.
Hear him. ' I cannot describe to you the gratification your letter
has given rae. The sentiments they express, I thank God I am no
stranger to ; and they have been made to lead me, through much
anxiety and distress, to a state of peace and happiness — as far above
what I have deserved, as below what I yet hope, even in this life, to
attain. May you soon, my friend, experience the most delightful
of all sensations, that springs from a well grounded hope of recon
ciliation with God ! You are in the right track. [God grant it
may be so !] God is leading you. Your sentiments show the divinity
that stirs within you. That we have ruined ourselves — that an ever
lasting life is before us — that we are about (how soon we know
not) to enter upon it, under the sentence of Almighty condemnation
— and that we can do nothing to save ourselves from this misery ;
these convictions are the genuine work of the Spirit ; other founda
tion can no man lay ! They lead us to a Saviour who gives us all we
want — ^pardon, peace, and holiness. They do not bid us first to be
come righteous, and then come to him ; but they bring us to him as
we are — as sinners to be pardoned for our sins, and cleansed frora
all, our iniquities. This is the true doctrine of our Church, and the
plain raeaning of the Gospel ; and indeed it seems to me, notwith
standing some peculiarities (about which there has been much
useless disputation), that in these essential points almost all sects
agree.' "
Writing to Mr. Key himself, from the same place, two days after
the above, he says :
" I cannot refrain from unburthening some of ray thoughts to you.
I carry your last letter (of the llth) constantly in my pocket, read
ing it frequently, and praying God that your charitable anticipations
respecting me may be realized. After all, is there not selfishness at
the bottora of that yearning of my heart to believe ? Can that faith.
Betting aside its imperfection, be acceptable in the sight of God, to

66 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
which the unhappy sinner is first moved by the sense of self-preser
vation ?
" I am brought on here by this contested election ; but my mind
is not at all in the thing.
" Indeed I must tell you what gives me great uneasiness ; that,
instead of being stimulated to the discharge of my duties, 'I am daily
becoming more indifferent to thera, and, consequently, more negli
gent. I see many whose minds are apparently little occupied on the
subject that employs me, with whom I think I should be glad to ex
change conditions ; for surely, when they discharge conscientiously
their part in life, without the same high motive that X feel, how cul
pable am I, being negligent ! For a long time the thoughts that now
occupy mc, came and went out of my mind. Sometimes they were
banished by business ; at others, by pleasure. But heavy afflic
tions fell upon me. They came more frequently, and staid longer —
pressing upon me, until, at last, I never went asleep nor awoke but
they were last and first in my recollection. Oftentimes have they
awakened me, until, at length, I cannot; if I would, detach myself from
them. Mixing in the business of the world I find highly injurious
to me. I cannot repress the feelings which the conduct of our fel
low-men too often excites ; yet I hate nobody, and I have endeavored
to forgive all who have done me an injury, as I have asked forgiveness
of those whom I may have wronged, in thought or deed. If I could
have my way, I would retire to some retreat, far from the strife of the
world, and pass the remnant of my days in meditation and prayer ;
and yet this would be a life of ignoble security. But, my good friend,
I ara not qualified (as yet, at least,) to bear the heat of the battle.
I seek for rest — for peace. I ha^ve read much of the New Testament
lately. Sorae of the texts are full of consolation ; others inspire
dread. The Epistles of Paul I cannot, for the most part, compre
hend ; with the assistance of Mr. Locke's paraphrase, I hope to ac
complish it. My good friend, you will bear with this egotism ; for
I seek from you instruction on a subject, in comparison with which
all others sink into insignificance. I have had a strong desire to go
to the Lord's Supper; but I was deterred by a sense of my un-
worthiness ; and, only yesterday, reading the denunciation against
those who received unworthily, I thought it would never be in my
power to present myself at the altar. I was present when Mr.
Hogue invited to the table, and I would have given all I was worth
to have been able to approach it. There is no minister of our church
in these parts. I therefore go to the Presbyterians, who are the most
learned and regular ; but having been born in the Church of Eng
land, I do not mean to renounce it. On the contrary, I feel a com
fort in repeating the Liturgy, that I would not be deprived of for
worlds. Is it not for the want of some such service that Sociniau

RELIGION. 67
ism has crept into the eastern congregations ? How could any So^
cinian repeat the Apostle's Creed, or read the Liturgy ? I begin to
think, with you, about those people. You remember the opinions
you expressed to me last winter concerning them. Among the causes
of uneasiness which have laid hold upon me lately, is a strong anxiety
for the welfare of those whom I love, and whom I see walking in
darkness. But there is one source of affliction, the last and deepest,
which I must reserve till we raeet, if I can prevail upon myself to
communicate it even then. It was laid open ly one of those wonder
ful coincidences, which men call chance, but which manife,'!t the hand
of God. It has lacerated my heart, and taken from it its last hope
in this world. Ought I not to bless God for the evil (as it seems in my
sight) as well as the good ? Is it not the greatest of blessings, if it be
made the means of drawing me unto him ? Do I know what to ask
at his hands ? Is he not the judge of what is good for me ? If it
be his pleasure that I perish, am I not conscious that the sentence ia
just? " Implicitly, then, will I throw myself uponhis mercy ; ' Not my
will, but thine be done ;' ' Lord be merciful to me a sinner ;' ' Help,
Lord, or I perish.' And now, my friend, if, after these glirapses of
the light, I should shut raine eyes and harden my heart, which now
is as melted wax ; if I should be enticed back to the ' herd,' and lose
all recollection of my wounds, how much deeper my guilt than his
whose heart has never been touched by the sense of his perishing, un
done condition. This has rushed upon my mind when I have thought
of partaking of the Lord's supper. After binding myself by that sa
cred rite, should passion overcome me, should I be induced to forget
in some unhappy hour that holy obligation, I shudder to think of it.
There are two ways only which I am of opinion that I may be ser
viceable to mankind. One of these is teaching children ; and I have
some thoughts of establishing a school. Then, again, it comes into
my head that I am borne away by a transient enthusiasm ; or that I
may be reduced to the condition of some unhappy fanatics who mis
take the perversion of their intellects for the conversion of their
hearts. Pray for me."
On another occasion, writing to Mr. Key, he says :
" I took up yesterday a work, which I never met with before, the
' Christian Observer.' In a critique of Scott, vol. XII., upon the
Bishop of Lincoln's ' Eefutation of Calvinism,' it is stated that no raan
is converted to the truth of Christianity without the self-experience of a
miracle. Such is the substance. He must be sensible of the working
of a miracle in his own person. Now, my good friend, I have never
experienced any thing like this. I have been sensible, and am
always, of the proneness to sin in my nature. I have grieved un-
feignedly for my manifold transgressions. I have thrown myself

68 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
upon the mercy of my Eedeemer, conscious of my own utter inar
bility to conceive one good thought, or do one good act without his
gracious aid. But I have felt nothing like what Scott requires.
Indeed, my good friend, I sometimes dread that I am in a far worse
condition than those who never heard the Word of God, or, who
having heard, reject it — if any condition can be worse than the last.
When I am with Mr. Hogue I am at ease. He makes every thing
plain to me. But when I hear others I am disturbed. Indeed, my
doubts aud misgivings do not desert me always in his presence. I
wish I could see you, and converse with you. To you I have no
scruple in writing in this style ; but to any other I feel repugnant
to communicate. I fear that I mistake a sense of my sins for true
repentance, and that I sometimes presume upon the mercy of God.
Again, it appears incredible that one so contrite as I sometimes
know myself to be, should be rejected entirely by infinite mercy.
Write to me upon this topic — not my own state — but give rae your
ideas -generally on salvation; or direct rae to sorae publication that
puts it in the clearest light. I have carefully read the gospels, but
cannot always cofeprehend."'
Writing to Dr. Brockenbrough, from Eoanoke, the 4th of July,
1815, he says:
" It was to me a subject of deep regret that I was obliged to
leave town before Mr. Meade's arrival. I promised rayself much
comfort and improvement from his conversation. My dear sir, there
is, or there is not, another and a better world. If there is, as we
all believe, what is it but madness to be absorbed in the cares of
a clay-built hovel, held at will, unmindful of the rich inheritance
of an imperishable palace, of which we are immortal heirs ? We ac
knowledge these things with our lips, but not with our hearts ; we
lack faith.
" We would serve God provided we may serve mammon at the
same time. For my part, oould I be brought to believe that this
life must be the end of my being, I should be disposed to get rid of
it as an incumbrance. If what is to come be any thing like what ia
passed, it would be wise to abandon the hulk to the underwriters, the
worms. I am more and more convinced that, with a few exceptions,
this world of ours is a vast raad-house. The only men I ever knew
well, ever approached closely, whom I did not discover to be unhappy,
are sincere believers of the Gospel, and conform their lives, as far as
the nature of man can permit, to its precepts. There are only thr&.
of them." [Meade, Hogue, Key?] "And yet, ambition, and ava
rice, and pleasure, as it is called, have their temples crowded with
votaries, whose own experience has proved to them the insufficiency
and emptiness of their pursuits, and who obstinately turn away from

RELIGION. Q^
the only waters that can slake their dying thirst and heal their dis
eases. " One word on the subject of your own state of mind. I ara well
acquainted with it — too well. Like you, I have not reached that
lively faith which some more favored persons enjoy* But I am per
suaded that it can and will be attained by all who are conscious of
the depravity of our nature, of their own manifold departures from the
laws of God, and sins against their own conscience ; and who are sin
cerely desirous to accept of pardon on the terms held out in the
Gospel. Without puzzling ourselves, therefore, with subtle disqui
sitions, let us ask, are we conscious of the necessity of pardon ? are
we willing to submit to the terms offered to us — to consider ' Chris
tianity as a scheme imperfectly understood, planned by Infinite
Wisdom, and canvassed by finite comprehensions' — to ask of our
Heavenly Father that faith and that strength which ly our own
unassisted efforts we can never attain ? To me it would be a stronger
objection to Christianity did it contain nothing which baffled my
comprehension, than its most difficult doctrines. What ^jofessor
ever delivered a lecture that his scholars were not at a loss to com
prehend some parts of it? But that is no objection to the doctrine.
But the teacher here is God! I may deceive myself, but I hope
that I have made some progress, so small indeed that I may be
ashamed of it, in this necessary work, even since I saw you. I am
no disciple of Calvin or Wesley, but I feel the necessity of a changed
nature ; of a new life ; of an altered heart. I feel my stubborn and
rebellious nature to be softened, and that it is essential to my com
fort here, as well as to my future welfare, to cultivate and cherish
feelings of good will towards all mankind ; to strive against envy,
malice, and all uncharitableness. I think I have succeeded in for
giving all my enemies. There is not a human being that I would
hurt if it were in my power ; not even Bonaparte."
Mr. Eandolph was now destined to receive the severest stroke of
misfortune that had befallen him since the death of his brother
Eichard. It seems that his ill-fated family were destined to fall one
by one, and to leave him the sole and forlorn wreck of an ancient
house, whose name and fortunes he had so fondly cherished. Tudor,
the last hope, had been sent abroad this spring (1815) in search of
health. He had scarcely reached Cheltenham, England, when he
fell into the arms of death. In a letter from Dr. Brockenbrough,
Mr. Eandolph received the first tidings of this melancholy event.
He was dumb — ^he opened not his mouth. " Your kind and conside
rate letter," says he, " contained the first intelligence of an event

70 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
which I have long expected, yet dreaded to hear. I can make nC
comment upon it. To attempt to describe the situation of my mind
would be vain, even if it were practicable. May God bless you : to
him alone I look for comfort on this side the grave ; there alone, if
at all, I shall find it."
Many said his mind was unsettled ; that this dark destiny drove
reason from her throne, and made hira mad. In the vulgar estima
tion of a cold and selfish world he was aurely mad. The cries of a
deep and earnest soul are a mockery to the vain and unfeeling multi
tude. David had many sons : Eandolph this only hope, the child of
his affections. Yet when Absalom was slain, " the king was much
moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate, and wept ; and as
he wept, thus he said, ' 0 my son Absalom — my son, my son Absa
lom 1 would God I had died for thee, 0 Absalom, my son, my son!'"

CHAPTEE VI,
POLITICAL REFLECTIONS — CONGRESS — BANK CHARTER.
In the midst of all his domestic afflictions, bodily ailments, and
mental anxiety, Mr. Eandolph never lost sight of public affairs,
¦' As to politics," says he, " I am sick of them, and have resolved to
wash my hands of them as soon as possible." The thought of min
gling again in the strife of party politics was loathing to him ; but
he could not banish from his mind the intimate knowledge of politi
cal events, their causes and consequences, which he possessed in so
eminent a degree ; nor could he prevent the natural affinity for those
great moral and political principles and agencies, which are for ever
moving and moulding the social and political institutions of mankind.
He was a statesman by nature — nascitur non fit — a born statesman.
His observations, however trivial or brief, have a pith and meaning
beyond the sagest reflections of most other raen.
Many of his reflections rise to the dignity of political aphorisms,
and are worthy to be ranked with the profound raaxims of the great

POLITICAL REFLECTIONS. 71
master of political philosophy. Last May, after Bonaparte had es
caped from Elba, marched in triumph to Paris, and driven the fright
ed Bourbon once more from his throne, Mr. Eandolph thus discourses
on the affairs of Europe :
" On the late events in Europe, which baffle all calculation, I have
looked with an eye not very different from yours," [Addressed to Mr.
Key.] " The Bourbons refused to abolish the slave trade. Bona
parte, from temporal views, no doubt, has made it the first act after
his restoration I Here is food for solemn meditation. The situation
of England is, according to my conception of things, more awful than
ever. A sated libertine at the head of the government ; a profligate
debauchee her prime minister. When I think on Wilberforce and bis
worthy compeers, I cannot despair. Ten such would have saved So
dom. But what a frightful mass of wickedness does that country, as
well as our own, present ! Both rescued, by the most providential in
terference of Heaven, from ruin. But what do we see ? Humble
and hearty thanks for unmerited mercy ? Self-abasement, penitence
for past offences, and earnest resolutions for future amendment,'
through divine assistance ? I can recognize none of these. Even
in myself how faint are these feelings, compared with ray conscious
ness of their necessity ! England, I sometimes think, stands on the
verge of some mighty convulsion. The corruption of her government
and her principal men, the discontents of her needy and profligate
lower orders, the acts of her Cobbetts and Burdetts, all seem to threaten
the overthrow of her establishment, in Church and State. Jacobinism
has, I believe, a stronger hold in that country than in any other in Eu
rope. But the foolishness of huraan wisdora, nothing daunted by re
peated overthrows of all its speculations and the confusion of its plans,
yet aspires to grasp and to control the designs of the Almighty."
But the period had corae for John Eandolph to appear again
on the public stage. The times had been truly eventful. The cycle
of five and twenty years, in which the spirit of human liberty fought
for her existence, had rolled round and come to a close. Born of the
divine love shed forth in the gospel of Jesus Christ, bursting up in
radiant majesty from the crumbling ruins of an effete feudalism, the
cheerful voice of the Spirit of Liberty was flrst heard in the National
Assembly of France, speaking in the accents of hope and of joy to
the down-trodden millions of the earth. But, alas ! in the wanton
excess of an untried freedom, she quickly ran into a wild fanati
cism, and swept the good as well as the evil into one common
ruin. Seeking to break the oppressor's rod, and to tear down his tow-

72 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
ers and his dungeons of cruelty, she condemned time-honored virtue to
the same indiscriminate death with hoary-headed vice, and pointed
her finger of contempt and mockery at venerated wisdom no less
than at cant and hypocrisy. This mad Spirit, lovely even in hei
madness, though mangled by the guillotine, and suffocated in the
dungeons of the Conciergerie, rose triumphant, swept like an angel ot
destruction over the hills of Ardenne, the plains of Lorabardy, and
called down from the Pyramids of Egypt the witness of ages on tht
heroic deeds of her sons amid the desert sands of Africa. Bw
wearied iwith excess, and hunted down, like Acteon, by the blood'
hounds that had been nurtured in her own bosora, she at length felS
beneath the iron heel of an imperial despotisra, and was finally crushed
and stifled in the blood of Waterloo. In the death agonies of Wa
terloo, freedom expired ; a leaden peace was restored to Europe, and
a new lease of thirty years for their dominions and their thrones, was
vouchsafed to monarchs. Peace also, about the same time, was re
stored to our own borders, and with it came temptations to seduce
the watchful guardian from his vigilant protection of the Constitu
tion, and dangers more threatening than war to the liberties of the
country. Pressed by a. coramon necessity, bearing a heavy burthen
of taxes, and confronting on every hand the external foes of their
country, the mass of the people had but one object, were impelled by
one sentiment — a speedy and successful termination of hostilities.
That accomplished, each individual plunged into his own chosen field
of enterprise, eagerly bent on his own aggrandizement, while the
government was left, unrestrained and unobserved, to pursue its
course in repairing the damages brought on the country by that most
unprofitable of all work, the strtiggle to see how much harm each
can do to the other. The obstructions of erabargo and non-
intercourse, followed by the destructive operations of a maritime
war, had brought in their train a series of evil consequences. The
republican party, as we already know, advocated those measures.
Without stopping to inquire whether right or wrong, the task
devolved on them, being still in the ascendent, to reraedy the evils
they must have foreseen and anticipated. " The embargo," said Mr.
Eandolph long ago, " was the Iliad of all our woes." The repub
licans were placed in a most difficult and critical position.
Those young and ardent spirits who urged on the war, and conducted

POLITICAL REFLECTIONS. 73
it to a successful termination, were well suited for a time of
excitement and destruction ; but when the period arrived for heal
ing and building up, graver counsel would have been raore desirable.
It required the utmost prudence and delicacy to restore the Consti
tution to its normal state, and to adjust the various and conflicting
interests of the country in the well-poised scale of a wise abstinence
and justice. Unfortunately, the republican party adopted those mea
sures of relief which were most fatal to their principles . They who
had come into power on the overthrow of the doctrines of Hamilton,
were now, undA: the plea of necessity, about to outstrip the great fede
ral leader himself in the adoption and advocacy of those temporizing
and unconstitutional expedients they had so loudly condemned.
" Until the present session,'' says Mr. Eandolph, " I had not a concep
tion of the extent of the change wrought in the sentiraents of the
people of this country by the war. I now see men trained in the
school of the opposition to the administration of John Adams, who,
down to June, 1812, were stanch sticklers for the Constitution, ab
jure all their former principles, and declare for expediency against
right." " We have been told, sir," said Mr. Eandolph at a later
period, " that the framers of the Constitution foresaw the rising sun
of some new sects, which were to construe the powers of the govern
raent differently from their intention ; and therefore the clause grant
ing a general power to make all laws that might be necessary and
proper to carry the granted powers into effect, was inserted in the
Constitution. Yes, such a sect did arise some twenty years ago;
and, unfortunately, I had the honor to be a member of that church.
From the commencement of the government to this day, differences
have arisen between the two great parties in this nation ; one con
sisting of the disciples of Mr. Hamilton, the Secretary of the Trea
sury ; and another party, who believed that in their construction of
the Constitution, those to whom they opposed themselves exceeded
the just limits of its legitimate authority ; and I pray gentlemen to
take into their most serious consideration the fact, that on this very
question of construotion, this sect, which the framers of the Constitu
tion foresaw might arise, did arise in their might, and put down the
construction of the Constitution according to the Hamiltonian ver
sion. But, did we at that day dream that a new sect would arise after
them, which would as far transcend Alexander Hamilton and his dis<
VOL. II. 4

74 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
ciples as they outwent Thomas Jefferson, James Madison and John
Taylor, of Caroline ? This is the deplorable fact. Such is now the
actual state of things in this land ; and it is not a subject so much
of demonstration as it is self-evident; it speaks to the senses, so that
every one may understand it."
The first ofthat series of measures which gave birth to this new sect
of politicians, and brought about the state of things so much deplored
by Mr. Eandolph, was the Bank Charter, passed at this session of
Congress. The first incorporation of a bank, in .1791, was opposed by Tho
mas Jefferson and the republican party, as being an unwarranted
assumption of power, nowhere granted in the Constitution. Conse
quently, when the charter of the old bank expired in 1811, they
refused to renew it on the same ground. Henry Clay, then a sena
tor from Kentucky, argued the question at great length,: " This
vagrant power," says he, " to erect a bank, after having wandered
throughout the whole Constitution in quest of some congenial spot
whereon to fasten, has been at length located, by the gentleman from
Georgia, on that provision which authorizes Congress to lay and col
lect taxes. In 1791 the power is referred to one part of the instru
ment; in 1811, to another. Sometimes it is alleged to be deducible
from the power to regulate commerce. Hard pressed here, it dis
appears, and shows itself under the grant to coin money. The saga
cious Secretary of the Treasury, in 1791, pursued the wisest course.
He has taken shelter behind general high-sounding and imposing
terms. He has declared in the preamble to the act establishing the
bank that it will be very conducive to the successful conducting of
the national finances ; will tend to give facility to the obtaining of
loans ; and will be productive of considerable advantage to trade and
industry in general. No allusion is made to the collection of taxes.
What is the nature of this government? It is emphatically fede
ral, vested with an aggregate of specified powers for general pur
poses, conceded by existing sovereignties, who have themselves
retained what is not so conceded. It is said that there are cases
in which it must act on implied powers. This is not controverted ,
but the implication must be necessary, and obviously flow from the
enumerated power with which it is allied. The power to charter
companies is not specified in the grant, and, I contend, is of a natura

POLITICAL REFLECTIONS. 75
not transferable by mere implication. It is one of the most exalted
attributes of sovereignty. In the exercise of this gigantic power, we
have seen an East India Company created, which has carried dismay,
desolation and death, thoughout one of th« largest portions of the habit
able globe ; a company which is, in itself, a sovereignty, which has
subverted empires, and set up new dynasties, and has not only mad'e
war, but war against its legitimate sovereign ! Under the influence
of this power, we have seen arise a South Sea Company and a Missis
sippi Company, that distracted and convulsed all Europe, and
menaced a total overthrow gf all credit and confidence, and universal
bankruptcy. Is it to be imagined that a power so vas't would have
been left by the wisdom of the Constitution to doubtful inference ?"
Such was the forcible reasbning that induced the republicans in
1811 to refuse to recharter the bank or to incorporate another simi
lar institution. They stood by the Constitution. But now, in 1816,
every thing was changed ; and what seemed unconstitutional before
had become clearly necessary and proper, and therefore constitu
tional. Mr. Clay, who had become their leader and exponent, under
takes to justify his change of position : " Tho consideration," says he,
" upon which I acted in 1811 was, that as the power to create a cor
poration, such as was proposed to be continued, was not specifically
granted in the Constitution, and did not then appear to me to be
necessary to carry into effect any of the powers which were specifi
cally granted, Congress was not authorized to continue the bank.
The 'Constitution contains powers delegated and prohibitory ; powers
expressed and constructive. It vests in Congress all powers neces
sary to give effect to the enumerated powers ; all that may be neces
sary to put in motion and activity the machine of government which
it constructs. The powers that may be so necessary are deducible
by construction ; they are not defined in the Constitution ; they are,
from their nature, undefinable. When the question is in relation to
one of these powers, the point of inquiry should be, is its exertion
necessary to carry into effect any of the enumerated powers and ob
jects of the General Government ? With regard to the degree of ne-
oessity, various rules have been at different times laid down ; but,
perhaps, at last, there is no other than a sound and honest judgment
exercised, under the checks and control which belong to the Consti
tution and the people.

76 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
" The constructive powers being auxiliary to the specifically
granted powers, and depending for their sanction and existence upon
a necessity to give effect to the latter — which necessity is to be
sought for and ascertained by a sound and honest discretion — it is
manifest that this necessity may not be perceived, at one time, under
one state of things, when it is perceived, at another time, Tinder a
different state of things. The Constitution, it is true, never changes ;
it is always the same ; but the force of circumstances and the lights
of experience may evolve, to the fallible persons charged with its ad
ministration, the fitness and necessity of -^ particular exercise of con
structive power to-day^ which they did not see at a former period."
Mr. Clay then goes on to state facts which, in his judgment, rendered
a bank in 1811 unnecessary. There were other means of eondueting
the fiscal affairs of the Government; "They," says he, "superseded
the necessity of a national institution." But how stood the case in
1816, when he was called upon again to examine the power of the
General Government to incorporate a national bank ? A total change
of circumstances was presented ; events of the utmost magnitude
had intervened. These events made a bank, in the opinion of Mr,
Clay, necessary and proper, as an implied power, and therefore con
stitutional. But Mr, Clay does not do full justice to his position in
1811, He then declared that the poiver to charter companies is not
specified in the grant, and is of a nature not transferable by mere
implication. It is one of the most exalted attributes of sovereignty. It
is inconceivable how a man, holding these opinions, could suffer any
possible circuinstanees that might arise, to influence and change his
position ,
Yet Mr Clay did shift his ground entirely, and contend, that
although the power to charter companies was not specified in the
grant, and was one of the most exalted attributes of sovereignty, still
it was a constructive power necessary and proper to carry into effect
those specifically granted, and therefore to be implied as a consequent
and appendage to them. Tlie force of circumstances may evolve to
the fallible persons, charged with the administration of the govern
ment, the fitness and necessity of a particular exercise of constructive
power to-day, which they did not see at a former period. And the
degree of 'necessity which renders such constructive poiver constitu.
tional is made to depend on the sound and honest judgment of thosn

POLITICAL REFLECTIONS. 77
in authority. Men who wish to exercise a doubtful power, not spe
cified in the grant, may themselves create the circumstances that shall
render its exercise, in their estimation, necessary and proper. In
stead of looking to the charter to see whether the power is granted,
they have only to consider the force of circumstances urging on them,
and to consult their own judgments (fallible persons) as to the degree
of necessity which justifies the assumption of an undelegated author
ity. This is a virtual surrender of the Constitution. By such a law
of interpretation, the jurisdiction of the Federal Governraent is made
unlimited, and, instead of possessing delegated, specifically defined,
and liraited powers, it becomes, a magnificent, all-absorbing, all-gov
erning empire, with unrestrained and unlimited authority
But Mr, Clay did not stand alone in this abandonment of the Con
stitution. He was followed by a decided majority of the republican
party in Congress, and by all the executive authorities, with the Pre
sident at their head. At first, there were sorae constitutional scru
ples raanifested by the members of the House of Eepresentatives.
Men could not be brought to believe the difficulties in question, if
they existed at all, were such as to require the House to sacrifice
principle at the shrine of necessity. On the 10th of January, 1814,
Mr. Eppes, from the Committee of Ways and Means, reported that
the power to create corporations within the territorial limits of the
States, without the consent of the States, is neither one of the pow
ers delegated by the Constitution of the United States, or essentially
necessary for carrying into effect any delegated power.
Mr. Calhoun, of South Carolina, moved that the Committee of the
Whole be discharged from the consideration of this report, which was
agreed to, and offered, as a substitute, a resolution that the Commit
tee of Ways and Means be instructed to inquire into the expediency
of establishing a national bank, to be located in the District of Co-
iMmbia. In this way they thought to get around the constitutional
question. But men soon came to see the alarming consequences of
an interpretation which permitted Congress, in the District, to do the
most unconstitutional acts, merely because they possessed exclusive
jurisdiction. At length, all these subterfuges were abandoned ; and on the 8th
of January, 1816, an ominous day for the bank, Mr. Calhoun re-
jported " A bill to incorporate the subscribers to the Bank of the

78 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
United States." In his opening argument, he undertook to show th«
necessity that urged to the adoption of the measure now proposed
" We have," says he, "in lieu of gold and silver, a paper medium, un
equally but generally depreciated, which affects the trade and indus
try of the nation ; which paralyzes the national arm ; which sullies
the faith, both public and private, of the United States — a paper no
longer resting on gold and silver as its basis. We have, indeed,
laws regulating the currency of foreign eoin, but they are, under pre
sent circumstances, a mockery of legislation, beeause there is no coin
in circulation. The right of raaking money — an attribute of sove
reign power, a sacred and important rigkt — was exercised by two
hundred and sixty banks, scattered over every part of the United
States ; not responsible to any power whatever for their issues of
paper. The next and great inquiry was," he said, " how this evil
was to be remedied ? Eestore," said hfe, " these institutions to their
original use ; cause them to give up this usurped power ; cause them
to return to their legitimate office of places of discount and deposit ;
let them be no longer mere paper machines ; restore the state of
things which existed anterior to 1813, which was consistent with
the just policy and interests of the country ; cause them to fulfil
their contracts ; to respect their broken- faith ; resolve that every
where there shall be an uniform value to the national currency f
your constitutional control will then prevail." A National Bank, he
argued, was the speeifie to cure all these evils.
Mr, Bandolph, who made his appearance in the House for the first
time about the period that Mr. Calhoun introduced his bill, took
occasion to say, that he had listened to the honorable gentleman with
pleasure. He was glad to see a cause so important in hand's so able.
He promised the honorable gentleman, though he might not agree
with his mode of remedying the evil, he would go with him in the
application of any adequate remedy to an evil which he regarded as
most enormous;
Mr. Eandolph said he rose to ask two- questions — one of the gen
tleman from South Carolina, and the other of the gentleman from
Maryland : — first, how the paper to be created by this bank will cor
rect the vitiated state of our currency ? and, secondly, how bank
notes can answer the purpose of a circulating medium better than
treasury notes ? Though no stickler for treasury notes, Mr. Ean-

POLITICAL REFLECTIONS. 79
dolph intimated his opinion that they were, in time of peaee, a better
substitute for gold and silver than any paper he had yet heard sub
mitted. He added some incidental observations, and concluded by
saying, that he was sorry to see the apathy, the listlessness on this
subject ; on a question, which, if it passed, would, perhaps, be the
most important decided since the establishment of the Constitution ;
and that though he agreed fully as to the extent of the existing evil,
the remedy had been totally mistaken.
During the progress of the bill through the House, a motion was
made to strike out that part which authorizes the Government to
subscribe a certain portion of the stock. Mr. Eandolph said he
should vote for this motion, because one of his chief objections (one
of them, he repeated) was the concern which it was proposed to give
to the United States in the bank. He referred to the sale, by the
Secretary of the Treasury, some years ago, of the shares belonging to
the Bank of the United States, and stated the reasons of his approv
ing that step ; but, he added, that it was a strong arguraent against
the feature of the bank bill now under consideration, that whenever
there should be in this country a necessitous and profiigate adrainis
tration of the, Government, that bank stock would be laid hold of by
the first Squanderfield at the head of the Treasury, as the means of
filling its empty coffers. But, if there was no objection to this fea
ture stronger than that it would afford provision for the first rainy
day, it might not be considered so very important. He argued, how
ever, that it was eternally true, that nothing but the precious metals,
or paper bottomed on thera, could answer as the currency of any
nation or age, notwithstanding the fanciful theories that great pay
ments could only be made by credits and paper. How, he asked on
this point, were the mighty armies of the ancient world paid off?
Certainly not in paper or bank credits. He expressed his fears, lest
gentlemen had got some of their ideas on these subjects frora the
wretched pamphlets under which the British and American press had
groaned, on the subject of a circulating medium. He said he had
once himself turned projector, and sketched the plan of a bank, of
which it was a feature, that the Government should have a concern
in it ; but he became convinced of the fallacy of his views — he found
his project would not answer. His objections to the agency of the
Government in a bank was, therefore, he said, of no recent date, but

go LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
one long formed— the objection was vital; that it would be an engine
of irresistible power in the hands of any administration ; that it
would be in politics and finance, what the celebrated proposition of
Archimedes was in physics — ^a place, the fulcrum ; from which, at
the will of the Executive, the whole nation oould be hurled to de
struction, or managed in any way, at his will and pleasure.
This bill,, in the view of Mr. Eandolph, presented two distinct
questions : the one frigidly and rigorously a mere matter of calcula-
lation ; the other, involving some very important political conside
rations. , In regard to the present depreciation of paper, he did not agree
with those who thought the establishment of a National Bank would
aid in the reformation of it. If he were to go into the causes vrhich
produced the present state of things, he said, he should never end.
As to the share the banks themselves had in producing it, ht re
garded the dividends they had made since its commencement as con
clusive proof
" The present time, sir," continued Mr. Eandolph, " is, in my view,
one of the most diastrous ever witnessed in the republic, and this bill
proves it. The proposal to establish this great bank- is but resorting
,to a crutch, and, so far as I understand it, it is a broken one ; it will
tend, instead of remedying the evil, to aggravate it. The evil of the
times is a spirit engendered in this republic, fatal to republican prin
ciples — fatal to republican virtue : a spirit to live by any means but
those of honest industry ; a spirit of profusion : in other words, the
spirit of Catiline himself — alieni avidus sui profusus — .a spirit of ex
pediency, not only in public but in private life : the system of Didier
in the farce — ^living any way and well ; wearing an expensive coat,
and drinking the finest wines, at any body's expense. This bank, I
imagine, sir, (I am far from ascribing fo the gentleman from South
Carolina any such views,) is, to a certain extent, a modification of the
same system. Connected, as it is to be, with the Government, when
ever it goes into operation, a scene will be exhibited on the great
theatre of the United States, at which I shudder. If we mean to trans-
rait our institutions unimpaired to posterity ; if some, now living, wish
to continue to live under the same institutions by which they are now
ruled — and with all its evils, real or imaginary, I presume no man
will question that we live under the easiest government on the globe
— ^we must put bounds to the spirit which seeks wealth by every path
but the plain and regular path of honest industry and honest fame.
Let us not disguise the fact, sir, we think we are living in the bet
ter times of the Eepublic. We deceive ourselves ; we are almost in

POijITICAL REFLECTIONS. 81
the days of Sylla and Marius : yes, we have almost got down to the
time of Jugurtha. It is unpleasant to put one's self in array against a
great leading interest in a community, be they a knot of land specula
tors, paper jobbers, or what not ; but, sir, every man you meet in this
House or out of it, with some rare exceptions, which only serve to
prove the rule, is either a stockholder, president, cashier, clerk, or
doorkeeper, runner, engraver, paper-maker, or mechanic, in some way
or other, to a bank. The gentleman from Pennsylvania may dismiss
his fears for the banks, with their one hundred and seventy millions
of paper, on eighty-two millions of capital. However great the evil
of their conduct may be, who is to bell the aat ? who is to take the
bull by the horns ? You might as well attack Gibraltar with a pocket
pistol as to attempt to puniiSh them. There ai-G very few who dare
speak truth to this mammoth. The banks are so linked together with
the business of the world, that there are very few men exempi from
their influence. The true secret is, the banks are creditors as well as
debtors ; and if they were merely debtors to us for the paper in our
pockets, they would soon, like Morris and Nicholson, go to jail (figu
ratively speaking) for having issued more paper than they were able
to pay when presented to them. A man has their note for fifty dol
lars, perhaps, in his pocket, for which he wants fifty Spanish milled
dollars ; but they have his note for five thousand in their possession,
and laugh at his demand. We are tied hand and fcipt, sir, and bound
to cpnciliate this great mammoth, which is set up to worship in this
Christian land : we are bound to propitiate it. Thus whilst our govern
ment denounces hierarchy ; will permit no privileged order for con
ducting the services of the only true God ; whilst it denounces nobi
lity — has a privileged order of new men grown up, the pressure of
whose foot, sir, I feel at this moment on my neck. If any thing
could reconcile me to this monstrous alliance between the bank and
the government, if the object could be attained of compelling the
banks to fulfil their engagements, I could almost find it in my heart
to go with' the gentleman in voting for it.
" The stuff uttered on all hands, and absolutely got by rote by the
haberdashers' boys behind the counters in the shops, that the paper
now in circulation will buy any thing you want as well as gold and
silver, is answered by saying that you want to buy silver with it.
The present mode of' banking, sir, goes to demoralize society ; it is as
much swindling to issue notes with the intent not to pay, as it is bur
glary to break open a house. If they are unable to pay, the banks
are bankrupts ; if able to pay and will not, they are fraudulent bank
rupts. But a man might as well go to Constantinople to preach
Christianity, as to get up here and preach against the banks. To
pass this bill would be like getting rid of the rats by setting fire to
the house. Whether any other remedy can be devised, I will not
VOL. H. 4*

82 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
now undertake to pronounce. The banks have lost all shame, and
exemplify a beautiful and very just observation of one of the finest
writers, that men banded together in a common cause, will collectively
do that at which every individual of the combination would spurn.
This observation has been applied to the enormities committed and
connived at by the British East India Company ; and will equally
appply to the modern systera of banking, and still more to the spirit
of party. " As to establishing this bank to prevent a variation in the rate of
exchange of bank paper, you might as well expect it to prevent the
variations of the wind ; you raight as well pass an act of Congress
(for which, if it would be of any good, I should certainly vote) to
prevent the northwest wind from blowitig in our teeth as we go from
the House to our lodgings.
" But, sir, I will conclude by pledging myself to agree to any ade
quate raeans to cure the great evil, that are consistent with the ad
rainistration of the government, in such a manner as to conduce to
the happiness of the people and the reformation of the public morals."
Mr. Eandolph combated the bill in all its stages, moved amend
ments with a view of abridging and restraining the powers of the
corporation, and, finally, on the 5th of April, 1816, when the bill was
sent back from the Senate with sundry amendments for the concur
rence of the House, he moved, for the purpose of destroying the bill,
that the whole subject be indefinitely postponed ; and supported his
motion by adverting to the small number of merabers present, and
the impropriety of passing, by a screwed up, strained, and costive
majority, so important a measure, at the end of a session, when the
members were worn down and exhausted by a daily and long atten
tion to business ; a measure which, in time of war, and of great pub
lic emergency, could not be forced through the House ; a measure so
deeply involving the future welfare, and which was to give a color
and character to the future destiny of this country ; a measure which,
if it and another (the tariff) should pass into laws, the present ses
sion would be looked back to as the raost disastrous since the com
mencement of the republic ; and which, much as he deprecated war,
he would prefer war itself to either of them. Mr. Eandolph then
proceeded to argue against the bill as unconstitutional, inexpedient,
and dangerous. His constitutional objections, he said, were borne
out by the decision of Congress in refusing to renew the charter of
the old bank, which decision was grounded on the want of constitu-

POLITICAL REFLECTIONS. 83
tional power. He adverted, also, in support of his opinion, to the
instructions from the legislatures of Virginia and Kentucky to their
senators to vote against the old bank ; which instructions were given
on the ground of that institution being unconstitutional. " I declare
to you, sir," said Mr. Eandolph, " that I am the holder of no stock
whatever, except live stock, and had determined never to own any
— but, if this bill passes, I will not only be a stockholder to the
utmost of my power, but will advise every man, over whora I have
any influence, to do the same, because it is the creation of a great
privileged order of the most hatefiil kind to my feelings, and because
I would rather be the master than the sla re. If I must have a
master, let him be one with epaulettes — something that I can fear
and respect, something that I can look up to — but not a master with
a quill behind his ear."
After finally passing through both Houses, the bank bill was pre
sented to Mr. Madison ; he signed it, and it became a law. Mr.
Madison, it is well known, was hitherto opposed to the incorporation
of a National Bank on constitutional grounds. His Eeport in 1799-
1800, to the Virginia legislature on the general powers of the F-ed-
eral Government, is conclusive and unanswerable on that subject.
But on the present occasion he waived the question of the constitu
tional authority of the legislature to establish an incorporated bank,
as being precluded, in his judgment, by repeated recognitions, under
varied circumstances, of the validity of such an institution in acts of
the legislative, executive, and judicial branches of the government,
accompanied by indications, in different modes, of a concurrence of
the general will of the nation.
Mr. Clay and his compeers surrendered the Constitution on the
plea of necessity — the force Of circumstances — Mr. Madison on the
score of precedent — repeated recognitions of the validity of such an
institution ! Well might the patriot weep over this last, fatal act of
a great and a- good raan ! Well might he bemoan the imbecility of
human nature, when he beheld the same hand that constructed the
immortal argument by which the Constitution is made to rest on its
true and lasting basis, in old age destroy the glorious work of its
meridian power.
Eandolph did not scruple to charge this act to the weakness of

84 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
old age. Sora(! years after this event, and when the bank was in fuK
career, fulfilling all his predictions, hear what he says : —
"- 1 am sorry to say, because I should be the last raan in the world
to disturb the repose of a venerable man, to whom I wish a quiet end
of his honorable life, that all the difficulties under which we have
labored, and now labor, on this subject (Tariff aud Internal Improve
ment by the General Government), have grown out of a fatal admis
sion, by one of the late Presidents of the United States, an admission
which runs counter to the tenor of his wuole political life, and is ex
pressly contradicted by one of the most luminous and able state pa
pers that ever was written, the offspring of his pen — an admission
which gave a sanction to the principle, that this governraent had the
power to charter the present colossal Bank vf the United States.
Sir," said Mr. Eandolph, " that act, and one other, which I will not
name, bring forcibly home to my mind a train of melancholy reflec
tions on the miserable state of our mortal being.
' In life's last scenes, what prodigies arise I
Fears of the brave and follies of the wise.
From Marlborough's eyes the streams of dotage flow ;
And Swift expires a driv'ler and a show.'
" Such is the state of the case, sir. It is miserable to think of it
— and we have nothing left to us but to weep over it,"
And again, on the same occasion, in 1824 —
" But the gentleman from New-York, and some others who have
spoken on this occasion, say, What ! shall we be startled by a shadow 1
Shall we recoil from taking a power clearly within (what ?) our reach ?
Shall we not clutch the sceptre — the air-drawn sceptre that invites
our hand, because of the fears and alarms of the gentleman from
Virginia ?
" Sir, if I cannot give reason to the committee, they shall at least,
have authority, Thomas Jefferson, then in the vigor of his intellect,
was one of the persons who denied the existence of such powers —
Jaines Madison was another. He, in that masterly and unrivalled
report in the legislature of Virginia, which is worthy to be the text
book of every American statesman, has settled this question. For,
me to attempt to add any thing to the arguments of that paper, would
be to attempt to' gild refined gold — to paint the lily — to throw a per
fume on the violet — to smooth the ice — or add another hue unto the
rainbow — in every aspect of it, wasteful and ridiculous excess. Nei
ther will I hold up my farthing rush-light to the blaze of that me
ridian sun. But, sir, I cannot but deplore — my heart aches when I
think of it — that the hand which erected that monuraent of political
wisdom, should have signed the act to ireorporate the present Bank
of the United States."

HOME— SOLITUDE. 85
CHAPTEE VII,
HOME — SOLITUDE,
Mr. Eandolph was not less strenuous in his opposition to the " revenue
bill," or tariff measure, of this eventful session ; but we pass that, for
the present, until it comes up again in a more aggravated form. Death,
it seems, had made his friends the chosen mark for his fatal weapons.
Mrs. Judith Eandolph died in March, at the house of her friend — a
great and a good man — ^Dr. John H. Eice, of Eichmond. She doubt
less died of a broken heart. Bereft of every comfort, life had no
charms for her, and she sought death as a blessing. Her friends
and Mr. Eandolph's friends followed her mortal remains in sad pro
cession to Tuckahoe — the family seat of her ancestors — some miles
above Eichmond, on James Eiver, where they rest in peace beneath
the shadow of those venerable oaks that witnessed the ,sweet gambols
of her joyous and innocent childhood.
No sooner was this sad bereavement communicated to Mr. Ean
dolph, than he was called to the bedside of a dying friend — an old
and tried friend — a companion who had stood by him through evil as
well as good report, as he fought like a bold champion for the Con
stitution and the rights of the people. " Yesterday (April llth) we
buried- poor Stanford. I staid by his bedside the night before he
died. Jupiter was worn down by nursing him, and is still feeling the
effects of it. He returned home on Sunday morning, and has been
sick ever since. My own health is not much better, and my spirits
worse. Poor Stanford ! he is not the least regretted of those who
have been taken from me within the past year."
In addition to his present family — Dr. Dudley and young Clay —
Mr. Eandolph took upon himself the charge and the responsibility of two
other orphan boys. "I have just returned from Baltimore, where I
went to meet the sons of my deceased friend Bryan, consigned to my
care. They are fine boys, but have been much neglected. I propose
to place thera at Prince Edward College, under the care of Dr.
Hogue, after they shall have undergone some preparatory tuition at
Mr. Lacy's school."

gg LIFE OP JOHN RANDOLPH.
These acts speak for themselves. By these, and such as these,
that crowd his whole life, let him be judged. Here is one the
world have agreed to condemn as a misanthrope— -a hater of his
fellow-man. It is certain he did not seek to be known of men.
Few could understand (" My mother— she understood me !"), few
could appreciate him.
While apparently absorbed in the business of legislation, thegreai
question was still uppermost in his thoughts. Before leaving Wash*
ington for his solitary home, he sought an interview with his trusty
friend, " Frank Key," and rode over to Georgetown (May 7th, 1816,)
for that purpose. But failing to meet with him. he went into Semmes's
Hotel, and wrote him the following letter :
" Hearing, at Davis's, yesterday, that you were seen in Geoife-
town the evening before, I carae here in the expectation of the pleas
ure of seeing you ; but my intelligence proved to be like the greater
part that happens under that name in this poor, foolish world of
ours. I had also another motive. I wished to give Wood an oppor
tunity to finisbthe picture. I called last evening, but he was gone to
Mt. Vernon. I shall drive by his apartment, and give him the last
sitting this morning. It is a soothing reflection to me, that your
children, long after I am dead and gone, may look upon their some
time father's friend, of whose features they will have perhaps retained
some faint recollection. Let me remind you that, although I am
childless, I cannot forego my claim to the return picture, on which I
set a very high value. i-
" Your absence from home is a sore disappointment to me. I
wanted to have talked with you, unreservedly, on subjects of the high
est interest. I wanted your advice as a friend, on the course of my
future life. Hitherto it has been almost without plan or system — -
the sport of what we call chance. '
" About a year ago, I got a scheme into my head, which I have
.-nore than once hinted to you ; but I fear my capacity to carry it
into execution.
" There is, however, another cause of uneasiness, about which I
could have wished to confer freely with you. It has cost me many a
pang, within a few months past especially. In the most important
of human concerns I have made no advancement ; on the contrary
(as is always the case when we do not advance), I have fallen back.
My mind is filled with misgivings and doubts and perplexities that
leave me no repose. Of the necessity for forgiveness I have the
strongest conviction ; but I cannot receive any assurance that it has
been accorded to me. In short, I am in the worst conceivable situ-

HOME—SOLITUDE, 87
ation as its respects my internal peace and future welfare, I want
aid ; and the company and conversation of such a friend as yourself
might assist in dispelling, for a time, at least, the gloom that d.e-
presses rae; I have humbly sought comfort where alone it is effectu
ally to be obtained, but without success. To you and Mr, Meade I
can venture to write in this style, without disguising the secret work
ings of my heart. I wish I cOuld always be in reach of you. The
solitude of my own dwelling is appalling to me. Write to me, and
direct- to Eichmond."
To this Mr. Key replied :
" As we could not confer upon the subjects ycu mention, we raust
postpone them till we meet again, or manage them in writing ; just
as you please. In either way you will have much to excuse in me ;
but I trust you will find within yourself a counsellor and comforter
who will guide you ' into all peace.' Desperate indeed would be
our case, if we had nothing better to lead us than our own wisdom
and strength or the experience of our friends. If, not'irithstanding
all your doubts and misgivings, you are sincerely and earnestly desi
rous to know the truth, and resolved to obey it, cost what it may, you
have the promise of God that it shall be revealed to you. If you are
convinced you are a sinner, that Christ alope can save you from
the sentence of condemnation incurred by your sins, and from the
dominion of them : if you raake an entire and unconditional surren
der of yourself to his service, renouncing that of the world and of
yourself ; if you thus hurably and faithfully come to him, ' he will in
no wise cast you out.'
"You can do rauch for the cause of religion, whatever plan of life
you may adopt ; you can resolutely and thoroughly bear your testi
mony in its favor. You can adorn its doctrines, and so preach them
most powerfully by a good life. You can be seen resisting and over
coming, in the strength of God, the powerful and uncomraon tempta
tions that oppose you ; and your light can, and, I trust, will shine
far and brightly around you. Do not be disheartened by the diffi
culties you raay feel ; they are experienced by all, and grace and
strength to overcome them are offered to all. The change from dark
ness to light, from death to life, is the result of no single effort, but
of constant and persevering, and, often, painful striving. How can
it be otherwise when we think of what that change is ? It finds us
' dead in trespasses and sins,' ' having our conversation in the flesh,'
' fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind,' ' children""of
wrath,' 'without Christ.' 'strangers to the covenant of promise,
' having no hope, and without God in the world •' and it makes us
' nigh by the blood of Christ ;' ' no more foreigners and strangers, but
fellow-citizens with the saints and of the household of God;' 'justi
fied by faith, and having peace with God, through our Lord Jesus

88 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Christ.' May you experience this change, my dear friend, in all its
blessedness." Eandolph thus replied : ¦¦ Roanoke, June 16, 1816.
" Owing to the incorrigible negligence of the postmaster at Eich
mond, I did not get your letter of the 22d of last month until this
morning. I had felt some surprise at n^t hearing from you, and the
delay of your letter sesved but to enhance its value. I read it this
morning in bed, and derived great consolation from the frame of mind
to which it disposed me. My time has been a wretched one since I saw
you — dreary and desponding. I heard Mr. Hogue yesterday ; and dur
ing a short conversation, riding from church, he told rae that he believed
that there were times and seasons when all of us were overcome by
such feelings in spite of our best efforts against them ; efforts which,
however, we ought by no means to relax, since they tended both to miti
gate the degree and shorten the period of our suffering* My own
case (every body, no doubt, thinks the same) appears to be peculiarly
miserable. To rae the world is a vast desert, and there is -no merit
in renouncing it, since there is no difficulty. There never was a time
when it was so utterly destitute of allurement for me. The difficulty
with me is to find some motive to action — something to break the
sluggish tenor of ray life. I look back upon the havoc of the past
year as upon a bloody field of battle, where ray friends have perished.
I look out towards the world, and find a wilderness, peopled indeed,
but not with flesh and blood — with monsters tearing one another to
pieces for money or power, or some other vile lust. Araong them
will be found, with here and there an exception, the professors of the
religion of meekness and love, itself too often made the bone of con
tention and faction. Is it not strange that a being so situated should
find difficulty in renouncing himself, the dominion of his own bad pas
sions ? To such an one another and a better world is a necessary
refuge, and yet he cannot embrace it.
" My dear friend, it is very unreasonable that I should throw the
burthen of my black and dismal thoughts upon you ; but they so
weigh me down that I cannot escape from thera ; and when I can
speak without restraint, they will have vent."
Mr. Eandolph spent the suramer 'at home entirely alone. Dr.
Dudley's health required a visit to the Virginia Springs, where he
remained during the season. The boys were at school. With
the exception of a short visit to Eichmond, he did not leave his
own plantation. His time was consumed in silence and in solitude.
There can be no question that this entire abstinence from human
society — the cheerful face of man and woman — the morning saluta-

DYING, SIR— DYING, 89
tion and the evening converse witji friends loving and beloved — had a
pernicious influence on his health, his mind, and his temper.
No raan enjoyed with a higher relish the intellectual and polished
society of those friends, men and women, whom he had endeared to
him by the strongest ties of affection, no man felt more keenly its ab
sence. Yet it seems to have been his lot to live in solitude ; so few
understood him !
On the 25th of October he thus writes to Mr, Key :
" If your life is so unsatisfactory to you, what must that of others
be to them ? For my part, if there breathes a creature more empty
of enjoyment than myself, I sincerely pity him. My opinions seem
daily to become more unsettled, and the awful mystery which shrouds
the future alone renders the present tolerable. The darkness of my
hours, so far from having passed away, has thickened into the deepest
gloom. I try not to think, by moulding my raind upon the thoughts
of others ; but to little purpose. Have you ever read Zimmerman
on Solitude ? I do not mean the popular cheap book under that
title, but another, in which solitude is considered with respect to its
dangerous infiuence upon the raind and the heart. I have been
greatly pleased with it for a few hours. It is a rairror that reflects
the deformity of the human mind to whomsoever will look into it.
" Dudley is with me. He returned about a month ago from our
Springs, and I think he has benefited by the waters. He returns
your salutation most cordially. We have been lounging a la Virgini-
anne, at the house of a friend, about a day and a half's ride off. In
a few days I shall return to the sarae neighborhood, not in pussuit of
pleasure, but pursued by ennui."

CHAPTEE VIII.
DYING, SIR — ^DYING,
The session of Congress which terminated the 4th of March, 1817,
presents nothing of much public interest. The most remarkable act
of the session is the compensation law, as it was called, by which
members voted themselves a fixed salary for their services, instead of
the usual per diem allowance.
Mr. Eandolnh's half brother, Henry St. George Tucker, was a

90 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
member of this Congress. On his way to Washington he was upset
in the stage — had his shoulder dislocated, and in other respects was
much injured. So soon as the news of this accident reached him,
Mr. Eandolph hastened tq^ the bedside of his brother, and on his
return to Washington wrote the following letter :
" I have been very unwell since I left you, but not in consequence
of my journey to your bedside. On the contrary I believe I am the
better for it in every respect. A wide gulf has divided us, of time
and place and circumstance. Our lot has been different, very differ
ent indeed. I am ' the last of the family ' — of my family at least — .
and I am content that in ray person it should become extinct. In
the rapid progress of time and of events, it will quickly disappear
from the eye of observation, and whatsoever of applause or disgrace
it may have acquired in the eyes of man, will weigh but little in the
estimation of Hira by whose doora the everlasting misery j>r happi
ness of our condition is to be irrevocably fixed. ' We are indeed
clay in the potter's hands.' "
Mr. Eandolph's health during this winter was jrretched in the
extreme ; more especially towards the close. The reader is already
aware of his determination " to wash his hands of politics '' — ^he had
announced to his friends that be would not be a candidate again for
Congress. On Saturday night, February Sth, he wrote to Dr.
Dudley —
. " Your letter of the 2d was put into ray hands this morning, just
as I was about to make my last dying speech." The next Tuesday.
he says — " I scribbled a few lines to you on Saturday evening last,
at which time I was laboring under the effects of fresh cold, taken
in going to and coming from the House, where I delivered my valedic«
tory. It was nearer being, than I then imagined, a valedictory to this
world. That night, and the next day and night, I hung suspended
between two worlds, and had a much nearer glimpse than I have ever
yet taken of the other.
" That I have written this letter with effort will be apparent from
the face of it. I am not ashamed to confess that it has cost me some
bitter tears — but they are not the tears of remorse. They flow from
the workings of a heart known only to Him unto whom the prayers
and the groans of the miserable ascend. I feel that in this world I
am alone — that all ray efforts (ill-judged and misdirected I am wil
ling to allow they must have been) have proved abortive. What
remains of my life must be spent in a cold and heartless intercourse
with mankind, compared with which the solitude of Eobinson Crusoe
was bliss. I have no longer a friend. Do not take this unkindly, for
it is not meant so. On this sulsjeot. as well as on some others, per

DYING, SIR— DYING. 91
haps, I have been an enthusiast — ^but I know neither how to concili
ate the love nor to command the esteem of mankind ; and like the
officious ass in the fable, must bear the blows inflicted on my pre
sumption. May God bless you, my brother. You have found the
peace of this world. May you find that of the world to come, which
passeth all understanding. If it be his good pleasure, we may meet
again ; if not in this life, in life everlasting, where all misunderstand
ing and misinterpretation shall be at an end ; and the present delu
sions of self appear in their proper and vile deformity, and the busy
cares and sorrows which now agitate and distress us seem more trivial
than the tears of infancy — succeeded, not by transient, but everlast
ing sunshine of the heart. Amen, and so let it be.
John Eandolph of Eoanoke.
Jan. 21, 1817. Tuesday
Swia.ny morning. — I have been reading Lear these two days, and
incline to prefer it to all Shakspeare's plays. In that and Timon only,
it has been said, the bard was in earnest. Eead both — the first espe
cially, Tuesday, Feb. \%th. — " I had hardly finished my last letter (Sun
day the 1 6th) to you, when I was seized by spasms that threatened
soon to terminate all my earthly cares ; although the two nights since
have been passed almost entirely without sleep, I am rauch better,"
Sunday, February 23(^.— " The worst night that I have had since
my indisposition commenced. It was, I believe, a case of croup, com
bined with the affection of the liver and the lungs. Nor was it un
like tetanus, since the muscles of the neck and back were rigid, and
the jaw locked. I never expected, when the clock struck two, to
hear the bell again ; fortunately, as I found myself going, I dispatched
a servant (about one) to the apothecary for an ounce of laudanum.
Some of this poured down my throat, through my teeth, restored me
to something like life. I was quite delirious, but had method in ray
madness ; for they tell me I ordered Juba to load ray gun and to
shoot the first " doctor" that should enter the room; adding, they are
only mustard seed, and will serve just to sting him. Last night I
was again very sick ; but the anodyne relieved me. I am now per
suaded that I might have saved myself a great deal of suffering by
the moderate use of opium. This day week, when racked with cramps
and spasms, my " doctors" (I had two) prescribed (or rather, admin
istered) half a glass of Madeira. Half a drop of rain water would
have been as efficient. On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I
attended the House ; brought out the first day by the explosion of
the motion to repeal the internal taxes ; and the following days by
some other circumstances that I will not now relate. Knocked up
completely by the exertion, instead of recalling my physicians, I took
my own case boldly in hand ; took one and a half grains of calomel j

92 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
on Tuesday night and yesterday using mercurial friction. The liver
is again performing its functions, and I am, this evening, decidedly
better than I have been since the first attack, which I may date from
my fall at Mr. T.'s, on Tuesday, the 21st of January. From that pe
riod, the operations of the liver have been irregular and disturbed.
I conceive the lungs to be affected by sympathy, with the other viscus.
I have taken from £ve to ten grains of the hypercarbonated natron
every day, rnost generally five grains, in a tablespoonful of new milk,
sometimes repeating the dose at night. My drink has been slippery
elm tea and lemonade. Appetite for acids very strong. Severe
p^ins in the fasciae of the legs and the tendons, just above the outer
ankle bone ; also, knees, &c. I have taken, from the first, a pill of
one and a half grains of calomel about two, sometimes three times a
week ; and several doses of Cheltenham salts. I have used the vola
tile liniment for my throat and limbs ; also, gargles of sage tea. bo
rax, &c.
Mrs. John M., Mrs. B., and Mrs. F. K., have been very kind in
sending me jellies, lemons, &c., &c. Thomas M. N. has been ex
tremely attentive and obliging. Mr. K. of New York, Mr. Chief
Justice, Mr. H. of Maryland, Mr. M. of South Carolina, Mr. B. of
Georgetown, (I need not name Frank Key,) M. (no longer Abbe) C.
de S., and D., have been very kind in their attentions. Mr. M. sent
.me some old, choice Madeira, and his man cook to dress my rice (a
mystery not understood any where on this side of Cape Fear river),
sending also the rice to be dressed ; and Mr. Chief Justice came to
assist me in drawing up my will — which I had strangely and crimi
nally neglected for sorae time past, and of which neglect I was more
strangely admonished in a dream."
About this time, says Mr. Wra. H. Eoane, who was a member of
Congress from Virginia during the session of 1816-17, "I remem
ber that one morning Mr. Lewis came into the House of Eepre
sentatives and addressed Mr. Tyler and myself, who were the youngest
raerabers from Virginia, and said we must go to Georgetown to Mr.
Eandolph. We asked for what ; he said that Mr. Eandolph had told
him that he was determined not to be buried as beau Dawson had
been, at the public expense, and he had selected us young bloods to
come to him and take charge of his funeral. We went over imme
diately. When we entered Mr. Eandolph's apartments he was in
his morning gown. He rose and shook us by the hand. On our in
quiries after his health, he said, ' Dying ! dying I dying ! in a dread
ful state.' He inquired what was going on in Congress. We told
him that the galleries were filling with people of the District, and

DYING, SIR— DYING. 93
that there was considerable excitement on the re-chartering of the
Batch of banks in the District. He then broke off and commenced
upon another subject, and pronounced a glowing eulogium upon the
character and talents of Patrick Henry. After sitting for some time,
and nothing being said on the business on which we had been sent to
him, we rose and took our leave. When we got to the door, I said,
' I wish, Mr. Eandolph, you could be in the House to-day' He shook
his head — ' Dying, sir, dying !' When we had got back to the T[ouse
of Eepresentatives, Mr. Lewis came in and asked how we had found
Mr. Eandolph. We laughed and said as well as usual — that we had
spent a very pleasant morning with him, and been much amused by
his conversation. Scarcely a raoraent after, Mr. Lewis exclaimed,
' There he is !' and there to be sure he was. He had entered by
another door, having arrived at the Capitol almost as soon as we did.
In a few moments he rose and commenced a speech, the first sentence
of which I can repeat verbatim. — ' Mr. Speaker,' said he, ' this is
Shrove Tuesday. Many a gallant eock has died in the pit on this
day, and I have come to die in the pit also.' He then went on with
his speech, and after a short time turned and addressed the crowd of
* hungry expectants,' as he called them — tellers, clerks, and porters in
the gallery."
Mr. Eandolph left Washington the day after Mr. Monroe's inau
guration. " No mitigation of my cruel symptoms took place until
the third day of my journey, when I threw physic to the dogs, and
instead of opium, tincture of columbo, hypercarbonate of soda, &c.,
&e., I drank, in defiance of my physician's prescription, copiously of
cold spring water, and ate plentifully of ice. Since that change of re
gimen my strength has increased astonishingly, and I have even
gained some flesh, or rather, skin. The first day, Wednesday the Sth,
I could travel no farther than Alexandria. At Dumfries, where I
lay, but slept not, on Thursday night, T had nearly given up the ghost.
At a spring, five miles on this side, after csossing Chappawamsick, I
took, upon an empty and sick stomach, upwards of a pint of living
water, unmixed with Madeira, which I have not tasted since. It was
the first thing that I had taken into my stomach Since the first of Feb
ruary that did not produce nausea. It acted like a charm, and enabled
me to get on to B.'s that night, where I procured ice. I also devoured
with impunity a large pippin (forbidden fruit to me). Next day I

94 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
got to the Oaks, forty-two miles. Here I was more unwell than tho
night before. On Sunday morning I reached my friends, Messrs. A.
& Co., to breakfast, at half past eight."
On the road between the Boiling Green and Fredericksburg,
he came up with the stage with Mr. Eoane and other members of
Congress on their homeward journey. As he drew up his phaeton
along side the stage, Mr. Eoane called out, " How are you, Mr. Ean
dolph ?" " Dying, sir, dying !" and then dashed off and out travelled
the stage.
He was, indeed, much nearer dying than his friends imagined.
Shortly after his arrival in Eichmond he was taken very ill, and lay
for many weeks utterly prostrate and helpless at the house of Mr.
Cunningham, in that city. In after years he often recuritd to this
period as the time of his greatest prostration. March 3d, 1824, he
says, " You have no idea how very feeble I am. I crawled yesterday
to P. Thompson's bookseller's shop, butcould not get back afoot.
The vis vitse has not been lower with me since the spring of 1817.
How well I recollect this very day of that year !"

CHAPTEE IX.
CONVERSION.
For a long tirae the state of Mr. Eandolph's health was such that he
confined himself entirely at home, and even ceased correspondence
with his friends, which at all times constituted his principal source of
enjoyment. His first attempt was the following letter addressed to
his friend Key ; Roanoke, Feb. 9, 1818.
Dear Frank : A long' while ago I wrote to you in reply to the
only letter that I have received for many, many months. I know
that you have something better to do than to be seribbling to me f
but I beg you to take my case into your special consideration. I am
as much out of the world as if I were in Kamtschatka or Juan Fer
nandez — ^without a single neighbor, confined by ray infirmities often
to the house, and disabled by them from attending to ray affairs,
which might give me amusement and eraployraent at the same time;

CONVERSION. 95
The state of raanners around rae cannot be paralleled, I believe, on
the face of the earth — all engaged with unremitting devotion in the
worship of " The least erected spirit
That fell from heaven."
This pursuit I know to be general throughout the land, and, indeed,
I fear throughout the world ; but elsewhere it is tempered by the
spirit of society, and even by a love of ostentation or of pleasure.
Here it reigns undivided. There is no intercourse but of business ;
and a man who will ride more miles for a shilling than a post-boy,
will hardly go one to visit a sick neighbor. * * * * I am afraid you
will consider the foregoing as no proof of what 1" am about to add ;
but let rae assure you that there is nothing personal between these
" poor rich men" and rae ; on the contrary, I feel toward them only
pity and good will, and let no occasion pass without manifesting the
latter disposition.
I think that the state of solitude and dereliction in wnioh I am^
placed, has not been without some good effect in giving me better
views than I have had of the most important of all subjects ; and I
would not exchange it, comfortless as it is, for the heartless inter
course of the world. I know that " if a man says he loves God, and
hates his brother, he is a liar;" but I do not hate my brethren of the
human family. I fear, howeve.r, that I cannot love them as I ought.
But God, I hope and trust, will in his good time put better disposi
tions into my heart. There are few of them, I am persuaded, more
undeserving of love than I am.
March 2, Every day brings with it new evidences of my weak
ness and utter inability, of myself, to do any good thing, or even to
conceive a single good thought. With the unhappy father in the
Gospel, I cry out, " Lord ! I believe, help thou raine unbelief"
When I think of the goodness, and wisdom, and power of God, I seem,
in my own eyes, a devil in all but strength. I say this to you, who
will not ascribe it to affected humility. Sometimes I have better
views, but again I am weighed down to the very earth, or lost in a
labyrinth of doubts and perplexities. The hardness of my own
heart grieves and astonishes me. Then, again, I settle down in a
state of coldness and indifference, which is worse than alL But the
quivering of our frail flesh, often the effect of physical causes, cannot
detract from the mercy of our Creator, and to him I commit myself
'f Thy will be done !"
M  does not " give me all the news,'' nor, indeed, any for a
long time past. At the commenceraent of the session of Congress, he
wrote pretty frequently, and through hira I heard of you. It would
delight me very much to spend a few weeks with you, I would even
try to be an usher in your school. [Mr. Key was teaehing- hia own

96 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
children.] At least, I could teach the younger children to read.
Give my love to them all, and to their mother. I had a sister once,
and I never think of her without being reminded of Mrs. Key.
I have not read Cunningham's poem. Is it the author of " The
Velvet Cushion ?" I have lately met with an entertaining work from
the pen of an English Jacobin, Hazlitt's Character of Shakspeare ;
and have tried to read Coleridge's Literary Life. There are fine pas
sages, but his mysticisra is too deep for me. I have seen, too, a ro
mance, called the Life of Patrick Henry — a wretched piece of fus
tian. I have not turned entirely a savage, although a raan of the
woods, and almost wild. Bodily motion seems to be some relief to
mental uneasiness, and I was delighted yesterday morning to hear
that the snipes are come. On this subject of mental malady, it ap
pears that madness is almost epidemic among us. Many cases have
appeared in Petersburg and elsewhere. In this county we had a
preacher of the Methodist sect (not itinerant), a man of excellent
character and very good sense. He was generally esteemed, and al
though quite poor, by the aid of a notable wife lived neatly and com
fortably. Last winter the clerk of our county died, and this preacher,
by diligent canvass, got the place by one vote, in a court of more than
twenty magistrates. From the time that he comraenced his canvass
his manners changed. A still further change was perceptible after
he got the office ; and -a few weeks ago he got quite insane. His
friends set off with him on a journey to Georgia. But the first night
he gave them the slip, and is supposed to have drowned himself I
heard yesterday that a party were out seeking for him. He had taken
laudanum for the purpose of suicide, but his stomach would not re
tain it. Some ascribe his malady to remorse, others to the effects of
sudden prosperity. This county seems to labor under a judgment.
It has been conspicuous for the order and raorality of the inhabit
ants ; and such is the general character, I hope, yet. But within
two or three years past it has been the theatre of criraes of the
deepest atrocity. Within a few raonths there have occurred two in
stances of depravity, the most shocking that can be conceived. But
I ara giving you a county history, instead of a letter. Farewell, my
dear friend ; while I have life I am yours. Richmond, April 29, 1818.
Dear Frank — On my arrival here the day before yesterday, I
found the picture and the picture-frame which poor L. left for me.
Wood has again failed, but not so entirely as at first. It is you
in some of your humors, but neither your serious nor more cheerful
face. It shall hang, however, near ray bed, and I hope will prove a
benefit as well as a pleasure to me. My love to Mrs. Key. I hope

CONVERSION. 97
she has presented you with a better likeness of yourself than any
painter can draw. If I could envy you, I should covet one of your
boys, and. perhaps, one of your girls too, if I were not so old.
I have " read Manfred," and was overpowered by the intense
misery of the writer. Unless he shall seek refuge above, where alone it
is to be found, it is to be feared madness, perhaps suicide, is his portion.
It created in me the strongest interest for the unhappy author, and I
actually projected writing him a letter, such a one as could have dis
pleased no man, and raight, perhaps, have done good. The air of pre-
suraption which such a step raight carry with it raade me drop the
" notion." I have long been satisfied in ray own mind respecti;ag the princi
pies, political, moral, and religious, of the journal you mention. I
suspect Franklin's were not very different. I am gratified, however,
^t this castigation of that caricature of a caricature, Phillips. He
" out-Currans" Curran.
I do not take, but shall order the Christian Observer. I have
seen many of the numbers, and found thera admirable.
" Fare thee well, and if for ever,
Still for ever fare thee well."
I regret the stifling of your poetical bantling. Can't you send me
some of the " disjecta membra ?" There is no need of a bottle of spirits
of wine to preserve them in apothecary fashion. On reaching this
place, I found my poor nephew, who has been a tenant of the man
sion that inspired your muse. Sir P. Francis is not Junius, the
reviewer to the contrary notwithstanding.
On his return from Eichmond, Mr. Eandolph sank down into the
deepest melancholy ; some even allege that it amounted to an aberra
tion of mind — to positive delirium The reader is aware that for years
previous to this time, the deepest gloom, lasting raany days in succes
sion, overshadowed his raind, evincing the existence of sorae corroding
care, for which he neither sought, nor would receive, any sympathy.
The subject of religion had become the all-absorbing therae
of his meditations. God, freedom, and immortality ; sin, death, and
the grave ; Christ, redemption, and free grace, are " high matters,''
well calculated, at any time, to disturb the strongest intellect.
But when we come to consider the solitude in which he lived,
the emaciated condition of his delicate frame, worn down by long and
torturing disease, the irritable state of his nervous system — "he was
almost like a man without a skin" — the constant and sleepless excite
ment of his mental faculties and of his brilliant imagination induced
by this morbid irritability ; when we throw ourselves into his eondi-
vol. IL 5

98 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
tion, and conceive of the-crowd of burning thoughts that pressed upon
his mind, pass in melancholy review the -mariy friends that had been
torn from him by the hand of death, the many who had forgotten him
and forsaken him as a fallen man, no longer serviceable to them ; call to
remembrance that his own father's house was desolate, St. George in
the mad-house, hiraself, like Logan, alone in his cabin, without a drop
of his father's blood save that which coursed in his own well-nigh ex
hausted veins ; and, above all, when we call to reraerabrance his first,
his youthful, and his only love, which is said to have greatly revived
in his mind at this time with the painful yet hallowed associations
that clustered around its cherished raeraory, who can wonder that a
raan, with the temperament of John Eandolph, under these circum
stances should fling away all restraint, and should cry aloud in the
anguish of his soul, and should so act and speak as to excite the
astonishment of those around, and induce them to believe that he
was a madman ! In a similar situation Da.vid was a madman ; Byron
was a madman ; Eousseau — all high-souled, deep-feeling men of
genius, in the eye of the world were madmen.
Dr. Dudley says, that for many weeks his conduct towards him
self, who was the only inmate of his household, had been marked by
contumelious indignities, which required almost heroic patience to
endure, even when aided by a warm and affectionate d'evotion, and an
anxious wish to alleviate the agonies of such a mind. All hope of
attaining this end, he says, finally failed, and he announced to Mr.
Eandolph his determination no longer to remain with him. Mr.
Eandolph then addressed him the following letter, so full of affec
tion and tenderness, that it shows his best friends did not understand
him, and that in his dark days of horror, when caprice and petulance
marked his conduct they did hira a cruel injustice by supposing that
the harsh expression or extravagant conduct, forced out by the an
guish of his soul, was really intended as a preraeditated injury to
their feelings. "August, 1818.
" I consider myself under obligations to you that I can never re
pay. I have considered you as a blessing sent to me by Providence,
in my old age, to repay the desertion of my other friends and nearer
connections. It is in your power (if you please) to repay me all the
debt_ of gratitude that you insist upon being due to me ; although I
consider myself, in a pecuniary point of view, largely a gainer by

CONVERSION. 99
our connection. But if you are unwilling to do so, I must be content
to give up ray last stay upon earth ; for I shall, in that case, send the
boys to their parents. Without you, I cannot live here at all, and
will not. What it is that has changed your manner towards me, I
cannot discover. I have ascribed it to the disease (hypochondriasis)
by which you are afflicted, and which affects the mind and temper, as
well as the animal faculties. In your principles, I have as unbounded
confidence as I have in those of any man on earth. Your disinterest
edness, integrity, and truth, would extort my esteem and respect, even
if I were disposed to withhold them. I love you as ray own son — would
to God you were ! I see, I think, into your heart — mine is open
before you, if you will look into it. Nothing could ever eradicate
this affection, which surpasses that of any other person (as I believe)
on earth. Your parents have other children — I have only you.
But I see you wearing out your time and wasting away in this desert,
where you have no society such as your time of life, habits, and taste
require. I have looked at you often engaged in contributing to my
advantage and comfort, with tears in my eyes, and thought I was self
ish and cruel in sacrificing you to my interest. I am going from
home ; will you take care of my affairs until I return ? I ask it as a
favor. It is possible that we may not meet again ; but, if I get more
seriously sick at the springs than I am now, I will send for you, un
less you will go with rae to the White Sulphur Springs. Wherever
I am, my heart will love you as long as it beats. From your boy
hood I have not been lavish of reproof upon you. Eecollect my
past life."
Mr. Eandolph set out on his journey to the Springs — spent some
days in Lynchburg — went as far as Bottetourt County — ascended
the Peaks of Otter, the highest point of the Blue Eidge Mountains
in Virginia — and then returned home to Eoanoke. There seems to
have been a total change in his mind about this time. From the
deepest gloom and despondency, he seems to have attained clearness
and satisfaction on the subject of religion. He said they'wanted him
to go to the Springs, but he had found a spring here, on this hill (Eoa
noke), more efficacious — a well — a fountain of living waters. He
thus writes to Mr. Key : Roanoke, Sept. 7, 1818.
Congratulate me, dear Frank — wish me joy you need not ; give
it you cannot — I am at last reconciled to my God, and have assur
ance of his pardon, through faith in Christ, against which the very
gates of hell cannot prevail. Pear hath been driven out by perfect
love. I now know that you know how I feel ; and within a month,

100 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
for the first time I understand your feelings and character, and that
of every real Christian. Love to Mrs. Key and your brood.
I am not now afraid of being " righteous overmuch," or ol
" Methodistical notions." Thine, in Truth, J. E. OF E. '
Let Meade know the glad tidings, and let him, if he has kepi it
read and preserve my letter to him from Eichmond years ago.
He thus writes to Dr. Brockenbrough : September 25.
My GOOD Friend, — I am sorry that Quashee should intrude
upon you unreasonably. The old man, I suppose, knows the pleasure
I take in your letters, and therefore feels anxious to procure his raas
ter the gratification. I cannot, however, express sorrow— for I do
not feel it — at the impression which you tell rae ray last letter made
upon you. May it lead to the same happy consequences that I have
experienced — which I now feel — in that sunshine of the lieart,
which the peace of G!I1, that passeth all understanding, alone can
bestow !
Your imputing such sentiments to a heated imagination does not
surprise me, who have been bred in the school of Hobbs and Bayle,
and Shaftesbury and BoHngbroke, and Hume and Voltaire and Gib
bon ; who have cultivated the skeptical philosophy frora my vain
glorious boyhood — 1 might almost say childhood — and who have felt
all that unutterable disgust which hypocrisy and cant and fanaticism
never fail to excite in raen of education and refinement, superadded
to our natural repugnance to Christianity. I ara not, even now, in
sensible to this impression ; but as the excesses of her friends (real
or pretended) can never alienate the votary of liberty from a free
form of government, and enlist him under the banners of despot
ism, so neither can the cant of fanaticism, or hypocrisy, or of both
(for so far frora being incompatible, they are generally found united
in the same character — may God in his mercy preserve and defend
us from both) disgust the pious with true religion.
Mine has been no sudden change of opinion. I can refer to a
record, showing, on my part, a desire of more than nine years' standing,
to partake of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper ; although, for two-
and-twenty years preceding, ray feet had never crossed the threshold
of the house of prayer. This desire I was restrained frora indulging,
by the fear of eating and drinking unrighteously. And although
that fear hath been cast out by perfect love, I have never yet gone to
the altar, neither have I been present at the performance of divine ser
vice, unless indeed I may so call my reading the liturgy of our church,

CONVERSION. 101
and some chapters of the Bible to ray poor negroes on Sundays. Such
passages as I think require it, and which I feel competent to explain,
I comment upon — enforcing as far as possible, and dwelling upon,
those texts especially that enjoin the indispensable accompaniment
of a good life as the touchstone of the true faith. The Sermon from
the Mount, and the Evangelists generally ; the Epistle of Paul to the
Ephesians, chap. vi. ; the General Epistle of James, and the First
Epistle of John ; these are my chief texts.
The consummation of my conversion — I use the word in its
strictest sense — is owing to a variety of causes, but chiefly to the con
viction, unwillingly forced upon me, that the very few friends which
an unprosperous life (the fruit of an ungovernable temper) had left
rae were daily losing their hold upon me, in a firmer grasp of am
bition, avarice, or sensuality. I am not sure that, to complete the
anti-climax, avarice should not have been last ; for although, in some
of its effects, debauchery be more disgusting than avarice, yet, as it
regards the unhappy victim, this last is more to be dreaded. Dissi
pation, as well as power or prosperity, hardens the heart ; but avarice
deadens it to every feeling but the thirst for riches. Avarice alone
could have produced the slave-trade ; avarice alone can drive, as it
does drive, this infernal traffic, and the wretched victims of it, like so
many post-horses, whipped to death in a mail-coach. Ambition has
its reward in the pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war ; but
where are the trophies of avarice? — the handcuff, the manacle, and
the blood-stained cowhide ? What man is worse received in society
for being a hard master ? Every day brings to light some H — — -e
or H  ns in our own boasted land of liberty ! Who denies the
hand of a sister or daughter to such monsters ? Nay, they have even
appeared in " the abused shape of the vilest of women." I say
nothing of India, or Amboyna, of Cortez or Pizarro.
When I was last in your town I was inexpressibly shocked (and
perhaps I am partly indebted to the circumstance for accelerating my
emancipation) to hear, on the threshold of the temple of the least
erect of all the spirits that fell from heaven, these words spoken, by
a man second to none in this nation in learning or abilities ; one, too,
whom I had, not long before, seen at the table of our Lord and
Saviour : " I do not want the Holy Ghost (I shudder while I write),
or any other spirit in me. If these doctrines are true (St. Paul's),
there was no need for Wesley and Whitfield to have separated from
the church. The Methodists are right, and the church wrong. I
want to see the old church," &c. &c. : that is, such as this diocese was
under Bishop Terrick, when wine-bibbing and buck-parsons were sent
out to preach " a dry clatter of morality," and not the word of God,
for 16,000 lbs. of tobacco. When I speak of morality it is not as
condemning it ; religion includes it, but much more. Day is now

102 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
breaking and I shall extinguish my candles, which are better than no
light ; or if I do not, in the presence of the powerful king of day
they will be noticed only by the dirt and ill savor that betray all
human contrivances, the taint of humanity. Morality is to the Gospel
not even as a farthing rushlight to the blessed sun.
By the way, this term Methodist in religion is of vast corapass
and effect, like tory in politics, or aristocrate in Paris, " with the
lamp-post for its second," some five or six-and-twenty years ago.
Dr Hoge? " a Methodist parson." Frank Key? " a fanatic," (I
heard him called so not ten days ago,) "a Methodistical, whining, &c.,
&c." Wilberforce ?" a Methodist." Mrs. Hannah More ?" ditto"
It ought never to be forgotten, that real converts to Christianity on
opposite sides of the globe agree at the same moment to the same
facts. Thus Dr. Hoge and Mr. Key, although strangers, understand
perfectly what each other feels and believes.
If I were to show a MS. in some unknown tongue to half a dozen
persons, strangers to each other and natives of different countries,
and they should all give me the same translation, could I doubt their
acquaintance with the strange language ? On the contrary, can I,
who am but a smatterer in Greek, believe an interpreter who pretends
to a knowledge of that tongue, and yet cannot tell the meaning of
TUTTTO) ?
I now read with relish and understand St. Paul's epistles, which
not long since I could not comprehend, even with the help of Mr.
Locke's paraphrase. Taking up, a few days ago, at an " ordinary,"
the life of John Bunyan, which I had never before read, I find an
exact coincidence in our feelings and opinions on this head, as well
as others. Very early in life I imbibed an absurd prejudice in favor of
Mahoraedanism and its votaries. The crescent had a talisraanio
effect on my imagination, and I rejoiced in all its triumphs over the
cross (whicll I despised) as I mourned over its defeats ; and Mahomet
II., himself did not raore exult than I did, when the crescent was
planted on the dome of St. Sophia, and the cathedral of the Con-
stantines was converted into a Turkish mosque. To this very day I
feel the effects of Peter Eandolph's Zanga on a temper naturally im
patient of injury, but insatiably vindictive under insult.
On the night that I wrote last to you I scribbled a pack of non
sense to Eootes, which serves^ only to show the lightness of my heart.
About the same time, in reply to a question from a friend, I raade the
following remarks, which, as I was weak from long vigilance, I re
quested him to write down, that I might, when at leisure, copy it into
my diary From it you will gather pretty accurately the state of my
mind. I
I havo been up long before day, and write with pain, from a sense

CONVEU.'iiDN. 103
of duty to you aud Mrs, B,, in whose welfare I take the most earnest
concern. You have my prayers : give rae yours, I pray you.
Adieu ! John Eandolph of Eoanoke.
I was on the top of the pinnacle of Otter this day fortnight : a
little above the earth, but how far beneath heaven !
" Note. — It is my business to avoid giving offence to the world,
especially in all raatters merely indifferent. I shall therefore stick
to my old uniform, blue and buff, unless God sees fit to change it for
black. I must be as attentive to my dress, and to household affairs,
as far as cleanliness and comfort are concerned, as ever, and indeed
more so. Let us take care to drive none away frora God by dress
ing religion in the garb of fanaticisra. Let us exhibit her as she is,
equally reraoved from superstition and lukewarmness. But we must
take care, that while we avoid one extreme we fall not into the other ;
no matter which. I was born and baptized in the Church of Eng
land. If I attend the Convention at Charlottesville, which I rather
doubt, I shall oppose myself then and always to every atterapt at
encroachment on the part of the church, the clergy especially, on the
rights of conscience. I attribute, in a very great degree, my long
estrangement from God to my abhorrence of prelatical pride and
puritanical preciseness ; to ecclesiastical tyranny, whether Eoman
Catholic or Protestant ; whether of Henry V, or Henry VIII ; of
Mary or Elizabeth ; of John Knox or Archbishop Laud ; of the
Cameronians of Scotland, the Jacobins of France, or the Protestants
of Ireland. Should I fail to attend, it will arise from a repugnance
GO submit the religion, or church, any raore than the liberty of my
country, to foreign influence. When I speak of my country, I mean
the Commonwealth of Virginia. I was born in allegiance to George
III. ; the Bishop of London ( Terrick !) was my diocesan. My an
cestors threw off the oppressive yoke of the mother country, but they
never made me subject to New England in matters spiritual or tem
poral ; neither do I mean to become so, voluntarily."
Mr. Key, on getting the news of his friend's conversion, responded
in this wise : —
"I do, indeed, my dear friend, rejoice with you — I have long
wished, and often believed with confidence, that you would experience
what God has now blessed you with. I need not tell you (if I could)
of its value, for I trust you feel it to be ' unspeakable.' May the
grace that has brought you frora ' darkness to light,' from ' death to
life,' keep you forever !
" Nor do I rejoice merely on your own account or mine. The

104 LUE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
wonders that God is every where doing show us that these are no or
dinary times, and justify us in hoping and expecting for greater mani
festations of his power and goodness. You stand on an eminence—
' let your light shine' brightly, that all may see it — steadily, that they
may know whence it coraes, and ' glorify your Father which is in
heaven.' " Write to me often and particularly ; ' out of the abundance of the
heart the mouth speaketh ;' and may I always hear that you are fol
lowing the guidance of that blessed Spirit that will ' lead you into all
truth,' leaning on that Almighty arm that has been extended to deliver
you, trusting only in the only Saviour, and ' going on' in your way to
him ' rejoicing.'

CHAPTEE X.
IDIOSYNCRACIES,
A QUICK, intuitive understanding, a vivid imagination, an irritable
temper, superadded to an extremely delicate and diseased constitu
tion, produced a complicated character in John Eandolph, that ren
dered him remarkably sensitive to outward influences. He was,
indeed, a creature of impulse, influenced for the tirae being by the cir
cumstances by which he was surrounded. Things that could produce
no impression on men of less delicate sensibility, would affect him
most seriously. An east wind, that could produce no impression on
the cold, ph.egmatic temperament of Dr. Johnson, operated on the
nerves of John Eandolph like a sirocco of the desert. He was gen
erally disposed to look on the dark side of the picture, to imagine the
worst, and suffer intensely frora an anticipation of what might never
happen So long as he lived in solitude, unaffected by the influences of the
busy world, his mind dwelt for the most part on religious subjects ;
but when again thrown into the excited arena of political strife, he per
ceived so clearly, by a sort of intuition as it were, the lowest intrigues
of party politicians, felt so intensely the meanness and baseness of
their trafficking purposes, that he was often betrayed into a harshness
of expression and an extravagance of behavior, that might lead one
unacquainted with his peculiar temperament to suppose that he was

' IDIOSYNCRACIES. IO5
a man of a vindictive and unfeeling temper that delighted in the tor
ture of others, while he was hiraself uninfluenced by a moral or reli
gious restraint of any kind. No man was more conscious than he
of this peculiarity of his nature, or more deeply deplored its conse
quences. The reader will perceive, through all his correspondence,
that he did not conceal from his friends these deformities of charac
ter, and that he never relaxed in earnest efforts — however useless
they may have proved— to overcome and to correct the unfortunate
deficiencies of his nature.
During the present year (1819) there was a general pecuniary em
barrassment and distress in the country. Mr. Eandolph lost a large
sum of money deposited in the hands of a mercantile firm in Eich
mond. He is said to have been deeply affected by this occurrence,
and, as might have been expected, spoke in harsh terms of the delin
quent merchants.
Frequent allusion is made to the subject in the following corres
pondence, though religion is the principal theme.
Richmond, May 3, 1819. — Sunday.
Dear Frank : — -It is so long since I heard from you that I almost
begin to think that you have struck me out of your books. I had,
however, the gratification to hear of you through Mr. Meade, whom
I had not the good fortune to see as he passed through this town,
having left it on the day of his arrival. You have no conception
of the gloom and distress that pervade this place. There has been
nothing like it since 1785, when, frora the same causes (paper raoney
and a general peace) there was a general depression of every thing.
It seems to rae, my dear friend, that in the present instance we are
punished in the offending member, if I may so express myself We
have been the devoted worshippers of mammon, and in our darling
wealth we are made to suffer. May it be the means of opening our
eyes to the folly and sinfulness of our past conduct, and of inducing
us to lay up treasure where raoth corrupteth not and thieves do not
break in and steal.
Very contrary -to my judgment, and yet more against my feelings,
I am again a public man. The application was made in a way that I
could not with propriety resist. I was called upon (among other con
siderations) to " redeem a pledge " and to prevent a contest for the
Eepresentation of the District. My views upon the subject of pub
lic affairs, as well as other matters, are far other than they have been.
I now see in its full deformity the wickedness of Paijty Spirit, of
VOL. II. 5*

106 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
which I was so long a votary, and I look forward to the next winter
with no other pleasant anticipation but that of seeing you.
Poor H  n ! He is gone, I see, to his account. I heard with
much gratification that he had been long engaged in serious prepara
tion for this awful change. How poor and pitiful now seem all the
angry and malevolent feelings of which he was the author or the
object ! My dear Frank, what is there in this world to satisfy the
cravings of an imraortal nature ? I declare to you that the business
and pleasures of it seem to me as of no more consequence than the
game of push-pin that occupies the little negroes at the corner of the
street. Do not misunderstand me, my dear friend. My life (I am
ashamed to confess it) does not correspond with my belief I have
made a vile return for the goodness which has been manifested to
wards me — ^but I still cling to the cross of my Ecdeemer, and with
God's aid firmly resolve to lead a life less unworthy of one who calls
hiraself the humble follower of Jesus Christ. I am here on a busi
ness of much consequence to me. It is to draw, if I can, a sum of
money from the hands of a merchant which has been appropriated to
an object which I have long had at heart. I have some fears of
losing it ; but if I do, I have the fullest confidence that I ought ; and
must devise some other provision against the daily nightmare that
has so long oppressed me. You will be at no loss to conjecture the
subject. Since I saw you, I have becorae more infirm and more indolent
than ever. This last is ray besetting sin. My spirits often desert
me, and indeed it is no raatter of wonder ; for a more forlorn and des
titute creature can hardly be found. I have outlived ray relations
and friends, except a few who are far away.
On the subject of his return to Congress, Key replies : —
" You know my opinion about public life — that a raan has no more
right to decline it than to seek it. I do not know, perhaps, all its dangers,
but I have no doubt they are great. But whatever they be, the grace
of God is sufficient for them, and he who enters upon them with a
sole view to his glory, and depends entirely on his grace, will find
' crooked things made straight,' and the mountains made plains be
fore him. Certainly in such a state, a man who lives ' by faith and
not by sight' can evidently serve the cause of religion, and I trust
and pray that thus your light may shine.
" You will indeed be set ' on a bill' Innumerable eyes will be
fastened on you. The men of the world will look for something with
which they may reproach you, and your faith ; while ' the blessed com
pany of all faithful people ' will look to see if they may ' take know
ledge of you, that you have been with Christ ' — may they have to
thank God always for you !'

IDIOSYNCRACIES. 107
" You have no idea what an interest is excited in your behalf among
religious persons. I believe that many a fervent prayer is offered
up for you by people who never saw your face."
To whom thus Eandolph : —
" Your letter has produced a strange and indescribable feeling.
That I, who have long been an object of malevolence or indifference to
most of them that know me, should receive the prayers of strangers !
May God bless all such charitable souls. Perhaps if we were to
gether I could explain the state of my feelings — on paper I find it
out of my power to do so. When I think on Mr. Hoge, our friend
Meade and some others, I am almost driven to despair. To divest
ourselves of our human feelings, is, I know, impossible — neither ha^e
I ever supposed it otherwise. But there are times when they quite
overcome me, and when the chaos of ray mind can be compared with
nothing but the state that poor Cowper was in before he found peace,
or rather after the death of Mrs, Erwin. But at my gloomiest mo
ments, when I think how much less I suffer than I have deserved — ^when
I remember that ' he who bore in heaven the second name had not
on earth whereon to lay his head,' and that he died the death of the
Cross — ^when I think how far my ingratitude to God transcends all
other human ingratitude — the treachery and unthankfulness of man
kind vanish before these considerations, and I cry out, ' not ray will
but thy will be done.' But although I can suffer, I cannot do ; and
my life is running off in indolent speculations upon my duty, instead
of being devoted to its performance. Amidst all these lamentable
failures, however, I hold fast my resolution, with his gracious assist
ance, to put my whole trust in God, to pour out my whole soul in
fervent prayer ; and in his good time he may increase my strength
to wrestle with the temptations that beset me. By the late bank
ruptcies I ara reduced from ease and independence to debt and
straitened circumstances. I have endavored in vain to sell a part of
my property at a reduced price, to meet my engagements.
" I had not heard of M  's death. May our latter end be like
his. Indeed I am here entirely removed from the converse of my
species. I know not what is doing in the world ; but even in this
retreat the groans of the children of mammon sometimes break upon
ray ear. If I cannot arrange my affairs I fear I must resign my seat,
I say " I fear," because I would avoid all appearance of fickleness and
caprice. What you tell me ought to nerve ray resolution. Alas ! it
is in the persons of her friends and from their hands that religion
receives her deadliest wounds. God grant that I may always bear
this in raind, and that this consideration may deter me from much
evil, and spur me on to do good."
August Qth, 1819. — " You have formed too favorablean opinion of

108 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
my state, which too often reminds me of the seed that ' fell upon stony
places.' This is not said out of any affected humility, far worse than
the highest presumption, but from a comparison of the fruit with what
the tree ought to bear.
" Can there be faith even as a grain of mustard seed when such is
the life ? It has pleased God to visit us with the most destructive
drought in the raeraory of any living man. Great apprehensions are
entertained of famine, but I trust that he who feedeth the young
ravens will not suffer us to starve. , Indeed, so far from being over-
careful and troubled about the things of this world, I am culpably
remiss respecting them, and this indolent supineness had led to more
than one evil consequence. I am worn out, body and mind, and the
least exertion, corporeal or intellectual, exhausts me entirely. Even
the writing of this letter will be sensibly felt. Whilst you and others
of my friends are bearing the heat and burthen of the day, I am
languishing in inglorious indolence.
" I am more than satiated with the world. It is to me a fearful
prison-house of guilt and misery. I fear that my feelings towards it
are not always sufficiently charitable ; but an eternity here would be
punishment enough for the worst offenders. Towards the meeting of
Congress I look forward with no agreeable anticipations. lam sen
sible of a great decline of my faculties, not the less injurious from
being premature. In short, I have lost all hope of public service,
and whithersoever I direct my eyes a dark cloud seems to impend.
This gloom is not constitutional. It is the result of sad experience
of myself as well as others. I would not have you think that it is
accompanied by a spirit of repining ; far from it. ' I adore the good
ness and the wisdom of God, and submit myself to his mercy most
implicitly, acknowledging that if he were to deal with me according
to my deserts ' I could not abide it.' My own short-comings are the
sources of my regrets, ' and why call ye me Lord, Lord, and do not
the things that I say?' This, my dear friend, troubles me by day
and by night. 'Tis not what others do, but what I do, or omit, that
annoys me.
" Cases of insanity and suicide (although not so numerous as might
have been expected, judging from the effects of the South Sea and
Mississippi bubbles) have not been unfrequent in this quarter. As
many as three ministers of the gospel, and several other devout
professors, have ended their lives by their own hands. I wish you
had been a little more explicit on the Baltimore matters. There are
many individuals there that I personally wish well to, and would
be glad to hear that they had escaped the general contamination."
" I am sorry," says Key in response, " to observe your despond
ing feelings ; you must fight your way through them. ' Heaviness
may endure for a night, but joy cometh in th© morning.' The Chris-

IDIOSYNCRACIES. 109
tian must always laraent his remaining corruptions, and that the
fruits of his faith correspond so little with what he intends and de
sires. But that he brings forth any fruit is matter of rejoicing, for
it is the work of grace ; and he has cause to be thankful for this very
desire to do better — and he has the consolation of a clear promise
from God that he will not leave his work undone, but that this grace
shall make him ' abound more and more in every good word and
work.' ,
" In the seasons of despondency which I have felt, great relief has
been afforded to my mind by the Psalms. I often eome to passages
that seem to be spoken right at me, and joy and peace were ' shed
abroad in my heart.' I think they would be blessed in the same way
to you. Have you read Miss Taylor's Poems? You may see them
reviewed in the Christian Observer. I send you a Magazine that is
published here, which I hope will be faithfully conducted.
" I would tell you raore of these Baltimore troubles and abomi
nations, but I really know very little about them. I understand the
grand jury, at their late court, have found indictments against many
of them." To which Eandolph replied, August 22d :
" Your, letter of the 16th has just arrived to cheer my solitude.
Acceptable as it is, it would not have been so promptly acknowledged
but for what you say about the Psalms. Once, of all the books of
Holy Writ, they were ray especial aversion ; but, thanks be to God 1
they have long cc^^istituted a favorite portion of that treasure of wis
dom. As you Say, many passages seera written ' right at me.' It
is there that I find my sin and sorrows depicted by a fellow-sinner
and fellow-sufferer ; and there too I find consolation. I chiefly read
the version in <&e Book of Common Prayer, and mine is scored and
marked from one end to the other. ' Why art thou so heavy, 0 my
soul ? and why art thou so disquieted within me ? O put thy trust
in God, for I will yet give him thanks, which is the help of my coun
tenance and my God. "
After making inquiries about many of his old friends, same of
whom, he feared, had gone by the board in tbe general wreck, he thus
continues :
" I d© assure you that I sometimes look back upon old times until
it seems a dream ; but it is a dream that often draws tears in my
eyes. " Miss Key (your uncle Philip's daughter) is, I presume, unmar
ried ; for there was nobody in the district deserving of her, when I
knew it, and she has too much good sense to throw herself away on
flimsy members of Congress or diplomatic adventurers. I often think

110 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH
of the pain I suffered at her father's, raore than eleven years ago ;
of the kindiless and attention I then received. Cripple as I then
thought rayself, I had no forecast that in so short a time I should be
alraost superannuated. My sight is nearly gone, and my memory of
recent events no better. When you see or hear from Mr. Meade,
mention me in the warmest terras of regard and respect. * * * * In
your next I expect a dish of chit-chat. P. S. I wish the first leisure
half hour you light upon you would take up your pen and tell me all
about it. ' About what ?' Why, every thing and every body. There's
that fine fellow, D. M — y, whom you have not once named ; nor J.
G  n, whom, for the life of me, I can hear nothing about — ^whether
he has gone to pieces in the general wreck ? I speak of his fortune,
for my confidence in his principles is unshaken. Then there is your
friend Mr. T.
" You see, Frank, that I am, indeed, growing old, and, like other
dotards, delight in garrulity and gossip. To tell you the truth, I
stay here, and look at the trees until I alraost conceit myself a dryad ;
at least you perceive I am no graramarian."
To Dr. Brockenbrough he speaks more unreservedly on all sub
jects than to any other man. Take the following letters, written
about the same time as those addressed to Mr. Key :
" I was very glad to, learn frora Quashee that you were well enough
to walk the streets when he was in Eichmond, I make it almost a
matter of conscience, notwithstanding, to bore you with my letters ;
but I must beg you to take into consideration that I am cut off from
all intercourse with the rest of the world, and unable to obtain the
slightest inforraation of what is passing in it. It would be a charity
to drop me a line now and then. I have hardly seen a white face
since I got home, until last evening, when Colonel C. showed rae a
letter frora T. asking a discharge from him and his brother and son-
in-law. If I had had any expectations from that quarter, this let
ter would have put an end to them. T. and M. will receive no release
frora me. I will not persecute them ; but their conduct deserves
no indulgence. I had intended to have been in Eichmond ten days
ago, but my health is so deplorably bad that I cannot venture to leave
my own house even for a day ; and it is well for me. Here, then, I
must live, and here I must die, ' a lone and banished man ;' and what
banishment can be worse than his who is ashamed to show his face to
society? I nerve rayself up to bear it as I would to undergo a sur
gical operation ; but the cases are widely different. The one must
soon end in a cure, or in death ; but every succeeding day brings no
relief, but utter aggravation of wretchedness, to the other. These
days, however, God be praised ! must have an end.
" An Enquirer fell into my hands yesterday. What a contrast be-

IDIOSYNCRACIES. HI
tween the universal cry of the country and the testimony of our gra
cious sovereign to our great and increasing prosperity ! You have
them in the same columns. It will make a figure in Europe. Bal
timore seems to have suffered not less than Eichmond. Pray let me
know if S. and B, have failed ; and, if you can, the cause of J. S.
leaving the Bank of Baltimore.
" My best respects to Mrs, B, These glaring long days make me
think of her. I lie in bed as long as I can to shorten them, and
keep my room darkened. Perhaps a strait waistcoat would not be
amiss. Have E. and A. stopped ? Farewell. If we ever meet again,
it must be here. Should I ever get in reach of a ship bound to any
foreign land, I will endeavor to lose sight of this for ever."
To the same :
" I have long been indebted to you for your letter by Mr. Wat
kins, which reminded rae of those which I used to receive from you
some years ago, when I was not so entirely unable as I am now to
make a suitable return to my correspondents. I feel most seriously
this incapacity and deplore it, but for the life of me I cannot rouse
myself to take an interest in the affairs of this ' trumpery world ' as
' the antiquary ' calls it, and with a curious felicity of expression ;
for it is upon a larger scale what a strolling play-house is upon a
smaller, all outside show and tinsel, and frippery, and wretchedness.
There are to be sure a few, a very few, who are what they seem to be.
But this ought to concern rae personally as little as any one ; for
I have no intercourse with those around me. I often mount my
horse and sit upon him ten or fifteen minutes, wishing to go some
where but not knowing where to ride, for I would escape any where
from the incubus that weighs me down, body and soul ; but the fiend
follows me ' ex croupa.' You can have no conception of the intense-
ness of this wretchedness, which in its effect on my mind I can com
pare to nothing but that of a lump of ice on the pulse of the wrist,
which I have tried when a boy. And why do I obtrude all this upon
you ? Because from the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh. I
can be and am silent for days and weeks together, except on indiffe
rent subjects ; but if I address myself to a friend, the misery that
preys upon me will not be suppressed. The strongest considerations
of duty are barely sufficient to prevent me from absconding to some
distant country, where I might live and die unknown. There is a
selfishness in our occupations and pursuits, after the first gloss of
youth has worn off, that hardens us against our fellow-men. This I
now know to be the necessary consequence of our nature, but it is
uot therefore the less revolting I had hoped to divert the gloom that
overhangs me by writing this letter at the instigation of old Quashee,
but I struggle against it in vain. Is it not Dr. Johnson who says
that to attempt ' to think it down is madness ? '

112 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
" Your brother William and myself hit upon the same 4th of July
toast with some variation ; mine was ' State Eights, de mortuis nil
nisi bonum} It will hardly appear in the newspapers. I agree with
you on the subject of the Bankrupt Law, with some shades of differ
ence. I would not have the General Government touch the subject
at all. But some mode I think ought to be devised for setting aside
the present shameful practices : robbing one man to pay another, &c.
After a good deal about the pecuniary embarrassment of the
times, and many friends who were involved in the catastrophe, the
letter thus concludes :
" My best regards to Mrs. B. Tell her I hi,ve road nothing for
six weeks, being ' high gravel blind,' and having nothing to -ead
but old standard authors, who are too solid for my weak stomach
and this hot weather. Adieji ! Yours truly, J. E. OP Eoanoke.
A worn-out man arid pen.

CHAPTEE XI. .
CONGRESS — POLITICAL PARTIES.
After Mr. Eandolph had been in Washington some two or three
weeks, he thus gives the result of his observations to a friend, under
date of the 21st of December, 1819. — " Here I find myself isoU, al
raost as entirely as at Eoanoke, for the quiet of which (although I
left it without a desire ever to see it again) I have sometimes panted ;
or rather, to escape from the scenes around me. Once the object of
proscription, I ara become one of indifference to all around me ; and
in this respect I am in no wise worse off than the rest ; for, from
all that I can see and learn, there are no two persons here that care
a single straw for one another. , My reception is best by the old ja
cobins enragis; next, by the federalists, who have abjured their
heresies and reconciled themselves to the true Catholic Church; worst
of all, by the old minority men, white washed into courtiers."
When Mr. Eandolph returned to Congress in 1819, the relation
of political parties had been entirely changed. The restoration of

POLITICAL PARTIES. Hg
peace put an end to all the questions which had hitherto divided
them. With the exception of the bank — whose chartered existence
commenced in 1791, and closed in 1811 — all the great subjects dis
cussed in the halls of legislation and by the press, grew out of
our relations with foreign countries. Washington had scarcely taken
in hand the reins of government when the French revolution burst
forth, and disturbed the repose of Europe. The Eepublican ten
dencies of the French people, notwithstanding their bloody extrav
agancies, found at all times in the United-States a strong and sym
pathizing party. On the other hand, there was a powerful party
that deprecated French influence, and sympathized with England in
her efforts to repress those revolutionary tendencies. All those who
were opposed to a strong centralizing government, and favored the
independence of the States so far as consisted with the strict limita
tions of the Constitution, leaned to the French side of the question.
Those of the contrary opinions took the opposite. As the destructive
war between those great belligerent powers waxed hotter and hotter,
its exciting and maddening influences were more deeply felt by the
sympathizing parties here. Each accused the other of wishing to in
volve the country in the war on the side of their respective friends.
Anglomania, Gallomania, raged like an epidemic through the land,
and every subject discussed partook of its influence — the Indian
Wars, Whisky Insurrection, Gennet's reception, Jay's treaty, and
the depredations on our commerce.
As those who were opposed to French influence were in the as
cendent, they pushed their measures to an open rupture with France,
apd, as a means of repressing the further progress of her revolution
ary doctrines, enacted those harsh and unconstitutional remedies
called the Alien and Sedition Laws, which were the immediate cause
of their overthrow.
The resolutions of the legislatures of Virginia and of Kentucky,
growing out of the above laws, and the exposition of those resolutions
by Mr. Madison, in his report to the Virginia legislature in 1800,
constitute the doctrine and political faith, so far as they go, of the
republican party that came into power under the auspices of Mr,
Jefferson. But no sooner was Mr. Jefferson installed in office, than he was
called on to encounter the same difficulties which had so much em-

114 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
barrassed his predecessors in their intercourse with foreign powers.
The federal party, now in the minority, and much weakened by
their late overthrow, opposed all his measures, and wielded his own
arguments against him. They had contended that the Constitution
justifled any measure that tended to promote " the public good and
general welfare.'' This broad doctrine was denied by the republican
party, and was totally annihilated by Mr. Madison's report. But the
first important raeasure of Mr. Jefferson involved a contradiction of his
doctrines. We were in danger of a rupture with Spain and France,
on account of the navigation of the Mississippi. To put an end to
these difficulties, Louisiana was purchased. Mr. Jefferson said there
was no constitutional authority for the act, that it could only be jus
tified from the necessity of the case, and that the people must sanction
it by an express provision in the Constitution. Then followed the em
bargo law, which the federalists in like manner opposed on the ground
of its unconstitutionality. They contended that it was the result of
" the public good and general welfare" construction, so much and so
successfully condemned by the party now in power. Then followed
other restrictive measures, and finally the war with Great Britain, all
of which were .opposed, as we already know, by the federalists, as
parts of the same erroneous and destructive and unconstitutional
policy. These divisions and difficulties, growing out of our foreign
relations, were finally healed and put to rest by the termination of
the war. Former asperities were smothered down, old animosities
forgotten,, and the exciting cause of party heats was burnt out and ex
tinguished in the general pacification of the world. New questions,
arising for the first tirae since the organization of the government,
had now to be discussed and solved. The functions of the gov
ernment, as restrained and directed by the limitations of the Consti
tution, had to be exercised on a class of cases entirely different from
those which had hitherto tested their capacity.
Under the monopolizing infiuence of the embargo, non-intercourse,
and war measures of the last eight or nine years, a great -manufactur
ing interest had been stimulated into being. During this long period
of stagnation to commerce and agriculture, much capital was with
drawn from them and vested in manufactures. This great interest
was likely to be seriously affected by the restoration of peace and of
reciprocal commerce with other raanufacturing nations.

POLITICAL PARTIES. II5
During the long continental wars, when the omnipotent British
fleet drove the comraerce of all the belligerent powers from the
ocean, our merchantmen, under the protection of the neutral flag of
their country, gathered a rich harvest in the carrying trade. They
had now to be reduced to the bounds of a legitimate commerce, and
subjected to the eager rivalry of other more powerful and commercial
States, By the acquisition of Louisiana, a vast dominion had been added
CO our territories, and our population was rapidly spreading over that
imraense and fertile region. The means of internal communication
became questions of serious consideration. The resources of ihe
country lay dormant in their primeval state, like a vast weltering
chaos, waiting for some brooding spirit to breathe life and foni into
its teeming elements. The South Araerican provinces catching the
spirit of freedom from our example, had thrown off the yoke of the
raother country, and were looking to us for countenance, and stretch
ing forth the hand for aid in their arduous struggle for independence.
These were the great themes that filled the public mind at the
coming in of Mr. Monroe's administration and during its continuance.
It was called the period of good feeling. The Federal party entirely
disappeared, and its merabers were received into the ranks of their
old opponents. But many respectable men among them, not disposed
to abandon principles which they had honestly adopted, retired to
private life. The rhetorical phrase of Mr. Jefferson, in his inaugural
address, was made to have a practical raeaning. The popular word
was, " We are all Federalists, all EepubUcans," The existence of a
distinct Federal party, or a distinct Eepublican party, was denied,
and the leading politicians cultivated with great assiduity, the favor
and support of all men, without regard to former distinctions, count
ing thera as brothers of the same republican family.
This new state of things was made the theme of congratulation
to the country by the newspaper writers and the fourth of July
orators of the time. " I come not here to burn the torch of Alecto,"
says one of the latter ; " to rae there is no lustre in its fires, nor
cheering warrath in its blaze. Let us rather offer and raingle our
congratulations, that those unhappy differences which alienated one
portion of our community from the rest, are at an end ; and that
a vast fund of the genius and worth of our country has been restored

116 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
to its service, to give now vigor to its career of power and prosperity
To this blessed consummation the administration of our venerable
Monroe has been a powerful auxiliary. The delusions of past years
have rolled away, and the mists that once hovered over forms of now
unshaded brightness, are dissipated for es^er. We can now all meet
and exchange our admiration and love in generous confraternity of
feeling, whether we speak of our Jefferson or our Adams, our Madi
son or o^r Hamilton, our Pinckney or our Monroe ; the associations
of patriotism are awakened, and we forget the distance in the politi
cal zodiac which once separated these illustrious luminaries, in the
full tide of glory they are pouring on the brightest pages of our
history." This amalgamation of all parties was a dangerous experiment on
the health and soundness of the Eepublic. Over action was the ne
cessary consequence of the destruction of all the countervailing infln
ences of the system ; and the generation of some latent chronic
disease, which in after time must seriously affect the constitution of
the body politic. The French government, the laborious work of a
thousand years, was destroyed in a single night, by the sacrifice of all
the orders of their distinctive privileges and opposing influences on
what they fondly deemed to be the altar of patriotism. The flood
gates were now opened ; and from this single blunder there followed
a series of frightful consequences, which history in the course of half a
century has not been able to understand nor to portray.
It is lamentable to see a country cut up into factions, following
this or that great leader with a blind, undoubting hero-worship ; it is
contemptible to see it divided into parties, whose sole end is the spoils
of victory ; such an one is nigh its end : but, on the other hand, it is
equally true, that no government can be conducted by the people and
for the beneflt of the people, without a rigid adherence to certain fixed
principles, which must be the test of parties, and of raen and of fheir
measures. These principles once determined, they must be inexora
ble in their application, and compel all raen either to come up to
their standard, or to declare against it ; their criterion of political
faith must be the same as that of Christian faith laid down by Christ
himself — they who are not for us are against us. Men may betray,
principles never can. Oppression is the invariable consequence of

POLITICAl, PARTIES. II7
misplaced confidence in treacherous man ; never is it the result of
the working of a sound, just, and well-tried principle.
If the proposition be true, that ours is a government peculiar in
its nature, unknown in former times, or to other nations, then the
political doctrines arising ix^m a contemplation of its structure and
the principles by which it is to be conducted, should be peculiar also :
the analogies of history, and the examples of other states, should
serve rather as beacons of warning than as precedents to be followed.
If it be true, that ours is a government of delegated authority, arising
out of the constitutional compact of sovereign and independent
States, which delegated powers are specified and strictly limited,
while all others are reserved to the States, or to the people of the
States ; then there must grow out of this peculiar and jealous rela
tion of the States and the people of the States to each vther acd to
the government they have mutually drawn over them for their com
mon protection, certain political principles as essential for the sound
and healthy action of the complicated system as vital air is to the
human body.
The same wise abstinence that influenced the structure should
control the action of this governmental machinery. It would seem
that the first inquiry a prudent statesman should propound to him
self would be this — is the power delegated ? Does the charter specify
the grant? If not, is it a necessary inference as the means of carry
ing into effect a power granted ? If it be neither the one nor the other,
but is in itself a distinct and substantive power, he should say to
himself, this power ought not to be exercised, however expedient or
necessary it may seem to me at this time ; to place it among the
delegated powers by construction, is to construe away the Constitu
tion — my example will be made a precedent for still bolder construc
tion, until there shall be nothing left to the States or to the people ;
and this well balanced republic of confederated States shall sink down
into a consolidated and despotic empire. These reflections seem not
to have influenced the statesmen of Mr. Monroe's administration.
The new and brilliant career that lay before them kindled their
imaginations ; and each, like an Olympian courser, eagerly pressed
forward to take the lead in every enterprise. In projecting schemes
to develope and to direct the resources and the domestic concerns of
the people, they seemed to vie with each other in giving to the limita-

118 LIFE OF JOHjr RANDOLPH.
tions of the Constitution the utmost latitude of interpretation. Nor
is it at all surprising, when we consider the materials of which the
government was composed. The minority men of embargo times
had been whitewashed into courtiers, with their old leader (Monroe)
at the head of the government, who, ^o obtain that station, was
accused of sacrificing every principle he ever professed. The Fede
ralists (latitudinarians in principle), who had abjured their heresies, and
reconciled themselves to the true catholic church, constituted the body
of voters in the two Houses of Congress ; while their parliamentary
leaders were the same intrepid young men, who entering into public
life in times of war, when boldness was the first requisite in a states
man, kept up the same ardent career in peace, and mounted first
the one and then the other hobby, on which they hoped to ride
into popular favor. The only raen left behind in this wild race,
were the few Jacobins of the Adams and Jefferson times, who
looked with astonishraent and rage (enrages) on the adroit and unex
pected manner in which the reins of government had been slipped
frora the hands of the true EepubUcans.
" The spirit of profession and devotion to the court has increased
beyond my most sanguine anticipations," says John Eandolph in a
letter to Dr. Brockenbrough, dated December 30th, 1811 "The
die is cast. The Emperor is master of the Senate, and through that
body commands the life and property of every man in the Republic !
The person who fills the office seems to be almost without a friend.
Not so the office itself"

CHAPTEE XII.
MISSOURI QUESTION.

The great subject not only of discussion, but of deep and fearful
agitation in Congress to its close, on the 3d of March, 1821, and
araong the people, was the Missouri Question, or the question of
slavery in its political influence on the legislation of the country.
This subject, together with the question of right to the waste lands

MISSOURI QUESTION. II9
lying within the jurisdiction of some of the larger States, constituted
the chief obstacle in the way of a cordial and harmonious union of
the States, even in the time of their utmost peril, when they were
contending for their independence. When the States were called
upon to contribute their portion of men and money to conduct the
war on the issue of which depended their existence, the question was,
In what ratio shall they contribute? After trying the valuation of
landed property, with its improvements, they abandoned it, and
adopted the ratio of population as the best evidence of ability to con
tribute, and as the most practicable plan ; and it was agreed that in
determining the amount of population in each State, five slaves
should be counted as equal to three free men. Thus the slavery ques
tion was settled for the time.
When the Articles of Confederation were proposed to the States
for adoption, some of them, enough to defeat the measure, refused to
corae into the Confederation, unless the waste lands were admitted and
received as common property ; especially after the treaty of peace in
1 783, and the boundaries of the United States were defined, they con
tended that all the waste, or back lands within those boundaries,
having been bought with the common blood and treasure of. all, was
the joint property of all the States. It was maintained by the
States on the other hand, that the land lay within their chartered
limits, and rightfully belonged to them. This subject was a serious
obstacle in the way of a more permanent union. At length it was agreed
to propose to the States to grant, in a spirit of harmony and conces
sion, all their rights to the Confederation. New- York set the exam
ple, and made a concession of all her rights west of her present bound
ary ; though her title was regarded as of no value. South Carolina
followed next ; she also had little or nothing to concede. Then came
Virginia : her title to lands lying northwest of the Ohio, and extend
ing to the Lakes and the Mississippi, was for a long time disputed,
but after a jealous and thorough investigation, it was finally given
up and conceded that her title was valid. On the 1st of March, 1784,
a deed was executed by Virginia, granting this immense domain to
the Confederation — on the condition that the territory so ceded shall
be laid out and formed into States, and that the States so formed shall
be distinct republican States, and admitted members of the Federal

120 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Union, having the same rights of sovereignty, freedom, and indepen
dence, as the other States.
Immediately on the reception of this grant. Congress, on the 23d
of April, 1784, passed a resolution extending its jurisdiction over the
newly acquired territory, and projected a plan of government for the
new States that might grow up therein, according to the conditions of
the grant. It was admitted that Congress had no authority under
Articles, of Confederation for the measures adopted ; the plea of ne
cessity alone was urged in their justification. Congress resolved that
the settlers shall, either on their own petition or on the order of Con
gress, receive authority from them, for their free males of full age,
to meet together, for the purpose of establishing a temporary govern
ment, to adopt the constitution and laws of any one of the original
States, subject to alteration by their ordinary legislature ; and to
erect counties or other divisions, for the election of members of their
legislature. They further resolved, that when any such State shall
have acquired twenty thousand free inhabitants, on giving due proof
thereof to Congress, they shall receive from them authority to call
a convention of representatives to establish a permanent constitution
and government for themselves. Provided, that both the temporary
and permanent governments be established on the principle that they
shall for ever remain a part of the Confederacy of the United States
of America, and be subject to the articles of confederation.
These articles, together with others, prescribing the mode of self-
governraent to be pursued by the new States, as they shall from time
to time be carved out of the recently acquired territory. Congress
resolved shall be formed into a charter of compact ; and shall stand
as fundamental constitutions between the thirteen original States,
and each of the several States now newly described, unalterable from
and after the sale of any part of the territory of such State but by
the joint consent of the United States in Congress assembled, and
of the particular State within which such alteration is proposed to be
made. Notwithstanding the unalterable nature of this charter of
compact. Congress did, by an Ordinance of the 13th of July, 1787,
materially modify the same, and introduced a new article, by which
it was ordained that " there shall be neither slavery nor involuntary
servitude in the territory, otherwise than in the punishment of crimes,
whereof the party shall have been duly convicted." Thus we per

MISSOURI QUESTION. 121
ceive that, prior to the adoption of the present Constitution, which
was some months after the above ordinance, the whole of the North
western Territory had been provided with a government.
No other lands were ceded to the Confederation, or were expected
to be. The jurisdiction of Virginia extended over the District of
Kentucky to the borders of the Mississippi. So did the jurisdiction
of North Carolina extend over Tennessee, and of Georgia over the
whole country now embraced within the limits of Alabama and Mis
sissippi. Massachusetts did not surrender her jurisdiction over the
District of Maine ; Vermont was a sovereign State, though not in the
Confederation, disputing her independence with New- York on the
one hand, and New Hampshire on the other.
Thus it appears that at the time of the adoption of the present
Constitution, every foot of land embraced within the borders ©f the
United States under the treaty of independence in 1783, was em
braced within the jurisdiction of some one of the States, or the Con
gress of the United States under the charter of compact of the 23d
April, 1784; amended and enlarged by the Ordinance of the 13th
July, 1 787. The framers of the Constitution, therefore, in contem
plation of the facts before them, had only to introduce an article
binding the new government to fulfil the contracts of the old one,
and an article authorizing Congress to dispose of, and make all need
ful rules and regulations, respecting the territory or other property
belonging to the United States. Such articles were introduced, and
they were sufficient for the purpose.
A proposition was made in the Convention to authorize Congress
" to institute temporary governraents for the new States " arising
vnthin the unappropriated lands of the United States. But this
was unnecessary, because the object contemplated had already been
accomplished by the charter of compact and the ordinance, and the
article in the Constitution requiring a fulfilment of those contracts.
As to lands within tuc jurisdiction of the States ; Georgia for exam
ple, however much Congress might claim the right to them as com
mon property, they never disputed the- jurisdiction of the State.
Those wise men, therefore, declined acting on the proposition, they
never granted an unnecessary power.
The slave-question was equally well and wisely settled by the pro
visions of the Constitution. The same ryle which had been adopted
VOL. II. 6

122 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
under the Confederation as the ratio of contribution, was raade tho
basis of representation and taxation. Eepresentatives and direct
taxes were apportioned among the several States according to their
respective numbers ; and to determine the number, five slaves were
to be counted as equal to three free men The Slave-States, by this
rule, lost in representation, but they gained whenever the government
resorted to direct taxation ; that being very seldom, the general re
sult has been a loss to the slave-holding States. But they cannot
complain, it was a rule insisted on by themselves when, under the
Confederation, it was only the basis of contribution of men and mo
ney. They said that two-fifths of the slaves, the old and the young,
were a burthen to their owners and ought not to be taxed ; this was
considered reasonable, and they were exempted.
By an article in the Constitution, the iraportation of slaves was
perraitted for twenty years : that is, the slave-trade was tolerated for
that length of tirae ; and by another provision, owners of slaves were
protected in their rights whenever they escaped into States where
involuntary servitude was not allowed by law. It is obvious, that
every other question which could arise touching the subject of slavery
was of a local and domestic nature, and was reserved to the States
or to the people.
Thus did the framers of our Constitution, clearly perceiving and
appreciating the delicacy of the subject, wisely provide for the diffi
culties which had so much erabai-rassed the States apd the Confede
ration in regard to the public lands and the subject of slavery. Their
measures were complete and exhaustive of the subject, so far as the
existing limits of the United States were concerned. They did not
contemplate an extension of the Union beyond its present bounda
ries. The serious difficulties that now so much threaten the integ
rity of the republic, have grown out of the purchase and acquisition
of foreign territory. It is true the Constitution provides for the ad
mission of new States ; but the States contemplated were those ex
pected to grow up within the existing borders of the Union — Maine,
Vermont, the North Western States, Kentucky, Tennessee, Missis
sippi, and Alabama. None others were anticipated. That the vast
dominions of the King of Spain, extending from the borders of the
Mississippi to the Pacific Ocean, would ever become a portion of the
territories of the United States, was a thing our forefathers never

MISSOURI QUESTION. 123
dreamed of, much less provided for in that Constitution they had so
cautiously limited and guarded in all its parts, as a fit government
for their posterity.
The acquisition of Louisiana was without constitutional authority.
Mr. Jefferson, who made the purchase, admitted it to be so. He
wished a ratification of the act, by the people ; but that was never
done. It would be dangerous to take their silent acquiescence as
evidence of approval. The amendment of the Constitution, which
Mr. Jefferson desired, by the insertion of an expost facto clause, par
doning its infraction under the pressure of an imperious necessity,
was never attempted. The deed stands now as it did then — a naked
usurpation of power, sanctioned only by the silent acquiescence of the
people. We do not wish to be understood as condemning it. The
evils which must necessarily have flowed from the continuance of
Louisiana in the hands of a foreign and hostile power, are much
greater,- as we conceive, than those which ought to result as a neces
sary consequence of its annexation to the Union. But this does not
alter the fact in regard to it — that it was acquired without autho
rity, and that there has been no amendment of the Constitution rati
fying the deed.
It is said, however, that under the war and treaty-making power,
Congress may acquire foreign territory ; under the same authority by
which it is obtained, it may be held and governed — conquered by
the sword, it may be held and governed by the sword. This doc
trine, whether derived from the war or treaty-making power, leads to
the consequence that Congress may acquire foreign territory, and hold
it and govern it as a province — as England governed the old thirteen
provinces, as she now governs Canada and the East Indies ! This is
a startling conclusion ; but it is the inevitable consequence of the
premises ; grant the one, and you are forced to admit the other. But
Congress, having acquired the territory, must govern it in the spirit
of the Constitution. This is a total surrender of the doctrine of
strict construction, which requires a distinct grant for the exercise
of every substantive power by Congress, as the governing of a terri
tory, making and unmaking laws for it, must be admitted to be. In
the spirit of the Constitution ! What that may be is a matter of
opinion. A States-rights man holds one opinion on that subject;
» Consolidationist or Federalist holds another ; and it is left to a

124 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
majority of Congress for the time being to say what is legislation la
the spirit of the Constitution. These are the absurd and dangerous
conclusions of a false doctrine, and we are now reaping the conse
quences. Better admit honestly and candidly with Mr. Jefferson,
that the first acquisition was without constitutional authority, and,
of consequence, that all the subsequent acts in regard to it raust
partake of the same character. The truth is, that nearly all the legis
lation of Congress for the last half century, on the subject of territo
ries, can be sustained by their own examples and precedents alone,
and not by any grant of power in the Constitution.
When Missouri presented herself for admission into the Union,
a proposition was made in Congress to amend her constitution, by
inserting the clause, that " all children of slaves, born within the said
State after the admission thereof into the Union, shall be free, but
may be held to service until the age of twenty-five years ; and the
further introduction of slavery, or involuntary servitude, is prohibited,
except for the punishment of crimes, whereof the party shall have
been duly ponvicted." This proposition came too late. Missouri was
now an independent State, made so by the permission and by the
authority of Congress ; she could not be thrown back by the will of
Congress into the colonial state. Her intemal and domestic affairs
were under her absolute control ; and the only inquiry left to Con
gress was, to determine whether her Constitution was republican, and
whether, as a new State, she shall be admitted into the Union. The
attempted restriction on her domestic policy was a monstrous propo
sition that no other Congress, save such an one as we have described
in the preceding chapter, could have entertained. Men having a just
conception of tlie limitations of the Constitution and of the rights of
the States, would have perceived that the internal affairs of a State
were wholly beyond the jurisdiction of a government, whose powers
were specially and strictly limited to a few general subjects comraon
to all States.
But as it regards the Territoiy beyond the limits of the State of
Missouri, wholly a different; question was presented — here was a fair
subject of compromise. Congress had no right to legislate, we are
told, on the subject of slavery in that Territory — what right had they
to legislate on any subject ? What right had they in the first in
stance to acquire possession of foreign territory ? Under the treaty-

MISSOURI QUESTION, 125
making power, it is answered. Then under the treaty-making power
it must be governed as a necessary inference, or implication. The
proposition to confer on Congress the power to make a teraporary
government for territories was distinctly rejected by the framers of
the Constitution, Any specific grant to that effect is not pretended.
Congress has the right to make treaties — this confers on them the
power to purchase by treaty and to take possession of foreign terri
tory — Shaving a right to acquire by treaty, the 'necessary inference is
that they have the right to make laws and to govern the territory ;r the
province acquired — this is the line of argument. Now all implied
powers have no other limitation on them, but the will of those who
make the implication — let the Protective Tariff, the system of In
ternal Improvements by the General Government, and the Bank,
serve as examples and illustrations of this truth. When you go be
yond the specific grants and resort to implication for such a distinct,
substantive and important power as tlie one under consideration, then
all the limitations in the Constitution are of no avalL Take either
alternative, therefore, that Congress had no constitutional authority
either to purchase or to govern foreign territory — or that, under the
treaty-making power, they had the right to acquire and to govern,
then there is no limitation on the exercise of the power, usuo-ped m
implied, save that imposed by themselves. The examples and prece
dents set by their predecessors constitute their only guide. The
spirit of the Constitution as manifested in these authorities must be
their only rule of action. It was precisely in accordance with the
history of past legislation that the Missouri compromise was accom
plished. It seems to have grown up as a tacit, though well under
stood agreement, that North of a certain line involuntary servitude
should not exist, and South of it slavery should be tolerated. The
compromise ordinance of 1787 originated in this feeling.
Eepeated attempts at an early day were made in Indiana and Il
linois to suspend the article of the Ordinance prohibiting slavery be
yond the Ohio — but they were always opposed and defeated by South
ern men. On the contrary, when the provisions of the Ordinance
"(yere extended to Southern territory, tke article on the subject of
slavery -was striken out. Thus there grew up from the nature of the
ease, and under the force of circumstances, a sort of common law un
derstanding, that aU North of a certain line, restrictions on the sub-

126 L.lFE of JOHN RANDOLPH.
ject of slavery should be enforced, and South of it, they should bo
removed. When, therefore, the question was raised in regard to
newly acquired foreign territory, the same rule was enforced. It waa
imposed by a combined northern majority on the South who, without
a dissenting voice, steadily opposed it. This geographical majority
ingrafted on the Missouri bill a provision — "that in all that territory
«eded by France to the United States, under the name of Louisiana,
which lies north of thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes north lati
tude, not included within the limits of the State contemplated by this
act, slavery and involuntary servitude, otherwise than in the punish-'
ment of crimes, whereof the parties shall have been duly convicted,
shall be and is hereby for ever prohibited." Thus we see that the line
was extended and definitely laid down by northern men. The whole
South voted against it under the impression that Congress had no
right to legislate on the subject ; but we have seen their error in sup
posing that there were any constitutional provisions on the subject at
all — and that, whether as usurped or implied power, there was no
other limitation on it, save that of precedent and authority. And it
was precisely in accordance with precedent and authority, and the
common sentiment silently grown up among the States, that this line
was laid down and extended. The northern men took on themselves
the fearful responsibility of acting alone in this business. They dic
tated the line and said by that we will stand. All subsequent legis
lation has been based on the faith of this pledge. Iowa has been ad
mitted as a State into the Union — Minnesota and Oregon organized
as Territories on its faith. And can any reasonable man see why
this line should not as well extend to the Pacific ocean, as to the
Eocky Mountains ? to the territories recently acquired of Mexico, as
well as to those which in 1803 were purchased of France ? There is
no constitutional authority for the acquisition or the government of
either as territory or a province — the necessity of the case in the
first instance, and the subsequent practice of the government, can
alone be adduced as justification and authority.
The same rules, precedents, and examples, apply as well in the
one case as in the other. And above all, that overwhelming senti
ment of justice, that spirit of concession and compromise, which pre
sided over the birth and infancy of the Constitution, and preserved it
from destruction when well-nigh torn asunder by the Missouri eon-

COMPROMISE BILL. 127
vulsion, urge on us.now with tenfold force, at a moment when all the
nations of the earth are torn up from their deep foundations — and
this blessed Constitution stands as the only sheltering rock in whose
broad shadow, far stretching over the dark waters, their scattered
fragments may come together and be re-formed. If the sentiment of
brotherly forbearance, if a generous pride in the glory and prosperity
of our common country do not prevail at this erisis, we shall then
hang our heads in sorrow, mourn over the departed spirit of our fa
thers, and look with fearful forebodings on that dark demoh, that has
corae to usurp its place — tho mad spirit of fanaticism, engendered in
arabitiop and fostered by the lust of plunder and dominion.

CHAPTEE XIII.
COMPROMISE BILL SMUGGLED THROUGH THE HOUSE.
Mr. Eandolph's opposition to the Missouri Bill, with the obnoxious
clause in it prohibiting slavery beyond a certain line, was very de
cided. In common with the southern members, he regarded the
whole proceeding as unconstitutional — destructive of the vital in
terests of the South — a dangerous precedent, that might be used for
still greater encroachments hereafter — and would listen to no com
promise on the subject. One night, when the House was engaged in
debating the great question, and there seemed but a faint prospect
of its adjustment, Mr. Eandolph, it is said, accosted Mr. Clay, the
Speaker of the House, who, for a moment, was absent from the chair,
and said to him, " Mr. Speaker, I wish you would quit the chair, and
leave the House ; I will follow you to Kentucky, or any where else."
Mr. Eandolph was told, in reply, that his proposition was a very seri
ous one ; and that if he would meet Mr, Clay the next morning, in
the Speaker's room, the latter would converse with him fully on the
whole subject. The interview accordingly took place, and the parties
had a long conversation, relating, principally, to the propriety of a
compromise, Mr. Eandolph was decidedly opposed to any compro
mise, and Mr. Clay was in favor of acceding to one, if it could be

128 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
done without any sacrifice of principle After the termination of thii
interview, they never exchanged sali.tations, or spoke to each other
again, during the session. We do not vouch for the truth of this
statement ; but it is very certain, that Mr. Eandolph spoke in no
measured terms of the course of the Speaker of the House (Mr. Clay)
on the subject of the compromise, and charged him with taking ad
vantage of his office, and conniving, if not actually aiding, in smug
gling the bill through the House, contrary to the rules of proceeding,
thereby depriving him and other members of their constitutional
right to a final vote, on a motion for reconsideration, which the
Speaker knew Mr. Eandolph was about to raake.
His own account of that transaction is so graphic, so character
istic of the man, that we here give it to the reader entire.
" On the night that that bill had its last vote in the House, my
colleague, W. S. Archer, was a new meraber. I declared, publicly
and openly, that in case that bill should pass, with the araendment
then proposed, unless another amendment should succeed; — ^which
did not succeed — I declared, conditionally, that I should move for
a reconsideration of the vote. Myself and ray colleague, who, with
another gentleman, whom I shall not refer to, though near me
(Mr. Macon), were the only persons whom I have heard of, b>.
longing to the Southern interest, who deterrained to have no com
promise at all on this subject. They determined to cavil on the nine
tieth part of a hair, in a matter of sheer right, touching the dearest
interests, the life-blood of the Southern States. The House was ex
hausted ; a gentleman fainted in front of the chair, and tumbled on
the ground. In this state of things, my colleague asked whether it
would not do as well to put off the motion till to-raorrow (for he was
in ill health and much fatigued) ? I said I could not agree to that,
till I had taken the opinion of the court, in the last resort. After
that question had eventuated, as I foresaw it might, I rose in my
place, and asked of the Speaker whether it was in order to move a repon-
sideration of the vote. He said that it was. Sir, I am stating facts
of raore iraportance to the civil history of this country than the battle
which took place not far frora this. He said it was. I then asked
him (to relieve my colleague, who had just taken his seat for the first
time that session), whether it would be in order to move the recon
sideration of the vote, on the next day ? He said soraething to this
effect : Surely the gentleraan knows the rules of the House too well
not to know that it will be in order at any time during the sitting, to
morrow or the next day. I replied, I thought I did ; but I wanted
to make assurance doubly sure, to have the opinion of the tribunal,

COMPROMISE BILL. 129
in the last resort. I then agreed — to accommodate my colleague, in
the state of exhaustion in which the House then was — I agreed to
suspend my motion for a reconsideration, and we adjourned. The
next morning, before either House met, I learned — ^no matter how —
no matter from whom, or for what consideration — that it was in contem
plation that this clock (Senate chamber), which is hardly ever in order,
and the clock in the other House, which is not in a better condition,
should somehow disagree ; that the Speaker should not take his seat
in the House till the President had taken his seat nere ; and then,
that when I went into the House to make my motion, I was to be
told that the Chair regretted very much that the clerk had gone off
with the bill ; that it was not in their possession, and the case was
irreparable ; and yet I recollect very well, when we applied to the
Secretary of State for a parchment roll of an act which had not been
duly enrolled, two sections were left out by the carelessness of the
clerks and of the committee of enrollment. That act was, by the
House of Eepresentatives, in which it originated, procured from the
archives of the Department of State, and put on the statute books, as
it passed — not as it was on the roll — and enrolled anew. It was the
act for the relief of the captors of the Mirboha and Missonda. As
soon as I understood this, sir, I went to the Speaker myself, and
told hira that I must have my vote for reconsideration that day.
" I can only say that I inferred — not from what he told me — that
my information was correct". I came off immediately to this House
(Senate.) It wanted about twenty minutes of the time when the Sen
ate was to meet. I saw that most respectable man whom we have
just lost, and begged to speak with him in private. We retired to a
coraraittee room, and to prevent intrusion we locked the door. I told
him of the conspiracy laid to defeat me of my constitutional right to
move a reconsideration, (though I think it a dangerous rule, and
always voted against its being put on the rules at all, believing that,
to prevent tampering and collusion, the vote to reconsider ought to
be taken instantly, yet, sir, as it was then, I had a right to make the
motion.) I told this gentleman that he might, by taking the chair
of the Senate sooner than the true time, lend himself unconsciously
to this conspiracy against my constitutional rights as a member of
the other House from the State of Virginia. I spoke, sir, to a man
of honor and a gentleman, and it is unnecessary to say that he did
not take the chair till the proper hour arrived. As soon as that hour
arrived, we left the committee room together. I went on to the
House of Eepresentatives, and found them in session, and the clerk
reading the journal, meanwhile there had been runners through the
long passage, which was then made of plank, I think, between the
two Houses, hunting for Mr. Gaillard. Where is he ? He is not to
be found. The House of Eepresentatives having organized itself,

lyO LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH
when I came in from the door of the Senate, I found the clerk read
ing the journal ; the moment after he had finished it I made the mo
tion, and was seconded by ray colleague, Mr. Archer, to whom I could
appeal — not that my testimony wants evidence. I should like to see
the raan who would question it on a matter of fact. This fact is well
remembered ; a lady would as soon forget her wedding day as I forget
this. The motion to reconsider was opposed ; it was a debateable
question, and the Speaker 'stated something this way — ' that it was
not for him to give any orders ; the Clerk knew his duty.' The Clerk
went more than once — my impression is, that he went more than
twice. I could take my oath, and so, I believe, could Mr. Archer,
that he raade two efforts, and came back under my eye, like a mouse
under the eye of a cat, with the engrossed bill in his hand. His
bread was at stake. At last he, with that pace, and countenance, and
manner, which only conscious guilt can inspire, went off, his poverty,
not his will consenting ; and before the debate was finished, back he
comes with the bill, from the Senate, which had then becorae a law,
before it was decided whether they would reconsider it at my mo
tion or not, which motion nailed the bill to the table until it should
have been disposed of Notorious as these facts are, so anxious was
one side of that House to cover up their defection ; such was the anx
iety of the other to get Missouri in on any conditions, that this thing
was hushed up, just as the suspension of the Habeas Corpus was
hushed up.
" The bill was passed through the forms of law. Missouri was ad
mitted into the Union contrary to the Constitution, as rauch so as if
I had voted the other way in the first instance, and the Speaker had
ordered the Clerk to put my name with the ayes in the journal when
I had voted no — because, sir, agreeably to the Constitution of the
United States every member has a right to his vote, under the forms
of the House, whether these forms are wise or foolish ; and my col
league and myself were ousted out of our right to reconsider, for
which I would not have taken all the land within the State of Mis
souri." Mr. Eandolph was greatly excited during the agitation of the
Missouri question ; he did not sleep of nights ; and his energetic,
quick temper, exasperated by the scenes around him, inflamed by
long watching and anxiety, gave a peculiar force and piquancy to all
he said. His indignation was particularly levelled at Mr. Clay, not
that he had any personal dislike to that gentleman, apart from his
political course, but as he was the leader of the spurious Eepublican
party then in the ascendent, Mr. Eandolph thought him entitled to
the animadversions that were aimed at the party itself, particularly

COMPROMISE BILL. 131
as he was uot only their leader, but their chief spokesman, setting
forth on all occasions, and embellishing their doctrines by his copious
and ornate style of oratory.
Old minority men, turned courtiers, and whitewashed Federalists,
composed the self-styled Eepublican party, when in truth they did
not possess the first principle — the doctrine of State rights, that
should characterize a party bearing that title. Mr. Clay's course on
the bank in 1811, and again in 1816, his course on internal improve
ments, and his conduct in regard to " the compromise," as it was un
derstood by all strict constructionists, eminently fitted him for the
leadership of such a mongrel party ; and surely he was not spared in
the animadversions of those who perceived the old leaven of Federal
ism penetrating the whole mass under the shallow disguise of a new
name. In the following strictures Mr. Eandolph is particularly pointed
and severe.
" The anniversary of Washington's birth-day (says he, in a letter
to Dr. Brockenbrough, Feb. 23d, 1820) will be a memorable day in the
history of my life, if indeed any history shall be attached to it. Yes
terday, I spoke four hours and a half to as attentive an audience as
ever listened to a public speaker. Every eye was riveted upon me,
save one, and, that was sedulously and affectedly turned away. The
ears, however, were drinking up the words as those of the royal Dane
imbibed " the juice of cursed heberon," though not, like his, uncon
scious of the leprous distilment ; as I could plainly perceive by the
play of the muscles of the face, and the coming and going of the
color, and the petty agitation of the whole man, like the affected fidget
and flirt of the fan whereby a veteran coquette endeavors to hide her
chagrin from the spectators of her mortification.
" This person was no other than Mr. Speaker himself, the only
man in the House to whose attention I had a right. He left the chair,
called Cobb to it, paced the lobby at the back of it in great agitation,
resumed, read MSS., newspapers, printed documents on the table
(i. e. affected to read them), beckoned the attendants, took snuff,
looked at his shoe-buckles, at his ruffles, towards the other side of the
House — every where but at me. I had mentioned to him as deli
cately as I could, that being unable to catch his eye, I had been
obliged (against my will, and what I thought the rule of order and
decorum in debate) to look elsewhere for support. This apology I
expected would call him to a sense of what was due to himself and
his station, as well as to me ; but it had none effect. At last, when
you might have heard a pin drop upon the carpet, he beckoned one

132 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
of the attendants and began whispering to the lad (I believe to fetch
his snuff-box). ' Fooled to the top of my bent,' I ' checked in mid
volley,' and said : ' The rules of this House, sir, require, and properly
require, every member when he speaks to address himself respectfully
to Mr. Speaker ; to that rule, which would seera to imply a correla
tive duty of respectful attention on the part of the Chair, I always
adhere ; never seeking for attention in the countenances of the mem
bers, much less of the spectators and auditors in the lobby or the gal
lery : as, however, I find the Chair resolutely bent on not attending
to me, I shall take my seat :' which I did accordingly. The chas
tisement was so deserved, so studiously provoked, that it was not in
my nature to forego inflicting it. Like 'Worcester's rebellion, it Ujy
"« my way and I found it}
" He replied in a subdued tone of voice, and with a manner quite
changed from his usual petulance and arrogance (for it is generally
one or t'other, sometimes both), ' that he had paid all possible atten
tion,' &c., whicll was not true, in fact : for frora the time that i en
tered upon the subject of his conduct in relation to the bank in 181 1
(renewal of old charter), and in 1816 (the new bank), and on inter
nal improvements, &c. (quoting his words in his last speech, that
' this was a limited, cautiously restricted government'), and held up
the ' Compromise' in its true colors, he never once glanced his eye
upon me but to withdraw it, as if he had seen a basilisk.
" Some of the pretenders to the throne, if not the present incum
bent, will hold me from that day forth in cherished remembrance. I
have not yet done, however, with the pope or the pretenders, their
name is legiom
" My dear friend, 1 have been up since three o'clock ; as soon as
I could see to write I began'this letter, if it deserve the name of one.
I have received my death-wound on Tuesday, the 1st, and Wednes
day, the 2d of February. Had I not spoken on the last of these
days, I might have weathered this point and clawed off of death's lee
shore. My disease is assuming a hectic type. I believe the lungs
are affected symptomatically, through sympathy with the liver, at
least I hope so. Yet why hope when the vulture daily whets his
beak for a repast upon my ever-growing liver, and his talons are fixed
in my very vitals ? I ara done with public life, as soon as the business
of Congress will permit me to leave it ; at any rate, immediately after
the adjournment I shall 'travel — perhaps take a sea voyage, not to
get rid of duns (although the wolf will be at my door in the shape
of the man I bought that land of), but to take the only chance of
prolonging a life, that I trust is noio not altogether useless.
" Eemember me kindly to all friends ; respectfully to Mr. Eoane.
Tell hira that I have fulfilled his injunction, and I trust proved
myself ' a zealous, and consistent, and (I wish I could add) ahU

COMPROMISE BILL.

133

defender of Staffs Eights.' I have yet to settle with the Supreme
Court 
"'I am hurt — a plague of both the Houses — I am sped ! 'Tis not
so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but 'twill serve : ask
for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man.' "
The foregoing, and other letters that followed close upon it in
quick succession, show the diseased condition of body, and the excited
and feverish state of mind under which Mr. Eandolph was laboring
at this time. Thursday morning, 5 o'clock, Feb. 24, 1820.
" I have been up since half past three. My sensations are indes
cribable. The night before last I had a retum of the spasms. At
present I am free from pain ; but what I feel is worse than pain, un
less in its most acute form, and even then I think I cculd better bear
it. Whatever it be, something is passing in the nobler viscera of no
ordinary character. They have got a Missouri question there, that
threatens a divulsion of soul from body. Nausea in its worst form
(sea sickness) is not equal to what I feel. I have it slightly, accom
panied with a sinking of the spirits, a soul-sickness, a sensation
as if I should swoon away instantly ; meantime, diarrhoea is not idle,
frora twenty to fifty calls in the four and twenty hours. Every thing
I eat (only railk and crackers, heated over again in the oven) passes
unchanged. So did gruel when I took some well boiled and gelatinous.
" You will not see my name on the yeas and nays yesterday on the
Senate's bill. I could not remain in the house, the air of which is
unchanged for weeks. It smells like a badly kept comodite, (shouldn't
there be two ra's in' that word ?) and even worse, for you have in ad
dition to ordure and urine all the exhalations that overpowered Matt.
Bramble at a fashionable squeeze, and stale tobacco smoke into the
bargain ; cigars are smoked in the ante-room. The avenues to our
hall are narrow, mean, dark and dangerous, and when you pass the
first portal, you are assailed by a compound of villanous smells, which
is only a little more diluted when you emerge into light, or rather
darkness visible through cross lights that torture the eye.
" My faithful Juba is sick, very sick, and four nights ago I heard
him in his sleep cry out ^ I wish I and master was at home.' These
Yankees have almost reconciled me to negro slavery. They have
produced a revulsion even on my mind, what then must the effect be
on those who had no scruples on the subject. I ara persuaded that
the cause of humanity to these unfortunates has been put back a
century, certainly a generation, by the unprincipled conduct of am
bitious men, availing themselves of a good as well as of a fanatical
spirit in the nation.
" Tell Mrs. Brockenbrough that Mr. Meade makes anxious inqui-

134 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
ries about the state of her mind on the subject of religious opinions.
He and Frank Key are with us on the question. Frank has just re
turned from Frederick, where he was summoned a fortnight ago to
attend a (supposed) dying father. The old gentleman is recovering
slowly. What must it have been to have his bedside attended by
such a son ! He is indeed as near perfection as our poor nature can
go, although he would be shocked to hear it said. Severe to him
self, considerate and indulgent to others, speaking ill of none. Day
is breaking ; good morning."
" J. E. of E. to J, B., a letter, like Mrs, Eowe's, from the dead
to the living. Saturday, Fth. 26, 1820.
" Hear all ye nations ! Last evening the late J. E. of E. who is
' stone dead (the major) precisely ', went to Mrs. F  -h's ' cofv-
sort ' — said dead raan being like any other great personage deceased,
tired of ' toujours perdrix.' (N. B. : the plural of this French noun-
substantive is perdros, according to Mr. Speaker Clay, who has been
to Paris, aye, and to Ghent too ; and ought surely to know.) Why
shouldn't dead men enjoy a little variety as well as folks that talk in
their sleep in Congress ? — and there were ' lots of them ' there —
(see Tom Crib). The French lady proved to be a noun-adjective,
as old Lilly hath it, she ' could not stand by herself (or would not)
for after some execrable airs, at the beginning of the third (not the
third by at least thirty — it is Dogberry who, after ' sixthly and lastly'
brings in ' thirdly') she enacted something like a fit, and threw her
self into the arms of a gentleman (not a false concord I hope — I
trust it was her husband), whereupon the 'dead man' not the 'mas
ter of the rolls ' (he deals only in crackers) ' opened wide his mouth '
and called a coach and threw himself into it and drove home, not
sham-sick. I was heartily glad of our early dismission, and after an
almost sleepless night, me void, at my daily occupation, by day
break, boring you.
" I learn from a very direct source, that this lady was an obscure
girl, whora Mrs. B  11 ' patronized ' and placed at Mad. Eivaldi's
boarding-school ; where the protegee was shown off to the glory of
the patroness, and sung at Mad. E  's concerts and married one
of the teachers, and in short, has been used to exhibition and dis
play frora the egg-shell. I felt very much ashamed of being there,
not because the roora was mean and badly lighted, and dirty, and the
company ill dressed, but because I saw, for the first time, an Ameri
can woman singing for hire. I would import our actors, singers,
tumblers and jack-puddings, if Ve must have such cattle, from Eu
rope. Hyde de Neuville, a Frenchman, agreed with me, ' that although
the lady was universally admitted to be very amiable, it was a danger
ous example.' At first {on dit) she was unaffected and s^ng natu-

COMPROMISE BILL. 135
rally, and, I am told, agreeably enough, but now she is a bundle of
' affectations ' (as Sir Hugh hath it), and reminds me of the little
screech ' owels ' as they say on ' the south side} Her voice is not bad,
but she is utterly destitute of a single particle of taste or judgment.
Were she a lady and I in her company, my politeness should never
induce me to punish myself by asking her to sing.
" A member from Virginia, whose avoirdupois entitles him. to
weight, as well as his being a sort of commis to the P., told me yes
terday, ' that the tale in circulation of the P. having written a let
ter to Mr. Eoane, declaring his disapprobation of the compromise,
was an idle scandal, for that he had seen the letter (or rather that it
had been read to him) and there was no such sentiment expressed in
it.' Hem ! Pretty good ! Don't you think so ?
" When Mrs, F. was ' screeching,' I was strongly reminded of two
lines of a mock Methodist hymn, that poor John HoUingsworth used
to sing, when we were graceless youths at college —
" ' 0 ! that I, like Madame French,
Could raise my ' vice' on high.
Thy name should last like oaken bench,
To parpetui-ty}
" The same ' two single gentlemen rolled into one,' told rae that
M  e expressed a desire to maintain the relations Of peace and
amity and social intercourse, with rae ; that he did not stand upon
etiquette ; did not require any gentleman to fay him the respect of a
call in the first instance ; gave examples to that effect, some of which
I know to be true (N. B. election coming on), and that he should have
sent his invitations to me as well as to the rest, but that he thought
they would not be acceptable — that I had repelled, &c., &c., &c.
" Whereupon I said that I had not seen said great man but once
(Friday, the llth, riding by, after Mr. King's speech in the Senate)
since the Georgetown sheep-shearing, in the spring of 1812. That I
had called more than once that spring, on him and Madame, and not
at home was the invariable reply ; that he had invited Garnett, as it
were out of my own apartment that year, to dine with General Mo-
reau, Lewis and Stanford, the only M. C.'s that lodged there besides
myself, and omitted to ask me, who had a great desire to see Moreau ;
that I lacqueyed the heels of no great man ; that I had a very good
dinner at home, which I could not eat, although served at an hour
that I was used to ; and that I was very well, as I was, &c. Hodijah
Meade writes Archer that I am becoming popular, even in Amelia.
Perhaps the great raan has heard something to this effect.
"Write me volumes — all your news, chat, &c. Yesterday we
' settled the chat,' not by the rules of ' the Finish' (see Tom Crib), but
of the House of Commons, actually coughing, and scraping, and ' ques
tion' questioning some brave fellows'that made a stout resistance to

136 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
be heard, but were outnumbered. I was not party to the outrage —
did not cough nor cry, but I heard the speaker's voice above the rest.
G. T. spoke the last — promised us novelty at least, borrowed largely
frora Pinkney, P. Barbour, and your humble servant, during three
quarters of an hour that I listened to him, when I left him, I believe,
without a single auditor except Mr. Chairman C  b ! as very a
Johnny Eaw' as ever entered a ring. See again my standard au
thority, Tom Crib,"

CHAPTEE XIV.
"l NOW GO FOR blood" — MADNESS.
Imm^idiately on the settlement of that exciting subject — the Missouri
question — followed the death of Commodore Decatur, who fell in a
duel the 20th March, 1820, with Commodore Barron. This sad
event produced a shock throughout the coramunity. The gallant
searaan lived in the hearts of his countryraen. His untimely end
shrouded the country in mourning. The occasion, the manner, and
the place — not on the proud deck, in face of the enemies of his coun
try, added poignancy to their grief None felt more deeply on the
occasion than John Eandolph, They were friends, and they were kin
dred spirits. To lose so noble a soul from among the few whose love
he cherished, under such painful circumstances, and at a time when the
country could illy spare so gallant a heart, was more than his weak
frame could endure. Worn out with excessive watching and anx
iety on the raomentous question which had well nigh torn the Union
asunder, emaciated with disease bodily and mental, that for years had
known no intermission, with the keen sensibility of a woman, delicate
as a sensitive plant, this last calamity proved too rude an assault on
the nicely balanced, mysteriously wrought machinery of mind, which
went whirling and dashing in mad disorder, and defying for a time
the controlling influence of the master's will.
His conduct on the occasion of the funeral of Commodore Decatur
is said to have been very extravagant. The cold and heartless world.
that is unconscious of any thing else but a selfish motive, and the igno-

MADNESS. 157
rant multitude that followed the funeral pageant, with gaping mouth,
agreed on a common explanation of his extravagance by proclaiming
"^/ie man is mad .'"
That he might have been greatly excited in manner and conver
sation, and that he was wholly indifferent as to what other people
might say or think of him, is highly probable. All his friends agree that
his mind, from the cause above alluded to, had been wrought up to
the highest pitch of fervor, and that, like a highly-charged electric
battery, it threw off brilliant and fiery sparks that scorched and burnt
the uncautious person who had the temerity to approach too near.
This highly charged electric state of mind — it can be likened to
nothing else — lasted through the spring. Mr, Anderson, the Cashier
of the United States Branch Bank, in Eichmond, says that about the
20th of April, 1820, Mr, Eandolph came into the Bank and asked for
writing materials to write a check. He dipped his pen in the ink,
and finding that it was black, asked for red ink, saying, " I now go for
blood." He filled the check up, and asked Mr. Anderson to write his
name to it. Mr. Anderson refused to write hi^ name ; and after im
portuning that gentleman for some time, he called for black ink, and
signed John Eandolph, of Eoanoke, M his mark. He then called
for the porter, and sent the check to Mr. Taylor's, to pay an account,
" One day I was passing along the street," says Mr. Anderson, " when
Mr. Eandolph bailed me in a louder voice thau usual. The first
question he asked rae was, whether I knew of a good ship in the
James Eiver, in which he could get a passage for England. He said
he had been sick of a remittent and intermittent fever for forty days,
and his ^ysician said he must go to England. I told hira there
were no ships here fit for his accommodation, and that he had better
go to New-York, and sail frora that port. ' Do you think,' said he,
' I would give my money to those who are ready to make my negroes
cut my throat ? — if I cannot go to England from a Southern port I
will not go at all.' I then endeavored to think of the best course for
him to take, and told him there was a ship in the river. He asked
the name of the ship. I told him it was the ' Henry Clay.' He
threw up his arms and exclaimed ' Henry Clay ! no, sir ! I will never
step on the planks of a ship of that name.' He then appointed to
meet me at the bank at 9 o'clock. He came at the hour, drew sev
eral checks, exhaaisted his funds in the bank, and asked me for a set-

138 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
tlement of his account, saying he had no longer any confidence in the
State banks, and not much in the Bank of the United States; and
that he would draw all his funds out of the bank, and put them in
English guineas — that there was no danger of them."
Mr. Eandolph spent the suraraer, as usual, in retireraent at Eoan
oke — his excitement gradually wore away, and on the return of au
tumn he was hiraself again. " I saw him in the autumn of the sarae
year, 1 820, says a friend — he was then as perfectly in possession of
his understanding as I ever saw hira or any other raan." He return
ed to Washington about the latter part of November, and thus writes
to his friend Brockenbrough : Washington, Nov. 26, 1620.
Dr. Dudley informs me that you have been sick of the prevailing
Catarrh. If it has treated you as roughly as it has me, you have
found it to be no trifling complaint. By this time, I trust you are as
free from it as I have always found you to be from other undue in
fluences. My infirmities of body and mind, have nearly obliged me
to lay aside the use of the pen. I cannot see to make or mend one,
and am wholly at the mercy of our stationers, whose pens, like Peter
Pindar's razors, are " made to sell," and whose interest it is that fifty
bad pens should supply the place of one good one. Jndeed I have
little use for the instrument — the receipt of a letter being a rare
event in ray annals. I ought, perhaps, to take somewhat unkindly,
the withdrawal of my old correspondents from an intercourse so bene
ficial on my side, but I do not. A commerce in which the advanta
ges are all on one side will never be prosecuted long — what then must
be the case with a trade in which (as at present throughout the com
mercial world), both parties are losers.
The situation of public affairs, and of my own rajBi-e especially,
disturb my daily and nightly thoughts. I believe I must %^ make
up my mind to " overdraw," or to be " an unfortunate raau." Can
you put me in no way to become a successful rogue to an amount that
raay throw an air of dignity over the transaction, and divert the at
tention of the gaping spectators from the enormity of the offence, to
that of the sura ?
As to affairs here, I know nothing of thera. They are carried. on
by a correspondence between Heads of Houses — I do not mean in
the University sense of the term — but boarding-houses, who have an
understanding with some Patron in the Ministry, to whom they " re
port themselves," and from whom they " receive orders " from time to
time. I dined yesterday with the S. of the T., and, although as far as I
was concerned, the party was a very pleasant one, I can conceive of

MISSOURI QUESTION— ACT THE SECOND 139
nothing, in the general, more insipid than these Ministerial dinners.
You are invited at/»e. The usage is to be there 15 or 20 minutes
after the time. Dinner never served until six ; and a little after
seven coffee closes the entertainment, without the least opportunity for
conversation. Quant a moi, I was placed at his 8  ship's left hand,
and he did me the honor to address his conversation alraost exclu
sively to me. Now you know tliat as ' attentions ' constitute the
great charm of manners, so are they more peculiarly acceptable to
them that are least accustomed to them — such as antiquated belles,
discarded statesmen, and bankrupts of all sorts — whether in person
or in character.
" Nothing can be more dreary than the life we lead here. 'Tis
scmething like being on board ship, but not so various. We stupidly
doze over our sea-coal fires in our respective messes, and may truly
be said to hibernate at Washington."

CHAPTEE XV.
MISSOURI QUBSTIO.K — ACT THE SECOND.
Shortly after the opening of the session, this exciting subject again
came up in a most unexpected form. Missouri under the " com
promise act" of March the 6th, 1820, had adopted a constitution with
a clause declaring tha,t free negroes and mulattoes should not emigrate
into the State. It was contended that free negroes and mulattoes
were cHj^ens of the State of their residence ; and as such, under the
Gonstitiition, had a right to remove to Missouri or any other State
in the Union, and there enjoy all the privileges and immunities of
other citizens of the United States emigrating to the same place ;
and, therefore, that the clause in the constitution of Missouri, above
alluded to, was repugnant to the constitution of the United States,
arid she ought not to be admitted into the Union. On the other hand
it was maintained that the African race, whether bond or free, were
not parties to our political institutions ; that therefore, free negroes
and mulattoes were not citizens, within the meaning of the constitu
tion of the United States ; and that even if the constitution of Mis
souri were repugnant to that of the United States, the latter was par-

140 LIFE OF JOHN KANDODPH.
amount, and would overrule the conflicting provision of the poweT
without the interference of Congress,
Notwithstanding the reasonableness of this view of the subject^
a stern and inflexible majority, the sarae as at the last session, re
pelled every proposition, in every form, which aimed at the reception
of the offending State, Scarcely a day elapsed that did not bring up.
the question in some shape or other. The presidential election had;
taken place in November preceding ; it became the duty of the Pre
sident of the Senate, in presence of the other House, to count th©
votes of the States. The Senate being present, and their President
having counted the votes of all the other States, opened the package
containing the vote of the State of Missouri, and handed it to the
tellers to be counted. Mr. Livermore, of New Hampshire, objected',
because Missouri was not a State of this Union. The Senate theu
withdrew. In the House the following resolution was then submitted :
" Eesolved — That Missouri is one of the States of this Union, and
her vote ought to be received and counted." An aniraated debate
ensued, in which Mr. Eandolph largely participated. We shall only
bring together here, under one view, what he said on the constitu
tional question involved in the controversy. No man had a clearer
perception of the meaning and spirit of that sacred insirument, more
highly valued it as a government when prCperly administered, or did
more, as the reader will see in the sequel, to restore it to its proper
interpretation. Mr. Eandolph said—" He could not recognize in this House, or
the other, singly or conjointly, the power to decide on the votes of
any State. Suppose you strike out Missouri and insert SoiJIh Caro--
Una, which has also a provision in its Constitution repugnant to the
Constitution of the United States; or Virginia, or Massachusetts,
which had a test, he believed, in its Constitution ; was there any less
power to decide on J;heir votes than on those of Missouri ? He main
tained that the electoral college was as independent of Congress as'
Congress was of them ; and we have no right to judge of their pro
ceedings. He would rather see an interregnum, or have no votes
counted, than see a principle adopted which went to the very founda
tion on which the presidential office rested. Suppose a case in which
.some gentlemen of one House or the other should choose to object to'
the vote of some State, and say that if it be thus, such a person is
elected ; if it be otherwise, another person is elected ; did any body
ever see the absurdity of such a proposition ? He deemed the course

MISSOURI -QUESTION— ACT THE SECOND. 141
pursued erroneous, and in a vital part, on the ascertainment of the
person who had been elected by the people Chief Magistrate of the
United States, the most important office under the Constitution.
* * * * She has now presented herself (Missouri) for the first time
in a visible and tangible shape ; she comes into this House, not in
forind pauperis, but claiming to be one of the co-sovereignty of this
confederated government, and presents to you her vote, by receiving or
rejecting which the election of your Chief Magistrate will fee lawful
or unlawful. He did not mean by the vote of Missouri, but by the
votes of all the States.
" Now comes the question, whether we will not merely repel her,
but repel her with scorn and contumely. Cui }ono ? she might add,
quo warranto 1 He should like to hear frora the gentleman from
New Hampshire (Mr. Livermore) where this House gets its authority.
He should like to hear some of the learned (or unlearned) sages of
the land, with which this House, as well as all our legislative bodies,
abounds, show their authority for refusing to receive tbe votes of
the State ot Missouri. He went back to first principles. The elec
toral colleges are as independent of this House as we are of them.
They had as good a right to pronounce on their qualifications as this
House has of its members. Your offi-ee in regard to the electoral votes,
is merely ministerial — io count the votes — and you undertake to re
ject votes ! To what will this lead ? * * * * The wisest men may
make Constitutions on paper, as they please. What was the theory
of this Constitution ? It is that this House, except upon a certain
contingency, has nothing to do with the appointraent of President and
Vice-President of the United States, and by States only can it act on
this subject, unless it transcend the limits of the Constitution. What
was to be the practice of the Constitution as now proposed ? Thai
an informal meeting of this and the other House is te usurp the ini
tiative, the norainativ* power, with regard to the two first officers of
the government ; thai they are to wrest from the people their inde
feasible right of telling ms whom they wish to exercise the functions
of government, in despite and contempt of their decision. Is there
to be no limit to the power of Congress ? no mound or barrier to stay
their usurpation ? Why were the electoral bodies established ? The
Constitution has wisely provided that they shall assemble, each by
itself, and not by one great assembly. By this means, assuredly, that
cystem of intrigue which was matured into a science, or rather into
an art here, was guarded against. But he ventured to say, the electo
ral college of this much despised Missouri, acting conformably
to law and to the genius and nature of our institutions, if it were
composed of but one man, was as independent of this House as
the House was of it. ***** £,et me tell my friend before
ane ;(Mr. Archer), we have not the power which he thinks we pos-

142 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
sess , and if there be a casus omissus in the Constitution, I want
to know where we are to supply the defect. You may keep Missouri
out of the Union by violence, but here the issue is joined, and
she coraes forward in the persons of her electors, instead of repre
sentative, and she was thus presented in a shape as unquestion
able as that of New-York or Pennsylvania, or the proudest and
oldest State in the Union. Will you deny them adraission ? Will
you thrust her electors, and hers only, from this hall ? I made no
objection to the vote of New Hampshire ; I, had as good a right to
object to the vote of New Hampshire, as the gentleman from New
Hampshire had to object to the vote of Missouri. The electors of
Missouri were as rauch the hominus probi et legales as those of New
Hampshire. This was no skirmish, as the gentleman from Virginia
had called it. This was the battle where Greek meets Greek. IjCt
us 'fuckle on our armor, let us put aside all this flummery, these
raetaphysical distinctions, these unprofitable drawings of distinc
tions without differences ; let us say now, as we have on another oc
casion (the election of Jefferson and Burr in 1801), 'we will assert,
raaintain, and vindicate our rights, or put to every hazard, what you
pretend to hold in such high estimation,' ".
These arguments, which clearly prove the false and absurd and
dangerous position assumed by the House on the Missouri question,
were of none avail. And yet a simple truism — a mere nullity in fact,
in the shape of a compromise resolution, had the effect of magic in heal
ing all the differences that had arisen between the respective parties.
Another sad example of the blindness and obstinacy of men, when
passion assumes sway of their cooler judgment.
Mr. Eandolph participated in the debate on other subjects during
this session of Congress.
"Yesterday," says, he in a letter dated January Sth, 1821, "we
had a triumph over the ' veteran Swiss of State ' and the S. of W. on
the appropriation to cover Indian arrearages. He (C  n) is po
litically dead. L  s, towards the close of the debate, ' put in ' and
imputed want of economy to the Committee of Ways and Means
when I was a meraber. This gave me an opportunity to contrast the
military expenditure of 1803-4-5 of 800,000—800,000, and 700,000,'
respectively with the modern practice. In 1804 we took possession
of New Orleans (an event utterly unlocked for) without incurring
one farthing of additional expense. Mr. L  s looked very foolish,
and uglier than usual. Mr. M. of S. C. (the successor of Mr!
C  n's man Friday) made several attempts, I was told, to get
the fioor, in his patron's defence, but his timidity prevented success.
* * * * You will see a most villainous report of yesterday's proceed-

MISSOURI QUESTION— ACT THE SECOND. 143
ings, in the court paper. The r  1 pretends he can't hear rae.
There was not a man in the House that did not hear me. It is a
usual massacre. Pray ask Eitchie not to publish it. I will correct
it for his paper, and send it on, that the people of Virginia at least
may be undeceived. I am raade to talk nonsense, such as ' kissing
of hands ' for 'imposition of hands.' There is a studied and de
signed suppression of what passed."
Besides Mr. Eandolph, Nathaniel Macon, of North Carolina, and
Spencer Eoane, Chief Justice of Virginia, were the most conspicu
ous State-rights raen in that time of amalgamation and confusion of
all parties. They were ever consistent and uniform in their adher
ence to the principles of the strict construction school, and always
urgent for those measures of economy and that course of " wise and
masterly inactivity,'' which must ever characterize a party based on
such principles. Of the former of those gentlemen Mr. Eandolph
was the mess-mate while in Congress, and on terms of unreserved
daily intercourse ; with Judge Eoane he did not pretend to stand on
a footing of intimacy ; but he respected his virtues, his talents, his
long services, and had begun to look to him as a fit person to be se
lected by " all the honest men" as a candidate for the presidency.
" With the exception of my old friend, Mr. Macon," says he to
Dr. Brockenbrough, " you are the only person with whom I hold any
intercourse, except of that heartless sort which prevails in what is
called the world. Your letters, therefore, are as much missed by me
as would be an only member of one's family who should disappear at
breakfast and leave one to a solitary and cheerless meal. So much
of your penultimate as relates to Mr. M  I shall take the liberty
to communicate to one of the N. C. delegation. I am truly concerned
at your anticipations respecting Mr. Eoane's health. I earnestly
hope that your presage may prove fallacious, although, when I refiect
on your skill and intimate knowledge of the raan, I feel very appre
hensive of its truth. -
" I began Fabricius, but was obliged to drop it. He sets out
with a string of truisms conveyed in the style of a schoolboy's theme.
Mercy upon us ! What has become of the intellect and taste of our
country? Your secrt is as safe with me as in your own breast; but
rely upon it, if either of the personages you mention should present
any thing fit to be offer^ to the H. of D. it will be ascribed to some
other hand, and, if it smack of the ¦ old school, to the pen of Mr.
Eoane. I differ frora you about ' his being a Virginian ;' not that I
doubt the fact. But take ray word for it, he is becoming every day
more and raore known out of the State, and occupies a large snace

144 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
in the public eye. I think he can be elected easily against any one
yet talked of"
" I read Mr. Eoane's letter," says he on another occasion, " with
the attention that it deserves. Every thing from his pen on the sub
ject of our laws and institutions excites a profound interest. I was
highly gratified at the manner in which it was spoken of in my hear
ing by one of the best and ablest men in our House. It is indeed high
time that the hucksters and money-changers should be cast out of the
Temple of justice. The tone of this communication belongs to ano
ther age ; but for the date, who could suppose it to have been written
in this our day of almost universal political corruption ? I did not
road the report on the lottery case. The print of the Enquirer is too
much for my eyes ; and, besides, I want no arguraent to satisfy me
that the powers which Congress may exercise, where they possess ex
clusive jurisdiction, may not be extended to places where they pos
sess solely a limited and concurrent jurisdiction. The very statement
of the guestion settles it, and every additional word is but an incum
brance of help."
In the same letter he says :
" If I possessed a talent that I "once thought I had, I would try
to give you a picture of Washington. The state of things is the
strangest imaginable ; but I am like a speechless person who has the
clearest conception of what he would say, but whose organs refuse to
perform their office. There is one striking fact that one can't help
seeing at the first glance — that there is no faith among men ; the
state of political confidence raay be corapared to that of the comraer
cial world within the last two or three years. ***** Our State
politics, like those of the General Government, are a conundrum to
me, and I leave the unriddling of them to the ingenious writers who
construct and solve enigmas and charades for the magazines. * * * *
" I have been trying to read Southey's Life of Wesley for some
days. Ujion the whole, I find it a heavy work, although there are
some very striking passages, and it abounds in curious information.
From 279 to 285 inclusive of volume the second is very fine. Yes
terday I was to have dined with Frank Key, but was not well enough
to go. He called here the day before, and we had much talk toge
ther. He perseveres in pressing on towards the goal, and his whole
life is spent in endeavoring to 'do good for his unhappy fellow-men.
The result is, that he enjoys a tranquillity of mind, a sunshine of the
soul, that all the Alexanders of the earth can neither confer nor take
away. This is a state to which I can never jittain. I have made up
my mind to suffer like a man condemned to the wheel or the stake.
Strange as you raay think it, I could submit without a murraur to
pass the rest of my life ' on some high lonely tower, where I might
ontwateh the bear with thrice great Hermes,' and exchange the enjoy-

HIS VflhL. 145
ments of society for an exemption from the plagues of life. These
press rae down to the very earth ; and to rid rayself of them, I would
gladly purchase an annuity and crawl into some hole, where I raight
commune with myself and be still." "Thursdat, March 1, 1821.
" I am in luck this morning. Johnny has brought me a letter from
you instead of returning from the Post-offi'ce empty handed as usual.
It gives rae great satisfaction to find that the good people of my dis
trict are not dissatisfied with ray course this winter.
" Last night there was, as I am informed by the gentlemen of our
club, a most disgraceful scene in the H. of E. on the Bankrupt bill,
which, by virtue of the previous question, will be forced through the
House without being committed, or even once read ! except by its
title — ^a bill of 65 sections !
" The bankrupt land speculators and broken merchants are, like
' the sons of Zeruiah, too strong for us.' So you see our coronation
will be graced by a general jail delivery.
" Mrs. Brockenbrough's rheumatism, which is an opprobrivm of
medicine, gives me real concern. I sympathize with her in the liter
al sense of the term.
" My pains are aggravated by having neither society nor books to
relieve my ennui.
" ' You mention whatever comes into your head' — To be sure you
ought. It is the charra of a letter.
"The gentlemen you raention are right in their ' attentions' to
Miss  . I consider the society of such a woman as the best possi
ble school for a young man, and solace for an old one.
I have not read Col. Taylor's book, but I heartily igree with Mr.
Jefferson that ' the Judiciary gravitates towards consolidation.'
I consider this district to be the ttovo-tco and the Supremo Court to be
the lever of the political Archimedes. I do not know whether you
can raake out my Greek character.
" I give you joy that this is the last epistle that you will be plagued
with from me from this place."

CHAPTEE XVI.
"be NOT SOLITARY; BE NOT IDLE." HIS WILL — SLAVES,
Mr. Eandolph's solitary residence at Eoanoke had become more
and more intolerable to him. " The boys'' were off at school. Dr.
Dudley, at his solicitation, had moved to Eichmond, and he was like
VOL. II. 7

146 Lai's OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
the "Ancient Mariner" on the wide sea — "alone — alone — all — ^all
alone !"
" You do not overrate the solitariness," says he, " of the life I lead
here. It is dreary beyond conception, except byl(the actual sufferer,
I can only acquiesce in it, as the lot in which I have been cast by
the good providence of God, and endeavor to bear it, and the daily
increasing infirmities, which threaten total helplessness, as well as I
may. ' Many long weeks have passed since you heard from me' — and
why should I write ? To say that I have made another notch in my
tally ? or to enter upon the monstrous list of grievances, mental and
bodily, which egotism itself could scarcely bear to relate, and none oth
er to listen to. You say truly : ' there is no substitute' for what you
name, ' that can fill the heart.' The better conviction has long ago rush
ed upon my own, and arrested its functions. Not that it is without its
paroxysms, which, I thank heaven, itself alone is conscious of Perhaps
I am wrong to indulge in this vein ; but I must write thus or not at all.
No punishment, except remorse, can exceed the misery I feel. My
heart swells to bursting, at past recollections ; and as the present is
without enjoyment, so is the future without hope ; so far at lej.st, as
respects this world.
" Here I am yearning after the society of sorae one who is not
merely indifferent to me, and condemned, day after day, to a solitude
like Eobinson Crusoe's. But each day brings my captivity and ex
lie nearer to their end."
To Dr. Brockenbrough, June 12th, he says: — "This letter is
written as children whistle in the dark, to keep themselves from being
afraid. I dare not look upon that ' blank and waste of the heart'
within. Dreary, desolate, dismal — there is no word in our language,
or any other, that can express the misery of my life. I drag on like
a tired captive at the end of a slave-chain in an African Coffle. I go
because I must. But this is worse than the sick man's tale."
Frora this solitude he sent forth lessons that should be graven on
the heart of every young raan. His own sad experience adds weight
to his precepts. Out of the deep anguish of his heart poured forth
the words of wisdom. His admonitions give a sure guide to the be
wildered mind, and cheering hope to the depressed spirit. No young
man can give heed to them and follow them, without finding to his
joy that he has hit upon the true and only path of success in human
life — he will find that activity, cheerful activity, in some useful call
ing in daily intercourse with his fellow man, is the business, the
solace, and the charra of existence.
" The true cure for maladies like yours, " says he to Dr. Dudley,

HIS WILL. Ki
who had written in a desponding tone, "is employment, 'Be not soli
tary ; be not idle !' was all that Burton could advise, Eely upon it,
life was not given us to be spent in dreams and reverie, but for ac
tive, useful exertion ; exertion that turns to some account to our
selves or to others — not laborious idleness — (I say nothing about re
ligion, which is between the heart and its Creator.) This preaching
is, I know, foolish enough ; but let it pass. We have all two educa
tions ; one we have given to us — the other we give ourselves ; and
after a certain time of life, when the character has taken its ply, it i.»
idle to attempt to change it.
" If I did not think it would aggravate your symptoras, I would
press you to come here. In the sedulous study and practice of your
profession I hope you will find a palliative, if not a complete cure,
for your moral disease. Yours is the age of exertion — ^the prime and
vigor of life. But I have ' fallen into the sear and yellow leaf: and that
which should accompany old age, as honor, love, obedience, troops of
friends, {-Regan — What need owe?') I must not look to have; but,
in their stead  .'
" Eely upon it, you are entirely mistaken in your estimate of the
world. Bad as it is, mankind are not quite so silly as you suppose.
Look around you, and see who are held in the highest esteem. I will
name one — Mr. Chief Justice. It is not the ' rogue' who gains the
good opinion of his own sex, or of the other. It is the raan, who by
the exercise of the faculties which nature and education have given
him, asserts his place among his fellows ; and, whilst useful to all
around him, establishes his claim to their respect, as an equal and
independent member of society. He may have every other good
quality under heaven ; but, wanting this, a man becomes an object
of pity to the good, and of contempt to the vile. Look at Mr. Leigh,
his brother Williara, Mr. Wickham, Dr. Brockenbrough, &c., &c.,
and compare them with the drones which society is impatient to
shake from its lap.
" One of the best and wisest raen I ever knew has often said to
me, that a decayed family could never recover its loss of rank in the
world, until the merabers of it left off talking and dwelling upon its
former opulence. This reraark, founded in a long and close observa
tion of mankind, I have seen verified, in num jrous instances, in my
own connections ; who, to use the words of my -oracle, ' will never
thrive, until they can becorae " poor folks :" ' he added, ' they may
make some struggles, and with apparent success, to recover lost
ground ; they may, and sometimes do, get half way up again ; but
they are sure to fall back ; unless, reconciling themselves to circum
stances, thej l^ecome in form, as well as in fact, poor folks.'
" The. blind pursuit of wealth, for the sake of hoarding, is a species
of insanity. There are spirits, and not the least worthy, who, eon-

148 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
tent with an humble mediocrity, leave the field of wealth and ambi
tion open to more active, perhaps more guilty, competitors. Nothing
can be more respectable than the independence that grows ont of
self-denial. The man who, by abridging his wants, can find time to
devote to the cultivation of his mind, or the aid of his fellow-crea
tures, is a being far above the plodding sons of industry and galB.'
His is a spirit of the noblest order. But what shall we say to the
drone, whom society is eager ' to shake from her encumbered lap ?' —
who lounges from place to place, and spends more time in ' Adoniz-
ing' his person, even in a morning, than would serve to earn his
breakfast ? — who is curious in his living, a connoisseur in wines, fas
tidious in his cookery ; but who never knew the luxury of earning a
single meal ? Such a creature, ' sponging' from house to house, and
always on the borrow, may yet be found in Virginia. One raore
generation will, I trust, put an end to them ; and their posterity, if
they have any, must work or steal directly.
" Men are like nations : one founds a family, the other an empire ;
both destined, sooner or later, to decay. This is the way in which
ability manifests itself. They who belong to a higher order, like
Newton, and Milton, and Shakspeare, leave an imperishable name.
I have no quarrel with such as are content with their original obscu
rity, vegetate on from father to son ; ' whose ignoble blood has crept
through clodpoles ever since the flood ;" but I cannot respect them.
He who contentedly eats the bread of idleness and dependence is
beneath contempt.
" Noscitur e socio. ' Tell me your company and I will tell you
what you are.' But there is another description of persons, of far
inferior turpitude, against all connection with whora, of whatsoever
degree, I would seriously warn you. This consists of raen of broken
fortunes, and all who are loose on the subject of pecuniary engage
ments. Time was, when I was fool enough to believe that a raan
might be negligent of such obligations, and yet a very good fellow,
&c. ; but long experience has convinced me that he who is lax in this
respect is utterly unworthy of trust in any other. He might do an
occasional act of kindness (or what is falsely called generosity) when
it lay in his way, and so may a prostitute, or a highwayman ; but he
would plunge his nearest friends and dearest connections, the wife
of his bosom, and the children of his loins, into misery and want,
rather than forego thfe momentary gratiflcation of appetite, vanity, or
laziness. I have come to this conclusion slowly and painfully, but
certainly. Of the Shylocks, and the smooth-visaged men of the
world, I think as I believe you do. Certainly, if I were to seek for
the hardest of hearts, the most obdurate, unrelenting, and cruel, I
should flnd them among the raost selfish of raankind. And who are
the most selfish ? The usurer, the courtier, and above all, the spend'

HIS WILL. 149
thrift. Try them once as creditors, and you will find, that even the
Shylocks, we wot of, are not harder.
" You know my opinion of female society. Without it, we should
degenerate into brutes. This observation applies with tenfold force
to young men, and those who are in the prime of manhood ; for, after
a certain time of life, the literary man may make a shift (a poor one,
I grant) to do without the society of ladies. To a young man, nothing
is so important as a spirit of devotion (next to his Creator) to some
virtuous and amiable woman, whose image may occupy his heart, and
guard it from the pollution which besets it on all sides. Neverthe
less, I trust that your fondness for the company of ^adies may not rob
you of the time which ought to be devoted to reading and meditating
on your profession ; and, above all, that it raay not acquire for you
the reputation of dangler — in itself bordering on the contemptible,
and seriously detrimental to your professional character. A cautious
old Squaretoes, who might have no objection to employing such a one
at the bar, would, perhaps, be shy of introducing him as a practitioner
in his faraily, in case he should have a pretty daughter, or niece, or
sister ; although all experience shows, that of all raale animals, the
dangler is, the most harmless to the ladies, who quickly learn, with
the intuitive sagacity of the ses, to make a convenience of him, while
he serves for a butt, also.
" Eely upon it, that to love a woman as ' a mistress,' although a
delicious delirium — an intoxication far surpassing that of Cham
pagne — is altogether unessential, na.j, pernicious, in the choice of a
wife ; which a man ought to set about in his sober senses, choosing
her, as Mrs. Primrose did her wedding-gown, for qualities that ' wear
well.' I am well persuaded that few love-matches are happy ones. One
thing, at least, is true, that if matrimony has its cares, celibacy has
no pleasures. A Newton, or a raere scholar, may find employment in
study ; a man of literary taste can receive, in books, a powerful
auxiliary ; but a man must have a bosom friend, and children around
him, to cherish and support the dreariness of old age."
Just as he was about to leave home for Washington, the first of
December, 1821, while his horses were at the door, and he booted
and spurred, and Johnny and his travelling companion, Eichard
Eandolph, impatiently waiting for him in the cold, Mr. Eandolph sat
down and wrote his will — the will which, after a long contest, was
finally established as his last will and testament.
In May, 1819, he wrote a will, and deposited it with Dr. Brocken
brough, to the following effect :
" I give to my slaves their freedom, to which my conscience tells
me they are justly entitled. It has a long time been a matter of tho

150 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
deepest regret to me, that the circumstances under which I inherited
them, and the obstacles thrown in the way by the laws of the land,
have prevented ray emanoipating thera in my ^lifetime, which it is my
full intention to do, in case I can accomplish it.
" All the rest and residue of ray estate (with the exceptions here
after made), whether real' or personal, I bequeath to William Leigh,
Esquire, of Halifax, attorney at law, to the Eev. Wm. Meade, of
Frederick, and to Francis Scott Key, Esqr., of Georgetown, District
of Columbia, in trust, for the following uses and purposes, viz:
1st. To provide one "or more tracts of land in any of the States or
Territories, not exceeding in the whole four thousand acres, nor less
than two thousand acres, to be partitioned and apportioned by them,
in such manner as to them may seem best, among the said slaves-
2d. To pay the expense of their removal, and of furnishing them with
necessary cabins, clothes, and utensils." Then follow other pro
visions. The will of 1821 is substantially the same as the above.
The first item is : "I give and bequeath to all my slaves their free
dom, heartily regretting that I have ever been the owner of one.
2. I give to my executor a sum not exceeding eight thousand dol
lars, or so much thereof as may be necessary, to transport and settle
said slaves to and in some other State or Territory of the United
States, giving to all above the age of forty not less than ten acres of
land each."
He then raakes a special annuity to his '' old and faithful servants,
Essex and his wife Hetty" — the sarae allowance to his "woman-
servant, Nancy " — to Juba (alias Jupiter) — to Queen — and to Johnny,
his Dody-servant.
In the codicil of 1826, he says: "I do hereby confirm the be
quests to or for the benefit of each and every of my slaves, whether
by name or otherwise."
In 1828, "Being in great extremity, but in my perfect senses,"
says he, " I write this codicil to my will in the possession of my
friend, Williara Leigh, of Halifax, Esquire, to declare that that will
is my sole last will and testament ; and that if any other be found of
subsequent date, whether will or codicil, I do hereby revoke the
same." Ina codicil of 1 83 1 , Mr . Eandolph says : " On tbe eve of embark-
ing for the United States (he was then in London), considering my

HIS WILL. 151
feeble health, to say nothing of the dangers of the seas, I add this
codicil to my last will and testament and codicils thereto, affirming
them all, except so faT. as they may be inconsistent with the follow
ing disposition of my estate." The third item of disposition is this :
" I have upwards of two thousand pounds sterling in the hands of Baring
Brothers & Co., of London, and upwards of one thousand pounds,
like money, in the hands of Gowan and Marx. This mjney I leave
to ray executor, Wra. Leigh, as a fund for carrying into execution my
will respecting my slaves ; and, in addition to the provision which I
have made for my faithful servant John, sometimes called John
White, I charge my whole estate with an annuity to hira, during his
life, of fifty dollars, and as the only favor I ever asked of any govern
ment, I do entreat the Assembly of Virginia to permit the said John
and his family to remain in Virginia."
And finally, in his dying hour, he gathered witnesses around himj
and when the spirit was trembling to escape from the frail tenement
that bound it, sumraoned all his energies in one last moment, and con
firmed, in the most solemn form, before God and those witnesses, all
the dispositions he had made in his will, in regard to his slaves.
" More especially," said he, " in regard to this man I" bringing down
his hand with force and energy on the shoulder of John, who stood
weeping beside the couch of his expiring master and greatest benefactor.
Let the reader pause and reflect on these things ; here are deeds,
not promises — facts that speak for themselves ; they need no addition,
no embellLshraent. Here is a raan who made no pretensions to phi
lanthropy — despised the pretence of it. The hypocritical cant, for
ever prating about it, pouring forth its cheap abundance of words, but
which, unaccompanied with substantial works of true charity, are as
Sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal. Here is a man who cavilled
for the nineteenth part of a hair in a matter of sheer right — who
would adrait no compromise in the Missouri question, and was ready
to put every thing to hazard in vindication of the rights of the South.
" I now,'' says he, on that occasion, " appeal to this nation, whether
this pretended sympathy for the rights of a few free negroes is to su
persede the rights bf the free white population, of ten times their whole
number." These words were uttered in February, 1821. In Decem
ber following the same man made free, and provid'-d for the comfort
able raaintenance of three hundred negro slaves Is there a raan of

152 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
that majority that voted against him, with all their professed' symTpH'
thy, who would have done likewise ? And how completely has been
fulfilled the prophecy of Mr. Eandolph, uttered on the occasion of
the Missouri agitation—" I am persuaded that the cause of humanity
to these unfortunates, has been put back a century — certainly a gene
ration — by the unprincipled conduct of ambitious men, availing them
selves of a good as well as of a fanatical spirit, in the nation."
There can be no doubt, that if the agitation of this "lavery ques
tion had not been comraenced and ferraented by raen who had no pos
sible connection with it, and who, from the nature of the case, could
have no other motive but political ambition and a spirit of aggression ;
had that subject been left as we found it, under the compromises of
the Constitution, and the laws of God and conscience, aided by an en
lightened understanding of their true interests — ^been left to work their
silent, yet irresistible influences on the minds of men, there can be
no doubt that thousands would have followed the example of John
Eandolph, in Virginia, Maryland, Kentucky, and Missouri, and that
long ere this, raeasures would have been adopted for the final, though
gradual, extinguishment of slavery within their borders ; as it is, that
event has again been put off" for another generation.

CHAPTEE XVII.
LOG-BOOK AND LETTERS.
" As one of the very few persons in the world (Dr. Brokenbrough)
who really care whether I sink or swim, I am induced to send you
the following extract from my log-book ; relying on your partiality to
excuse the egotism ; and if you experience but the tenth part of the
pleasure I felt on reading your account of your November jaunt, I
shall be rauch gratified, as well as yourself : —
" 1821, December 10th, Monday, half-past 11, A. M. Left Eich
mond. Four railes beyond the oaks met Mrs. T  ^b and poor Mrs.
E  h. Beached Underwood half-an-hour by run, and pushed on
to Sutter's, where I arrived quarter past five. Very comfortable quar
ters. Eoad heavy.
" llth, Tuesday. Breakfasted at eight A. M., and reached Batta-
der by quarter past twelve. Fed my horses and arrived at Freder-

LOG-BOOK AND LEI'l'ERS. I53
icksburg half-past three. Eoad heavy. Mansfield lane almost im
passable. Excellent fare at Gray's, and the finest oysters I have seen
for this ten year.
" 12th, Wednesday. Hard frost. Left Fredericksburg at nine,
A. M. Beached Stafford, C. H., at half-past eleven, Dumfries at five
minutes past three, P, M., and Occoguon at half past five. I made
no stop except to breathe the horses, from Dumfries to Neabsco, sixty-
live minutes three and a half miles. The five railes beyond Dumfries
oinployed nearly two hours. Eoads indescribable,
"13th, Thursday. Snow; part heavy rain. Waited until meri
dian, when, foreseeing that if the roads froze in their then state, they
would be impassable ; and that the waters between me and Alexan
dria would be out perhaps for several days, I set out in the height of
the storm, and through a torrent of mud, and water, and sloughs of
all degrees of viscidity, I got to Alexandria before five, where a fine
canvas-back, and divers other good things, set my blood into circula
tion, " 14th, Friday. Bitter cold. Beached Washington half-past
eleven. House does not sit to-day. Funeral. No southern mail.
Waters out.
"15th. Very cold. No southern mail. Waters out. Just beyond
Pohick I met a man driving a double chair.
" J. E. — ' Pray, sir, can I ford Accotink ?'
" Traveller. — • If you drive brisk perhaps you may'
" J. E. — ' Did you cross it, sir ?'
" T. — ' Yes ; but it is rising very fast'
" As I pressed ray little mare on, or rather as she pushed on after
comrade and Johnny, I thought of Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour,
of the old Gabertunzie, as, in breathless anxiety, they turned the
head-land, and found the water-mark under water. Pohick, a most
dangerous ford at all times, from the nature of the bend of the stream,
which is what is called a kettle-bottom, was behind me, and no retreat
and no house better than old Lear's hovel, except the church, where
were no materials for a fire. When I reached Accotink, the sand
bank in the middle of the stream was uncovered ; but for near a mile
I was up to the saddle-skirts. A great price, my good sir, for the
privilege of franking a letter, and the honor of being overlooked by
the great men, new as well as old.
" Just at the bridge over Hunting Creek, beyond Alexandria, I
met the mail cart and its solitary driver. The fog was Cimmerian.
" J. E. — ' How far do you go to-night, friend ?'
i'. B. — ' To Stafford Court-house, sir. Can I ford the Accotink ?'
" J. E. — ' I think you may ; but it will be impossible before mid
night : I ara really sorry for you.'
"D. — 'God bless your honor'
VOL. n. 7*

154 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
"I am satisfied this poor fellow encounters every night dangers
and sufferings in comparison with which those of our heroes are flea
bites. " Friday morning. Your letter of the 25th (Christmas day) did
not reach me until this morning. I have been long mourning over
the decline of our old Christmas sports and pastimes, which have
given way to a spirit of sullen fanaticism on the one hand,, or affected
fashionable refinement on the other, which thinly veils the selflshness
and inhospitality it is designed to cover. Your own letter raay be
cited as a proof that I ara no grumbler (in this instance at least) at
the times, although friend Lancaster, after puffing rae in his wfty,
was moved by the spirit (when I would not subscribe to his books) to
say that the character I disclaimed in the H. of E. was the one that
fitted me. ' Difficilis, querulus, laudatur temporis acti.' You date
on Christmas day ; you do not make the least mention of the season,
into such ' desuetude ' has the commemoration of the nativity of the
great Eedeemer fallen. On the eve of that day P  a gave a grand
diplomatic dinner, at which Messrs. les Envoyes enrages were pre
sent, but held no intercourse. At this dinner J. Q. A. (the cub is a
greater bear than the old one) gave this toast, rising from his chair
at the time : ' Alexander the Great, Emperor of all the Eussias, and
the Cross.' Cross vs. Crescent, I presume ; and no doubt M. P  a
wrote to his court, announcing ' the disposition of this government
towards Eussia.' He is a wretched ass (this P.), who is writing a
book on America, and whom every body quizzes. Some very laugh
able instances of this have been related to me. Travelling through
Ohio, he was as rauch scandalized as John Wesley by the want of a
oomraodite, and took the host to task about it. The fellow gravely
assured him that were he to erect such a teraple to a heathen and
obscure deity, the people would rise'in arras and burn it to the ground ;
and this raystification completely took, and was clapped down in
P  's notes. I expect to see it under the head of state of religion.
" To return. The next day the parties were reconciled, and all is
hushed up. Yesterday, I had the honor of a visit from M. I'Envoye
de sa Majeste tres Chretienne and the Secretary of Legation. This
great honor and distinction (for such the folks here deera it) I sus
pect I owe to the exercise of a quality for which I have not, I fear
been greatly distinguished ; I mean discretion ; for, although I was'
present, I refused to be a, referee, when applied to frora various quar
ters, on the subject of the quarrel. ' I did not hesitate to say that cer
tain very offensive words iraputed to de N. were not uttered by him ;
but I declined giving any account of the raatter, except to my old
friend, Mr. Macon, and one other person, forbidding the mentioning
of my name under the strongest sanctions.
"On reading over the above, I perceive that it is 'horribly

LOG-BOOK AND LETTERS. I55
stuffed' with scraps of French. This apparent affectation (for it is
only apparent) is owing to a silly falling in with the fashion in this
place, where the commonest English word or phrase is generally ren
dered in (not always good) French.
" I showed your letter to my most discreet friend, Mr. Macon,
He concurs with me that the first part (relative m the chair) of what
you heard is pretty much ' all ray eye, Betty ; ' but will not agree as
to the remainder, which I class under the same head. Else how
comes the greatest latitudinarian in our State, and a professed one
too. who acknowledges no ' law,' but his favorite one of circumstances,
a bank man, or any thing you please, to have received greater and
more numerous marks of the favor of the Legislature of Virginia
(recent ones too) than any citizen in it, the three last Presidents ex
cepted ? I detest mock-modesty, and will not deny that if I had the
disposition, and could undergo the labor, (neither of which is the case,)
I might acquire a certain degree of influence in the House, chiefly
confined, however, to the small minority of old-fashioned EepubUcans.
As to the first station, there was a time in which I might not have
disgraced it, for I had quickness and a perfect knowledge of our
rules and orders, with a competent acquaintance with parliamentary
law in general. But since the dictatorship of Mr. C — y, ' on a change
tout cela' (French again), and I am now almost as raw as our newest
recruits. Then, too, I had habits of application to business ; but,
my good friend, while I am running on (Alnaschar-like), I protest I
believe the thought entered no head but Mr. S  's (to whom, of
course, I am much obliged for his good opinion) ; for no suggestion
of the sort ever occurred to me until I read it under your hand.
" My days of business, of active employment, are over. My judg
ment, I believe, has not deserted me, and when it does, as old George
Mason said, I shall be the last person in the world to find it out :
ray principles I am sure have not ; and if, which God forbid, they
should, I shall be the first person to find it out. Till that shall hap
pen, I will be ' the warder on the lonely hill.'
" Why cannot all the honest men (not poor Burr's sort) unite in a
man for the presidency who possesses: 1. Integrity, 2. firmness, 3.
great political experience, 4. sound judgment and strong common
sense, 5. ardent love of country and of its institutions and their spirit,
6. unshaken political consistency in the worst of times, 7. manners (if
not courtly) correct. I could name such a man.
" Apropos to Burr. I have been reflecting this morning on the
fate of some of the raost active and influential (pardon the slang) of
them that contributed to effectuate the change in 1800-1. Burr
stands foremost ; Ned. Livingston ; W. C. N. ! though last, not least.
It is mournful to think on I might mention a good many more who
played an- under part in the drama, such as Duane, Merriwether,
Jones. &c.. &c."

156 LIFE O'F JOHN RANDOLPH.
In the appropriation bill for the ensuing year, there was a large
undefined appropriation for the Indian Department asked for by tbe
Secretary of War, and was understood to be intended to cover up a
deficiency of the past year. Mr. Eandolph, the 4th of January, 1822,
moved a re-commitraent of the bill.
" Unreasonable jealousy of the Executive Government," said he,
" often led to the opposite extreme — a blind confidence in the govern
ing power. From this jealousy s,nd confidence he felt himself free.
He believed that this House also was as free from unreasonable
jealousy as any reasonable body ought to be. In fact, jealousy in
public life was like that same ' green-eyed monster' in the domestic
circle, which poisoned the source of all social happiness. It was
extraordinary, and yet apparent, that the case had occurred in which
confidence had lost its true character, and taken another, which he
would not name in this House. It was remarkable, as well on the
other side of the Atlantic as this, that a general suspicion had gone
abroad, that the department which emphatically holds the purse-
strings of the nation, was more remiss than any other in guarding
against the expenditure of its subordinate agents. If it should be
generally and unanswerably understood, that the body whose duty
it was to guard the public treasure from wasteful expenditure, had
abandoned their trust to a blind confidence in the dispensers of pub
lic patronage, they must immediately and justly lose all the confi
dence of the community. He had heard yesterday, with astonish
ment, a proposition to surrender inquiry to a confidence in the
integrity and ability in the officer who had made the requisition.
When this House should be disposed to become a mere chamber in
which to register the edicts, not of "the President, but of the heads of
departments it would be unimportant whether the members of this
House professed to represent 35,000 freemen, or collectively the
single borougli of Sarum. This proceeding was to him unprece
dented. * * * * He would give to the Govemment his confidence
when it was necessary, and he would not give it to the Government,
nor to any man further than that, unless to his bosom friend. But
there was a wide difference between voting for an advance for the
service of the current year, and voting for the same sum to.cover a
deficiency of the past year, under cover of an advance for the present
year." «
The same day, January 4th, before making the above speech, he-
thus writes to Dr. Brockenbrough :
" A question will come on to-day respecting an appropriation,
ostensibly in advance (or ' on account,' as trading folks say) of the
military expenditures of the current year ; but really to cover a defi*-

LOG-BOOK AND LETTERS. 157
ciency (or excess of expenditure) for the last year. The sum is only
$100,000 ; yet, my word for it ! this honest gentleman (who had
kept him up half a night to win back a few dollars) will vote it with
out the least scruple, at the nod of an executive officer. In short,
the greater part of us view with equal eye
' The public million and tiie private groat.'
" The ' arguments' yesterday, when the question was pending,
were ' Having the fullest confidence in the head of the war depart
ment ;' ' can any gentleman believe or suppose that the Secretary of
War could ask an improper appropriation,' &c., &c., all to the same
tune ; and although Tracey, of New- York, and Trimble, of Kentucky,
distinctly opposed the imposition, that old sinner,  of ' Marland^
by sheer force of lungs, induced some right well-meaning people to
think the objections (which they did not understand, nor the answer
neither) satisfactorily repelled. Even L  s, with whom I dined,
agreed that the thing was wrong ; said he had told S. S. it ought to
be in a separate grant, expressive of its true character ; but that S.
said ' he did not like to trust it,' and so thrust it in the partial appro
priation bill for 1822, where he hoped, no doubt, it would pass unob
served. " By the way, I believe I wrote that C  -n had ' aceepted.'
He and L. are, I think, shot dead by their want of retenue More
Freneh, and I am not sure that it is good Freneh.
" On the day of your ' debauch,' I dined with Van Buren and the
whole New- York delegation in both Houses, with the V. P. at their
head. Although it no doubt had a meaning like ' the shake of the
head' in the ' Critic,' I did not exactly find it out, but I believe I was
not far off the true construction. Many here think that neither
0  n, nor C  s, nor C  y will be ' run' — that this is but a
ruse de guerre to weaken C  d and of course strengthen the East
ern and Northern interest.
" Since I came to the House, Baldwin, speaking of the present
candidate, said to me — " The people ought to put down (I trust they
will) every man who has put himself forward at this premature time.^
I left my letter open for what I might hear, and I have heard nothing
else." \ " Washington, Jan. 13, 1822. — My good friend — I had taken it
for granted that you were gone, Orpheus like, to fetch your wife from
the infernal regions, or at least through infernal ways, when I received,
this morning, your welcome letter of Friday (the llth). The truth
is, I am disappointed by the Enquirer, and so you may tell him. Al
though it is not very desirable to be studiously misrepresented and
caricatured to the rest of the States, yet I was fain to content rayself
with standing .(substantially at least, if not in form) on my own title.

158 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
with the good people of poor old Virginia (God help her !) through
the medium of the Enquirer. When any of the courtiers are to speak,
G  s takes his seat in his box, and makes the best report he can :
e. g. McD  's speech, which is greatly softened in point of arro
gance, and which is much improved by the total omission of the sui
cidal declaration towards its close, that the money wa,s wanting ' to
pay vouched accounts then lying on the Secretary of War's table.'
When one of the country party speak, the duty is devolved upon an
incapable deputy ; but mere incapacity will not account for such man
ifest and repeated perversions. Take the following as some among
the raost glaring in the last report of a speech which satisfied many
others much more than it did its author. (Here follow numerous cor
rections of the report alluded to,)
" The words for which I was called to order by S., are not those
stated in the report. Those words were subsequently used — I said
not one syllable about the soldiers ' dealing in perfumery,' What the
creature means I can't even divine. In short, it may be considered
as the greatest outrage of the sort ever committed,"
" Tuesday, Jan. 15, 1822. — I wrote you a letter the day before
yesterday, in a characiier that might have passed for Sir Anthony
Scrabblestone's. You no doubt remember that old acquaintance of
our reverend friend the holy Clerk of Copmanhurst, and are full as
well acquainted with his handwriting as that pious anchorite was
with his person. However, I have (in addition to the apology that
my implements are furnished by contract) the further justification of
mv Lord Arlington's high authority
Did you preserve the Baltimore paper that contained No. 18, of
'a Native Virginian?' Nos. 19 and 20 have since been sent rae.
They are well written, and unanswered, if not unanswerable. Had
they appeared in a paper of general circulation, and one that possess
ed any share of public confidence, they would, I think, have produced
some effect, if indeed the public be not dead to all sensation.
" There is a young man here by the name of Chiles, making re
ports of our proceedings for the ' Boston Daily Advertiser.' Mr,
Mills of the Senate (firom Massachusetts) gave me his report of the
loings of Friday, the 4th instant — with the help of such a report as
that, I could have given Mr, Eitchie what I said almost verbatim.
But the truth is, that after the occasion passes away, I can seldom re
call what I said until I ara put in mind, by what I did not say, or by
some catch-word ; at the same time, I have given Mr. Eitchie the
substance, and, where any particular word or incident occurred, the
very language that I used. I ara determined, hereafter, to wait for
Chilos's report from Boston, and with a slight alteration, when neces
sary, I will send it to the Enquirer. The N. I. does not condense as
he pretends. Qf all the speeches made on the subject, it was ths

LOG-BOOK AND LETTERS 159
longest and the most audible. In the report it is one of the shortest,
and yet stuffed with expletives not used by me, as well as perver
sions of meaning. There is no mistaking this, when continually oc
curring. " The discussion of the M. A. bill has done me no service."
'¦'•Jan. 18, 1822. — I'm afraid you think me such a tiresome ego
tist that you are fain to drop my correspondence. To say the truth,
I am vexed at being made to talk such nonsense, and bad English
into the bargain — ' proven' cum multis aliis ejusdem farinae, familiar
enough, indeed, to congressional ears, but which never escaped from
my lips.
" There is a very impudent letter in Walsh, which I half suspect
he wrote to himself — ' hungry mouths to stop, and dogs not above
eating dirty pudding' — must sound peculiarly offensive in his ears,
since he could not even get the run of the kitchen when he was here
in 1816-17. At that time he had the effrontery to tell me to my
face, that he had no doubt I was far more eloquent than Patrick
Henry. The Intelligencer puts words into my mouth that I never
uttered, and these furnish the basis of Mr. W.'s comments, with those
great critics and annotators — for ' debate,' read '' detail ' (which I
said neither health nor inclination allowed me to enter into), and
what becomes of the comment ? Of one thing I am sure, that the
House is not yet becoming tired of me ; and I shall take especial
care that it do not."
'¦'Jan. 19. — My avocations are such, that my time, like ray
money, runs away in driblets, without producing an ' effeck} I have
more than once thought of using my pen in some other way besides
scribbling to you ; but, some how or other, I can find none so pleasant,
and time is always wanting. I have read nothing, but have been
very much in company. Like the long waists of our mothers, I really
believe I am growing, if not generally, at least somewhat, in fashion.
But I hope I am not so old a fool as to presume upon this ; for of all
fools, an old one is the least tolerable.
" Like most parvenus, the man you mention is a sorry black
guard, in dress, raanners, figure (a complete paddy), countenance,
and principle. I could have given him ' such a sackfull of sair
bones,' that hit could have borne the marks to his grave. But I pur
posely abstained from the slightest notice of him. It is not the least
of our success against temptation, to suppress the overwhelming re
tort, and, just as it rises to the tongue, to give a good gulp and swal
low it."
" Feb. 1. — You will see a correction of Gales's in yesterday's Intel
ligencer. He has restored the words that I used, almost verbatim.
They were these : ' Transubstantiation, I was going to say ; but I
would not, from respect to a numerous and most respectable class of

160 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
persons ; but would say, as any in priestcraft, kingcraft, or another
craft which (as great as is the Diana of the Ephesians !) I would not
name.' Yet I have received 'an indignant remonstrance from a
Eoman Catholic of Washington City, ' on ray invective against that
sect,' of which you may see some notice in to-morrow's Moniteur.
Administration is sunk into much contempt with our House, and
the other too. They hail from ' four corners.' Instead of Dana's
' triangular war,' we have a quadrangular one. They must dissolve
in their own imbecility. By the way, I want my ' native Virginian,'
when you are done with him.
" I trust the Virginian Governraent will not be weak enough to
disraiss the " claim " of Kentucky. I suspect it was got up to defray
C  s' electioneering campaign for the winter."
" Feb. 7. — I am at last gratified by a letter from you. To say
the truth, I had rather, rauch rather, that the thing had not ap
peared ; but as to ' being affronted ' at it, that was out of the ques
tion. I Indeed, if I do not egregiously deceive myself, a gyeat change
has been wrought in ray character. I ara become quiet and sedate —
torpid, if you will — but much less disposed to take or give offence
than I once was. Thi^ remark is made, not in reference to the little
incident above alluded to, but in that vein of egotism to which I am
too prone.
" You do right in endeavoring to reconcile L. and T. ; but in the
course of my observation, I cannot recall a single instance of cordi
ality between reconciled friends. Poor human nature ! The view
which I am compelled to take of it every day, augments my pity for
it. We dare not trust ourselves with the truth. It is too terrible.
Hence the whole world is in masquerade. ' Words were invented,'
said Talleyrand, ' to conceal our thoughts.' Hence, a conventional
language, in which it is understood that things are never to be
called by their right names, and which at last ceases to answer its
original design, except with the vulgar great and small.
" I must be a very uncommon personage to ' astonish all the
world' with what I do not do. Since I am not able to astonish them
with my exploits, it is very good in them to be negatively charged on
my account. I heartily wish that I had never given them any other
cause of wonder,
" Poor T, T  r ! I know his disease. It has been killing me
inch-meal, a long, long while. Give him my best regards. It is a
dreadful thing to find out, as he has done, too late, what stuff the
world is made of ; to have an illusion dispelled that made life agree
able to us. Did you ever read ' Cobbett's Sermons,' or his ' Cottage
Economy ?' If not, pray do. They are written with great originality
and power, and I heartily wish they were in the hands of all who
can read.

THE APPORTIONMENT BILL. 161
" There has been a great deal of stuff uttered in our House for*
the last two or three days. It has degenerated into a mere bear
garden ; and, really, when I see strangers on the platform, I feel
asharaed of belonging to the body. I have been a good deal pressed
to join the squabble ; for it don't deserve the name of debate ; but I
have refrained, if the expression can be applied, where, instead of
desire, one feels only disgust I have not yet seen the Chief Justice,
although we have exchanged visits. I am glad *.o hear that you in
tend to 'write again soon.' If, you knew the feeling I have when a
letter from you is brought in, you would shower them down like snow.
My health and spirits are incurably bad. If I can raise the money,
I mean to dissipate my chagrin and ennui in some foreign land. In
cessant change of place, and absence of all occupation, seem indis
pensable to my tolerable existence. I am become almost reconcfiled
to pain ; but there is a sensation of another sort that is worse than
death. Familiar as I am to it, it serves but to increase its misery.
At this moment, I am obliged to relinquish my pen from the com
bined effects of bodily disease and raental distress. Adieu.
" J, E. OP E."

CHAPTEE XVIII.
THE APPORTIONMENT BILL.
¦' Government, to be safe and to be free, must consist of Representatives ha-ving a
common interest and a common feeling with the represented." — John Ran
dolph.
The great business of the session was the apportionment of repre
sentatives among the States, according to the new census. It seeras
to have been the policy of Congress, as the population increased, to
increase the ratio of representation from decade to decade, so as to
keep down the nurabers of the House of Eepresentatives. This sub
ject was one of exciting interest to all parties. None felt raore deeply
than Mr, Eandolph, not only the importance of the principles involved
but the serious infiuence the new apportionment was likely to have
on the relative weight and standing of the old Commonwealth which
he had been so proud to represent for so raany years, as the Empire
State. " Yesterday I rose, (says he, the 7th of February, the day tho
question was taken) at 3, and to-day at 2, A. M. I cannot sleep.

162 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Two bottles of champagne, or a dozen of gas, could not have excited
me like this apportionment bill,"
A variety of propositions werp made to fix the ratio, ranging from
35,000 to 75,000, The committee reported 40,000, Mr Tucker, of
Virginia, proposed 38,000. By the ratio of the coininittee, Virginia
would lose one member, and fall below New-York and Pennsylvania.
By the ratio of Mr, Tucker she would retain her present delegation in
Congress, Mr, Eandolph was in favor of the latter proposition. But
his arguments reach far beyond the particular interest his own State
had in the question. They are profound and statesmanlike — are wor
thy of our most serious consideration — and the principle they evolve
should be made a cardinal doctine in the creed of those who hold that
the responsibility of the representative — the independence and sover
eignty of the States, and the cautious action of the Federal Govern
ment on the subjects strictly limited to it, are the only sound rules
for interpreting the Constitution, The danger is in having too small
a representation. No country was ever ruined by the expense of its
legislation ; better pay an army of legislators than an array of soldiers.
"I cannot enter into the reasoning," said Mr, Eandolph, "which
goes to show that two hundred members, or this ratio of 42,000, or
what not, is to serve some great political purpose, whilst one member
more or less, or 1000 in the ratio, more or less, would produce a ca
lamitous effect. To such prescience which could discover such irapor
tant eff'ects from such causes he had no claim ; but this he would say,
it was made an objection to the Constitution by some of the greatest
men this country ever produced, and perhaps as great as it ever would
produce. It was, in itself, a vital objection to George Mason's putting
his hand to the Constitution, that the representation in Congress was
limited not to exceed one member for every 30,000 souls, whilst on
the other hand, a most unbounded discussion was given over the in
crease of the ratio. It was an objection to the Constitution, ou the
part of some of the wisest men this country ever produced. It was an
objection on the part of Patrick Henry, whose doubts, I need not ask
you, Mr Speaker, to recur to. I fear you have been too familiar
with them in the shape of verified predictions, whose doubts experi
ence has proved to be prophetic. On a question of this sort, shall we
be told of the expense of compensating a few additional members of
this body ? He knew we had, in a civil point of view, perhaps the
most expensive governraent under the sun. We had, taking one gen
tleman's declaration, an army of legislators. There was a time, and he
wished he might live to see it again, when the legislators of the country

THE APPORTIONMENT BILL. 163
outnumbered the rank and file of the army, and the officers to boot.
I wish I may see it again. Did any man ever hear of a country ru
ined by the expense of its legislation ? Yes, as the sheep are ruined
by so rauch as is required for the nourishment of the dogs. As to
the civil list, to pay a host of legislators, is it this pay that has run
up the national debt? Is it their pay that produces defalcations of
the revenue? Did mortal raan ever hear of a country that was ru
ined by the expense of its civil list, and more especially by the legis
lative branch of it ? We must take a number that is convenient for
business, and at the same time sufficiently great to represent the in
terests of this great empire. This empire, he was obliged to say,
for the term republic had gone out of fashion. He would warn, not
this House, for they stood in no need cf it, but the good, easy, sus
ceptible people of this country, against the empiricism in politics,
against the delusion that because a government is representative,
equally representative, if you will, it must therefore be free. Govern
raent, to be safe and to be free, raust consist of representatives having
a comraon interest and common feeling with the represented.
When I hear of settlements at the Council Bluffs, and of bills for
taking possession of the raouth of the Columbia Eiver, I turn^ not a
deaf ear, but an ear of a different sort to the sad vaticination of
what is to happen in the length of tirae : believing, as I do, that
no governraent extending from the Atlantic to the Pacific can be fit
to govern me, or those whom I represent. There is death in the pot,
compound it how you will. No such government can exist, because it
mu^ want the common feeling and common interest with the govern
ed, which is indispensable to its existence. * * * * The first House
of Eepresentatives consisted of but sixty-five members. Mr. Ean
dolph said he well remembered that House. He saw it often, and
that very fact was, he said, to him a serious objection to so smah a
representation on this floor. The truth is, said he, we carae out of
the old Constitution in a chrysalis state, under unhappy auspices.
The members of the body that framed the Constitution were second
to none in respectability. -But they had been so long without power,
they had so long seen the evils of a government without power, that
it begot in them a general disposition to have king Stork substituted
for king Log. They organized a Congress to consist of a snaall num
ber of members, and what was the consequence ? Every one in the
slightest degree conversant with the subject must know, that on the
first step in any government depends, in a great degree, the charac
ter and complexion of that governraent. What, I repeat, was the
consequence of the then limited number of the representative body ?
Many, very many, indeed all that could be called fundamental laws,
were passed by a majority, which, in the aggregate, hardly exceeded in
number the committee which was the other day appointed to bring in

164 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
the bill now on your table ; and thereby, said he, hangs (not a tale,
but) very serious ones, which it is improper to open here and now.
Among the other blessings which we have received from past legisla
tion, we should not have been sitting at this place if there had been
a different representation. Those who administered the government
were in a hurry to go into the business of legislation before they
were ready — and here I must advert to what had been said with re
gard to the redundance of debate. For ray part, said he, I wish ws
could have done nothing but talk, unless, indeed, we had gone to
sleep for many years past ; and coinciding in the sentiment which:
had fallen from the gentlemen from New-York, give me flfty speech.es.i
I care not how dull or how stupid, rather than one law on thei
statute book ; and if I could once see a Congress meet and adjourn
without passing any act whatever, I should- hail it as one of the most
acceptable omens. * * * * The case of a State wisely governed by
its legislature, that of Connecticut, for example," he argued, " would
be preposterously applied to this government, representing as it does
more than a million of square miles, and raore than twenty millions
of people, for such ere long would be the araount of our population.
To say that 200 shall be the amount of our representation, and then
to proportion that number among the States, would be putting the
cart before the horse, or making a suit of clothes for a man and then
taking his measure. The number of representatives ought to be suf
ficient to enable the constituent to maintain with the representative
that relation without which representative government was as great a
cheat as transubstantiation — he was going to say — ^but would jiot,
from respect to a numerous and most respectable class of persons,
but he would say, as any priest-craft, king-craft, or another craft,
which (as great is the Diana of the Ephesians !) he would not name.
When 1 hear it proposed elsewhere to limit the nurabers of the re
presentatives of the people on this fioor, I feel disposed to return
the answer of Agesilaus when the Spartans were asked for their
arms — ' come and take them !' — It appeared to be the opinion of som'e
gentlemen, who seemed to think that He who made the world should
have consulted them about it, that our population would go on in
creasing, till it exceeded the limits of the theory of our representative
government. He remeraberered a case in which it had been seriously
proposed, and by a learned gentleman too, that inasmuch as one of
his brethren was increasing his property in a certain ratio, in the
course of time it would amount, by progressive increase, to the value
of the whole world, and this man would thus becorae master of
the world. These calculations would serve as charades, conun
drums, and such matters, calculated to amuse the respectable
class (much interested in such matters) of old maids ,and old bache
lors, of which Mr. E. said he was a most unfortunate memher. To
this objection, that the number of the House would soon become

THE APPORTIONMENT BILL. 165
too great, to this bugbear it was sufficient to reply, that when the
case occurred it would be time to provide for it. "We will not take
the physic before we are sick, remerabering the old Italian epitaph,
' I was well, I would be better, I took physic, and here I am.' * * * *
He was in favor of making the House as numerous as the Consti
tution would permit, always keeping within such a number as would
not be inconvenient to the House for the transaction of business.
For, in that respect, the legislature of a little Greek or Swiss repub
lic might be as numerous as that of the Kingdom of Great Britain.
The only limit was, the capacity to do business in one chamber ; and
it was desirable to have as great a number {is would keep on this side
of a raob.
" One of the raost profound female writers of the present age —
and, perhaps, he might amend by striking out the word female — had
pointed out the superiority of the legislative body of England over
that of France, from the circumstance that, of the British Parlia
ment, no man is permitted to read a speech, but is obliged to pro
nounce it extempore ; while in the French Legislative Assembly, the
rage for making speeches was excited by the usage, that any member
who could manufacture one, or get some one else to do it for hira,
ascended the tribune, and delivered, and afterwards published it ;
and hence their notion, that an assembly of more than one hundred,
if composed of Newtons, might be called a mob. The practice in
England naturally forced out the abilities of the house. The speaker
was obliged to draw on his own intellectual resources, and upon those
talents with which heaven had endowed him. Talents descend from
heaven ; they are the gift of God ; no patent of nobility can confer
them ; and he who had the right, beyond a monarch's power to grant,
did conduct the public affairs of the country. By the contrary prac
tice, a^^erding to Madame De Stael, the French nation was cheated,
and men passed for more than they were worth. * * * * A gentle
man from Georgia had feared a large ratio would introduce an oli
garchy. But it would be recollected that our government, in its
head, was monarchical. It was useless to quarrel about words, for
such is the fact ; and, as some writers say, not the best forra of rao-
narchy, the elective ; but on this he would express no opinion. There
was another body that was oligarchical — the Senate, and an oligar
chy of the worst, for the representatives of the State sovereignties
were not revocable by them. What would become of the House of
Eepresentatives if the whole rays of Executive influence were to be
concentrated upon it ? It would be consumed, or, like a diamond
under a lens, would evaporate. Nevertheless, there were dull speeches
delivered in the Houses of Parliament, as well as here. Witness
those of Mr. Fuller, or of Mr. Drake. This was one of those cases
in which the maxim de mortuis nil nisi bonum did not hold. He
complained of the growth of the contingent expenses of the House,

166 LIFE OP JOHN RANDOLPH.
which had been incurred for the accommodation of the members, in a
profusion of stationery, easy arm-chairs, and a mass of printed docu
ments that nobody reads ! These accommodations, like those at
Banks, did no good to those who made use of them. He believed
that an increased ratio would be one of the means of getting rid of
these incumbrances."
These observations are worthy of most serious consideration. Is
the opinion of Mr Eandolph, an enlargement of the numbers of the
House of Eepresentatives would, in the end, produce an economy of
expenditure for their own accommodation, would reduce the chances
of executive influence, give a more immediate and responsible repre
sentation to the people, enlarge the field of political interest in the
country, by bringing the representative and the represented more
closely together, would lessen the propensity, and take away the faci
lities for sectional combinations and partial and unconstitutional
legislation, more effectually call forth the real talent and patriotism
of the House, and add to the weight and respectability of the States,
which are the only opposing forces and counterweights to the strong
centripetal tendencies of the Federal Government. These are results
greatly to be desired. The wisest men foresaw the dangers of too
small a representation. It was a serious objection to the Constitu
tion. We have felt the evil consequences in more ways than one.
Let the evil be remedied : reduce the army ; reduce the navy ; they
have almost become useless in our vastly-ex:tended territory and com
manding position. Build no more fortifications ; build no more ships
but steam-ships, and make them useful as mail-carriers and explorers
of unknown regions. Abolish the land systera (which is expensive),
and sell out to the States the public lands within their respective
borders. Collect no raore revenue than is needed for an economical
administration of the government. Increase the representatives of
the people in Congress ; let thera avoid all doubtful questions ; con
fine themselves to the few subjects of a common interest, specifically
delegated, and proceed on the maxira, that a " wise and masterly in
activity " in the science of legislation, as well as in the practice of the
healing art, is the truest evidence of wisdora and prudence. When
these things are done, then the great danger so much apprehended
by our fathers need no longer to be the cause of uneasiness to their
children, and we raay go on adding State after State until our Fede
rative Union shall overspread the whole continent. The truth is.

THE APPORTIONMENT BILL. 167
tho addition of States from different sections of widely-divo/sified and
opposing interests has done more than any thing else to bring back
the action of the government to its legitimate sphere, by diminishing
the chances and the desire of sectional combinations.
Mr. Eandolph's efforts were all in vain. The ratio was fixed at
40,000 On the 6th of February, by means of the previous question,
the bill was carried by a vote of nearly two to one, and Virginia,
henceforth, had to take her rank, in numerical strength at least, as
a second or third-rate State. Mr. Eandolph spoke most feelingly on
the occasion.
" I confess,'' said he, " that I have (and I am not ashamed to own
it) an hereditary attachment to the State that gave me birth. I shall
act upon it as long as I act upon this floor, or any where else. I
shall feel it when I am no longer capable of acting any where. But
I beg gentlemen to bear in mind, if we feel the throes and agonies
which they impute to us at the sight of our departing power, there is
something in fallen greatness, though it be in the person of a despot —
something to enlist the passions and feelings of men, even against
their reason. Bonaparte himself believed he had those who sympa
thized with him. But if such be our condition — if we are really so
extremely sensitive on this subject — ^do not gentlemen recollect the
application of- another received maxira in regard to sudden, I will
not say upstart, elevation, that some who are once set on horseback,
know not, nor care not, which way they ride ? I am a man of
peace. With Bishop Hall, I take no shame to myself for making
overtures of pacification, when I have unwittingly offended. But,
sir, I cannot permit, whatever liberties may be taken with me, I can
not permit any that may be taken with the State of Virginia to pass
unnoticed on this floor. I hope the notice which I shall always take
of them will be such as not only becomes a member of this House,
but the dignity of that ancient State."
While the star of Virginia was in the ascendant, and her do
minion was acknowledged by all, her course was one of self-sacrifice.
A royal domain she surrendered as a peace-offering to the Confede
ration ; she exhausted her own resources to fill the common treasury ;
ever careful of the rights of others, she neglected her own, and stu
died more the common welfare than her private interest. No statute
can rise up and condemn her as mean or selfish, unjust or wasteful.
Let those who are now in the ascendant go and do likewise ;
above all, let them take care that the maxim given hj Mr. Eandolph
as a warning, prove not prophetic — " that some who" (by sudden ele-

168 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
vation) " are once set on horseback, know not, nor care not, which
way they ride."
Next day after the passage of the bill, Mr. Eandolph thus writes
to his friend Brockenbrough. Washington, Thursday, 4 o'clock p. M., Feb. 7, 1822.
Frora Dudley's letter, written the day after the event, I had an
ticipated the cause of ray not having heard frora you within the
week. My good friend, " neither can I write," but for a different
reason. I am now down, abraded, by long-continued stretch of mind
and feeling. We may now cry out " Ichabod," for our glory is de
parted. I made last night my final effort to retrieve our fortunes,
and the Virginia delegation (to do them justice, sensible when too
late of their error) did what they could to second me. I do them
this justice with pleasure, if there was one I did not note the excep
tion. Had they supported rae from the first, we could have carried
^8,000 or 38,500. S  e of W  e got alarmed at my earnest
deprecation of the conduct of the majority, of which he was one,
and came to me repeatedly, and tried to retrace his steps. So did
some others (i. e. "try back"), but the mischief had gone too far to
be remedied. Our fathers have eaten grapes, and my teeth, at least,
are set on edge. I ara sensible that I have spoken too much, and
perhaps my friends at a distance may think rae raore faulty in this
respect than they would do, had they been on the spot — for since my
first (also unpublished) opposition to the "Yazoo " bill, I have never
spoken with such effect upon the House, as on Saturday last : acd
I am certain by their profound attention last night, that I lost no
thing even with them that divided against rae, at least the far greater
part of them. If in this I shall find by the representation of others
that ray self-love has deceived rae, I will be raore than ever on my
guard against that desperately wicked and most deceitful of all
things, my own heart. I pray you, therefore, not to have the fear of
the Archbishop of Grenada before your eyes, but tell me truly, if I
am mistaken. This you can readily learn through Mr. Eitchie, to
whom please show this letter, or through some of our asserably men,
or othei's, who have correspondents here. I do not want to know
the source wlience your information comes ; nor yet am I setting a
clap-trap, vain as I ara (for vanity I know is iraputed to me by my
enemies, and I fear (as has been said) that they come nearer the
truth of one's character'than our friends do), and sweet as applause
is, (Dr. South says of the seekers of praise, that they search for
what " flashes for a moment in the face like lightning, and perhaps
says he, it hurts the man.") I flsh for no opinion on the character
of my endeavors to render public service, except as regards their
too frequent repetition ; it is rather to obtain the raeans of hereafter
avoiding censure that this request is raade.

DEPARTURE FOR EUROPE. 169

CHAPTEE XIX.
PINCKNEY, MAESHALL, TAZEWELL — DEPARTURE FOR EUROPE.
Monday, the 25th of February, Mr. Eandolph prematurely an
nounced the death of Williara Pinckney, a Senator from Maryland.
and a distinguished jurist and orator. He had obtained the infor
mation from one of the Judges of the Supreme Court, who came in
while the House was in session, and gave the information to Mr. Ean
dolph as coming from a gentleman of the bar, who told him he had
seen the corpse, Mr. Eandolph immediately rose and pronounced
the following eulogy, which, considering that it was sudden and ex
temporaneous, is unsurpassed in eloquence :
He arose to announce to the House the death of a man who filled
the first place, in public estimation, in the first profession in that es
timation, in this or any other country : —
" We have been talking," says he, " of General Jackson, and a
greater man than he is not here, but gone for ever ! I allude, sir, to
the boast of Maryland and the pride of the United States — the pride
of us all, and particularly the pride and ornament of that profession
of which you, Mr. Speaker (Stephenson), are a member, and an emi
nent one. He was a man with whom I lived when a member of this
House, and a new one too ; and ever since he left it for the other — 1
spsak it with pride — in habits not merely negatively friendly, but of
kindliness and cordiality. The last time I saw him was on Saturday, the
last Saturday but one, in the pride of life and full possession and vigor
of all his faculties, in that lobby. He is now gone to his account (for
as the tree falls so it must lie), where we must all go— where I must
soon go, and by the same road, too — the course of nature ; and where
all of us, put off the evil day as long as we may, must also soon go
For what is the past but a span ; and which of us can look forward to
as many years as we have lived ? The last act of intercourse between
us was an act, the recollection of which I would not be without for
all the offices that all the raen of the United States have filled or ever
shall fill. He had, indeed, his faults, his foibles ; I should rather say
sins. Who is without them? Let such, such only, cast the first
stone. And these foibles, if you will, which every body could see,
because every body is clear-sighted with regard to the faults and foi
bles of others, he, I have no doubt, would have been the first to ac
knowledge, on a proper representation of them. Every thing now is

170 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
hidden from us — not, God forbid, that utter darkness rests upon the
grave, which, hideous as it is, is lighted, cheered, and warmed with
light from heaven ; not the impious fire fabled to be stolen from
heaven by the heathen, but by the Spirit of the living God, whom we
all profess to worship, and whom I hope we shall spend the remainder
of the day in worshipping ; not with mouth honor, but in our hearts,
in spirit and in truth ; that it may not be said of us also, ' This people
draweth nigh unto me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.'
Yes, it is just so ; he is gone. I will not say that our loss is irrepar
able, because such a man as has existed may exist again. There has
been a Homer, there has been a Shakspeare, there has been a Mil
ton, there has been a Newton. There may be another Pinckney, but
there is none new. And it was to announce this event that I have
risen. I am almost inclined to believe in presentiments. I have
been all along, as well assured of the fatal termination of that disease
with which he was afflicted as I am now ; and I have dragged ray
weary lirabs before sunrise, to the door of his sick charaber (for I
would not intrude on the sacred grief of the family), almost every
morning since his illness. From the first, I had almost no hope."
In these early and pious visitations to the sick chamber of virtue
and genius, he was frequently accompanied by the Chief Justice.
What a beautiful and touching tribute to the memory of Pinckney,
that the greatest orator and statesman, and the greatest jurist of his
age, should watch with so much interest and tenderness, the last ex
piring breath of him who in life had rivalled the one in eloquence and
the other in profound learning.
Though premature, the event of Mr. Pinckney's death soon fol
lowed the announcement
" Mr. Pinckney (says Eandolph to a friend) breathed his last
about 1? o'clock (midnight). The void cannot be filled. I have not
slept, on an average, two hours, for the last six days. I have been
at his lodgings, more than half a mile west of mine, every day, by
sunrise — often before — and this morning before daybreak. I heard
frora him last night at ten, and sat up (which I have not done before
for six weeks) until the very hour that he expired. He died literally
in harness. To his exertions in the Dudley cause, and his hard train
ing to meet Tazewell in the cochineal case, as 'tis called, may be fairly
ascribed his death. The void will never be filled that he has left.
Tazewell is second to no man that ever breathed ; but he has taken
almost as much pains to hide his light under a bushel as P. did to
set his on a hill. He and the Great Lord Chief are in tha,t par-nobile ;
but Tazewell, in point of reputation, is far beyond both Pinckney and
;>Iarshall."

DEPARTURE FOR EUROPE. 171
Saturday, March 9th, Mr. Eandolph made a speech of two hours,
against the Bankrupt bill. Finding by a vote, to strike out the enact
ing clauses, that the bill would pass by a large majority, and that
being the only remaining subject of iraportance -before the House, he
obtained leave of absence on Monday, the llth, and set out for New-
York, to embark on board the packet ship Amity, for Liverpool.
From " on board the steamboat Nautilus, under weigh to the
Amity, Saturday, March 16, 1822," he addressed a letter to his con
stituents : —
" My friends, for such indeed you have proved yourselves to be,
through good and through evil report, I throw myself on your indul
gence, to which I have never yet appealed in vain. Tt is now just
five years since the state of my health reluctantly compelled me to
resist your solicitations (backed by my own wishes) to offer my ser
vices to your suffrages. The recurrence of a similar calamity obliges
.jie to retire, for a while, from the field of duty.
" Should the mild climate of France and the change of air restore
my health, you will again find me a candidate for your independent
suffrages at the next election (1823).
" I have an especial desire to be in that Congress, which will de
cide (probably by indirection) the character of the executive gov
ernment of the Confederation for, at least, four years — perhaps for
ever ; since now, for the first time since the institution of this gov
ernment, we have presented to the people the army candidate for the
presidency, in the person of him who, judging from present appear
ance, will receive the support of the Bank of the United States also.
This is an union of the purse aud sword, with a vengeance — one
which even the sagacity of Patrick Henry never anticipated, in this
shape at least.. Let the people look to it, or they are lost for ever.
They will fall into that gulf, which, under the artificial, military, and
paper systems of Europe, divides Dives from Lazarus, and grows
daily and hourly broader, deeper, and more appalling. To this state
of things we are rapidly approaching, under an administration, the
head of which sits an incubus upon the State, while the lieutenants
of this new Mayor of the palace are already contending for the suc
cession ; and their retainers and adherents are with difficulty kept
from coming to blows, even on the floor of Congress. We are arrived
at that pitch of degeneracy when the raere lust of power, the reten
tion of place and patronage, can prevail, not only over every consid
eration of public duty, but stifle the suggestions of personal honor,
which even the rainisters of the decayed governments of Europe
have not yet learned entirely to disregard."

172 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
From the same steamboat, Nautilus, he addressed the following
note to Dr. Brockenbrough.
" As I stepped into the Nautilus, a large packet from Washington,
among which was yours inclosing ' Uncle Nat's' letter, was put into
my hands.
" The ' Native of Virginia' is indiscreet in covering too much
ground. He ought to have darned and ' patched old Tom's Mantle,
and fought behind it as a Telemonian shield.
" Add to my P. S. in the address to my constituents, that letters,
via New-York, to the care of the P. Master, will reach me. My ad
dress is, care of John & Wra. Gilliatt, London, until further notice.
I am nearing the Amity. Farewell ! farewell !"

CHAPTEE XX.
THE VOYAGE.
A "TEK the Amity had gotten fairly under way, and the passengers
somewhat acquainted with each other, they sought, by various amuse
ments, to relieve the tedium of their voyage. Whist was a favorite
game on board ; and here Mr. Eandolph soon proved his superiority
as a player. It became a contest each night, who should have him as
a partner, and finally they took turns.
I observed, one morning, says Mr. Jacob Harvey, of New-York,
to whom we are indebted for the incidents of this voyage, that Mr.
Eandolph was examining a very large box of books, containing enough
to keep him busy reading during a voyage round the world. I asked
him why he had brought so many with hira ? "I want to have then?
bound in England, sir," replied he. "Bound in England!" ex
claimed I, laughing, "why did you not send them to New- York or
Boston, where you can get them done cheaper ?"
" What, sir," replied he sharply, " patronize some of our Yankee
taskmasters ; those patriotic gentry, who have caused such a heavy
duty to be imposed upon foreign books? Never, sir, never; I will
neither wear what tbey make, nor eat what they raise, so long as my

THE VOYAGE. I73
tobacco crop will enable me to get supplies from old England ; and
I shall employ John Bull to bind ray books, until the tirae arrives
when they can be properly done South of Mason and Di-xon's line .'"
He was kind enough to offer me the use of them, saying : " Take my
advice, and don't read any of the novels ; and when you get home, sir,
tell your father that I recommended abstinence from novel reading
and whisky punch. Depend upon it, sir, they are both equally in
jurious to the brain !"
His favorite author was Milton, and he frequently gave us read
ings from " Paradise Lost," stopping occasionally to point out the
beauties of the poem. Young, Thomson, Johnson, and Southey, did
not please his taste ; they were, he said, " too artificial." But his
classification of modern poems was very original.
" Sir, I place first on this list, Tom Crib's Memorial to Congress, for
its great wit and satire ; next, the Two Penny Post Boy, for similar
excellencies ; and third, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, for every variety
of sentiment, well expressed. But, sir (no offence to Ireland), I can't
go Moore's songs ; they are too sentimental by half ; all ideal and
above nature."
Turning over his books one day, I was surprised to find a copy of
" Fanny," Mr. Halleck's very clever satirical poem, which had been
recently published. " I am glad,'? said I, " that you do not proscribe
Yankee poetry as well as Yankee codfish."
" 0 no, sir," replied he, "I always admire talent, no matter where
it comes from ; and I consider this little work as the best specimen
of American poetry that we have yet seen. I am proud of it, sir ;
and I mean to take it to London with me, and to present jt to that
lady whose talents and conversation I shall raost admire."
I may mention here,'although somewhat out of place, that when we
met in London in June following, I suddenly recollected the circum
stance, and said to him : " By the way, Mr. Eandolph, to whom did
you present ' Fanny?'"
" To your countrywoman. Miss Edgeworth, sir : she has no com
petitor iu my estimation. She fairly won the book, sir."
He proposed, one fine morning, to read Fanny to me aloud, and
on deck, where we were enjoying a fine breeze and noonday sun. It
was the raost arausing " reading" I ever listened to. The notes were
much longer than the poem ; for, whenever he came to a well-known

174 LIFE OF .lOHN RANDOLPH.
name, up went his spectacles and down went the book, and he branch
ed off into some anecdote of the person or of his family. Thus we
" progressed" slowly from page to page, and it actually consumed
three mornings before we reached —
" And music ceases when it rains
In Scudder's balcony."
I was one morning looking over his books foj: my own amusement,
and observed that several of the prettiest editions were marked
" This for Miss  "
" How is this ?" said I ; " some fair lady seems to have enchained
you." " Ah,'" replied he, " if you only knew her, the sweetest girl in the
' Ancient Dominion,' and a particular favorite of mine, sir ; I shall
have all these books beautifully bound in London, sir, fit to grace
her centre-table on my return."
I took up one of them, a volume of old plays, and after reading
a few pages, exclaimed : " Surely you have not read these plays
lately, Mr. Eandolph, or you would not present this book to Miss
 ; it is too lascivious for her eyes.''
He immediately ran his eye over the page ; then took the book
out of my hands, and immediately indorsed on the back " not fit for
Bet." Then, turning to me, he said with warmth :
" You have done me an infinite service, sir. I would not for
worlds do aught to sully the purity of that girl's mind. I had for
gotten those plays, sir, or they would not have found a place in my
box. I abominate as much as you do, sir, that vile style of writing
which is intended to lessen our abhorrence of vice, and throw ridi
cule on virtuous conduct. You have given me the hint, sir. Come,
assist me in looking over all these books, lest some other black sheep
may have found its way into the flock.''
We accordingly went through the whole box, but found no other
volume deserving of condemnation, much to Eandolph's satisfaction.
He then presented me with several ^)ooks, as keepsakes; and he
wanted to add several more, but I had to decline positively. His
generosity knew no bounds ; and had I been avaricious of mentnl
food, I might have becorae possessed of half his travelling library.
On the 5th of April, we landed about noon. The wind had

THE VOYAGE. I75
changed since Eandolph predicted that we would strike ' Sligo Head,'
and we first saw the high mountains of Donegal. The atmosphere
was beautifully clear, and we ran along the coast near enough to see
the houses, &c. Towards night Eandolph said to me :
- Well, sir, I now believe the anecdote related by Arthur Young.
In his notes on Ireland he Says, that one day a farmer took his son,
a young boy, some distance from horae, in the county Meath. They
came to a tree ; the boy was astonished, stopped, and asked, ' Father,
what is that?' never having seen one before. Here have we been
sailing along the Irish coast for a whole day, and not a single tree
have I yet seen !"
It was too true. Barren are the mountains of Donegal, no tre.^
are to be seen ; and it is no wonder that an American sLjuld be
struck with astonishment, just arriving from his own well-wooded
shores. The moon was shining brightly when we came up with the island
of " Eathlin,'' or " Eaghery ;" but the tide ran so strongly against us
we passed it very slowly, notwithstanding we had a stiff breeze in our
favor. As Mr. Eandolph gazed upon its rugged shore, he said :
" That island I have wished much to see, sir. I suppose that
you are aware that its inhabitants are a most peculiar race. They
look down with conterapt upon the ' Continent,' as they call Ireland
(only three railes distant) ; and the greatest curse known to them is,
' May Ireland be your latter end.' They have their own laws and
usages ; intermarrying among themselves ; pay great deference to
their landlord and priest ; smuggle a little for an honest livelihood ;
and the severest punishment practised among them is, banishment to
Ireland .'"
Next day we ran down the Channel, passing and meeting hun
dreds of vessels, frora the stately Indiaman to the small fishing-
smack. The American vessels were easily discovered from the Brit
ish, by their white canvas, bright sides, and sharp bows. It was a
very excfting scene, and Eandolph was in fine spirits. The sight of
Old England brought back the " olden time " to his raeraory, and he
shed tears of delight.
"Thank God," exclaimed he, "that I have lived to behold the
land of Shakspeare, of Milton, of my forefathers ! May her greatness
increase through all time !"

176 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
It was past eleven o'clock at night when we reached the dook, and
we remained on board till next morning. Before parting, Eandolph
said to me, " I do not wish you to tell any one that I am here. I do
not covet any attentions, at present, sir. I have corae to England
to see, and not to be seen ; to hear, and ivot to be lieard. I don't
want to be made a lion of, sir You understand rae. I have formed
a friendship for you, which I hope will be continued, sir ; and when
you come to London, you must instantly inform me of your arrival ;
tliei-e is my address, sir. God bless you ; and remember you tell
your father not to give you whisky punch or novels."
London, May 27th, 1822. Monday.
My Deau Bet : On Saturday I had the pleasure to receive your
letter of the 10th of last month; and a great one it was ; for, altho'
I took somewhat of a French leave of you, I do assure you, my dear,
that " my thoughts, too, were with you on the ocean." Among my
treasures I brought a packet, containing all the letters I have ever
received from you ; and the reading over these, and talking of you to
a young Irish gentleman, whose acquaintance I happened to make
on board the stearaboat, was the chief solace of my voyage. It was a
short one, although a part of it was somewhat boisterous, and the
press of sail carried by our ships (the packets more especially), when
those of other nations are under reefed and double-reefed topsails,
exposes them to greater danger, while it shortens their voyage ; and
yet, such is the skill of our seamen, that insurance is no higher upon
our bottoms than upon European ones. Indeed, our voyages remind
ed me of our tobacco crop. You see I can't " sink the tailor." The
vessel is out so short a time that she avoids many dangers to which
dull sailers are exposed.
We made the coast of Ireland at noon on Good Friday, and at
twelre on the following night we were safe in the Eegent's Dock, in
Liverpool. When you consider that we had to -come the North Pas
sage (that is, between the coast of Ireland and Scotland), and crooked
as our path was, to go out of our way to Holyhead for a pilot, it was
an astonishing run. The first land we made in Ireland was Eunar-
dallah (liquid n, as in Spanish), or the Bloody Foreland, bearing on
our lee (starboard), bore S. S. E. 6 leagues — an ominous name. Fal
coner's beautiful poem. The Shipwreck, will render you mistress of
the sea-phrases. The coast of Donegal, far as the eye can reach, is
lonely, desolate, and naked; not a tree to be seen, and a single Mar-
tello tower the only evidence that it was the dwelling-place of man
Not even a sail was in sight ; and I felt a sensation of sadness and
desolation, for we seemed more forsaken and abandoned than when
surrounded only by the world of waters. This is the coast to which

THE VOYAGE. I77
our honest American (naturalized) merchants smuggle tobacco, when
piracy under Arligan colors or the slave-trade is dull. Tory island
rises like the ruins of some gigantic castle, out of the sea. I presume
that it is basaltic, like the Giant's Causeway, of which we could not get
a distinct view ; but Fairhead amply compensated us. I must not for
get, however, the beautiful revolving light of Enniatra Hull, which
at regular intervals of time broke upon us like a brilliant meteor, and
then died away ; while that on the Mull of Contire (mistaken by our
captain, who had never gone the North Passage before, for Eachlin,
or Eahery, as the Irish call it) was barely visible. It is a fixed light,
and a very bad one. After passing Fairhead, I " turned in," and was
called up at dawn to see Ailsa Craig, which our captain maintained
would be too far distant to be seen in our course, while I as stoutly de
clared we must see it if we had light. And here, by the way, my
dear, I found my knowledge of geography always gave vce the advan
tage over my companions, and rendered every object doubly interest
ing. The Irish Channel swarmed with shipping, and as we " near
ed" the Isle of Man, and her Calf, I looked out for Dirck Hatteraick
and his lugger. We hugged the Irish shore — Port Patrick, a nice
little white town on our right; ,but the green hills of Erin were as
" brown as a berry." When we came in sight of the entrance into
Strangford Look, I longed to go ashore and see Mrs. Cunningham, at
Dundrum. Tell this to my friend Ed. C, and give my love to Mrs.
Ariana, and the whole firm. Holyhead is a fine object ; so is the
Isle of Anglesea. At the first glance I recognized the Parry's Mine
mountain, with Lord Grosvenor's eopper treasures ; and Gray's Bard
rushed into my mind at the sight of the Carnarvonshire hills, with
Snowdon overtopping them all — still, not a tree to be seen. The fields
of Man are divided by stone " march-dykes," and the houses are
without shade, or shelter from the bleak' easterly winds. The float
ing light off Hoyle-sands, which we passed with the speed of a race
horse — a strong current and stiff breeze in our favor — ^was a most
striking object. One view of it represented a clergyman preaching
by candlelight, the centre light being the head ; and the two others
gave a lively picture of impassioned gesture of the arms, as they
were tossed up and down.
Although our pilot, and the captain too, declared the thing to be
impossible, we did get " round the rock," and passing a forest of
masts in the Mersey, were safely moored at quarter-past twelve, in
the dock, where ships are put away under lock and key, like books in
a book-case. After a very sound and refreshing sleep, I rose and went ashore,
in search of breakfast — for not a spark of fire, not even a candle or
lamp, can be brought into the dock, on any pretext whatsoever. At
the landward gate I stopped, expecting to be searched, but the guard
VOL. II. 8*

178 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
did not even make his appearance ; so on I passed with little Jem, a
wicked dog of a cabin-boy, carrying my bundle, to the King's Arms,
in Castle street ; but I had hardly commenced my breakfast, when
the femme d'affaires, in the person of a strapping Welsh wench, who
had tried before to put me up two pair of stairs, entered the room,
and with well dissembled dismay " begged my pardon, but the room was
engaged (it was the best in the house) for the Lord Bishop of the Isle
of Man, and the — the — the Dean of — of Canterbury." Here again my
knowledge of England, to say nothing of innkeepers, stood me in good
stead. I coolly replied that they would hardly arrive before I had
finished breakfast, and requested to see her raaster or mistress, as the
case might be. " Mrs, Jones was sick," but her niece would wait on
me. She came in the person of a pretty young married woman ; and
now the tale varied to " the room being engaged for a faraily daily ex
pected," " The name ?" " The name had not been given — was very
sorry for the mistake," &c, " Mistakes, madara, must be rectified ;
as soon as this nameless faraily arrives, I will make ray bow and give
up the parlor." " Very handsome, and very genteel, and a thousand
thanks" — and a courtesy at every word. Next day, the arrival of a
regiment from Ireland unlocked the whole mystery. The room was
wanted for the officers. And here, my dear, I ara sorry to say that,
except by cross-examination, I have not obtained a word of truth
from any of the lower orders in this country. I think that in this
respect, as well as in honesty, our slaves greatly excel them. In ur
banity they are also far superior. Now, don't you tell this to any
body — not even to your father — but keep the fact to yourself, for a
reason that I will communicate to you when I see you ; and a very
important one it is.
After receiving every civility from the collector, Mr. Swainson,
and from my countrymen,' Mr. James King, Mr. Maury, and Mr.
Haggerty, and seeing the docks, and the Islington market, I was im
patient to leave Liverpool, which bears the impress of trade upon it,
and is, of course, as dull as dull can be. The market is of new erec
tion, and I believe altogether unique — far surpassing even that of
Philadelphia, not only in the arrangement (which is that of a square,
roofed, well lighted, and unencumbered with carts, and unannoyed
by a public street on each side of it), but in the variety and delicacy
of its provisions. Here, for the first tirae, I saw a turbot, and Mr.
King bought half a one for our dinner, for which he paid half a
guinea. The variety and profesion of the vegetables, and the neat,
rosy-cheeked " Lancashire witches," that sprinkled them with water
to keep them fresh, who were critically clean in their dress and per
sons, was a most delightful spectacle. Whatever you buy is taken
home for you by women whose vocation it is ; and Mr King's house
is two miles off, at the beautiful village of Everton, commanding a

THE VOYAGE. 179
fine view of the Mersey and the opposite coast of Cheshire. For a
full account of Liverpool, see its " Picture," at Eoanoke, where you
will find, if you have them not, the other books referred to in this let
ter, and I shall write, by this packet, to Leigh, to send them to you.
The packets sail with the punctuality of stage-coaches, and arrive al
most as regularly. The Albion formed the first and most melan-
cholly exception. We were long kept in painful suspense respecting
the names of the passengers. I was afraid that my unfortunate
friend Tuboeuf was one of the "five Frenchmen." The Mr. Clark,
and lady, I take for granted is an old acquaintance, George Clark, of
Albany, son of a forraer royal governor of New-York, and a raan of
very large estate, returning with his wife to England, after fifteen or
twenty years' absence. Dupont raay be another very old acquaint
ance, whom I knew thirty-four years ago in New-York, and saw in
Charleston in 1796, and a few months ago in Washington. His
name is Victor Dupont, son of D  de Nemours, and brother of
Iren^e D. They have a large powder and woollen manufactory on
the Brandywine, in Delaware. Tuboeuf, I see, had not left the U. S.
Both he and Dupont told me they were about to cross the Atlantic.
The history of the former is the " romance of real life." In educa
tion and feeling, he is more than half a Virginian. His father was
killed by the Indians when he was a child, and he knows the rifle,
hunting-shirt, and moccasons. His father was the friend of my near
and dear relative. Jack Banister, of Battersea. When Tuboeuf I'aine
arrived at City Point he found his young friend had been dead sev
eral years. This connection determined him to Virginia, and he went
out to the Holston country, where he was killed, and where the son
lived until manhood. But I shall never get off from Liverpool.
On Wednesday morning, April 10th, I set out alone, in a post-
chaise ; and now you must take an extract frora my " log-book."
Verdure beautiful ; moss on youngest trees shows dampness of
climate. Dr. Solomon and Gilead House. The Doctor dead, but
quackery is immortal. Highfield, the seat of Mrs. Parke, on the
right ; very fine object. Around Liverpool, in their fine pastures, I
saw the raost wretched looking horses, and even cows — not a good
horse in the town. To Prescot, with a fine view of Knowsley Park,
and a glimpse of the house. Legs of Man, (the arras of the Isle of
Man are three legs, and the Stanleys, Earls of Derby, were lords of
Man, as Shakspeare will tell you. Hen. VI.) The park-keeper in the
kitchen — send for hira and talk about the horses ; all in training on
Delaraere forest, except old Milo and one other. The Earl and Count
ess in town, (this always means London Kore^oxn^- Mr. G. will deci
pher and translate my Greek for you.) So is Lord Stanley, the
Earl's eldest son, who represents the county in Parliament. Cross
the Sankey canal, the first executed in England. Soon after, pass

180 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
under the Bridgewater canal. To Warrington, Nag's Head ; cross
the Mersey, and enter Cheshire. At High Leigh, West Hall, Eger
ton Leigh, Esq., (the road-book falsely places this seat beyond Knuts
ford), and High Leigh(or East) Hall, Geo. Leigh, Esq. See Debrett's
Baronetage. At Mere, which, as the narae imports, is a beautiful
sheet of natural water, too small to be dignified with the name of
lake, but large enough to be quite rough with the wind, I came to
the first descent that could be called a hill ; for although hills and
mountains too were in sight all around rae, the roads are conducted
on a level. On the right is Mere Hall, Peter L. Brooke, Esq., a fine
seat. I ought to mention that all the seats are erabosoraed in fine
woods. There were some noble pines at High Leigh, which a Vir
ginian overseer would soon have down for tobacco sticks. The houses
of the poorest people are adorned with honeysuckles, and have flower
pots in the windows, with geraniums, &c. Dear Mrs. Bell, I thought
of her at every step ; and, by the way, Mr. G. writes that she was in
Eichmond on the 26th, and well, although he does not say a word of
a certain E. T. C, or, indeed, any body else but the Brockenbro's,
and to them he allows not quite a line. His letter of a page and a
half is most provokingly concise. What there is of it is horribly
stuffed with epithets of war, and what not, about " Fox, and Burke,
and Pitt, and Brutus, and Cassius, and Junius, and Eome ;" descend
ing by regular anti-climax to "Eussia, and Poletica, and Adams."
Pray tell him from me, that I could hardly have expected much
worse even from Mr. Walsh, if I had the misfortune to be afflicted
with his correspondence. And I had rather have heard of old Aggy
than all those fine ancients and would-be-fine moderns. Now, this from
Frank G., who can write so well, and so much to the purpose, is too
bad. I assure you, reading the result of the election of Ned Mayo, in
Henrico, was more interesting.
Before reaching Knutsford, I travelled along the huge, high wall
of Tatton Park, twelve miles in circumference. It extends to the
very town. Dine at Knutsford, and drive into the park ; superb do
main ; fine sheet of water on the right, with a view of the Lancashire
hills, about Worsley. For the sixth time to-day it snowed. Ee-
turned, and struck off from the London road, to Northwich, to see
the mines of fossil salt.
On the right of Northwich is the seat, and a very fine one it is,
of Sir John Stanley, who married the eldest daughter of Gibbon's
friend, Lord Sheffield. I felt when I saw him at Chester, as if he
was an old acquaintance. He was foreman of the grand jury, and
had his hands full of business, for there were seventy felons against
whom bills were preferred, I breakfasted at a small inn, at Sandy-
way head, having passed through a road of heavy and deep sand,
with considerable hills. But before reaching S, H., I raade the

THE VOYAGE. 181
postillion drive through Vale Eoyal Park, the proprietor of which,
Thomas Cholmondeley, Esq., is one of the new coronsition peers, by
the title of Lord Delamere. With the names and proprietors of all
these places I was as familiarly acquainted as if I had lived all ,my
life in the palatinate. Nothing can be more beautiful than these
parks. Here I saw that rara avis (rare bird) the black swan, in
company with white ones. I drove about two miles and a half before
I reached the house, when I caused the postillion to return. There
was no fear of disturbing the family, although his lordship had re
turned from town the day preceding, for it was only six o'clock, and
the great in England seldom leave their beds before noon. The
whole establishment, although not so great as Tatton, is princely. I
told the keepers of the lodges, who were very grateful for their shil
lings, to tell Lord D., if he asked, that a foreign gentleman travelling
for his health had taken the liberty to drive through his beautiful
grounds. Over Delamere forest, a rough, barren tract, for eight
miles. Very likely government have inclosed and planted it, for the
" forest" contained not a tree or shrub ; and individuals also have
done rauch in this way. At present the trees are almost knee high.
At Kelsah we leave the forest and emerge into the rich pastures and
meadows of Cheshire. To Chester — the Albion hotel ; drive to
Eaton Hall, Lord Grosvenor's ; return — dine ; misconduct of inn
keeper, who put me into his own filthy bed-chamber ; (town full, it
being assize time). Eemove to the Eoyal hotel ; visit the cathedral,
" and let my due feet never fail to walk the studious cloisters pale,"
&c.' At every turn since I came from Liverpool, I have been break
ing out into quotations from Milton and Shakspeare. Bad Latin in
a bishop ; epitaph ; and worse scholars in the Eoyal School. None
of the boys could give the Latin of their coronation banner, and I
offered half a guinea to him who would complete the following lines :
" Vir bonus est quis ? Qui consulta patruum, qui," — and translate
them. Only one boy could supply " leges juraque servat," and he be
gan " Vir bonus est quis" — " He is a good man" — so I took up my
half guinea and walked out, thinking of Mr. Brougham and his bill.
To the Castle — here two boys arraigned for robbery.
Saturday — through Eaton Park ; see the horses and grounds, and
pheasants, and hares, and deer, and stables — in comparison with
which last, the finest house I ever saw in America is a mere hovel.
(I except the public buildings at Washington, and the Bank of Penn
sylvania.) To Wrexham, in Wales, which principality I entered six
railes frora Chester. Near W., on the left, is a raagnifioent entrance
into Acton Park, Sir Foster Cunliffe's, with greyhounds, in stone, on
the gates. Cross the Dee, to Overton, eight miles. The beauty of
this country throws all that I have seen before or since into the
shade. Nothing can be imagined finer. The village of Overton is a

182 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
perfect paradise, and the vale of Dee is more like fairy-land than real
earth and water. Mr. Price's seat, at Bryxypys, surpasses all I have
seen yet. To EUesmere — Bridgewater arms. The Earl of B. has a
great estate here. The mere very beautiful. Dine, and go on to
Shrewsbury. Country changes, and becomes comparatively ugly.
To the Lion inn, at Shrewsbury. Sunday — drive through a lovely
country, to Battlefield church, five miles, on the very site of the bat
tle ground where Harry Percy's spur became cold ; mound of tho
slain. Parish clerk and wife true English cottagers. Sunday school
of clean, fine children. Eev. Mr. Williams, of Battlefield, preaches
to a congregation of rustics a truly evangelical sermon. Church per
fectly clean ; rush mats to kneel on. How different from Chester
cathedral. Only equipage a single "taxed cart." Mr. Williams
preached at Effington in the evening. Eeturned the same road to
Shrewsbury; ascended Lord Hill's column— most heavenly view.
Eemember that I am now on the Severn, and turn to Gray's Letters,
Leave the Lion, and my friend Bourne, the head waiter, and the
truly respectable landlady, with regret I hope on all sides, and go on,
with sleek, fine horses, and clean chaise, and obliging driver, to Iron-
bridge, thirteen miles, where I changed chaise and horses, and cross
ing the Severn a second time, over the bridge of one arch, ascended
a mountainous hill on the other side, through Madely market. These
are the greatest iron works (Colebrooke Dale) in England. To
Bridgeworth, seven miles, to sup and sleep. This town pleases me
more than any I have seen before or since. It is old, elean, pleasant,
romantic, with no commercial, manufacturing, or fashionable taint
about it. Cheltenham sickened me of the last
Monday, 15th — wound round the high hill of red stone ; stopped ;
ascended to the ruin of the castle and the church ; ludicrous epitaph ;
returned to the chaise, and completed our descent to the Severn, " the
very principal light and capital feature of my journey," which I again
crossed. Stopped at a small house of call to beg an idle pin. Old
man and wife show me their cows ; their tenderness to the mother
less larab, and pity of me. Their gratitude to their cow, which, said
the dame, " when my house was burnt, raaintained our whole family,
old and unsightly as she looks, but making me pounds of butter
a week." Caetera desunt Monday, past 12, May 27, 1822.
My dear Bet, — When, a few minutes ago, I wrote "cetera
desunt," as I folded my letter which young Mr Hammond waited
to the last minute to take to Liverpool, I did not know that the be
ginning, as well as the conclusion, was wanting. I now inclose it to
Mr. H.. with a request that he will put the two under one cover, and
address it to your father — as he promised to do with the first — ^for it

THE VO\"AGE. 183
was to avoid exposing your name to strangers, that I got him to takt
the letter. He carries a map of the city, in which the new improve
ments are laid down ; with this, and the Ambulator, and the Pictures
of London (all at Eoanoke), and Smith's English Atlas (also there),
you can travel with me without once mistaking your way, and, I hope.
pleasantly, as well as easily.
I left the old farmer (Evans) and his dame (for he has a small
farm under Mr. Whittemore, member for the borough of Bridge-
north), as well as his ale-house. I left the old couple fondling their
lamb, and caressing it and their kine — one a Hereford red, with a
fine calf, which they had been debating about selling to the butcher ;
but at last their affections got the better of their poverty, and the old
man concluded, by saying, it would be a pity to kill the poor thing,
and he would e'en keep it for the mother's sake. Although I stopped
for a pin to fasten up the envious curtain behind the chaise, yet I asked
for a draught of milk, warm from the favorite cow, which was given
to me in a clean porringer, with a face of as true benevolence as I
ever saw. On taking leave, I asked to contribute towards the re
building of the burnt house, telling them it was the custom in the
country I came from. But the old man, -with a face of great surprise,
said, " I was kindly welcome to the milk ; it was a thing of nothing ;"
and they both rejected the money (only two half-crowns), until I told
them they raust oblige me by accepting it, or I should be ashamed
of having such a trifle returned. Whereupon the gude man said he
would give the postillion with the retutn chaise a skinful of his best
ale, when he carae back ; and the dame, ascribing her good fortune
to the mercy shown to the calf, promised, at my request, to remember
me, in her prayers, as the sick stranger to whom she had ministered ;
and I left thera, with feelings of deep respect for their honest poverty
and kind-heartedness. Mr. Whitteraore is a great proprietor here.*
His great house, on the right, is under repair, and he occupies a " cot
tage " in the village ; about such a house as Mr. Wickhara's. His
poor tenant at Quat is the third instance I have met with of a per
son refusing money here. The first was the parish-clerk, at Battle
field ; the next. Bourne, the head-waiter at the Lion ; a thing hardly
credible in England, where the rapacity of this class, in particular, is
proverbial ; for — asking Mr. Wickhara's pardon for making free with
his person, as well as his house — you meet with as well dressed per
sons as himself n ho will make you a low bow for sixpence ; aye, and
beg for it, to boot I thought a thousand times of Mr. Wickhara's
speech. Plunder is the order of the day. Shopkeepers, tradesmen,
but, above all, innkeepers, waiters, postillions, ostlers, and charaber-
maids, fleece you without mercy ; all is venal. Pray remember the
boots ! Something for the waiter, sir ! — and this at a coffee-house
where you have only stepped in to take a glass of negus, after a

184 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
play, and have paid a double price for it You can't get a reply
to the plainest question without paying for it, unless you go into
a shop; and to speak to one whom you don't know, is received
with an air as if you had clapped a pistol to his breast.
But I should do the greatest injustice were I not to say, that the
higher ranks — a few despicable and despised fashionables ex
cepted — are as" unpretending and plain as our old-fashioned Virgin
ian gentlemen, whom they greatly resemble. This class of men is
now nearly extinct, to my great grief, and the shame and loss of our
country. They are as distinct from the present race in their raanners,
dress, principles, and every thing but anatoraical structure, as an
eagle is frora a pig, or a wild turkey from a turkey-buzzard. The
English gentleman is not graceful, not affable, but plain, sincere, kind,
without one particle of pretension in dress, manner, or any thing
else. At Kidderminster, I breakfasted (15 miles), and saw the carpet
manufactory, and bought four hearth rugs. I also visited the old
church, as was my custom, and copied an epitaph, not on the rich
and great, but a poor sergeant, erected by his colonel; I mean the
monument was, not the epitaph. We entered Worcestershire some
miles before we reached Kidderminster. It is perhaps the 'finest
county in the kingdom, take it for all and all. Among the seats
between Kidderminster and Worcester, are Halleburg ; the Bp. of
W.'s, where the pigs (hogs, we should call them,) were in the beauti
ful grounds ; Waverley House, Mrs. Orange, a rich widow lady,
with an only daughter, unmarried — this is one of the prettiest and
finest places I have seen ; Sir John Fleming Leicester's, between
Knutsford and Northwich (which I just remember to have omitted), is
another very capital place ; and I am sure I have not mentioned a
thousand superior to any thing we have. But the air of comfort and
fatness since we left Lancashire, is very refreshing. The houses are
old and weather-stained, but clean to fastidiousness ; sorae of frame
work, filled in with brick ; the timbers black, and the brick-work
overcast with lime, and white as this paper ; casement-lights, leaden
sashes, &c. Ombresley Court, Lady Downshire's, which is the
ancient seat of the Sandys family, is a fine place. She is a Sandys,
and Baroness S. in her own right. I thought of Walpole and Pulte-
ney, and her progenitor who sunk into a peerage.
At Worcester, in driving into the Hop Pole Inn yard, the postil
lion had nearly killed a poor girl, with a child in her arms. She was
thrown down, but, God be praised ! neither were hurt. I would not
endure what I felt while the suspense lasted for any consideration.
Town full, Quarter sessions. Cleanest and prettiest town (a city)
that I have yet seen. Determined to remain, and see the cathedral ;
but next morning I determined otherwise.

INCIDENTS IN ENGLAND. 185
Giving up, for the present, my pilgrimage to Cheltenham, I set
out on the top of the coach, paying 12 shillings for my fare to Lon
don, and through the Vale of Evesham, and an enchanting coun
try through Pershire, Bengeworth, Morton, Broadway (where is a
tremendous hill, commanding the whole vale and the Malvern Hills),
Morton, Woodstock, Oxford, a city of palaces.
And here, my dear Bet, I must again abruptly close this long-
winded epistle, with assurances of my exalted regard. ,1. E. OF B.
I broke open this letter myself.

CHAPTEE XXI.
INCIDENTS IN ENGLAND.
In the month of June, says Mr. Harvey, I went over to London, ac
companied by my father, who had been suramoned to attend a com
mittee of the House of Commons, to give evidence in a cage of some
importance. I had prepared my father for an introduction to my
most eccentric friend, and yet, when I did introduce him, he could
.scarcely refrain from smiling. " Sir," said Mr. Eandolph, " I am
proud to make the acquaintance of the son of that man who received
the thanks of Congress for his kindness to my poor countrymen.
Your son, my young friend here, sir, tells me he has .delivered ray
letter, and I hope you will soon receive the books from my bookseller
in Washington. Keep them as a memento of my friendship, sir."
My father thanked him warmly for his kindness, and we entered into
a general conversation. Suddenly Eandolph rose from his chair, and,
in his most imposing manner, thus addressed him : " Mr. H  , two
days ago I saw the greatest curiosity in London ; aye, and in England,
too, sir — compared to which, Westminster Abbey, the Tower, Somer
set House, the British Museum, nay Parliament itself, sink into Utter
insignificance ! I have seen, sir, Elizabeth Fry, of Newgate, and I
have witnessed there, sir, miraculous effects of true Christianity upon
the most depraved of human beings — bad women, sir, who are worse,
if possible, than the devil himself! and yet the wretched outcasts

186 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
have been tamed and subdued by the Christian eloquence of Mrs,
Fry ! I have seen thera weep repentant tears whilst she addressed
them. I have heard their groans of despair, sir ! Nothing but reli
gion can effect this miracle, sir ; for what can be a greater miracle
than the conversion of a degraded, sinful woman, taken from the very
dregs of society ! Oh ! sir, it was a sight worthy the attention of
angels ! You raust, also, see this wonder, sir ; and, by the way, this
is one of her visiting days — let us go at once ; we shall just be in
time. She has given me permission to bring any of my friends with
me. I shall introduce you, sir, with great pleasure." We iraraedi-
ately ordered a coach, and drove to Mrs. Fry's house, but found, to
our no small disappointment, that she was not in town that day.
It was ray good fortune, afterwards, to become acquainted with
Mrs. Fry, and to spend a day or two at her country-seat, near Lon
don, and I need scarcely add, that my admiration of her character
was, if possible, increased by this introduction into her social circle.
In the course of conversation, I said to Miss Fry, " Pray tell me in
what way you became acquainted with my eccentric friend Eandolph ?"
" Why," replied she, " in rather an eccentric way. One day my mo
ther was in town, getting ready to go to Newgate, when a stranger
was announced. A tall, thin gentleman, with long hair, and very
strangely dressed, entered the parlor, walked deliberately up to my
mother, who rose to receive hira, and held out his hand, saying, in
the sweet tone of a lady's voice, ' I feel I have some right to intro
duce myself to Elizabeth Fry, as I ara the friend of her friend, Jessy
Kersey, of Philadelphia, (a celebrated preacher in the Society of
Friends). I am John Eandolph, of Eoanoke, State of Virginia ; the fel
low countryman of Washington.' My raother, who had heard a great
deal of him from different persons, gave him a cordial reception ; and
was so extremely pleased with his most original conversation, she not
only took him with her to Newgate, but invited him to corae and see us.
We have since seen hira several times, and have been highly delighted
with him. Last week some strangers were to dine with us, and my
raother invited hira to be of the nuraber. In writing the note of in
vitation, I apologized to him for naming so unfashionably early an
hour as four o'clock, knowing that at the west end he never dined be
fore eight. His reply was quite characteristic, and made us all
laugh heartily. Here it is: 'Mr. Eandolph regrets that a prior en-

INCIDEinrS IN ENGLAND. 187
gagement will deprive him of the pleasure of dining with Mrs. Fry
on Thursday next. No apology, however, was necessary for the early
hour naraed in her note, as it is two hours later than Mr. E. is accus
tomed to dine in Virginia ; and he has not yet been long enough in
London to learn how to turn day into night, and vice versa.' "
I told Eandolph, next day, that I had seen his note. " Well, sir,"
said he, " and was I not right to be candid ? Mrs. Fry is a most sen
sible woman, sir, and she shows her good taste by opposing the fool
ish customs of the aristocracy ; and I wanted her to know that I agreed
with her, sir. I can go all but the late dinners ; they are killing rae,
sir ; and I raust quickly rim away frora London, or cut ray noble ac
quaintances." Before my arrival in London, Lord L  , meeting Eandolph
one night, under the gallery of the House of Commons, introduced
himself to him, and they became very intimate. His lordship said
bo me one day afterwards, " I have never met with so thoroughly
well-informed a gentleman as your friend Eandolph, no matter what
the subject — history, belles-lettres, biography ; but, sir, the most
astonishing part of all is, that he possesses a minute local knowledge
of England and Ireland. I thought that I knew them well, but I
assure you I was obliged to yield the palm to him. I have purposely
tried to puzzle or confuse him, but all in vain. His conversational
powers are most dazzling, even in London, sir, where we pride our
selves on good talkers. I never have been so much struck with any
stranger ; and although a high tory, I always forgot that he was a re
publican. By the way, not a very bigoted one, sir. I never heard
him abuse the aristocracy ! I was so much pleased with him, on our
first interview, I deterrained • to pay him a mark of respect, which I
was sure would gratify his Virginia pride. I solicited permission
from the Lord Chancellor, to introduce Mr. Eandolph, as a distin
guished American, into the House of Lords, by the private entrance,
near the throne, instead of obliging him to force his way, with the
crowd, at the common entrance. Having obtained his lordship's con
sent, I then introduced Mr. Eandolph to the door-keeper, and desired
him to admit hira whenever he presented himself, without requiring
him to exhibit any special order: His figure and whole appearance
ire so singular, I ran no risk in having any counterfeit Randolphs, —
a,nd I said so to the door-keeper, as some excuse for omitting our

188 LIFE OF JOHN EANDOLrai.
usual practice. When I told him of his privilege, I saw at once thai
I had won my way to his heart ; and amply has he repaid lae, sir, by
the richness of his conversations whenever we have since met."
A few days after my arrival in London, continues Mr. Harvey,
I had an opportunity of testing the value of this privilege of private
entry. It -will be recollected that George Canning, in the year 1822,
just previous to his intended departure as governor-general of India
(which never took place, owing to Lord Castlereagh's death), Intro
duced, and carried through the House of Commons, the " Eoman
Catholic Peers' bill," as it was called, which he intended as a fare
well legacy to his countrymen. It passed by a handsome majority,
and was then sent to undergo the fiery ordeal of the House of Lords,
The subject en-grossed public attention, and there was great anxiety
to attend the debate on the appointed night. The Marquis of L  ¦
was kind enough to present me with an order to admit two persons —
myself and friend — and I returned to our lodgings in great glee.
There i found Eandolph, told him of my good luck, and offered him
the unoccupied half of my order.
" Pray, sir," said he " at which door ^ojyou intend to enter the
House ?
" At the lower door, of course," replied I " where all strangers
enter,'' " Not all strangers if you please," said he, " for I shall enter at the
private door, near the throne !" " Oh, my dear sir," replied I, "your
privilege, I dare say, will answer on any common occasion ; but to-
aight the members of the House of Comraons will entirely fill the
space around the throne, and no stranger, depend upon it, will be
a;draitted there. So be wise, and don't refuse this chance, or you
will regret it,"
" What sir,'' retorted he, " do you suppose I would consent to
struggle with and push through the crowd of persons who, for two
long hours, must fight their way in at the lower door ? Oh no, sir ! I
shall do no such thing ; and if I cannot enter as a gentleman com
moner, I go not at all ! "
After vainly endeavoring to induce him to change his mind, we
separated ; he for the aristocratic errtrance, I for the comraon one.
With great difficulty, and wondering how I had preserved my coat-tails
whole, I finally squeezed myself into the House, half suffocated, and

INCIDENTS IN ENGLAND. 189
¦was fortunate enough (being then young and active) to secure a stand
at the bar, from whence I could see my noble lord's face, and hear
-every word that was spoken. Casting a glance towards the throne
soon after my entrance, to my no small surprise and -envy, I beheld
*' Eandolph of Eoanoke " in all his glory, walking in most leisurely,
and perfectly at home, along-side of Canning, Lord Castlereagh, Sir
Eobert Peel, and many other distinguished members of the House
of Commons. Some of these gentlemen even selected for him a pro
minent position, where he could see and hear perfectly, and I observ
ed many oourtesies passing between them during the night. Very
shortly after Mr. Eandolph's arrival in London, a isplendid ball
was given, under the immediate patronage of George the Fourth and
the principal nobility, for the benefit of the poor Irish peasantry of
Munster and Connaught, who were suffering from the effects of
famine, attended as usual by disease. It was a magnificent affair,
Randolph attended,, glad of an opportunity to give his mite, and to
behold at the same time the congregated aristocracy of -Great Britain.
*' It was «heap, sir, very cheap " said he to me, " actors and actresses
innumerable, and all dressed out raost gorgeously. There were
jewels enough, sir, there, to make new crowns for all the monarchs
of Europe ! And I, too, republican though I am, must needs go
in court-dress ! Well sir, 'dont imagine that I was so foolish as ts
purchase a new suit, at a cost of twenty-five or thirty guineas. Oh
no ! I have not studied London life for nothing. I have been told,
sir, that many a noble lady would appear at the ball thiit night with
Jewels hired for the occasion ; and I took the hint, sir, and hired a
full court-dress for five guineas. When I beheld myself in the glass,
I laughed at the oddity of ray appearance, and congratulated ray
self that I was thVee thousand miles from Charlotte Court-House.
Had I played the harlequin there, sir, I think my next election
would be doubtful. I stole into the room, with rather a nervous
walk, and was about selecting a very quiet position in a corner, when
your, countryman. Lord Castlereagh, seeing my embarrassment,
came forward, and with an air of the most finished politeness, insist
ed upon being my chaperon. For one hour he devoted himself to
me, and pointed out all persons of notoriety in the crowd as they
passed us in review. Such was the fascination of his manners, I for
got, for the moment, that I was speaking to the man wio had sold

IC^O LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
his country's independence and his own ; who had lent his aid to a
licentious monarch to destroy his queen, who, if guilty, might point
to her husband's conduct as the cause of her fall. But, sir, I was
spellbound for that hour, for never did I meet a more accomplished
gentleman ; and yet he is a deceitful politician, whose character none
can admire. An Irish tory, sir, I never could abide.'' Miss Edge-
worth and Eandolph met together for the first time at the breakfast-
table of a very distinguished Irish meraber of Parliament (now a
peer of the realm). The gentleman to whom I refer, told rae that
it was an intellectual feast, such as he had rarely enjoyed before.
To use his own words :
" Spark produced spark, and for three hours they kept up the
fire, until it ended in a perfect blaze of wit-, huraor, and repartee.
It appeared to me that Mr. E. was more intimately acquainted with
Miss Edgeworth's works than she was herself He frequently quoted
passages where her memory was at fault ; and he brought forward
every character of any note in all her productions : but what most
astonished us was, his intimate knowledge of Ireland. Lady T 
and rayself did nothing but listen ; and I was really vexed when sorae
public business called rae away."
" Who do you think I raet under the gallery of the House of
Comraons ?" said Eandolph to me one day. " You can't guess, and
so I'll tell you. There was a spruce, dapper little gentleman sitting
next to me, and he made some trifling remark, to which I replied.
We then entered into conversation, and I found him a most fascinat
ing witty fellow. He pointed out to rae the distinguished members
who were unknown to me, and frequently gave them a friendly shot.
At parting, he handed me his card, and I read with sorae surprise,
' Mr. Thomas Moore,' Yes, sir, it was the ' Bard of Erin ;' and upon
this disoDvery I said to him, ' Well, Mr. Moore, I am delighted to
meet you thus ; and I tell you, sir, that I envy you more for being
the author of the " Twopenny Post-bag " and " Tora Crib's Meraorial
to Congress," than for all your beautiful songs, which play the fool
with young ladies' hearts.' He laughed heartily at what he called
my ' singular taste,' and we parted the best friends imaginable."
Mr. Eandolph was present at a large meeting of the African In
stitution at London. Mr. Wilberforce, after speaking with his usual
ability and eloquence on the appropriate subjects of the occasion,
concluded by pronouncing a warm panegyric upon the example set
by the United States of Araerica, in making the slave-trade piracy,
and upon Mr. Eandolph's great efforts in promoting that act.

INCIDENTS IN ENGLAND. 191
Mr. Eandolph then rose to return thanks for the mark of respect
towards the United States of America. After a few appropriate re
marks, he thanked the meeting for the grateful sense they had
expressed towards America ; and also assured them that all that was
exalted in station, in talent, and in moral charaeter among his coun
tryraen, was (as was also to be found in England) firmly united for
the suppression of this infamous traffic. It was delightful to hira to
know that Virginia, the land of his sires, the place of his nativity,
had for half a century affixed a public brand and indelible stigma
upon this traffic, and had put ia the claim of the wretched objects of
it to the coramon rights and attributes of huraanity.
The plainness of Mr. Eandolph's appearance, says a London
paper, his republican siraplicity of manners, and easy and unaffected
address, attracted much attention, and he sat down amidst a burst of
applause. Mr. Eandolph travelled extensively in England and Scotland,
met a flattering and distinguished reception wherever he went, was
pleased with every thing, and delighted every body -with his cordial
manner and fascinating conversation. He returned to the United
States about the last of November, and was present during the last
session of the seventeenth Congress, which, on the 3d of March, 1823,
was closed ; but he did not open his lips on any occasion whatever ;
indeed there was no discussion of any iinportance during the session.
Immediately on the adjournment he hurried off to Virginia, and
spent some days with his friend, William E. Johnson, in Chesterfield,
who was then in high training for the great match race between the
North and the South. The exercise and excitement of raind in anti
cipation of his favorite sport produced an evident change in Mr. Ean
dolph's health ; it was much improved ; he slept better than he had
for ten years.
" To that night," says he, " spent on a shuck matress in a little
garret roora at Chesterfield Court-house, Sunday, March the 9th,
1823, I look back with delight. It was a storray night. The win
dows clattered, and William E. Johnson got up several times to try
and put a stop to the noise, by thrusting a glove between the loose
sashes. I heard the noise ; I even heard him ; but it did not dis
turb me. I enjoyed a sweet nap of eight hours, during which, he said,
he never heard rae breathe. N. B. I had fasted all day, and supped
(which I have not done since) on a soft egg and a bit of biscuit. My

192 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
feelings next day were as new aud delightful as those of any bride
the day after her nuptials, and the impression (on memory at least)
as strong," He was present (as most lovers of the turf were) at the celebrated
race between Eclipse and Henry, on the Long Island Course, in the
month of May, He stood in a very conspicuous place on the stand
during the race, surrounded by gentlemen of the North and the
South ; and he evidently was very confident of the success of Henry.
But after the result, to him so unexpected, and while the thousands
of spectators were vociferously applauding the successful rider
(Purdy), Mr. Eandolph gave vent to his great disappointment by
exclaiming to those around him in his most satirical tone :
" Well, gentlemen, it is a lucky thing for the country that the
President of the United States is not elected by acclamation, else
Mr. Purdy would be our next President, beyond a doubt."
He then left the ground, and spent the evening with Mr. Eufus
King, at Jamaica. Next day he said to a friend, with a sigh :
" Ah, sir ! only for that unfortunate vote on the Missouri question,
he would be our man for the presidency. He is, sir, a genuine Eng
lish gentleman of the old school ; just the right man for these degen
erate' times. But, alas ! it cannot be !"
Mr. Eandolph, soon after this event, retired into his usual summer
solitude, at Eoanoke. Thence, on the 25th of July, he asks Dr.
Brockenbrough, " You and Mr. Wickham are wise men, but a by
stander, you know, sees the blots of better players than hiraself
Are you both resolved to die in harness ? You raay put the question
to rae, but I tell you NO. March 3, 1825, is the utmost limit of my
servitude, But what's the use of talking ? — ' a raan will do what he
will do ;' a saying, which, like some others, I once took to be rather
silly, but which, I have since found out, contains much sense. * * *
" You wouldn't infer it from the tone of this epistle, but I too am
sick — seriously sick, as well as home-sick, i. e. as Sir John Brute was
wife-sick. My oaks send love and duty to you and the silent Mad
ame, and hope you'll never be as tired of them as their master is, I
would go among the Selvidges, beyond the ' mountings,' but I dare
not encounter Pharaoh's plagues, I'd rather be swallowed up in the
Eed Sea at once.

EIGHTEENTH CONGRESS. I93
" P. S, In sheer distress what to do with myself, I yesterday
read Don Juan — the third, fourth and fifth cantos for the first
time — fact, I assure you. It is diabolically good. The ablest, I am
inclined to think, of all his performances. I now fully comprehend
the cause of the odium plusquam theologicum of the lake school, to
ward this wayward genius. I am not sorry that I had not read the
whole when I was in Southey's company. I could not have conversed
so unreservedly as I did on the subject of Byron's writings."
In October, he says : " The life I lead here is enough to destroy
the intellectual and moral faculty of any liuman being. It reserables,
in many points, solitary confinement. It ,s the daily recurrence of
the same dreary scene ; and when evening sets in, so that I cannot
read or ride, nothing can be imagined raore forlorn. But I struggle
through it, as the will of Providence.
" I've received from London some publications on the subject of
slavery, that have awakened me more than ever to that raomentous
question. They are from Wilberforce, T. Clarkson, Adam Hodgson,
and a larger pamphlet, entitled ' Negro Slavery as it exists in the
U. S. and the West Indies, especially in Jamaica ' — that being hold
up as the negro paradise, by the W. I. body in England."

CHAPTEE XXII.
EIGHTEENTH CONGRESS — CONSOLIDATION IS THE ORDER OF
THE, DAY — "speak A CHEERING WORD TO THE GREEKS."
In 1822, a leading federalist, one who was conspicuous in the attempt
to elect Burr over Jefferson, and was opposed to every raeasure of
the Jefferson and of the Madison administrations, in 1822, made use
of these words : " The federalists almost unanimously declared their
approbation of the leading measures of the Governraent, and gave it
their cordial support. The National Government, indeed, destroyed
the federal party, in the only way it could be destroyed, by adopting
substantially its principles." This was true in that " era of good-
feeling,'' when we were " all federalists -and all republicans." The
VOL. n. 9

194 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
seeds of consolidation were sowed broad-cast. But at no period were
raore rapid strides made toward a prostration of all the barriers of
the Constitution, than at the first session of the eighteenth Congress.
A general distress pervaded all departraents of business. The peo
ple were taught to look to Government for relief, and were ready to
acquiesce in any measure that gave hopes of present alleviation,
without regard to the consequences ; and, besides this, there seemed to
be a universal madness — a national and individual ambition that
o'erleaped all bounds, and embraced the whole world in .'ts aspiring
grasp. The body politic seemed to be radically diseased. " You are
right," said Eandolph, to a friend who was deploring ;he state of
things, " consolidation is the order of the day. The epidemic shows
itself in a thousand Protean forms : so was despotism epidemic frora
the foundations of the world. In that state of the body politic the
predisposition turns every piraple to cancer." With this belief,
and in this spirit, he met and manfully, though often unsuccessfully,
fought each Protean shape, as it successively arose to distil its lep
rous poison into the Constitution, or to develope the seeds of some
gangrenous ulcer, deep festering in the body politic.
The first subject Mr. Eandolph met and successfully opposed,
was the raeasure proposed by Congress to be adopted on the Greek
question. It will be recollected that the Spanish provinces, Mexico,
Peru, New Granada, and others, had been struggling for a long tirae
for their independence. They had been recognized by the United
States as independent Eepublics, and rainisters had been sent to re
side near their respective governments. But Spain still persisted in
her efforts to reconquer her revolted provinces ; and it was rumored
that aid would be granted her for this purpose, by the allied powers
of Europe. In the mean time, the Greeks, also, had revolted from
the odious yoke of Turkish despotism, and were fighting with a valor
and a success worthy of the better days of Thermopylae and of Mar
athon. In this state of things, the President in his annual message to
Congress expressed the opinion that there was reason to hope that
the Greeks would be successful in the present struggle with their
oppressors, and that the power that has so long crushed them had
lost its dominion over them for ever. The same communication con
tained other matters of great importance, in relation to the rumored

EIGHTEENTH CONGRESS. I95
combination of foreign sovereigns to interfere in the affairs of South
America. Under these circumstances, Mr. Webster thought it was
proper and becoming that the communication of the President should
receive some response from the House of Eepresentatives. Accord
ingly, on Monday, Deceraber the 8th, 1823, he submitted for consider
ation a resolution : " That provision ought to be made, by law, for
defraying the expense incident to the appointment of an agent, or
commissioner, to Greece, whenever the President shall deem it expe
dient to make such appointment."
On the 19th of January the resolution was called up, and Mr.
Webster delivered his sentiments on the subject embraced in it, in a
speech of great power, eloquence, and feeling. When he sat down,
Mr. Clay introduced a resolution : " That the people of these States
would not see, without serious inquietude, any forcible interposition
by the allied powers of Europe, in behalf of Spain, to reduce to
their former subjection those parts of the continent of America which
have proclaimed and established for themselves, respectively, inde
pendent governments, and which have been solemnly recognized
by the United States." Thus the whole field of foreign politics was
brought within the scope of the debate.
Next day Mr. Poinsett delivered his sentiments at length on the
subject, and concluded by moving a modification of Mr. Webster's
resolution, so as merely to express the syrapathy of the nation for the
suffering Greeks, and the interest felt by the Government in their wel
fare and success. Mr. Clay then followed and expressed himself with
great force. It was, indeed, a glorious theme ! wide as the sufferings
of huraanity ; deep as the love of liberty in the breast of man. It
was a subject that took hold on the hearts of the people ; predisposed
to sympathize with nations struggling against despotism every where,
how could they resist the appeals of the glorious descendants of
Leonidas, and of Epaminondas, and Philopoemen ; aided, too, by
the condensed logic of Webster, the varied learning of Poinsett,
and the fervid eloquence of Henry Clay? A harvest of golden
opinions was to be the destined reward of this day's exhibition.
Webster was to be translated into Greek, to be read with rapture
through the Pekponnesus, and to be pronounced side by side with
Demosthenes frora the heights of the Acropolis ; while Clay was to
receive the thanks and the gratitude of the South American Eepub

196 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
lies through the person of the great Liberator, the modern Wash
ington. Under such circumstances, it took a man of no ordinary strength
of character to resist these seductive raeasures, and expose their true
nature and tendency. John Eandolph was the man for the times ;
he was then, as he had been for years past, " the solitary warder on
the wall ;" all others were asleep, or caught away by the enthusiasm ,
he saw the danger, and gave the alarm.
" This," said he, " is perhaps one of the finest and prettiest themes
for declamation ever presented to a deliberative asserably. But it
appears to rae in a light very different frora any that has as yet been
thrown upon it.
" I look at the measure as one fraught with deep and deadly dan
ger to the best interests and to the liberties of the American people ;
so satisfied, sir, am I of this, that I have been constrained by the
conviction to overcome the almost insuperable repugnance I feel to
throwing myself upon the notice of the House ; but I feel it to be
my duty to raise my voice against both these propositions.
My intention in rising at present, sir, is merely to move, that the
eomraittee rise, and that both of the resolutions raay be printed. I
wish to have some time to think of this business, to deliberate, before
we take this leap in the dark into the Archipelago, or the Black Sea,
or into the wide-mouthed La Plata. I know, sir, that the post of
honor is on the other side of the House, the post of toil and of diffi
culty on this side, if, indeed, any body shall be with me on this side.
It is a difficult and an invidious task to stem the torrent of public
sentiment, when all the generous feelings of the human heart are ap
pealed to. But I was delegated, sir, to this House, to guard the
interests of the people of the United States, not to guard the rights
of other people ; and, if it was doubted, even in the case of England,
a land fertile above all other lands (not excepting Greece herself) in
great and glorious men — if it was doubted whether her interference
in the politics of the continent, though separated from it only by a
narrow strait, not so wide as the Chesapeake, as our Mediterranean
Sea, had redounded either to her honor or advantage ; if the effect of
that interference has been a monumental debt that paralyzes the arm
that might now strike for Greece, that certainly would have struck
for Spain, can it be for us to seek, in the very bottom of the Mediter
ranean, for a quarrel with the Ottoman Porte ? And this, while we
have an ocean rolling between ? While we are in that sea without a
single port to refit a gun-boat ; and while the powers of Barbary lie
in succession in our path, shall we open this Pandora's box of politi
cal evils ? Are we prepared for a war with these pirates ? (not that

EIGHTEENTH CONGRESS. 197
<fe are not perfectly competent to such a war, but) does it suit our
finances ? Does it suit, sir, our magnificent projects of roads and
canals ? Does it suit the temper of our people ? Does it promote
their interests ? will it add to their happiness ? Sir, why did we
remain supine while Piedmont and Naples were crushed by Austria ?
Why did we stand aloof, while the Spanish peninsula was again
reduced under legitimate government ? If we did not interfere then,
why now ?
" This Quixotism, in regard either to Greece or to South Ameri
ca, is not what the sober and reflecting minds of our people require
at our hands. Sir, we are in debt as individuals, and we are in debt
as a nation ; and never, since the days of Saul and David, or Csesar
and Catiline, could a more unpropitious period have been found for
such an undertaking. The state of society is too much disturbed.
There is always, in a debtor, a tendency either to torpor or to despe
ration — neither condition is friendly to such deliberations. But I
will su,spend what I have further to say on this subject. For my part,
I see as much danger, and raore, in the resolution proposed by the
gentleman from Kentucky, as in that of the gentleman from Massa
chusetts. The war that may follow on the one, is a distant war ; it
lies on the other side of the ocean. The war that may. be induced
by the other, is a war at hand ; it is on the same continent. I am
equally opposed to the amendment which has been since offered to
the original resolutions. Let us look a little further at all of them.
Let us sleep upon them before we pass resolutions, which, I will not
say, are raere loops to hang speeches on, and thereby commit the na
tion to a war, the issues of which it is not given to human sagacity
to divine." The resolutions were postponed. When again taken up, Mr. Ean
dolph spoke at large upon them. We must be content with a few par
agraphs,' only.
" It is with serious concern and alarm," said Mr. Eandolph, " that
I have heard doctrines broached in this debate, fraught with conse
quences, more disastrous to the best interests of this people, than any
that I ever heard advanced, during the five and twenty years since I
have been honored with a seat on this floor. They imply, to my ap
prehension, a total and fundamental change of the policy pursued by
this Government, ah urbe condita — from the foundation of the Eepub
lic, to the present day. Are we, sir, to go on a crusade, in another
hemisphere, for the propagation of two objects as dear and delightful
to my heart, as to that of any gentleman in this, or in any other as
sembly — Liberty and Eeligion — and, in the name, of these holy
words — by this powerful spell, is this nation to be conjured and be
guiled out of the highway of heaven — out of its present compara-

198 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
tively happy state, into all the disastrqus conflicts arising from ths
policy of European powers, with all the consequences which flow from
them ? Liberty and Eeligion, sir ! Things that are yet dear, in spite
of all the mischief that has been perpetrated in their name. I be
lieve that nothing similar to this proposition is to be found in modern
history, unless in the famous decree of the French National Assem
bly, which brought combined Europe against them, with its iinited
strength ; and, after repeated struggles, finally effected the downfall
of the French power.
" I will respectfully ask the gentleman from Massachusetts,
whether, in his very able and masterly argum 'mt — and he has said
all that could be said on the subject, and much raore than I supposed
could have been said by any man in favor of his resolution — whether
he, himself, has not furnished an answer to his speech. I had not
the happiness myself to hear his speech, but a friend has read it to
me — in one of the arguments in that speech, towards the conclusion,
I think, of his speech, the gentleman lays down frora Puffendorff, in
reference to the honeyed words and pious professions of the Holy Al
liance, that these are all surplusage, because nations are always sup
posed to be ready to do what justice and national law require. Well,
sir, if this be so, why may not the Greeks presume — why are they
not in this principle, bound to presume — that this Government is dis
posed to do all, in reference to them, that they ought to do, without
any formal resolutions to that effect ? I ask the gentleman frora Mas
sachusetts, whether the doctrine of Puffendorff does not apply as
strongly to the resolution as to the declaration of the Allies — that is,
if the resolution of the gentleman be indeed that almost nothing he
would have us suppose, if there be not something behind this nothing,
which divides this House, (not horizontally, as the gentleraan has
somewhat quaintly said — but vertically) into two unequal parties; one
the advocate of a splendid system of crusades, the other, the friends
of peace and harmony ; the advocates of a fireside policy — for, as
long as all is right at the fireside, there cannot be rauch wrong else
where — whether, I repeat, does not the doctrine of Puffendorff apply
as well to the words of the resolution, as to the words of the Holy
Alliance ?
" There was another remark that fell frora the gentleraan frora
Massachusetts — of which I shall speak, as I shall always speak of
any thing from that gentleman, with all the personal respect that
raay be consistent with the freedora of discussion. Among other
cases forcibly put by the gentleman, why he would embark in this
incipient crusade against Mussulraen, he stated this as one — that they
hold human beings as property. Aye, sir, — and what says the Con
stitution of the United States on this point ? — unless, indeed, that
instrument is wholly to be excluded frora consideration — unless it is

EIGHTEENTH CONGRESS. 199
to be regarded as a mere useless parchment, worthy to be burnt, as
was once actually proposed. Does not that Constitution give its sanc
tion to the holding of human beings as property ? Sir, I am not go
ing to discuss the abstract question of liberty or slavery, or any other
abstract question. I go for raatters of fact. But I would ask gen
tlemen in this House, who have the misfortune to reside on the
wrong side of a certain mysterious parallel of latitude, to take this
question seriously into consideration — whether the Governaient of the
United States is prepared to say, that the act of holding human be
ings as property, is sufficient to place the party so offending, undei
the ban of its high and mighty displeasure ?
" Sir, I am afraid, that, along with some most excellent attributes
and qualities — the love of liberty, jury trial, the writ of habeas cor
pus, and all the blessings of free government we have derived from
our Anglo-Saxon ancestors, we have got not a little of their John
Bull, or rather John Bull-dog spirit — their readiness to fight for any
body, and on any occasion. Sir, England has been for centuries the
garae-cock of Europe. It is impossible to specify the wars in which
she has been engaged for contrary purposes ; and she will with great
pleasure, see us take off her shoulders the labor of preserving the
balance of power. We find her fighting, now for the Queen of Hun
gary — then for her inveterate foe, the King of Prussia — now at war
for the restoration of the Bourbons — and now on the eve of war with
thera for the liberties of Spain.
" These lines on the subject, were never more applicable, than they
have now become :
" ' Now Europe's balanced — neither side prevails.
For nothing's left in either of the scales.'
" If we pursue the same policy, we must travel the same road, and
endure the same burthens, under which England now groans. But.
glorious as such a design raight be, a President of the United States
would, in my apprehension, occupy a prouder place in history, who,
when he retires from office, can say to the people who elected him, I
leave you without a debt, than if he had fought as raany pitched bat
tles as Csesar, or achieved as many naval victories as Nelson. And
what, sir, is debt ? In an individual it is slavery. It is slavery of
the worst sort, surpassing that of the West India Islands, for it en
slaves the raind, as well as it enslaves the body ; and the creature who
can be abject enough to incur and to submit to it, receives, in that condi
tion of his being, perhaps, an adequate punishment. Of course, I speak
of debt, with the exception of unavoidable raisfortune. I speak of
debt caused by raismanagement, by unwarrantable generosity, by being
generous before being just. I am aware that this sentiment was ridi
culed by Sheridan, whose lamentable end was the best commentary
upon its truth. No, sir ; let us abandon these projects. Let us say

200 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
to those seven millions of Greeks, ' We defended ourselves when we
were but three millions, against a power, in comparison with which
the Turk is but a lamb. Go and do thou likewise,' And so with
the governments of South America, If, after having achieved their
independence, they have not valor to raaintain it, I would not comrait
the safety and independence of this country in such a cause. I will,
in both these, pursue the same line of conduct which I have ever pur
sued, from the day I took a seat in this House, in 1 799, from which,
without boasting, I challenge any gentleman to fix upon me any color
able charge of departure.
" Let us adhere to the policy laid down by the second as well as
the first founder of our republic — by him who was the CamUlus, as
well as EomulusJ of the infant State — to the policy of peace, com
merce, and honest friendship with all nations, entangling alliances
with none ; for to entangling alliances we must come, if you once em
bark in policy such as this. And, with all my British predilections,
I suspect I shall, whenever that question shall present itself, resist
as strongly an alliance with Great Britain, as with any other power.
We are sent here to attend to the preservation of the peace of this
country, and not to be ready, on all occasions, to go to war, whenever
any thing like what, in common parlance, is termed a turn up, takes
place in Europe.
" What, sir, is our condition ? We are absolutely combatting
shadows. The gentleman would have us to believe his resolution is
all but nothing ; yet, again, it is to prove omnipotent, and fill the
whole globe with its influence. Either it is nothing, or it is some
thing. If it be nothing, let it return to its original nothingness ;
let us lay it on the table, and have done with it at once ; but, if it is
that something, which it has been on the other hand represented to
be, let us beware how we touch it. For my part, I would sooner put
the shirt of Nessus on ray back than sanction these doctrines — doc
trines such as I never heard from my boyhood till now. They go
the whole length. If they prevail, there are no longer any Pyre
nees ;' every bulwark and barrier of the Constitution is broken down ;
it is become tabula rasa, a carte blanche, for every one to scribble on
it what he pleases."
The resolutions were laid on the table, never afterwards to ba
called up.

INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS, 201
CHAPTEE XXIII.
INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS,
Immediately after the close of the foregoing debate, within a few days,
there followed a discussion on an appropriation to defray the expenses of
a survey of the country, with reference to an extended and connected
scheme of roads and canals. But two years previous. May, 1822, Mr
Monroe had demonstrated, in the most elaborate manner, the unconsti
tutionality of any system of internal improvement by the Federal Gov
ernment. Having duly considered the bill, entitled " An act for the
preservation and repair of the Cumberland Eoad," he returned it
to the House of Eepresentatives, in which it originated, under the
conviction that Congress did not possess the power, under the Con
stitution, to pass such a law,
A power to establish turnpikes, with gates and tolls, and to enforce
the collection of the tolls by penalties, implies a power to adopt
and execute a complete system of internal improvement, Mr, Mon
roe contended that Congress- did not possess this power — that the
States individually could not grant it. If the power exist, it must
be either because it has been specifically granted to the United States,
or that it is incidental to some power which has been specifically
granted. It has never been contended that the power was specifi
cally granted. It is claimed only as being incidental to some one or
more of the powers that are specifically granted.
The following are the powers frora which it is said to be derived :
1st Frora the right to establish post-offices and post-roads. 2d. From
the right to declare war. 3d. To regulate commerce. 4th. To pay
the debts, and provide for the common defence and general welfare.
Sth. From the power to make all laws necessary and proper for car
rying into execution all the powers vested by the Constitution in the
Government of the United States. 6th. From the power to dispose
of, and make all needful rules and regulations respecting the territory
and other property of the United States.
Mr. Monroe took up the power thus claimed, and by a raost
extended and elaborate review of the history and the principles
VOL, II. 9*

202 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH. \
of the Constitution, demonstrated that it could not be derived
from either of those powers specified, nor from all of thera united,
and that in consequence it did not exist.
These views, so distinct and unequivocal, were set forth by Mr.
Monroe on the 4th of May, 1822, in a special message, addressed to
Congress. In Deceraber, 1823, a bill was introduced into the House
of Eepresentatives, by which the President of the United States was
authorized to cause the necessary surveys, plans, and estimates to
be made, of the routes of such roads and canals as he raay deem of
national importance, in a commercial or military point of view, or
necessary for the transportation of the public mail. This bill, it was
understood, contemplated a scheme of internal improvement on the
most extended scale ; as such, it was discussed and voted upon.
The debate was long, and was ably conducted. Mr. Clay, as usual,
was the great champion of this as of all the other brilliant schemes
of the day. It was natural, therefore, that he and Eandolph should
come in collision on all occasions. The one was the bold leader of a
new school of politicians, sprung up out of the ruins of the old Ham
iltonian dynasty, who by interpolation or construction made the Con
stitution mean any thing and every thing their ardent minds chose
to aspire to. The other was the clear-sighted, consistent, and up
right statesman, that stood by the old landraa,rks of republicanism,
as they were laid down by the fathers of the faith ; and never could
be induced to depart from them by the hope of reward or the fear
of denunciation. They were the Lucifer and the Michael of contend
ing hosts : " Now waved their fiery swords, and in the air
Made horrid circles : two broad suns their shields
Blaz'd opposite, while expectation stood
Jn horror ; from each hand with speed retir'd
Where erst was thickest fight, the angelic throng,
And left large field ; unsafe within the wind
Of such commotion."
Or Eandolph, rather, was the faithful Abdiel —
" Nor number, nor example with him wrought
To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind,
Though single. From amidst them forth he passed.
And with retorted scorn his back he turned
On tliose proud towers to swift destruction doomed."

INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS. 203
Mr. Eandolph, on the 3 Ist of January, 1824, delivered his senti
ments at large on the bill. The reader must here also be content
with a few paragraphs :
" During no very short oourse of public life," said Mr. E., " I do
not know that it has ever been my fortune to rise under as much em
barrassment, or to address the House with as much repugnance as
I now feel. That repugnance, in part, grows out of the necessity that
exists for my taking some notice, in the course of my observations,
of the arguraent, if arguraent it may be called, of an honorable mem
ber of this House, frora Kentucky. And, although I have not the
honor to know, personally, or even by name, a large portion of the
members of this House, it is not necessary for me to indicate the
cause of that repugnance. But this I may venture to promise the
committee, that, in my notice ef the argument of that member, I
shall show, at least, as much deference to it, as he showed to the
message of the President of the United States of America, on re
turning a bill of a nature analogous to that now before us — I eay at
least as much; I should regret if not more. With the arguraent of
the President, however, I have nothing to do. I wash my hands of
it, and will leave it to the triumph, the clemency, the mercy of the
honorable gentleman of Kentucky — if, indeed, to use his own lan
guage, amid the mass of words in which it is enveloped, he has been
able to find it. My purpose in regard to the argument of the gen
tleman from Kentucky is, to show that it lies in the compass of a
nut-shell ; that it turns on the meaning of one of the plainest words
in the English language. I am happy to be able to agree with that
gentleman in at least one particular, to wit : in the estimate the gen
tleraan has formed of his own powers as a gramraarian, philologer,
and critic ; particularly as those powers have been displayed in the
dissertation with which he has favored the committee on the inter
pretation of the word establish.
" ' Congress,' says the Constitution, ' shall have power to establish
(ergo, says the gentleman. Congress shall have power to construct)
post-roads.' " One would suppose, that, if any thing could be considered as
settled, by precedent in legislation, the meaning of the words of the
Constitution must, before this tirae, have been settled, by the uniform
sense in which that power has been exercised, from the commence
ment of the Government to the present time. What is the fact ?
Your statute-book is loaded with acts for the ' establishment' of post-
roads, and the post-master general is deluged with petitions for the
' establishment' of post-offices ; and yet, we are now gravely debating
on what the word ' establish' shall be held to mean ! A curious pre
dicament we are placed in : precisely the reverse of that of Molicre's

204 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
citizen turned gentleman, who discovered, to his great surprise, that
he had been talking ' prose' all his life long without knowing it. , A
common case. It is just so with all prosers, and I hope I may not
exemplify it in this instance. But, sir, we have been for five and
thirty years establishing post-roads, under the delusion that we were
exercising a power specially conferred upon us by the Constitution,
while we were, according to the suggestion of the gentleman from
Kentucky, actually committing treason, by refusing, for so long a
time, to carry into effect that very article of the Constitution 1
" To forbear the exercise of a power vested in us for the public
good, not merely for our own aggrandizement, is. according to the
argument of the gentleman from Kentucky, treachery to the Consti
tution ! I, then, sir, must have commenced my public life in trea
son, and in treason am I doomed to end it. One of the first votes
that I ever had the honor to give, in this House, was a vote againsti
the establishme}it, if gentlemen please, of a uniform system of bank
ruptcy — a power as unquestionably given to Congress, by the Consti
tution, as the power to lay a direct tax. But, sir, my treason did
not end there. About two years after the establishment of this uni
form systera of bankruptcy, I was particeps criminis, with almost
the unanimous voice of this House, in committing another act of
treachery in repealing it ; and Mr, Jefferson, the President of the
United States, in the commencement of his career, consummated the
treason by putting his signature to the act of repeal,
" Miserable, indeed, would be the condition of every free people,
if, in expounding the charter of their liberties, it were necessary to go
back to the Anglo-Saxon, to Junius and Skinner, and other black-
letter etymologists. Not, sir, that I am very skilful in language :
although I have learned from a certain curate of Brentford, whose
name will survive when the whole contemporaneous bench of Bishops
shall be buried in oblivion, that words — the counters of wise raen,
the money of fools — that it is by the dexterous cutting and shuffling
of this pack, that is derived one-half of the chicanery, and much
more than one-half of the profits of the most lucrative profession in
the world — and, sir, by this dexterous exchanging and substituting:
of words, we shall not be the first nation in the world which has
been cajoled, ii we are to be cajoled, out of our rights and liberties.
" In the course of the observations which the gentleman from
Kentucky saw fit to submit to the committee, were sorae pathetic
ejaculations on the subject of the sufferings of our brethren of the
"West. Sir, our brethren of the West have suffered, as our brethren
throughout the United States, from the same cause, although with
them the cause exists in an aggravated degree, from the acts of those
to whom they have confided the power of legislation ; by a departure —
and we have all suffered from it — I hope no gentleman will under-

INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS. 205
stand me, as wishing to make any invidious comparison between dif
ferent quarters of our country, by a departure from the industry, the
simplicity, the economy, and the frugality of our ancestors. They
have suffered from a greediness of gain, that has grasped at the sha
dow while it has lost the substance — from habits of indolence, of pro
fusion, of extravagance — ^from an aping of foreign manners and of
foreign fashions — from a miserable attempt at the shabby genteel,
which only serve to make our poverty more conspicuous. The way to
remedy this state of suffering, is, to return to those habits of labor
and industry, from which we have thus departed.
" With these few remarks," continued Mr. E., "permit me now to
recall the attention of the committee to the original design of this
Government. It grew out of the necessity, indispensable and un
avoidable, in the circumstances of this country, of some general
power, capable of regulating foreign commerce. Sir,. I am old
enough to remember the origin of this Government ; and, though I
was too young to participate in the transactions of the day, I have a
perfect recollection of what was public sentiment on the subject.
And I repeat, without fear of contradiction, that the proximate, as
well as the remote cause of the existence of the federal government,
was the regulation of foreign commerce. Not to particularize all the
difficulties which grew out of the conflicting laws of the States, Mr.
R. referred to but one, arising from Virginia taxing an article
which Maryland then made duty-free ; and to that very policy, may
be attributed, in a great degree, the rapid growth and prosperity of
the town of Baltimore. If the old Congress had possessed the power
of laying a duty of ten per cent, ad valorem on imports, this Consti
tution would never have been called into existence.
" But we are told that, along with the regulation of foreign com
merce, the States have yielded to the General Government, in as
broad terms, the regulation of domestic commerce — I mean the com
merce among the several States — and that the same power is possessed
by Congress over the one as over the other. It is rather unfortunate
for this argument, that, if it applies to the extent to which the power
to regulate foreign commerce has been carried by Congress, they
may prohibit altogether this domestic commerce, as they have here
tofore, under the other power, prohibited foreign commerce.
" But why put extreme cases ? This Government cannot go on
one day without a mutual understanding and deference between the
State and General Governments. This Government is the breath of
the nostrils of the States. Gentlemen may say what they please of
the preamble to the Constitution ; but this Constitution is not th<
work of the amalgamated population of the then existing confede
racy, but the offspring of the States ; and however high we may
carry our heads and strut and fret our hour ' dressed in a little brief

206 LIFE OP JOHN RANDOLPH.
authority,' it is in tne power of the States to extinguish this Govera-
ment at a blow. They have only to refuse to send members to the
other branch of the legislature, or to appoint electors of President
and Vice-President, and the thing is done. Gentlemen will not un
derstand rae as seeking for reflections of this kind ; but, like Fal-
staff's rebellion — I mean Worcester's rebellion — they lay in my way
and I found them."
" I remember to have heard it said elsewhere," said Mr. E., " that
when gentlemen talk of precedent, they forget they were not in West
minster Hall. Whatever trespass I raay be guilty of upon the atten
tion of the Committee, one thing I will proraise thera, and will faith
fully perform my promise. I will dole out to them no political meta
physics. Sir, I unlearned metaphysics almost as early as Fontenelle,
and he tells us, I think, it was at nine years old. I shall say nothing
about that word municipal. I ara almost as sick of it as honest Fal
staff was of ' security ;' it has been like ratsbane in my mouth, ever
since the late ruler in France took shelter under that word to pocket
our money and incarcerate our persons, with the most profound
respect for our 'neu.tral rights. I have done with the word municipal
ever since that day. Let us come to the plain comraon sense con
struction of the Constitution. Sir, we live under a government of a
peculiar structure, to which the doctrines of the European writers on
civil polity do not apply ; and when gentleraen get up and quote
Vattel as applicable to the powers of the Constitution of the United
States, I should as soon have expected them to quote Aristotle or the
Koran. Our Government is not like the consolidated monarchies of
the old world. It is a solar system ; an imperium in imjxrio ; and
when the question is about the one or the other, what belong to the
itnperiwm and what to the imperio, we gain nothing by referring to
Vattel. He treats of an integral government — a compact structure,
totus teres atque rotundus. But ours is a systera composed of two dis
tinct governments ; the one general in its nature, the other internal.
Now, sir, a government may he admirable for external, and yet exe
crable for internal purposes. And when the question of power in the
governraent arises, this is the problera which every honest man has
to work The powers of government are divided in our system be
tween the General and State Governments, except such powers which
the people have very wisely retained to themselves. With these
exceptions, all the power is divided between the two Governments.
The given power will not lie unless, as in the case of direct taxes,
the power is specifically given ; and even then the State has a con
current power. The question for every honest man to ask himself
is, to which of these two divisions of government does the power in
contest belong ? This is the problem we have to settle : Does this-
power of internal improvement belong to the General or to the Stater

INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS. 207
Governments, or is it a concurrent power ? Gentlemen say we have, by
the Constitution, power to establish post-roads ; and, having established
post-roads, we should be much obliged to you to allow us therefore the
power to construct roads and canals into the bargain. If I had the phy
sical strength, sir, I could easily demonstrate to the committee that,
supposing the power to exist on our part, of all the powers that can be
exercised by this House, there is no power that would be raore sus
ceptible of abuse than this very power. Figure to yourself a corarait
tee of this House deterraining on sorae road, and giving out the con
tracts to the members of both Houses of Congress, or to their friends,
&c. Sir, if I had strength, I could show to this committee that the
Asiatic plunder of Leadenhall-street has not been more corrupting
to the British Government than the exercise of sucji a pc wer as this
would prove to us.
" I said," continued Mr. E., "that this Government, if put -,o the
test — a test it is by no means calculated to endure — as a government
for the management of the internal concerns of this country, is one
of the worst that can be conceived, which is determined by the fact
that it is a government not having a common feeling and common
interest with the governed. I know that we are told — and it is the
first time the doctrine has been openly avowed — that upon the res
ponsibility of this House to the people, by means of the elective fran
chise, depends all the security of the people of the United States
against the abuse of the powers of this Government.
" But, sir, how shall a man from Mackinaw, or the Yellow Stone
Eiver, respond to the sentiraents of the people who live in New Harap-
shire ? It is as great a raockery — a greater raockery than it was to
talk to these colonies about their virtual representation in the Bri
tish Parliaraent. I have no hesitation in saying that the liberties of
the colonies were safer in the custody of the British Parliament than
they will be in any portion of this country, if all the powers of the
States, as well as of the General Governraent, are devolved on this
House ; and in this opinion I am borne out, and more than borne out,
by the authority of Patrick Henry himself
" It is not a matter of conjecture merely, but of fact, of notoriety,
that there does exist on this subject an honest difference of opinion
araong enlightened raen ; that not one or two, but many States in
the Union see, with great concern and alarra, the encroachments of
the General Government on their authority. They feel that they
have given up the power of the sword and the purse, and enabled
men, with the purse in one hand and the sword in the other, to
rifie them of all they hold dear." . ..." We now begin to per
ceive what we have surrendered ; that, having given up the power of
the purse and the sword, every thing else is at the mercy and for
bearance of the General Governraent We did believe there were

208 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
sorae parchraent barriers — no ! what is worth all the parchment
barriers in the world — that there was, in the powers of the States,
some counterpoise to the power of this body ; but, if this bill passes,
we can believe so no longer."
" There is one other power," said Mr. E., " which may be exercised,
in case the power now contended for be conceded, to which I ask the
attention of every gentleman who happens to stand in the same un
fortunate predicament with myself — of every man who has the rais
fortune to be, and to have been born, a slaveholder. If Congress
possess the power to do what is proposed by this bill, they may not
only enact a sedition law — for there is precedent — but they may
emancipate every slave in the United States, and with stronger
color of reason than they can exercise the power now contended for.
And where will they find the power ? They raay follow the example
of the gentlemen who have preceded me, and hook the power upon
the first loop they find in the Constitution. They might take the
preamble, perhaps the war-making power, or they might take a
greater sweep, and say, with some gentleraen, that it is not to be
found in this or that of the granted powers, but results from all of
thera, which is not only a dangerous, bnt the 'most dangerous doctrine.
Is it not deraonstrable that slave labor is the dearest in the world,
and that the existence of a large body of slaves is a source of danger ?
Suppose we are at war with a foreign power, and freedom should be
offered them by Congress, as an inducement to them to take a part in
it ; or, suppose the country not at war, at every turn of this federal
machine, at every successive census, that interest will find itself
governed by another and increasing power, which is bound to it
neither by any comraon tie of interest or feeling. And if ever the
time shall arrive, as assuredly it has arrived elsewhere, and, in all
probability, may arrive here, that a coalition of knavery and fanati
cism shall, for any purpose, be got up on this floor, I ask gentleraen
who stand in the sarae predicament as I do, to look well to what
they are now doing, to the colossal power with which they are now
arming this Governraent. The power to do' what I allude to is, I
aver, raore honestly inferable from the war-making power than the
power we are now about to exercise. Let them look forward to the
time when such a question shall arise, and tremble with me at the
thought that that question is to be decided by a majority of the
votes of this House, of whora not one possesses the slightest tie of
coramon interest or of common feeling with us."
The debate on this important question was kept up ten days
longer. On the 10th of February, Mr. Eandolph moved that the
bill be indefinitely postponed. The motion was overruled, and the
till was passed by a majority of 1 15 to 86. So soon as the vote was

SUPREME COURT. 209
announced, it was moved that the House go into committee of the
whole on the state of the Union, with a view of taking up the bill for
a revision of the tariff. Mr. Eandolph exclaimed, " Sufficient for the
day is the evil thereof," and hoped that the House would do no such
thing ; they, however, did go into eomraittee, and made some pro
gress in the bill.
The measure above adopted by the House, was sanctioned by the
President, thus furnishing another instance of a most extraordinary
and flagrant abandonment of first principles, on a vital point of the
Constitution. Mr. Madison's arguments as to the unconstitution
ality of the Bank, stand unanswered and unanswerable ; yet, in
1816, Mr. Madison, under the pressure of circumstances, the plea of
necessity, and the force of precedent, signed the Bank bill.
No man argued more clearly and conclusively than Mr. Monroe
the unconstitutionality of a system of internal improveraent; yet,
under the influence of a yielding complacency, that was .reluctant to
oppose the encroaching spirit of the times, he sanctioned a measure
that adopted the systera in its broadest sense, and swept away every
barrier of the Constitution.

CHAPTEE XXIV.
SUPREME COURT — DULL DINNER — HUDDLESFORD'S OAK.
About the time the Eoads and Canals bill was discussed in the House,
a case was argued before the Supreme Court, involving tho same prin
ciples. Aaron Ogden, under several acts of the Legislature of the
State of New- York, claimed the exclusive navigation of all the waters
within the jurisdiction of the State, with boats moved by fire or
steam. Gibbons employed two steamboats in running between Eliz
abethtown, New Jersey, and New- York, in violation of the exclusive
privilege. He was enjoined by the Chancellor of New-York, and
in his answers stated, that the boats were enrolled and licensed, to be
employed in carrying on the coasting trade, under the acts of Con-

210 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
gress — and insisted on his right, in virtue of such licenses, to navi
gate the waters between Elizabethtown and the city of New- York,
the acts of the legislature of the State of New- York to the contrary
notwithstanding. The question was, whether the laws of Congress, passed in virtue
of the clause of the Constitution which confers on them the power
to regulate commerce among the several States, shall con-jravene and
supersede the laws of New-York, granting a monopoly to certain indi
viduals to navigate steam vessels on the waters within the jurisdic
tion of that State. '
The whole controversy turned on the interpretation of this clause
of the Constitution — " Congress shall have power to regulate com
merce with foreign nations, and among the several States, and with
the Indian tribes.''
The Chief Justice, to arrive at his conclusions, took the broadest
latitude of construction. " It has been said, argues he, that these
powers" (powers enumerated in the Constitution) " ought to be con
strued strictly. But why ought they to be so construed ? Is there
one sentence in the Constitution which gives countenance to this
rule ? In the last of the enumerated powers, that which grants ex
pressly the means for carrying all others into execution. Congress is
authorized ' to make all laws which shall be necessary and proper' for
the purpose." With this broad principle as his rule of construction,
he then goes on to argue that the power to regulate comraerce with
foreign nations, is full and absolute — and that it embraces the right
to regulate navigation. The next step is to prove that the power to
regulate comraerce among the States is as broad and comprehensive
as the power to regulate it with foreign nations. " Comraerce among
the States," says he, " cannot stop at the external boundary line of
each State, but may be introduced into the interior."  "The
genius and character of the whole Governraent seem to be, that its
action is to be applied to all the external concerns of the nation, and
to those internal concerns which affect the States generally." . . .
" Commerce among the States must, of necessity, be commerce
with the States. In the regulation of trade with the Indian tribes,
the action of the law, especially when the Constitution was made,
was chiefly within a State. The power of Congress, then, whatever
it may be, must be exercised within the territorial jurisdiction of the

SUPREME COURT. 211
several States." . . . . " This power, like all others vested in Con
gress, is complete in itself, may be exercised to its utmost extent, and
acknowledges no limitations, other than are prescribed in the Consti
tution."  " The power of Congress, then, comprehends navi
gation within the limits of every State in the Union, so far as
that navigation may be, in any manner, connected with ' commerce
with foreign nations, or among the several States, or with the Indian
tribes.' "
He goes on to apply these principles — self evident axioms ub he
called thera — to the case before the Court, and decided against the
exclusive privilege of navigation granted by the laws and sustained
by the Judiciary of New- York.
In conclusion, the Chief Justice says : " Powerful and ingenious
minds, taking, as postulates, that the powers expressly granted to the
governraent of the Union, are to be contracted by construction into the
narrowest possible compass, and that the original powers of the States
are retained, if any possible construction will retain them, may, by a
course of well-digested, but refined and raetaphysical reasoning, found
ed on these premises, explain away the Constitution of our country,
and leave it, a magnificent structure indeed to look at, but totally
unfit for use."
But the Chief Justice did not perceive, that, by pursuing the
oroad doctrines laid down by him, the several departments of gov
ernment, especially the one over which he presided — the Judiciary,
whose business it is to construe and interpret — raight, step by step,
absorb all the powers reserved to the States, and to the people, and
make the government a magnificent structure indeed, not merely to
look at, but one wielding all the concentrated powers of a consoli
dated empire. The true rule is to go neither to the one extreme nor to
the other, but to give to each and to all that which rightfully belongs
to thera. This opinion of the Chief Justice gave great urabrage to the
States-rights men. They said he travelled out of the record, to
make an elaborate argument in behalf of those principles which wore
then urged in Congress as a justification of a general system of in
ternal improveraent among the States.
Mr. Eandolph says to Dr. Brockenbrough, the 3d of March :
" The Chief Justice yesterday delivered a most able opinion in the

212 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
great New- York steamboat case, fatal to the monopoly. It is said that
he decided in favor of the power of the General Government to make
internal improvements, but I don't believe it He is too wise a
man to decide any point not before his court." No man admired,
Marshall more than John Eandolph ; he held him up, as the reader
knows, as a model to the young — to the world ; but he did not let
his partiality for the man blind his judgment as to the dangerous
doctrines of the Judge. When he had read " the opinion," he says :'
" It is the fashion to praise the Chief Justice's opinion in the case of
Ogden against Gibbons. But. you know I am not a fashionable raan;
I think it is unworthy of him. Lord Liverpool has set him an ex
ample of jaution in the last speech of the king : one that shames our'
gasconading message. I said it was too long before I read it. It
contains a great deal that has no business there, or indeed any where.
Mr. Webster's phrase, ' unit,' which he adopts, is a conceit (concetto),
and a very poor one, borrowed from Dr. Eush, who with equal reason
pronounced disease to be a unit Now, as this tlieory of the Doctor
had no effect whatever upon his practice, and that alone could affect his^
patients, it was so far a harmless maggot of the brain. But when
that theory was imbibed at a single gulp by his young disciples,
who were sent out annually frora Philadelphia, it becarae the raeans
of death not to units, or tens, or hundreds, but thousands, and tens
of thousands. " A judicial opinion should decide nothing and embrace nothing
that is not before the court. If he had said that ' a vessel, having the
legal evidence that she has conformed to the regulations which Con
gress has seen fit to prescribe, has the right to go from a port of any
State to a port of any other with freight or in quest of it, with passen
gers or in quest of them, non obstante such a law as that of the State
of New-York under which the appellee claims,' I should have been
satisfied. " However, since the case of Cohen vs. Virginia, I -.im done with
th? Supreme Court No one admires more than I do the extraordi
nary powers of Marshall's mind ; no one respects raore his araiable
deportment in private life. He is the most unpretending and unas
suming of men. His abilities and his virtues render him an orna
ment not only to Virginia, but to our nature. I cannot, however,'
help thinking, that he was toq long at the bar before he ascended the
bench ; and that, like our friend T  , he had injured, by the indis
criminate defence of right or wrong, the tone of his perception (if you
will allow so quaint a phrase) of truth or falsehood."
John Marshall was, " after the most straitest sect," a Federal
ist of the Hamilton school. The reader, doubtless, well remembers
his attempt to play at the game of Diplomacy with Talleyrand, and

SUPREME COURT. 213
the figure ho cut in the X. Y. Z. business. Soon after his return to
the United States he was elected a member of Congress, from the
Eichmond District, in the spring of 1799, after a most violent and
bitter contest, beating John Clopton, the old republican representa
tive. Mr. Adams, in 1800, removed Timothy Pickering from the
head of his cabinet, and put General Marshall in his place ; and in
1801, as one of the last acts of his administration, raade him Chief
Justice of the United States.
The man of great parts and of upright principles will perform
justly and nobly the duties of whatever station he raay be placed in.
This raaxim was well illustrated by Judge Marshall. As a partisan
leader he was bold, fearless, uncompromising, and devoted to the
principles of the cause he espoused. When elevated to the Bench
he rose serenely above all party influences, and became the enlight
ened, wise, and upright Judge. But it is very clear, that wherever
the powers of the Federal Government were concerned, he could not
rise above those doctrines which had been so thoroughly inculcated
on his mind. His federal principles, by long practice and thorough
digestion, had so completely become a part of his raental systera as
to be a law of thought on all questions of constitutional interpreta.
tion. The tendency of the Suprerae Court is now to the opposite
extreme. The systera of judicial reasoning, like all other moral sys
tems built on the laws of the human mind, and not the principles of an
exact science, revolves in a cycle ; and in a series of years, will find
itself occupying in regular succession the same positions which it had
held at some former period. The mind progresses, but it is in a circle.
On the 20th of March, Mr. Eandolph writes to his friend :
"Mr. King of N. Y., his colleague, Mr. Chief Justice, Tazewell.
and some three or four more dine with me to-morrow, so that I shall
have good company, at least, if not a good dinner." Two days after,
he says : " Mr. Chief Justice, Tazewell, Van Buren, Benton, Morgan,
of N. Y., and George Calvert, dined with me yesterday (Mr. King
was sick, of his late freak in the Senate, I shrewdly suspect) ; and
your ' fat sail-ion party' was hardly more dull than we were. The
Chief Justice has no longer the power ' d'etre vif ' Tazewell took to
prosing at the far end of the table to two or three, who forraed a sort
sf separate coterie ; V, B. was unwell, and out of spirits ; and I was
obliged to get nearly or quite drunk, to keep them from yawning
outright."

214 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Mr. Eandolph was informed, about this time, that Miss Eoane,
the daughter of the late Judge Spencer Eoane, was expected to visit
Washington. " If Miss Eoane," says he, " should honor our metropolis with her
presence, I shall make it a point to call upon her — if for no other
cause, from the very high respect in which I held her father whilst
living, and hold his memory, being dead. I consider him as a great
loss to his country, not only in his judicial character, but as a
statesman, who formed a rallying point for the friends of State-rights.
Besides, he had the judgraent to perceive, and the candor to acknow
ledge, the consistency of my public conduct with my avowed princi
ples ; and he had too much greatness of mind to lend hiraself to the
long and bitter persecution with which I was assailed by two govern
ments, by the press, by a triumphant party (raany of whom were old
sedition law federalists), until, Sertorius like, after having waged
a long war upon my own resources, I was vanquished as rauch by
treachery in ray own camp, as by the courage or the conduct of the
eneray. My hopes (plans, I never had any) have been all blasted,
and here I ara, like Huddlesford's oak,
" 'Thou, who unmoved hast heard the whirlwind chide
Full many a winter, round thy craggy bed,
And like an earth-born giant hast outspread
Thy hundred arms, and Heaven's own bolts defied,
Now liest along thy native mountain's side,
Uptom ! yet deem not that I come to shed
The idle drops of pity o'er thy head,
Or, basely, to insult thy blasted pride.
" ' No, still 'tis thine, though fallen, imperial Oak,
To teach this lesson to the wise and brave —
That 'tis far better, overthro-wn and broke,
In Freedom's cause to sinli into thegrave,
Thau in submission to a tyrant's yoke,
Lilie the vile Reed, to bow and be a slave.'

CHAPTEE XXV.
TARIFF — PROPHECY — LEWIS McLEAN".
The Tariff question, during the spring of 1824, was thoroughly
discussed, and for the first time distinctly recognized and placed on
the footing of a protective policy. We pass over this subject, and

TARIFF. 215
Mr. Eandolph's great speech on its leading principles, for the present
Mr. Eandolph, however, watched the bill in all its stages, and opposed
many of its most objectionable parts in the incipient stage. Some of
his best speeches are those short, comprehensive, and pithy discourses
delivered on the spur of the occasion, on some isolated point under
discussion. On the motion to reduce the duties on coarse woollens,
Mr. Eandolph said : —
" I am surprised that the votaries of humanity — persons who can
not sleep, such is their distress of mind at the very existence of negro
slavery — should persislfin pressing a measure, the effect of which is
to aggravate the misery of that unhappy condition, whether viewed in
reference to the slaye, or to his raaster, if he be a man possessing a
spark of humanity ; for what can be more pitiable than the situation
of a man who has every desire to clothe his negroes comfortably, but
who is absolutely prohibited from so doing by legislative enactment ?
I hope that none of those who wish to enhance to the poor slave (or
what is the same thing — to his master) the price of his annual blan
ket, and of his sordid suit of coarse, but, to him, comfortable woollen
cloth, will ever travel through the southern country to spy out the
nakedness, if not of the land, of the cultivators of the soil. It is no
torious that the profits of slave labor have been, for a long time, on
the decrease ; and that, on a fair average, it scarcely reimburses the
expense of the slave, including the helpless ones, whether from infancy
or age. The words of Patrick Henry, in the Convention of Virginia,
still ring in my ears : ' They may liberate every one of your slaves.
The Congress possess the power, and will exercise it' Now, sir, the
first step towards this consummation, so devoutly wished by many, is
to pass such laws as may yet still further diminish the pittance which
their labor yields to their unfortunate masters, to produce such a
state of things as will insure, in case the slave shall not elope frora
his raaster, that his master will run away from him. Sir, the blindness,
as it appears to me — I hope gentlemen will pardon the expression —
with which a certain quarter of this country — I allude particularly to
the seaboard of South Carolina and Georgia — has lent its aid to in
crease the powers of the general government on points, to say the least,
of doubtful construction, fills me with astonishment and dismay. And
I look forward, almost without a ray of hope, to the time which the
next census, or that which succeeds it, will assuredly bring forth,
when this work, of destruction and devastation is to coraraence in the
abused name of humanity and religion, and when the imploring eyes
of some will be, as now, turned towards another body, in the vain
hope that it may arrest the evil, and stay the plague."
April 12, Mr. Eandolph said : " If the House would lend me its

216 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
attention five minutes, I think I can demonstrate that the argument
of the gentleman from Delaware in favor of the increased duty on
brown sugar, is one of the most suicidal arguments that ever reared
its spectral front in a deliberative assembly.
" The gentleman objects to reducing the duty on sugar, because
it will dirainish the revenue, which he says we cannot dispense with,
and yet he wishes to continue it as a bounty of $3 per 100 lbs. (not
the long hundred of 1 12 lbs.), until the sugar planting and sugar ma
nufacture should be extended, so as to supply the whole deraand of
our consumption. Then what becomes of the revenue frora sugar,
that we cannot dispense- with ? This is what I call a fuicidal argu
ment, it destroys itself •
Mr. McLean, at the commencement of his reply, appearing to
be much irritated, Mr. EaAdolph rose and assured him that he in
tended not the slightest disrespect or offence — but Mr. McLean
went on to say that the gentleman frora Virginia had displayed a
good head, but he would not accept that gentleraan's head, to be
obliged to have his heart along with it.
Mr. Eandolph replied :
"It costs me nothing, sir, to say that I very much regret
that the zeal which I have not only felt, but cherished, on the sub
ject of laying taxes in a raanner which, in ray judgment, is incon
sistent, not merely with. the spirit, but the very letter of the Constitu
tion, should have given to my remarks, on this subject, a pungency,
which has rendered them disagreeable, and even oS"ensive to the gen
tleman from Delaware. For that gentleman I have never expressed
any other sentiment but respect — I have never uttered, or entertain
ed, an unkind feeling towards that gentleman, either in this House
or elsewhere, nor do I now feel any such sentiraent towards him. I
never pressed my regard upon hira — I press it upon no raan. He
appears to have considered my remarks as having a personal applica
tion to himself I certainly did not intend to give them that direc
tion, and I think that my prompt disclaimer of any such intention
ought to have disarmed his resentment, however justly it may have
been excited. He has been pleased, sir, to say something, which,
no doubt, he thinks very severe, about my head and my heart.
" How easy, sir, would it be for me to reverse the gentleman's
proposition, and to retort upon him, that I would not, in return, take
that gentleraan's heart, however good it may be, if obliged to take
such a head into the bargain.
" But, sir, I do not think this — I never thought it — and, there
fore, I cannot be so ungenerous as to say it : for, Mr. Speaker, who
made me a searcher of hearts ? of the heart of a fellow-man, a fellow-

TARIFF. 217
smner 1 Sir, this is an awful subject 1 better suited to Friday or
Sunday next (Good Friday and Easter Sunday), two of the moat
solemn days in the Christian calendar — ^when I hope we shall all Con
sider it, and lay it to heart as we ought to do.
" But, sir, I must still raaintain that the arguraent of the gentle
man is suicidal — he has fairly worked the equation, and one-half of
his argument is a coraplete and conclusive answer to the other. And,
sir, if I should ever be so unfortunate as, through inadvertence, or
the heat of debate, to fall into such an error, I should, so far from
being offended, feel myself under obligation to any gentleman who
would expose its fallj,cy, even by ridicule — as fair a weap xi as any
in the whole Parliamentary armory. I shall not go so far as to
maintain, with my Lord Shaftesbury, that it is the unerring test of
truth, whatever it may be of temper ; but if it be proscribed as a
weapon as unfair as it is confessedly powerful, what shall we say (I
put it, sir, to you and to the House) to the poisoned arrow ? — to the
tomahawk and the scalping-knife? Would the raost unsparing use
of ridicule justify a resort to these weapons ? Was this a reason
that the gentleman sould sit in judgraent on ray heart ? — ^yes, sir,
my heart — which the gentleman (whatever he raay say) in his heart
believes to be a frank heart, as I trust it is a brave heart. Sir, I
dismiss the gentleman to his self-complacency — let him go — ^yes, sir,
let him go, and thank his God that he is not as this publican."
This is the finest retort of the kind to be found in the English lan
guage. Its admirable style and temper cannot be too strongly
recommended to those who in the heat of debate may be tempted to
eay severe and irritating fhings. This is a model for them to follow :
" A soft answer turneth aw&y wrath." Mr. Eandolph's conduct on
this occasion was looked upon with admiration by all gentlemen.
" Mr. King, of New- York," says he to a friend, " came to me yes
terday, and said that ' all the Georgetown mess were loud in their
praises of my reception of McLean of Delaware's attack upon me on
Monday (the day before yesterday), the 12th; that the Patroon (Van
Eensselaer) was delighted,' &c., &c., &c. Tattnall of Georgia (a preux
chevalier), told Mr. Macon that nothing could be more dignified or
gentlemanly than my reply, and that it was just what it ought to
have been. Many others tell me that this is the general sentiment."
Mr. Eandolph frequently expressed to his friends his surprise at
this attack upon him, and could not conceive the motive. He had a
true regard for the gentleman from Delaware, though he might not
have been aware of it; he pressed his regard upon no man. As far
back as 1820, when Mr. McLean first took his seat in Congress, Mr.
VOL. n. 10

218 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Eandolph, with characteristic accuracy and penetration, had described
him to a friend, his origin and history, and that of his family, and
concluded by saying, '' He is the finest fellow I have seen here, by a
double distance."
Mr Eandolph watched the tariff bill in all its stages, and resisted
it so long as there was any hope. At length he wrote to a friend :
" I am satisfied (now) that nothing can avail to save us. Indeed
I have long been of that opinion. ' The ship wi]l neither wear nor
stay, and she may go ashore, and be d — d,' as Jack says."
Friday, 25th April, he says :
" The tariff is finished, (in our House at least,) and so am I. I
was sent for on Tuesday in all haste to vote upon it ; when I got
there tl^e previous question was taking, and the clerk reading the
yeas and nays.
" At the end, Gilmore (a fine fellow, by the way, although a
Georgian and a Crawford man) moved for a call of the House. When
that was over, Wilde, from Georgia, moved to amend the title. I, as
big a fool as he, got up to tell him what an ass he was. (By the way,
for ' Smith's verses on the old continental money,' which the reporter
put into my mouth — why or wherefore he only can tell — read what
I actually did say : Swift's verses on the 'motto upon Chief Justice
Whitshed's coach. So, much for reporters. That over, Drayton, of
S. C, who is the Purge of the House, got up to make another motion
to amend. By this time the noisome atmosphere overcarae me, and
L left the hall. Mr. D. ¦ on his legs ; but a copious effusion of blood
from the lungs has been the consequence. It came on in about thirty
minutes after I got home ; so that the debate on the araendment of
the tariff bill has the honor of my coup de grace."
Mr, Eandolph was appointed on the coraraittee to investijgate the
charges of mismanagement brought by Ninian Edwards against the
Secretary of the Treasury. In reference to this subject he writes to
his constituents from on board the ship Nestor, at sea. May 17:
'¦ Fellow'-citizens, friends, and freeholders — A recurrence of the
same painful disease that drove me from my post some two years ago
again corapels me to ask a furlough, for I cannot consent to consider
myself in the light of a deserter, Biit no consideration whatever
would have induced me to leave Washington, so long as a shadow of
doubt hung over the transactions of the Treasury, which I was (among
others) appointed to investigate. * * * * I confess that I was not
without some misgivings that all was not right. Holding myself aloof
from the intrigues and intriguers of Washington, I had remained a

SECOND VOYAGE TO EUROPE. 219
Mssive spectator of a scene such as I hqpe never again to witness.
Not that I was without a slight, a very slight, preference in the
choice of the evils submitted to us for our acceptance. I inclined
towards Mr. Crawford, for some reasons which were private and per
sonal, and with which it is unnecessary to trouble you ; but, chiefly,
because you preferred him to his competitors, and because, if elected,
he would, in a manner, be compelled to throw himself into the hands
of the least unsound of the political parties of the country ; that he
would, by the force of circumstances, be compelled to act with ns (the
people), whilst the rival candidates would, by the same force of cir
cumstances, be obliged to act against us, and with the tribe of office
hunters and bankrupts that seek to subsist upon our industry and
means."

CHAPTEE XXVI.
SECOND VOYAGE TO EUEOPK
Mr. Jacob Harvey, who died in 1848, was an Irishman by birth ;
he emigrsfted some thirty years ago from his native country, and made
the city of New- York the place of his residence. He was a mer
chant by profession, and those who knew him in his business bear tes
timony to his extensive information, his skill and prudence, his integ
rity and liberality. He was a man of refined literary tastes, brilliant
wit, genuine humor, and exquisite delicacy of feeling. These quali
ties rendered him, in the social relations of life, an instructive and
fascinating companion. The acquaintance that commenced between
him and Mr. Eandolph, on his first voyage to Europe, grew into an
unreserved intimacy that lasted to the day of his death. Speaking
of him, in a letter to his niece from London, he says : " His narae
is Jacob Harvey, son of Joseph Massey H., a Limerick mer
chant, attached tb the society of Friends— what is called a gay
Quaker. His grandfather, Eeuben H., was a merchant of Cork, and
during the war of 1776 received a letter under General Washington's
own hand, returning his thanks and those of Congress for his kind
ness to our countrymen in Ireland, prisoners and others. He was
introduced to me by Mr. Colden, as we left the quay."
Having assisted Mr. Eandolph, says Mr. Harvey, in making

220 LIFE OF JOHN EANDOLPH.
his preparations for the voyage, I ^eft him at Bunker's, and promisecl
to call upon him next morning at half past nine o'clock, to accompany
him to the steamboat, which was to convey him to the packet.
I charged him to have all his luggage ready, as the steamboat
was to start precisely at ten o'clock, which he promised to do. Next
morning, punctual to my appointment, I entered his sitting-room, ex
pecting, of course, to find him, cap in hand, ready to walk to White--
hall dock, the moment I appeared. Judge, then, of my utter aston
ishment to see him sitting at the table, in his dressing-gown, with a
large Bible open before him, pen in hand, in the act of writing a let
ter ; while ' John' was on his knees, raost busily employed in empty
ing one trunk and filling another !
" In the name of heaven," said I, " Mr. Eandolph, what is the
matter ? Do you know that it will soon be ten o'clock, and the steam
boat waits for nobody ? You promised me last night to have every
thing packed up and ready when I called, and here you are not even
dressed yet !"
" I cannot help it, sir," replied he ; " I am all confusion this morn
ing ; every thing goes wrong ; even my memory has gone ' a good
wool gathering.' I am just writing a farewell letter to my constitu
ents, and, would you believe it, sir, I have forgotten the exact words
of a quotation from the Bible, which I want to use, and, as I always
quote correctly, I cannot close my letter until I find the passage j
but strange to say, I forget both the chapter and verse. I never waa
at fault before, sir ; what shall I do ?"
" Do you remember any part of the quotation ?" said I, " perhaps
I can assist you with the rest, as time is precious."
" It begins," replied he, " ' How have I loved thee, oh Jacob ;' but
for the life of me, I cannot recollect the next words. Oh my head !
my head f Here, do you take the Bible, and run your eye over that
page, whilst I ara writing tbe remainder of my address."
"My dear sir," said I, " you have not tirae to do this now, but let
us take letter, Bible, and all on board the steamboat, where you will
have ample time to find the passage you want, before we reach the
packet." '
After some hesitation and reluctance, he agreed to my proposi
tion, and then, suddenly turning round, be said, in a sharp tone ;

SECOND VOYAGE TC EUROPE. 221
" Well, sir, I will not take John with me, and you will please get
back his passage-money to-morrow. He must go home, sir."
" Not take John with you !" exclaimed I. " Are you mad ? Do
you forget how much you suffered last voyage for want of John or
Juba, and how repeatedly you declared that you would never again
cross the Atlantic without one of them ? It is folly, and I cannot
consent to it"
" I have decided, sir ; the question is no longer open to discus
sion.'' " At least," said I, " be so good as to give some reason for such a
decision." "Why, sir," replied he, "John has disobliged mu He has been
spoiled by yonr free blacks, and forgets his duty ; and I have no idea
of having to take care of him all the way to Europe and back again !"
Then, turning to poor John, who was completely crest-fallen, he went
on : " Finish that trunk at once, and take it down to the steamboat,
and on your return take your passage in the Philadelphia boat ; and
when you get to Philadelphia, call on Mr.  , in Arch street, and
tell him that I have sailed ; then go on to Baltimore, and call on Mr.
— ¦ — , in Monument Place, and say that I shall write to him from
London ; thence proceed to Washington ; pack up my trunks, which
you will find at my lodgings, and take them with you to Eoanoke,
and report yourself to my overseer.'' After a pause, he added, in a
sarcastic tone, " Now, John, you have heard my commands ; but you
need not obey them, unless you choose to do so. If you prefer it, when
you arrive in Philadelphia, call on the Manumission Society, and they
will make you free, and I shall never look after you. Do you hear,
sir?" This unjust aspersion of John's love was too much for the faith-
fiil fellow ; his chest swelled, his lips quivered, his eyes filled, as he
replied, in much agitation :
" Master John, this is too hard. I don't deserve it. You know
I love you better than every body else, and you know you will find
me at Eoanoke when you come back !"
I felt my blood rising, and said : " Well, Mr. Eandolph, I could
not have believed this had I not seen it I thought you had more
compassion for your slaves. You are positively unjust in this case,
for surely, you have punished him severely enough by leaving him

222 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
behind you, without hurting his feelings. You h'ave made the pool
fellow cry."
" What," said he quickly, " does he shed tears ?" " He does," re
plied I, "and you may see them yourself" " Then," said he, "Ae
shall go with me ! John, take down your baggage, and let us forget
what has passed. I was irritated, sir, and I thank you for the re
buke." Thus ended this curious scene. John instantly brightened up,
soon forgot his mastoids anger, and was on his way to the boat, in a
few minutes, perfectly happy.
Just as the boat was casting off, Eandolph called out to jae—
" Good-by, my friend, and remember, I shall land at the Co\e of
Cork (the dangers of the sea always excepted), and go over to Limer
ick, and spend a day or two at your father's house."
I did not place much dependence upon this hasty promise, and
was, therefore, agreeably surprised, a few weeks afterwards, by re
ceiving a letter from home, informing me that " Eandolph of Eoan
oke" had really paid my family a visit, of which they had not receiv
ed the slightest intimation, until he entered the parlor and introduced
himself He made himself extremely agreeable, and they were very
sorry to part with him the next day.
" Sir," said he, speaking of Ireland, " much as I was prepared to
see misery in the South of Ireland, I was utterly shocked at the con
dition of the poor peasantry between Limerick and Dublin. Why,
sir, John never felt so proud at being a Yirginia slave. He looked
with horror upon the raud hovels and miserable food of the white
sla'ves, ani I had no fear of his running away. The landlords, and
the clergy of the established church, have a fearful account to give,'
some day or other, sir, of the five and ten talents intrusted to them.
I could not keep silence, sir, but every where, in the stage-coaches and
hotels, I expressed my opinions fearlessly. One morning, whilst
breakfasting at Morrison's, in Dublin, I was drawn into an argument
with half a dozen country gentlemen, all violent tories, who seemed
to think that all the evils of Ireland arose from the disloyalty of the
Catholics. I defended the latter, on the ground that they were de
nied their political rights; and I told them very plainly, in the lan
guage of Scripture, that until they ' unmuzzled the ox which treadeth
out the corn,' they must expect insurrections and opposition to the

SECOND VOYAGE TO EUROPE. 223
government. I had no sooner uttered these words than they all en
deavored to silence me by clamor, and one of them insinuated that
I raust be a ' foreign spy.' I stood up at once, sir, and after a pause,
said, ' Can it be possible that I am in the metropolis of Ireland, the
centre of hospitality, or do I dream? Is this the way Irish gentle
men are wont to treat strangers, who happen to express sympathy for
the wrongs of their countrymen? If, gentleraen, you cannot refute
ray arguments, at least do not drown my voice by noisy assertions,
which you do not atterapt to prove. If ever any of you should visit
old Virginia, I shall promise you a fair hearing, at all events ; and
you may compare our system of slavery with yours — aye, and be the
judges yourselves !' Tj^is pointed rebuke had the desired effect ; the
moment they discovered who I was they instantly apologized for their
rudeness, insisted upon my dining with thera ; and never did I spend
a more jovial day. The instant politics were laid aside, all was wit
and repartee, and song. So ended ray first and last debate with a
party of Irish tories."
Of England, he says, " there never was such a country on the face
of the earth, as England ; and it is utterly impossible that there ever
can be any combination of circumstances hereafter, to make such an
other country as old England now is — God bless her ! But in Ire
land," he added, "the Government and the Church, or the Lion- and
the Jackal, have divided the spoils between them, leaving nothing for
poor Pat, but the potatoes. The Marquis of Wellesley, sir, does his
best to lesse*. the miseries of the peasantry, and yet he is abused by
both factions — a pretty good proof that he acts impartially between
them, sir."
Frora England, Mr, Eandolph crossed over into France, From
Paris, he addressed the following letter to his friend. Dr. Brocken
brough : Pahis, July 24, 1824.
This date says every thing, I arrived here on Sunday after
noon, and am now writing frora the Grand Hotel de Castile, rue
Eichelieu and Boulevard des Italiens — ^for, as the French say, it gives
upon both, having an entrance from each,
I need not tell either of you, that it is in the very focus of gayety
and fashion ; and if the maitre d'hotel raay be credited, it is al
ways honored by the residence of " M. le Due de Davuansaire," when
ever his Grace pays a visit to his birthplace. The civilities which,

224 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
through the good offices of my friend, Mr, Foster, were tendered to
me two years ago, from ' Davnansaire House,' and ' Chisonig,' would
render this circumstance a recommendation, if the neatness and com
fort of ray apartments did not supersede all necessity for any other
recommendation. Here, then, am I, where I ought to have been thirty ye^rs ago
— ^and where I would have been, had I not been plundered and op
pressed during my nonage, and left to enter upon life overwhelmed
with a load of DEBT, which the profits of a nineteen years' minority
ought to have more than paid ; and ignorant ts I was (and even yet
am) of business, to grope my way, without a clue, through the laby
rinth of my father's affairs, and brought up among Quakers, an ardent
ami des noirs, to scuffle with negroes and overseers, for soraething like
a pittance of rent and profit upon my land and stock.
" Under such circumstances, that I have not been utterly ruined,
is due (under God) to the spirit I inherited from my parents, and to the
admirable precepts, and yet more adrairable exaraple of ray revered rao
ther — honored and blessed be her memory. Then I had to unravel the
tangled skein of my poor brother's difficulties and debts. His sud
den and untimely death threw upon my care, helpless as I was, his
family, whom I tenderly and passionately loved, and with whom I
might be now living, at Bizarre, if the reunion of his widow with the
 of her husband had not driven me to Eoanoke ; where, but
for my brother's entreaty and forlorn and friendless condition, I
should have remained ; and where I should have obtained a release
from ray bondage raore than twenty years ago. Then I might have
enjoyed my present opportunities ; but time misspent and faculties
misemployed, and senses jaded by labor, or impaired by excess, can
not be recalled any more than that freshness of the heart, before it
has become aware of the deceits of others, and of its own.
" But how do you like Paris ? for all this egotism you might have
poured out from Washington,"
Not in the least. And I stay here only waiting for my letters,
which are  to the return of this day's post frora London. To
you I need not say one word of the Lions of Paris, but will, in a
word, tell you, that crucifixes, and paintings of crucifixions, and
prints of Charlotte Corday and Marie Antoinette, &c., are the fashion
of the day. That the present dynasty," infirmly seated in the saddle ;
and that by little and little every privilege, acquired not by the de
signs of its authors, but by the necessary consequences of such a revo
lution, will be taken from the people ; nay, I ara persuaded that the
lands will be resuraed, or (what is the same thing) an araple equiva
lent will be plundered from the public, to endow the losers with. At
the next session of the deputies, the measure of reimbursing the emi
grants — a measure the very possibility of which was scouted, only

SECOND VOYAGE TO ENGLAND. 225
three years ago. The Marquis de La Fayette had sailed for the
United States about ten days before my arrival here. I am sorry
he has taken the step. It will do no good to his reputation, which
at his tirae of life he ought to nurse. I take it for granted, that
Ned Livingston, or sorae other equally pure patriot, will propose
another donation to him ; the last, I think, was on the motion of Beau
Dawson. I hope I raay be there, to give it just such another recep
tion as M. Figaro had at ray hands. Although it is certainly a species
of madness (and I hear that this malady is iraputed to me) to be
wearing out my strength and spirits, and defending the rights (whe
ther of things or of persons) of a people who lend their co.tntenance
to them that countenance the general plunder of the public, in the
expectation either that they may share in the spoil, or that their
former peculations will not be exarained into.
I consider the present King of France, and his family, to be as
firmly seated on the throne of the Tuilleries, as ever Louis XIV.
was at Versailles ; all possibility of counter-revolution is a raere chi
mera of distempered imagination. It would be just as possible to re
store the state of society and manners which existed in Virginia a
half a century ago ; I should aS soon expect to see the Nelsons, and
Pages, and Byrds, and Fairfaxes, living in their palaces, and driving
their coaches and sixes ; or the good old Virginia gentlemen on the
assembly, drinking their twenty and forty bowls of rack punches, and
madeira, and claret, in lieu of a knot of deputy sheriffs and hack at
torneys, each with his cruet of whisky before him, and puddle of
tobacco-spittle between his legs.
But to return to Paris. It is wonderfully improved since you
savf it ; nay, since the last restoration, but it is still the filthiest hole,
no(. excepting the worst parts of the old town of Edinboro', that I
ever saw out of Ireland. I have dined, for your sake, chez Beau-
villiers, and had bad fare, bad wine, and even bad bread, a high
charge, and a surly garqon. Irving, whom you know by character
(our ex-minister at Madrid), was with me. He says all the Traiteurs
are bad, and the crack ones worst of all. I have also dined with Very,
the first restaurateur of the Palais Eoyal, four times; on one of
which occasions I had a good dinner and a,fair glass of champagne —
next door to Very, once, at the Cafe de Chartres — with Pravot — Pas
tel ; all in the Palais Eoyal ; all bad, dear, and not room enough,
even at BeauvUliers' or 'V"ery's, to sit at ease. I can have a better
dinner for half a guinea at the Traveller's, in a saloon fit for a prince,
and where gentlemen alone can enter, and a pint of the raost exqui
site Madeira, than I can get here for fifteen francs. I have dined
like a raarketraan for 5 fr. 10 sous; that is the cheapest All the
wine, except le vin ordinaire, is adulterated shockingly. The Eng
lish, that raade every thing dear, and spoiled the gardens and fiUes,
VOL. II. 10*

226 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
whose greediness is only equalled by their irapudence. Crucifixes,
madonnas, and pictures and prints of that cast, with Charlotte Cor
day, &c., &c., are the order of the day. Paris swarms with old
priests, who have been dug up since the restoration, and they manu
facture young ones (Jesuits especially) by hundreds at a single ope
ration. Monsieur, whom you saw at Edinburgh, is remarkable, as I hear,
for consuming a hat per day, when one is each morning put upon his
toilet. Hats were not so plenty then.
I made a strange mistake in my order to Leigh. I intended to
have given him control over all my funds, except the tobacco sold
after that period, which I wished to reserve as a fund, on which to
play here — I mean in Europe. Pray, let it be so, deducting my
check for the passage money.
And now, ray good friend, let me tell you that the state of my
eyes, and of my health, and of my avocations too — ^for I have a great
deal of writing to do — may cause this to be the last letter that you
shall receive from me until my return, when we shall, I hope, chat
about these and other matters once more.
In case you should not have gone to Kentucky, I expect a regu
lar bulletin from you. There is one subject very near my heart that
you must keep me inforraed about. I know that woraen (with great
plasticity on other subjects) never will take. advice upon that. I
know that they rush into ruin with open eyes, and spend the rest of
their lives in cursing, at least, the happier lot of their acquaintances,
who have in the raost iraportant concern of life been governed by the
dictates of coraraon sense. The man is too old ; he has not 7vous
enough ; he is helpless. If he had ten thousand a year, he would
not be a raatch for her. I don't know who is worthy of her. But
let him be of suitable age, with mind and taste congenial with her
own, and of an erect spirit as well as carriage of body. They, shall
have my blessing. Adieu, J. E. OF E.
Except a few of the English, with which people Paris swarms,
I have not seen, either in the streets or elsewhere, any thing that by
possibility might be mistaken for a gentleraan. The contrast in this
respect with London is most striking; indeed I would as soon com
pare the Hottentots with the French as these last with the English.
No Enquirer yet received, and I pine for news from home.
The latter part of the sumraer Mr. Eandolph spent amqng the
mountains of Switzerland. August the 25th he says: "I was at
Lauterbrunnen gazing on the Stubbach, or seeing ' the soaring Jung-
frau rear her never-trodden snow.' "

PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. 227
He arrived in New- York the 2d day of December, when the result
of the Presidential election was still in doubt, and hastened on to
Washington.

CHAPTEE XXVII.
PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION.
The Presidential election of 1824 was the legitimate result cf the
preceding " era of good feelings.'' In that contest there was not one
political principle involved. In no State in the Union, Delaware
alone excepted, did the people pretend to keep up their old party
organization. The word federalist was not heard in political circles ;
it was a mark of rudeness to attach that epithet to any gentleman ;
the measures it represented had long since been exploded ; the word
itself, as calling up unpleasant reminiscences, had grown obsolete ;
and every body professed to belong to the great republican family.
It was suspected there were many federalists in disguise, and that
their profession of republicanism was merely a lip service ; but no
one could point them out, or identify them by their political acts.
The party had been dissolved, the federalists theraselves admitted ;
but they contended that it had only been dissolved by the republi
cans embracing their doctrines. And it is very true that all the
leading measures of Congress were of a federal stamp, and that they
were bottomed on principles of the most latitudinous kind ; the very
sarae that Harailton used in defending his obnoxious schemes, that
brought such discredit on the name of federalism. It was impossible
to draw a line of distinction between men, or to set up any standard
by which to judge their opinions. Old measures and the divisions
they occasioned had passed away ; new measures, under entirely new
and variant circumstances, had been brought forward ; but they in
volved the same principles of interpretation, and required the same
line of argument in their defence, as the old ones : but men did not
divide upon them as they had done heretofore. Those who professed
to abhor the doctrines of Hamilton, when applied to the schemes of

228 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
his day, now embraced them as the only means of defending and sufl-
taining their own measures. A change of circumstances was thought'
to justify a change of political principle. In Hamilton's day, and
down to 1811, a national bank was unconstitutional; but now, in the
estimation of republicans, it had become " necessary and proper,"
and therefore constitutional. Those who came into power with Mr.
Jefferson, professing hostility to a national bank, and who refused ik
1811 to re-charter the old one, established in 1816 a similar institu
Vion. The latitudinous construction of the Constitution by the
Adams administration in 1798-99, and the odious measures based
thereon, such as the alien and sedition laws, constituted the principal
objection to that administration, and were the miin cause of its over
throw ; and the substitution of a party professing the contrary doc-;
trines — a party that professed to interpret the Constimticn literally,
and that would exercise no power that had not been specifically given
by some express grant in the Charter. This party pursued theiri
principles for some years, and furnished a model of a plain, just, and
economical government ; but in 1816, while nominally in power, they
elected their President, and for eight years seemed to control the
measures of his administration ; and yet those measures, as we havo
abundantly seen, were founded on the same principles that had been
so loudly condemned and unequivocally repudiated under the Adams
dynasty : so easily are men deceived by names and appearances ; so
hard is it to follow a rigid rule of abstinence, when appetite and
opportunity invite to indulgence.
A respectable minority, with John Eandolph at the head, invaria
bly opposed the consolidating measures of the times ; demonstrated
their identity with the exploded doctrines of federalism, and warned
the people of the dangerous consequences ; but it was a sort of Cassan
dra voice, that nobody heeded : it seemed impossible to restore the old
landmarks, and to convince the people that they had gone backwards,
and fallen into the old paths they had once abandoned. All were ex-
expecting some special advantage from the legislation of the day ; the
hopes of profit had stified the remonstrances of truth ; and the popular
leaders were constantly dazzling the imaginations of the people with
some magnificent scheme, by which they hoped to gain renown for them
selves, and to fasten to their fortunes by the ties of a coraraon interest
some class or section of the community. The presidential candidates

PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. 229
were all committed, or in some way identified with those schemes,
Mr. Adams, Mr Calhoun, and Mr. Crawford, were members of the
cabinet ; but they had not been slow in expressing themselves on all
occasions, and had given unequivocal evidence of their devotion to
those broad doctrines that swept away the barriers of the Constitu
tion, and made it a convenient instrument to sanction whatever might
be deemed for the time being to be necessary and proper.
Mr. Clay, as the leader in the House of Eepresentatives, had been
their most ardent, active, and eloquent champion. His position gave
him the advantage of the initiative in all popular raeasures, and he never
failed to identify hiraself with thera . by some bold and eloquent dis
course. Not content with sweeping away the barriers within the narrow
horizon of domestic politics, he embraced in the wide scope of his phi
lanthropic regard all the oppressed and struggling nations of the earth ;
and, turning a deaf ear to the warning of the father of his country,
he hastened to speak a word of encouragement, and to stretch out an
arm of help without regard to the consequences to his own country.
His ambition for public display, his thirst for present and personal
applause, his frank and manly character, his sanguine temperament,
and bold imagination, with a quick, comprehensive, yet undisciplined
mind, made him just the character to be led off by any popular theme
that might promise distinction and popularity — just the raan to fol
low with undoubting faith the shining ignis fatuus of the hour, and
to be dazzled by it and deceived.
General Jackson had not been in political life, and possessed
great railitary renown ; this gave him an advantage oyer his competi
tors : but he was not known to differ materially from them in his
politJba: opinions. There were no public acts to commit him ; but
all his correspondence and conversations, so far as they were raade
known to the public, proved that at that tirae he had no clear con
ception of the principles that divided the old federal and republican
parties, and that he was equally devoted to those new raeasures which
had done so much to bring back in disguise the ascendency of
federal doctrines.
In this state of things the partisans of each of the candidates for
the presidency sought to impress on the public mind the idea that
their friend was par excellence the true republican candidate. But
it was impossible to persuade the people to this belief, when there

230 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
was no political principle dividing thera — ^no platform of doctrine on
which they were called to stand, so as to be separated and distin
guished from those around them. The consequence was, the whole
country was divided into sectional and personal factions. The West
and Southwest voted for a western and southwestern man ; New-
York and New England voted for a New England man ; while the
Southern and Middle States were divided between a northern, a
southern, and a western man. There was no principle to bring the
discordant sections together, and to cause thera to sacrifice their
friend on the altar of the public good : there was no such public
good — nothing in the whole controversy that would justify any such
iraraolation. What advantage had Mr. Adaras over Mr. Clay, or
Mr. Crawford, or General Jackson ? or what advantage had either of
these over him, so as to induce the friends of one to surrender him
that they might thereby secure the success of the other ? It was not
publicly pretended that one was sounder in his political opinions than
the other ; and they all stood on their own personal merits as having
done some service to the country and to the republican cause. The
friends of Mr. Crawford endeavored to gain an advantage for him
by procuring a " regular nomination," according to the usages of the
party. It had been usual for a convention, or, as it was called, a
caucus, of republican members at the proper time to assemble to
gether, and to designate some suitable person for the presidency or
whora the people raight concentrate their votes, so as to prevent the
triumph of those principles which they regarded as so obnoxious : so
long as feder&lisra continued in organiaed opposition, this concentra
tion was the only means of securing the ascendency to the republican
party. But federalism had long ceased to exist as an opposing fo'ce.
This party machinery, therefore, in the absence of those higher mo
tives of combination, could only be made to subserve the purposes of
faction, and to give an undue advantage where none was deserved.
The friends of Mr, Cl,^wford, however, being raostly from Vir
ginia and New- York, and considering themselves as the true stand
ards of republican orthodoxy, persisted in their course, notwith
standing a formidable opposition, and called together their conven
tion the 14th of February; 1824. Out of two hundred and sixty-one
members of Congress, only sixty-four attended the meeting in person,
and two by proxy. The two proxies and sixty-two members present

PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. 231
voted for Mr. Crawford. Of the sixty-two votes, one-half were from
New- York and Virginia. This convention did not exceed one-fourth
of the members of Congress, and was coraposed entirely of the friends
of one only of the candidates — there was no comparison of opinions —
no sacrifices of personal preferences and mutual concessions for the
good of a common cause. Under such circumstances, it is obvious
that the meeting could make no pretensions to nationality,^ not even
to a full and fair party organization. Yet it was proclaimed as " the
regular nomination " according to the usages of the party, and the
republicans called on to sustain it as such. In Virginia, the people
gave it their support, because Mr. Crawford was their choice under
all circurastances. But in New-York it met with a very different
fate. Mr. Crawford was not a favorite with the people of New- York,
though her delegation voted for him in the caucus of 1816 in oppo
sition to Mr. Monroe, and carae near defeating by their skilful and
secret management the only person seriously spoken of by the peo
ple. Finding that the " regular nomination,'' according to party
usage, which carried such a potent spell with it heretofore, had lost
its infiuence, and that if the people were left to themselves, Mr.
Crawford was certain of defeat, his friends took refuge in the legis
lature, and determined to gain their point by keeping the election
from the people. Up to this time the electors of President and
Vice-President had been nominated by the legislature. The people
now determined to take the election in their own hands. A bill to that
effect passed the lower House with only four dissenting voices, such
was the unanimity on the subject ; but it was defeated in the Senate,
where there were a majority of Mr. Crawford's friends. So great
was the excitement in the State, that the Governor called an extra-
session of the legislature to execute the will of the people. But the
Senate again defeated the bill, and the Asserably adjourned without
doing any thing. All this was done in the narae of liberty. The
majority of the Senate assumed to be the only true exponents of re
publicanism, and Mr. Crawford as its only true representative, and
in order to carry their measures, coramitted great violence on their
own principles. But even the legislature would not sustain this
violent effort to force the State to cast her vote for one she did not
prefer.

282 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
When the nominations were made, Mr. Crawford got only four
out of the thirty-six electoral votes of New- York.
The events of this presidential campaign furnish an instructive
page of history, which should be well considered by the people. It
was just the combination of circumstances to tempt ambitious men
to form coalitions for their own personal ends, and to make a
regular bargain and sale of the rights of the people. In the absence
of all political principle — in a mere contest between individuals for
power — what was to prevent a union of the North and the South, or
the East and the West, in a regular contract for a division of the
spoils? There was no election by the people. Adams, Crawford.
Clay and Jackson, were all voted for, but no one obtained a majority
of the electoral colleges. The duty of making a choice between the
three highest candidates now devolved on the House of Eepresenta
tives. For a long time Mr. Clay was expected to be one of the three.
The vote of Louisiana, which his friends expected, being given
against him, caused Mr. Crawford to have a few more votes than he,
and the contest was between Jackson, who had the highest number
of votes in the electoral colleges, Adams, and Crawford. Mr. Clay,
from his great infiuence, had entire control of the election. He de
cided in favor of Mr Adams, and immediately accepted, at his hands,
the office of Secretary of State. He was openly charged in the House
of Eepresentatives with bargain and corruption. He 'repelled the
chirge with becoming indignation. The reasons he gave for voting
for Mr. Adams were just — situated as he was, he could not have
voted otherwise — ^but the fact of his accepting office from the man he
himself had elevated into the seat of power, condemned him. He
should have given the vote, but declined the office. His own con
sciousness of innocence may have sustained him in- the performance
of the deed, but it could not screen him from the inferences that
would be drawn from it by a censorious world. Men's motives are
known only to theraselves ; language, says Talleyrand, was given to
conceal them ; and that which is avowed, is rarely the true cause of
any action. Knowing these things, it is not surprising that a
jealous and censorious world will at least suspect the motive^ where
the act and the circumstances might justify the imputation of a bad
one. During the time of the ballotting, an incident took place that was

HIS CONSTITUENTS. 233
very characteristic of John Eandolph ; it showed his great accuracy in
the statement of a fact, at the same time his jealous observance not
only of the rights of the States, but even of the forms and expres
sions in which those rights might be involved. Mr. Webster was
appointed by the tellers who sat at one table, and Mr. Eandolph by
those at the other, to announce the result of the ballotting. After the
nallots were counted out, Mr. Webster rose, and said : Mr. Speaker,
the tellers of the votes at this table have proceeded to count the bal
lots contained in the box set before them ; the result they find to be,
that there are for John Quincy Adams, of Massachusetts, 13 votes;
for Andrew Jackson, of Tennessee, 7 votes ; for Wm. H. Crawford, of
Georgia, 4 votes.
Mr. Eandolph, from the other table, made a statement corres
ponding with that of Mr. Webster, in the facts, but varying in the
phraseology, so as to say that Mr. Adaras, Mr. Jackson, and Mr.
Crawford, had received the votes of so many States, instead of so
many votes.

CHAPTEE XXVILI.
"such CONSTITUENTS AS MAN NEVER HAD BEFORE, AND
NEVEE WILL HAVE AGAIN."
From Charlotte Court-house, Tuesday, April 5th, 1825, Mr. Ean
dolph writes to Dr. Brocketibrough : " Much against ray will — I
do not deceive myself — I am involved in another election. Two
more years, if I live as long, in that bear garden, the House of
Eepresentatives ! You ask after my health, it is wretched in the
extreme. Nothing but an earnest desire to avoid the imputation of
giving myself airs, brought me here yesterday.'' He was at Prince
Edward Court-house, also, on Monday, the 18th — the day of elec
tion in that county. It was the first time the writer of this meraoir
had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Eandolph among his constituents, or
hearing him on the hustings. He was then a lad at the neighboring
college — Hampden Sydney. That day was given as a holiday to
the students, and they all repaired at an early hour to the Court-

234 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
house to see the wonderful man of whom they had heard so rauch.
I saw Mr. Eandolph when he arrived on the " court green ;" he
alighted from his sulky some distance from the Court-house, and
handed over the reins to Johnny, who was in an instant by his side.
He was dressed in his old " uniform of blue and buff." with knee-
buckles, and long fair-top boots. He seemed to limp slightly in his
gait, which only added dignity and gravity to his carriage. The
moraent his arrival was known, the people carae flocking from all
directions towards him. The tavern-porches, the shops, and offices, were
soon emptied, and every body went running towards the great object
of attraction. His old acquaintances (and who were not old acquaint
ances there ?) were eager to take hira by the hand ; they pressed for
ward without ceremony, and their greetings were most cordially re
ciprocated. To all the old men he had something to say, pointed
and appropriate, that seemed to give them infinite satisfaction — a
word of recognition, that meant raore than it expressed, and went
home to the heart. He raarched slowly towards the Court-house,
still greeting and talking with his friends, as they came up to take
liim by the hand. Many followed him, doubtless, from curiosity ; but
much the largest portion of the crowd that hovered around him,
were men who had known him all their lives, and had seen him a
hundred times before ; yet they followed him with as much interest
as the youngest school-boy there, and their eyes could not be sated by
gazing upon him. Such is the magic influence of genius and bf
true greatness on the human raind. 'Tis said that Eobert. Burns
could not arrive at an inn, at midnight, without its being known to
all the inmates, who would corae flocking, even in their night gar
ments, to see, for the twentieth time, perhaps, the enchanting coun-
tenahce of Scotland's noblest bard, who, like Eandolph, from his
earliest youth, had no other thought but to serve and adorn bis na
tive land. " E'n then a wish (I mind its power),
A wish, that to my latest hour
Shall strongly heave my breast —
That I, for poor auld Scotland's sake.
Some usefu' plan or book could make.
Or sing a sang at least.''
Mr. Eandolph was pressed to make a speech. He pleaded his
wretched health, and begged to be excused. But no excuse would be

HIS CONSTITUENTS. 235!
taken ; his old friends wanted to hear him ; it was a long time since
they had that pleasure ; great changes had taken place in politics ;
they had heard much about them, but wanted to hear from his own
lips how the matter stood. Finding that no apology would be taken,
that such men as the Mortons, the Prices, the Watkins' and the Ven
ables, were urging on him to say something to gratify the people, he
at length consented ; and retiring from the multitude, he sat down
on an oaken bench in the corner of the Court-house yard, and rested
his head on the end of his umbrella. No one approached or dis
turbed him. After sitting some ten or fifteen minutes, he arose, and
asked the sheriff to make proclaraation that he would address the
people. There was no need of that ; they were all there, pressing
around, and waiting patiently his pleasure to speak to thera. As he
approached the stile, t}ie crowd receded, and opened a way for him
to pass. I followed in his wake, unconscious of what I was doing,
and stood near his left side, where I could hear every word that was
uttered, and see every motion of every muscle of the whole man. I
was too young to remember what was said, at this distance of time.
The newspapers said he "addressed his constituents in a manner a,ni
with n,2tter which gave great and universal satisfaction. He des
canted, with great eloquence and power, on the alarming encroach
ments of the General Government upon the rights of the States." I
have no doubt that was the theme of his discourse. But what I saw
I shall never forget — the manner of the man. The tall, slender fig
ure, swarthy complexion, animated countenance ; the solemn glance,
that passed leisurely over the audience, hushed into deep silence be
fore him, and bending forward to catch every look, every motion and
every word of the inspired orator ; the clear, silver tones of his
voice ; the distinct utterance — full, round expression, and emphasis
of his words ; the graceful bend and easy motion of the person, as he
turned frora side to side ; the rapid, lightning-like sweep of the
hand when something powerful was uttered ; the earnest, fixed gaze,
that followed, as if searching into the hearts of his auditors, while
his words were telling upon them ; then, the ominous pause, and the
twinkling of that long, slender forefinger, that accompanied the
keen, cutting sarcasm of his words — all these I can|-never forget.
My beau ideal of the orator was complete. What I had read of De
mosthenes and Cicero, aided by the lights' of Longinus and Quinctil-

236 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
ian, was fulfilled in this man. I have heard him several times sinoo
from the same place. Those who have heard him elsewhere concur
in the opinion, that before the people of Prince Edward he was pecu
liarly free and happy. These were the people that stood by him in
the darkest hour of his fortunes ; " when two administrations" and
the whole political press made war upon him, they shielded him from
the assaults of his enemies, and cheered him in the desolate and dan
gerous path he. had to tread, by the light of their countenance and
the voice of their approbation. It is not wonderful, - then, that in
the presence of such a people, the reminiscences of the olden time
should rekindle the slumbering fires of his heart, and inspire his
thoughts with more than their wonted force and brilliancy.
From ihe stand, Mr. Eandolph retired to the bench in the Court
house. The polls were opened, and the voting commenced. Each
one, as he came up, pronounced with a clear and audible voice the
name of John Eandolph as the person voted for for Congress. There
was not a dissenting voice. When any one of the old men gave his
vote, Mr. Eandolph partly rose from his seat, and in the most bland
and affecting manner thanked him for his vote. He seemed to say,
I am grateful, sir, and proud to have the approbation of a man of
your independence, understanding, integrity, and weight of character.
The old man returned the salutation with a look that said, I am
proud, also, to have the privilege of voting for you, Mr. Eandolph.
There was no pretence, no affectation in all this ; it was natural,
spontaneous, and, to those who knew the history of the parties and
their relations to each other, it was truly affecting. No one could
look upon the scene without exclaiming, that with such constituents
and such representatives, no danger or harm could befall the Eepub
lic. They were men, for the most part, owners of the soil, and living
by its cultivation ; men who, frora their youth up, by the daily read
ing of the best conducted political journals, and their raonthly con
versations and discussions at the Court-house on political topics, had
become familiar with the institutions of their country and the raan
ner in which they had been conducted — who knew the characters of
all public men that had risen above a neighborhood reputation, and
could judge dispassionately and without enthusiasm of their objects
and the tendency of their measures — they were models of republican-
simplicity, intelligence, and virtue. The same, for the most part.

HIS CONSTITUENTS. 237
may be said of all Mr. Eandolph's district. He had represented
them for five and twenty years ; they all knew him — men, women,
and children — and he knew them. These are the people of whom he
spoke, when he said, on a memorable occasion in the House of Eep
resentatives ;
" I will go back to the bosom of my constituents — to such con
stituents as man never had before, and never will have again — and I
shall receive from them the only reward that I ever looked for, but
the highest that man can receive — the universal expression of their
approbation — of their thanks. I shall read it in their beaming faces ;
I shall feel it in their gratulating hands. The very children will
climb around ray knees, to welcome me. And shall I give up them,
and this ? And for what ? For the heartless arausements and va
pid pleasures and tarnished honors of this abode of splendid misery,
of shabby splendor ? for a clerkship in the war office, or a foreign mis
sion, to dance attendance abroad, instead of at home — or even for a
Department itself? Sir, thirty years make sad changes in man.
When I first was honored with their confidence, I was a very young
man, and my constituents stood almost in parental relation to rae, and
I received from them the indulgence of a beloved son. But the old
patriarchs of that day have been gathered to their fathers — some adults
remain, whom I look upon as my brethren : but the far greater part
were children — little children — or have come into the world since my
public life began. I know among thera, grand-fathers, and men mus
ter-free, who were boys at school when I first took my seat in Con
gress. Time, the mighty reformer and innovator, has silently and
slowly, but surely changed the relation between us ; and I now stand
to them in loco parentis — in the place of a father — and receive from
them a truly filial reverence and regard. Yes, sir, they are my chil
dren — who resent, with the quick love of children, all my wrongs,
real or supposed. Shall I not invoke the blessings of our coramon
Father upon them. Shall I deem any sacrifice too great for them ?
To them I shall return, if we are defeated, for all of consolation that
awaits me on this side of the grave. I feel that I hang to existence
but by a single hair — the sword of Damocles is suspended over me."
Mr. Eandolph spent the suramer in his usual solitude at Eoan
oke. In June, he says to Dr Brockenbrough:
" You are very good in taking time to write to me, but I hope
you will continue to do so, notwithstanding the drudgery of penman
ship that you are subjected to — for your letters constitute the only
link between me and the world, at present — a world where I have
but a little while longer to stay. I feel those internal monitions (of
which the patient alone is sensible) that convince me that I cannot

238 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
hold out much longer, and although life has no one attraction left foi
me, I cannot but look towards its point of dissolution, with some mis
givings of mind. We shall probably never raeet again on this side
of the grave : beyond it, all is involved in obscurity. I have just as
much expectation of living to the end of the century, as to the close
of the year. There is nothing left now for regimen or medicine to
act upon. I have never been in such a condition ; not even in 18)7."
July 8th, he says : — " Your kind letter of the 3d has just arrived
to throw a cheerful ray over my clouded mind. Although I stood in
no need of any such assurance, yet the declaration it contained at the
outset gave me most sensible gratification. I believe we ha/e dealt
as little in professions as any persons similarly circumstanced ever
did ; and for a plain reason — neither of us distrusted the sincerity
of his sentiments towards the other My dear friend, my strength
ebbs apace. My health (like the stocks) fluctuates, but gets worse.
I have lost my grasp upon the world. If it be not mad — then I am.
Its political, religious and commercial relationships are, in my view,
irrational and contemptible ; but I still cherish a warm feeling of
regard and of intere'st in the welfare of those who have manifested
kindly dispositions towards me. Indeed, I wish well to all — I must
except a few ' caitiffs' — and would do good to all, if it was in my
power. Among those who have shown rae favor, I set high value upon
the attachment of Frank Gilmer ; and I too had a very strong desire for
his sake, that he would take the professorship. I was concerned to
learn by a late letter frora Mr. Barksdale, that he looked very ill, and
was more desponding than when B. saw him in March. When you
write to hira, name me among those who think often and always kind
ly of hira.
" The rains have destroyed our crops of every description but In
dian corn, and that is ranch injured. If I live as long, which I do
not at all look forward to, I shall assuredly take the voyage you
mention. It is dreary enough to be in a land of strangers, a cipher
and at sufferance ; but any thing is better than the horrors of this
climate, and indeed our state of society and manners is so changed,
that were I to remain here, it must be in a sort of dreamy existence,
among my books and shades, ignorant of what might be passing in
the world around rae.
" Jarvis, I remember, some fourteen years ago, made me laugh
very heartily at poor Nicholson's table in Baltimore ; but I might
defy him now to raise even a smile, except of ' such a sort ' as Ju
lius Csesar could not endure. You are right to be as convivial as
you can ; soberly, as Lady Grace says. Dulce est desipere. I am
persuaded that our self-righteous denouncers of our old-fashioned
sports and pastimes have added nothing to the stock of our morali
ty ; our young men and boys have exchanged the five's-court, and

HIS CONSTITUENTS. 239
other athletic exercises, fbr the tavern-bench, squirting tobacco-juice,
and drinking whisky-grog. The girls, instead of balls and dress,
&c., discourse of original sin — 'fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge
absolute.' But after all, we shall look in vain for the worth or man
ners of the last generation.
" I read little but Dr. Barrow, and not much of him. I have
soraetimes thought of attacking Atterbury and South ; but after a
short application, ray eyes become dim and my head swims, and I
have to take a turn or two about the room to recover myself I
would not trouble you with this long (for such it is) and stupid letter,
but for the assurance that it is gratifying to you to hear from me in
my present reduced condition. You may judge what it is, when I
tell you that I have not seen my plantation since my return frora
Europe. " Butler's Eeminiscences I read two years ago, and was much dis
appointed in thera. Do you note an article in the Edinburgh Eeview
on the subject of the West Indies ? It is written in a most fero
cious spirit of philanthropy. My infirraity admonishes me to lay
down my pen." ,
The monotony and tedium of his solitary life were greatly re
lieved by a visit from his friends. Dr. and Mrs. Brockenbrough, in
the month of October. They spent a week with him. Most of his
correspondence, before and after, was in reference to this visit. It
was an important era in the chronicles of Eoanoke. November 25th,
he writes, " I am truly glad the agues fled before the thing with the
hard narae. Old Mrs. D. says of you, any body may see from his
face that he is a mighty clever raan. What say you to that, my dear
madam ? * * * * You know me well ; ' distrust ' is a sin that I
cannot- easily forgive. I can truly say that the pleasantest week by
far that I have spent for years, was that that you and Mrs. B.
spent here."
Mr. Eandolph was detained at home on business till late in De
cember. He did not arrive in Washington — " Babylon," as he called
it — till Christmas. In the mean time, he had been elected to the
Senate of the United States, to fill the vacancy occasioned by the re
signation of Gov. Jaraes Barbour, who had been appointed, by Mr.
Adaras, Secretary of War.
The election took place the 17th of December. The candidates
nominated were Judge Henry St. George Tucker, the halfbrother
of Mr Eandolph, William B. Giles, John Floyd, and John Ean
dolph. On the first ballot, the vote stood : Tucker 65, Eandolph

240 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
63, Giles 58, Floyd 40. According to the rule of the House, Mr.
Floyd was dropped, and the second ballot stood : Tucker 87, Eandolph
79, Giles 60. Mr. Giles being likewise dropped under the rules, and
the members having prepared and deposited their ballots in the
boxes, Mr. Jackson on the part of the friends of Mr. Tucker, rose
and stated to the House, that it was the desire of Mr. Tucker, in
no event, to be placed in competition with Mr. Eandolph. Con
sidering that Mr. E. had no chance of being elected, they had on
their own responsibility, put Mr. Tucker in nomination. But as the
collision was now between these two gentlemen, they thought it due
to Mr. Tucker's feelings and request to withdraw his name. Some
conversation then ensued, in which it was suggested that the ballot-
boxes ought to be emptied and the ballots again collected. Mr.
Jackson declared he did not know the ballots had been put in the
boxes, or he should have withdrawn Mr. Tucker sooner. One gen
tleman remarked that the person who had been last dropped, ought,
under these circurastances, to be again before the House. But the
chair decided, that as the ballots had been all deposited in the boxes,
and there being no mistake or irregularity, they must be counted
under the rule of the House, This was accordingly done, and the
ballots stood, Eandolph 104, Tucker 80. Mr. Eandolph, having a
majority, was declared duly elected.
On the reception of the news of this election, through a letter
from Dr. Brockenbrough, Judge Tucker thus responds : " I have
barely time before the closing of the mAil to acknowledge the receipt
of your friendly letter, and to express my hearty concurrence in the
gratification you feel at the election of my brother. I could wish in^
deed that my name had been withheld, yet hope that its withdrawal
even at the time it took place, was not too late to manifest my de
ference to him. God preserve him long as an honor to his station
and the Old Dominion. I cannot but think that this occurrence will
reanimate his spirit, and restore him to that activity in the public
councils for which he was always remarkable, until he thought him
self unkindly treated by his native State. He will now, I trust, see
in himself her favorite son."

THE ADAMS ADMINISTRATION. 241
CHAPTEE XXIX.
THE ADAMS ADMINISTRATION.
The reader is already aware that Mr. Eandolph took no interest in
the late Presidential contest. There were jircumstances that inclined
him to favor the pretensions of Mr. Crawford ; but it was a mere
personal preference ; and as there were no principles involved in the
controversy, he left the country with rather a feeling of indifference
as to the result of the election. But no sooner was the contest de
cided by the election of John Quincy Adams in the House of Eepre
sentatives, than Mr. Eandolph gave unequivocal evidences of hos
tility to the new administration. For this he has been blamed by
many persons. It seemed like a pre-determination to condemn men
when they as yet had perpetrated no act worthy of condemnation.
But it must not be forgotten that we have a written Constitution,
containing the fundamental law of all our political institutions. We
have a Federal Government and State Governments, each with
limited and specified powers, and acting as mutual checks and balances
to each other. An over-action on the part of the one or the other
would destroy the equilibrium, and endanger the existence of our
complicated and nicely-adjusted system of Government. Hence the
necessity of a scheme of doctrine, or rules of interpretation, by which
the Constitution was to be construed, and the different departraents
guided in their adrainistration of the Government. Our statesmen
have something more to do than advise measures. They have to
show that those measures are sanctioned by the Constitution, and
that, in their final result, they will not disturb the harmony of the
system. In consequence of this necessity imposed on our public raen, there
had grown up at a very early period two distinct schools of politicians,
differing widely in their doctrines and rules of interpretation. But,
during the recent administration, as the reader is aware, these dis
tinctions were effaced, and men seemed to stand on the sarae platform,
professing a general, vague, undefined belief in the doctrines of repub
licanism. Mr. Adams, having acted a conspicuous part under Mr.
VOL. IL 11

242 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Monroe, had now to take an independent position, and to mark out a
line of policy for hiraself Eising from a subaltern station into tho
chief magistracy of the Eepublic, where he could not be restrained
by the authority of superiors, one would naturally suppose that his
mind would take the direction of its early thoughts and associations.
Mr. Adams's early education unfitted him to associate with those
statesraen who looked with jealousy on the Federal Government, who
deprecated its over-action as dangerous to the Union, and who abste
miously exercised those powers that had been actually delegated to
it. Being the son of the late President John Adams, he received his
education raostly abroad, while his father, as Minister of the United
States, attended the various courts of Europe. At a very early
period, before he had performed any public service whatever. General
Washington, doubtless, in compliment to his father, appointed him
Minister Plenipotentiary to the Hague. During the eventful period
of his father's administration, he continued abroad in daily connec
tion with the habits, opinions, and associations of the royal courts to
which he was successively transferred as Minister of the United
States. After the political revolution of 1800 had condemned the admin
istration of John Adams, and driven hira frora the helra of affairs,
one of his last acts was the recall of his son, to save him from the
mortification of being dismissed by Mr. Jefferson.
Soon after his return, John Quincy Adams was elected to the
Senate of the United States from Massachusetts. He was elected
as a federalist by a federalist Legislature ; and one of his first acts
in the Senate was to oppose the purchase of Louisiana, then the favo
rite measure of the republican party. But he had not been in the
Senate long before an eventful and radical change took place in his
public conduct. The restrictive policy of Mr. Jefferson, as the reader
is aware, was very much opposed in New England. It crippled their
comraerce, on which they were mainly dependent for support. The
embargo, in 1808, capped the climax of restriction ; and the opposi
tion in New England, led on by the old federal leaders, knew no
bounds in their denunciations of those measures, which they regarded
as so destructive of their interests.
Mr. Adams conceived the idea, or was informed by what he
deemed good authority, that his old friends and associates were about

THE ADAMS ADMINISTRATION. 243
to commit an aot of treason to the country ; that so deep was their
hostility to the measures of the Government, and so great their deter
mination to get rid of the burthen, that they contemplated a separa
tion from the Union. Through the interposition of a distinguished
Senator, he called on the President, and communicated to him his
apprehensions. He spoke of the dissatisfaction of the eastern portion of our Con
federacy with the restraints of the embargo. That there was nothing
which might not be attempted to rid themselves of it. That he had
information of the most unquestionable certainty, that certain citizens
of the Eastern States (naming Massachusetts particularly) were in
negotiation with agents of the British Government, the object of which
was an agreement that the New England States should take no further
part in the proceedings of the Federal Governraent ; that, without form
ally declaring their separation from the union of the States, they should
withdraw frora all aid and obedience to thera ; that their navigation and
comraerce should be free from restraint or interruption by the British ;
that they should be considered and treated by them as neutrals, and
as such might conduct themselves towards both parties. He assured
Mr. Jefferson that there was imminent danger that a separation
would take place ; that the temptations were such as might debauch
many frora their fidelity to the Union. The course of Mr. Adams
brought upon hira the hostility of his own legislature : another per
son was elected to succeed him, and he was instructed, during the
remnant of his term, to oppose the measures of the administration.
He retired from a position he could no longer hold with honor. The
purity of his motives was defended in the Senate by a member of
the administration party against the denunciations of his late col
league, who manifested feelings of the deepest hostility towards
him. Soon after his retirement, Mr. Adams was tendered a mission to
the court of St. Petersburg, but the Senate did not think such a mis
sion at that time was necessary, and did not confirm the appointment.
He was renominated by Mr. Madison on his accession to the Presi
dency, and the appointment was confirmed by the Senate. Mr.
Adams continued abroad in various diplomatic capacities till the
summer of 1817, when he was recalled by Mr. Monroe, and placed at
the head of his administration as Secretary of State.

244 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
During this " era of good feelings" nothing occurred to develope
the opinions of Mr. Adams as to the true construction of the Consti
tution. He is known to have favored the magnificent schemes of that
day, and is thought to have ha,d much influence over the mind of
Mr. Monroe in producing the great change of sentiment on the sub
ject of internal improveraent. Thus we perceive that the early edu
cation, and the diploraatic career of Mr. Adams in the midst of royal
courts, and the strongly concentrated and despotic governments of
an hereditary aristocracy, illy fitted hira to appreciate the unpretend
ing and absteraious doctrines of that republican school for which he
abandoned his old friends, and, as they say, basely calumniated them.
His change of position did not involve a change of politics. He
raerely exchanged a broken and divided party for one in the ascend
ant There never was an occasion to test the sincerity of this change
until he was elected President of the United States. In this ex
alted station, unrestrained by the routine of office, he was not long
in raanifesting the bold and ardent aspirations of his raind. Endowed
with a poetic genius and an ardent imagination, possessing a quick,
irascible, and obstinate temper, a man of the closet, wholly unused
to the restraints and the caution of legislative experience, he mounted
the chair of state with the boldness and the confidence of Phaeton
into the chariot of the sun.
The great idea that filled the mind and kindled the imagination
of Mr. Adaras was a magnificent scheme of internal improvement, to
be constructed by the General Governraent. In his inaugural address
he recurs to the subject, as he says, with peculiar satisfaction. " It
is that," he continues, " frora which I ara convinceJd that the unborn
millions of our posterity who are in future ages to people this conti
nent, will derive their most fervent gratitude to the founders of the
Union ; that on which the most beneficent action of its Government
will be most deeply felt and acknowledged. The magnificence and
splendor of their public works are among the imperishable glories of
the ancient republics. The roads and aqueducts of Eome have been
the admiration of all after ages ; and have survived thousands of
years after all her conquests have been swallowed up in despotism,
or become the spoil of barbarians." Mr. Adams did not doubt the
power of Congress to enter in this field of rivalry with the ancient
republics ; and to surpass even the Eoman empire, with the spoils of

THE ADAMS ADMINISTRATION. 245
a world in its treasury, in the magnificence and splendor of their
roads and aqueducts. He impatiently rejects the contrary proposi
tion as unworthy of consideration, and boldly and dogmatically an
nounces " that the question of the power of Congress to authorize
the making of internal iraproveraents is, in other words, a question
whether the people of this Union, in forming their common social
corapact as avowedly for the purpose of proraoting the general wel
fare, have performed their work so ineffably stupid as to deny them
selves the means of bettering their own condition. I have too much
respect for the intellect of my counti;y to believe it"
In his annual message, the President again dilates on this subject
with his peculiar aniraation and earnestness : " The spirit of iraprove-
ment is abroad upon the earth. It stimulates the heart, and sharp
ens the faculties, not of our fellow-citizens alone, but of the nations
of Europe, and of their rulers. While dwelling with pleasing satisfac
tion upon the superior excellence of our political institutions, let us
not be unmindful that liberty is power ; that the nation blessed with
the largest portion of liberty, raust, in proportion to its nurabers, be
the most powerful nation upon earth ; and that the tenure of power
by man is. in the moral purposes of his Creator, upon condition that
it shall be exercised to ends of benificence, to improve the condition
of himself and his fellow-man. While foreign nations, less blessed
with that freedom which is power, than ourselves, are advancing with
gigantic strides in th,e career of public improvement, were we to slum
ber in indolence, or fold up our arms and proclaim to the World that
we are palsied by the will of our constituents ; would it not be to cast
away the bounties of Providence, and doom ourselves to perpetual
inferiority ?"
But the President was surpassed, if possible, in his ideas of a
magnificent and all-powerful Government, by the Secretaries whom he
had gathered around him, as constitutional advisers. The Secretary /
of State, while a popular orator on the floor of Congress, had never
failed, when occasion offered, to describe in glowing terms, the bene
fits to be derived frora a free and unrestrained exercise of all those
powers that Congress, in its wisdom, might deem necessary and pro
per to promote the coramon good and general welfare. But the Sec
retary of the Treasury went beyond them both in defining the object
and the duties of Government. In his annual report he says the

246 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
duty of a provident Government is " to augment the number and va,
riety of occupations for its inhabitants ; ¦ to hold out to every degree
of labor, and to every modification of skill, its appropriate object
and inducement ; to organize the whole labor of a country ; to entice
into the widest ranges its mechanical and intellectual capacities, in
stead of suffering them to slumber ; to call forth, wherever hidden,
latent ingenuity, giving to effort activity, and to emulation ardor ; to
create employment for the greatest amount of numbers, by adapting
it to the diversified faculties, propensities, and situations of men, so
that every particle of ability, every shade of genius, raay come into
requisition." In the eye of these political economists. Go? ernment is every
thing, the people nothing. In their estimation, Government is a
unit, having absolute control over the property and the industry of
the people ; directing the resources of the one and the energies of
the other, into this or that channel, as may seem best to its sovereign
and omnipotent will.
Doctrines like these were not ventured even in the palmiest days
of federalism, John Adams, the father, and Hamilton, the Secretary,
could not hold a light to the son, and those luminaries around him,
who drew their inspiration from some modern political philosophy,
which taught that the prosperity of the people must be based upon,
and measured by, the oranipotent and unlimited powers conferred on
the Government. It is not surprising that th* people awoke from
their long dream of security, and that they were alarmed at the bold
ness and the confidence with which these extraordinary doctrines
were announced by the highest authorities known to the Constitu
tion. It is not surprising, that John Eandolph, the champion of
State-rights, should sound the tocsin to warn the people, and that in
the midst of so much error of doctrine, and bold usurpation of au
thority, he should express doubts of a long continuance of our fede
rative Government, as designed and constructed by our forefathers:
" We are now making an experiment," says he, " which has never
yet succeeded in any region or quarter of the earth, at any tirae, from
the deluge to this day. With regard to the antediluvian times, his
tory is not very full ; but there is no proof that it has ever succeeded,
even before the flood. One thing, however, we do know, that it has
never succeeded since the flood ; and, as there is no proof of its hav-

THE ADAMS ADMINISTRATION. 247
ing succeeded before the flood, as de non apparentibus et tiov, existcn-
tibus eadem est ratio; it is good logic to infer, that it has never suc
ceeded, and never can succeed any where. In fact the onusprobandi
lies on thera that take up the other side of the question ; for although
post lioc ergo jyropter hoc be not good logic, yet, when we find the same
consequences generally following the same events, it requires nothing
short of the skepticism of Mr. Hume, to deny that there is no con
nection between the one and the other , whatever, metaphysically
speaking, there raay be of necessary connection between cause and
effect. " I say, then, that we are here making an experiment which has
never succeeded in any time or country, and which — as Gcd shall
judge me at the great and final day — I do in my heart believe will
here fail ; because I see and feel that it is now failing. It is an in
firmity of my nature ; it is constitutional ; it was born with me ; it
has caused the misery (if you will) of my life ; it is an infirmity of
my nature to have an obstinate constitutional preference of the true
over the agreeable ; and I ara satisfied, that if I had an only son, or,
what is dearer, an only daughter — which God forbid ! — I say, God
forbid ! for she raight bring her father's gray hairs with sorrow to the
grave ; she might break my heart ; but, worse than that, what ! Can
any thing be worse than that ? Yes, sir, I might break hers. I
should be more sharp-sighted to her foibles than any one else 
" I say, in my conscience and in my heart, I believe that this ex
periment will fail. If it should not failj blessed be the Author of
all Good for snatching this people as a brand from the burning,
which has consumed as stubble all the nations — all the fruitfulness
of the earth — which, before us, have been cut down, and cast into the
fire. Why cumbereth it the ground ? Why cumbereth it ? Cut it
down ! Cut it down !
" I believe that it will fail ; but, sir, if it does not fail, its success
will be owing to the resistance of the usurpation of one raan, by a
power which was not unsuccessful in resisting another raan, of the
same name, and of the same race. And why is it that I think it will
fail? Sir, with Father Paul, I may wisb it to be perpetual, esto
¦perpetua, but I cannot believe that it will be so. I do not believe that
a free republican government is compatible with the apery of Euro
pean fashions and manners — ^is compatible with the apery of Euro
pean luxury and habits ; but if it were, I do know that it is entirely
incompatible with what I have in my hand — a base and baseless
paper system of diplomacy, and a hardly better paper system of
exchange. " Now, sir, John Quincy Adaras, coraing into power under these
inauspicious circurastances, and with these suspicious allies and con
nections, has determined to become the apostle of liberty, of un''versai

248 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
liberty, as his father was, about the time of the formation of tha
Constitution, known to be the apostle of monarchy. It is no secret.
I was in New- York when he first took his seat as Vice-President. I
recollect — for I was a schoolboy at the time — attending the lobby of
Congress, when I ought to have been at school. I remember the
manner in which my brother was spurned by the coachman of the
then Vice-President, for coraing too near the arms emblazoned on
the scutcheon of the vice-regal carriage. Perhaps I may have some
of this old animosity rankling in ray heart, and, coming from a race
who are known never to forsake a friend or forgive a foe, I am taught
to forgive my enemies; and I do, from the bottom of my heart, most
sincerely, as I hope to be forgiven ; but it is my enemies, not the
enemies of ray country, for, if they corae here in the shape cf the
English, it is my duty to kill thera ; if they come here in a worse
shape — wolves in sheeps' clothing, it is my duty and my business to
tear the sheep-skins from their backs, and, as Windham said to Pitt,
open the bosom, and expose beneath the ruffled shirt the filthy dow
las. This language was used in the House of Commons, where they
talk and act like men ; where they eat and drink like men ; and do
other things like men, not like Master Bettys. Adams determined
to take warning by his father's errors ; but in attempting the perpen
dicular, he bent as rauch the other way. Who would believe that
Adaras, the son of the sedition-law President, who held office under
his father — who, up to Deceraber 6, 1807, was the undeviating,
stanch adherent to the opposition to Jefferson's administration, then
almost gone — ^who would believe he had selected for his pattern the
celebrated Anacharsis Cloots, ' orator of the huraan race ?' As
Anacharsis was the orator of the human race, so Adams was de
termined to be the President of the human race, when I am not wil
ling that he should be President of my narae and race ; but he is,
and must be, till the third day of March, eighteen hundred and —
I forget when. He has come out with a speech and a message, and
with a doctrine that goes to take the whole human family under his
special protection. Now, sir, who made him his brother's keeper?
Who gave him, the President -of the United States, the custody of
the liberties, or the rights, or the interests of South America, or any
other America, save, only, the United States of America, or any other
country under the sun ? He has put himself, we know, into the way,
and I say, God send him a safe deliverance, and God send the coun
try a safe deliverance from his policy — ^from his policy."

THE PANAMA MISSION. 249
CHAPTEE XXX.
THE PANAMA MISSION — BLIFIL AND BLACK GEORGE.
The American system of Mr Clay was not confined to the mere do
mestic affairs of the United States, it contemplated a wider range,
and embraced within its scope an intimate political relationsh-Jp with
all the republics and empires of North and South America. On
the floor of the House of Eepresentatives, in 1820, he gave the first
outline of this American policy. " What would I give,'' says he,
" could we appreciate the advantages of pursuing the course I pro
pose. It is in our power to create a system of which we shall be
the centre, and in which all South Araerica will act with us. Im
agine the vast power of the two continents, and the value of the in
tercourse between them, when we shall have a population of forty,
and they of seventy millions. In relation to South Araerica, the
people of the United States will occupy the same position as the
people of New England do to the rest of the United States. We
shall be the centre of a system, which would constitute the rallying
point of human freedora against all the despotism of the old world.
Let us no longer watch the nod of any European politician. Let us
become real and true Americans, and place ourselves at the head of
the American system."
So soon as Mr. Clay took possession of the Department of State, he
had an ample field for the exercise of his passion for diplomacy. Ho
not only instilled his doctrines into the minds of our public function
aries abroad, but he immediately commenced a line of policy which
must soon consummate his cherished schemes, and place himself at
the head of an American Holy Alliance, to defend human freedom
against the despotism of the old world.
The Spanish American Eepublics, by various treaties araong them
selves, had determined to appoint delegates to meet in Congress at
Panama, for the purpose of devising means more effectually to prose
cute the war with Spain, who had not yet acknowledged their inde
pendence ; to settle some principles of international law ; and to di
gest some plan of co-operation with the United States, to prevent the
VOL. n. 11*

250 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
interference of any other nation in the present war, on behalf of
Spain, and to resist the further colonization of the American Joast
by the nations of Europe. There were many and serious difficulties
in the way of any participation on the part of the United States in
the deliberations and decisions of this Congress. Nor was their pre
sence at first anticipated. But this Assembly furnished too favorable
an opportunity for Mr. Clay to accomplish his schemes, to let it escape
He, as Secretary of State, intimated' to the resident Ministers at
Washington, in the name of the Government, that the United States,
if formally in'vited, would, on their part, appoint a person to repre
sent them. The invitation of course was extended ; but before ac
cepting it, the President thought that certain important preliminary
questions should be settled. It appeared to him to be necessary, be
fore the asserabling of such a Congress, to settle between the differ
ent powers to be represented, several prelirainary points ; such as the
subjects to which the attention of the Congress should be directed ;
the substance and the form of the powers to be given to the respect
ive Eepresentatives ; and the mode of organizing the Congress.
These subjects were discussed for many months in verbal conferences.
They were not merely preliminary, but vital as to the propriety of
accepting the invitation.
They were never settled. But the Secretary of State, and the
President, whose imagination had now become infiamed with the same
brilliant theme, were not to be diverte^ from their purpose by these
grave difficulties. Two silch ardent and obstinate tempers united on
the sarae object, were not to be balked by ordinary obstacles.
But a few days before the meeting of Congress, the 30th of No
vember, 1825, the Secretary wrote to the several Spanish American
Ministers, residing at Washington. After expressing his regret that
these subjects had not been arranged, he proceeds : " But as the want
of the adjustment of these preliminaries, if it should occasion any
inconvenience, could be only productive of sorae delay, the President
has determined, at once, to manifest the sensibility of the United
States to whatever concerns the prosperity of the American hemis
phere, and to the friendly motives which have actuated your Govern
ments in transmitting the invitation which you have communicated.
He has, therefore, resolved, should the Senate of the United States,
now expected to assemble in a few days, give their advice and consent,

THE PANAMA MISSION. 251
to send Commissioners to the Congress at Panama." Accordingly,
in his annual message, the 6th of December, the President announces
to Congress that " the invitation has been accepted, and ministers on
the part of the United States will be commissioned to attend at those
deliberations.'' New offices were to be created, and the whole policy of the coun
try, in despite of the warning of the father of his country, was to be
changed, by mere Executive will, without the advice and consent of
the Eepresentatives of the States, or of the people.
This extraordinary measure was deemed by the President to be
within the constitutional competency of tho Executive ; and, before
ascertaining the opinion of the Legislature as to its expediency, by
first obtaining a creation of the offices proposed to be filled, and then
an appropriation for the salaries, he nominated Eichard C. Anderson,
of Kentucky, and John Sergeant, of Pennsylvania, to be Envoys
Extraordinary and Ministers Plenipotentiary to the Assembly of
American Nations, at Panama.
Mr. Eandolph took his seat in the Senate a few days after the
message containing these nominations was communicated to that body.
On the 4th of January, 1826, he writes to a friend, "We are
here, as dull as the ' Asphaltic Pool.' Yet I think it possible (not
to say probable) that we shall not continue so during the remainder
of the session  If any check can be given to the Ex. Power, I
have long believed that the Senate alone had the reins. The H. of
E., from its character and coraposition, can never be formidable to a
P. who has common sense." The " Asphaltic Pool" was soon driven
and tossed by a mighty tempest.
After repeated calls on the President for fuller information,
which he very mincingly dealt out to them, the Senate at length com
menced in conclave to discuss the Panama question.
Mr. Van Burep, on the 15th of February, submitted a resolu
tion, "That upon the question, whether the United States shall be rep
resented in the Congress of Panama, the Senate ought to act with
open doors ; unless it shall appear that the publication of docuraents
necessary to be referred to in debate will be prejudicial to existing
negotiations." He submitted a further resolution, " That the President be re*
spectfully requested to inform the Senate whether such objection ex-

252 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
isted in the publication of the documents communicated by the Es«
ecutive, or any portion of them ; and, if so, to specify the parts the
publication of which would, for that reason, be objectionable."
Mr Eandolph opposed these resolutions. He protested against
opening the doors, and contended that the President was a co-ordin
ate branch of the Government, and was entitled to all possible respect
from the Senate, "-It is his duty," said he," to lay before us infor
mation on which we must act ; if he does not give us sufficient informar
tion,it is not our business to ask more." The resolutions, however, were
adopted; and the next day, the President sent tbe following message
in reply ; " In answer to the two resolutions of the Senate, of the 15th
instant, marked (Executive) and which I have received, I state re
spectfully, that all the communications from me to the Senate, relat-i
ing to the Congress at Panama, have been made, like all other ccm-
munications upon Executive business, in confidence, and most of them
in compliance with a resolution of the Senate, requiring them confix
dentially. Believing that the established usage of free eonfidential
communications between the Executive and the Senate ought, for the
public interest, to be preserved unimpaired, I deem it my indispensa
ble duty to leave to the Senate, itself, the decision of a question in
volving a departure, hitherto, so far as I ara informed, without exam
ple, from that usage, and upon the motives for which, not being in-
fprmed of them, I do not feel myself competent to decide."
,This message changed the tone of Mr. Eandolph towards the
President. Some weeks afterwards, when addressing the Senate with
open doors, he alluded to this subject.
" I did maintain," said he, " the rights of the President ; but from
the moment he sent us this message, from that moment did my tone
and manner to him change ; frora that moment was I an altered man,
and, I am afraid, not altered for the better.
" Sir, if he would leave to the Senate the decision of the question,
I would agree with him ; but the evil genius of the American house
of Stuart prevailed. He goes on to say that the question ' involves
a departure, hitherto, so far as I am informed, without example, from
that usage, and upon the motives for which, not being informed of
thera, I do not feel myself corapetent to decide.' If this had been
prosecuted for a libel, what jury would have failed to have found a
verdict on such an inuendo ? That we were breaking up from our
own usages to gratify personal spleen? I say nothing about our
rmretments, because he was not informed of them. The inuendo waS)

THE PANAMA MISSION. 253
that our motives were black and bad. That moment did I put, like
Hannibal, my hand on the altar, and swear eternal enmity against
hira and his, politically. From that moment I would do any thing
within the Ijmits of the Constitution and the law ; for, as Chatham
said of Wilkes, ' I would not, in the person of the worst of men, vio
late those sanctions and privileges which are the safeguard of the
rights and liberties of the best ; but, within the limits of the Consti
tution and the law, if I don't carry on the war, whether in the Penin
sula or any where else, it shall be for want of resources.' "
After further observations on the resolutions moved in conclave,
Mr. Eandolph repeated what he had then said in reference to the
message of the President
" Who made him a judge of our usages ? Who constituted Lim ?
He has been a professor, I understand. I wish he had left off the
pedagogue when he got into the Executive chair. Who made him
the censor morwm of this body ? Will any one answer this question ?
Yes or no? Who? Name the person. Above all, who made him
the searcher of hearts, and gave him the right, by an inuendo black
as hell, to blacken our raotives? Blacken our motives! I did not
say that then. I was raore under self-coramand ; I did not use such
strong language. I said, if he could borrow the eye of Omniscience
himself, and look into every bosom here ; if he could look into that
most awful, calamitous, and tremendous of all possible gulfs, the
naked unveiled human heart, stripped of all its covering of self-love,
exposed naked, as to the eye of God — I said if he could do that, he was
not, as President of the United States, entitled to pass upon our
motives, although he saw and knew them to be bad. I said, if he
had converted us to the Catholic religion, and was our father confes
sor, and every man in this House at the footstool of the confessional
had confessed a bad motive to him by the laws of his church, as by
this Constitution, above the law and above the church, he, as Presi
dent of the United States, could not pass on our motives, though we
had told him with our own lips our motives, and confessed they were
bad. I said this then, and I say it now. Here I plant my foot ;
here I fling defiance right into his teeth before the American people ;
here I throw the gauntlet to him and the bravest of his compeers, to
come forward and defend these miserable lines : ' Involving a depar
ture, hitherto, so far as I am infornied, without example, from that
usage, and upon the motives for which, not being informed of them,
I do not feel myself competent to decide.' Amiable modesty ! I
wonder we did not, all at once, fall in love with him, and agree una
voce to publish our proceedings, except myself, for I quitted the
Senate ten minutes before the rote was taken. I saw what was to

254 LIFE OF JOHN R ANDOL,PH.
follow ; I knew the thing would not be done at,all, or would be done
unanimously. Therefore, in spite of the remonstrances of ,friend3,
I went away, not fearing that any one would, doubt what my vote
would have been, if I had staid. After twenty-sis hours' exertion,
it was time to give in. I was defeated, horse, foot, and dragoons —
cut up, and clean broke down by the coalition of Blifil and Black
George — by, the combination, unheard of till th^, of the puritan with
the blackleg."

CHAPTEE XXXI. ,
DUEL WITH HENRY CLAY.
The remarks contained in the closing paragraph of the preceding
chapter, were made in reference to the coalition between Mr. Clay
and Mr. Adams. Mr. Eandolph was fully persuaded that it was the
result of corrupt motives ; and being so persuaded, he did not hesi
tate to express himself in the strongest terms of denunciation. . But,
on the present occasion, he so far forgot himself as to indulge in lan
guage of the grossest personal insult. We do not believe that this
was a premeditated and malicious assault on the private reputation
of an absent rival. In the heat of debate, Eandolph often used ex
pressions that in cooler moments he regretted. Concentration of
thought and intensity of expression were oharaoteristie of his mind.
Few men could say more pithy or pungent things. His sentences
were aphorisms, without a superfluous ornament, and pregnant with
meaning. On the present occasion, while the blood was up, and the
mind glowing with intense action, we are persuaded that he looked
only to the vividness of his illustrations and the aptness of bis allu
sions. He felt only the strength of the orator giving intensity to his
expressions ; he perceived- only the effect on his audience, and did
not consider the wound he might inflict on the feelings of the subject
of his allusions. If the thought flashed across his mind at the mo
ment, it was too late ; while "at the top of his bent,?' and in the eye
of the Senate, he oould not pause to weigh consequences. -When, per
haps, in the next hour after taking his seat, he may have regretted
that any offensive words had escaped his lips. So conscious was he

DUEL WITH HENRY CLAY. 255
of his proneness to this license in the heat of debate, that he not un
frequently asked pardon of the House, or of the Senate, while a mem
ber of that body, for any unguarded and injurious expressions he
may have uttered. We can readily fancy that when his attention
was called to the subject by a friend, he would exclaim, " God for
give me ! but it is too late now ; it can't be helped." Ha7ing fiung
down the gauntlet, and challenged the boldest champion of the admin
istration to take it up, he was not the man to take back any insulting
expressions that might provoke an acceptance of his challenge. Hav
ing offered the insult, he calmly awaited the consequences, not doubt
ing what those consequences would be. Mr. Clay was not a man of
such forbearance and Christian virtue as to permit a gross im
putation on his motives to pass unnoticed. The circumstances by
which he was surrounded, and the quarter from which it came, for
bade it on this occasion. He was compelled to act. He had reached
a crisis in his public career ; a vast suspicion hung upon the integrity
of his late conduct ; the public had fixed a jealous eye on his move
ments ; had he then quailed, or even been silent, under the charge of
bankruptcy in morals, both public and private, his political fortunes
would have been ruined beyond the hope of redemption. Eandolph,
too, was the man to confront. He had been the evil genius that from
the beginning stood in the way of his aspirations ; not as the weird
sisters in the path of Macbeth, to cheer him on with prophecies of
future greatness, but as the angel with the flaming sword, that
checked the presumptuous Baalam as he went up to curse the chil
dren of God.
He strode from the vestibule to the speaker's chair, and from that
elevated position fixed his eye on a still raore lofty seat. Eandolph's
keen and practised perception saw the dangerous and the vaulting
ambition of the man, and frora that raoraent marked hira as an
object of especial notice. While the country yet paused, and her
fate still hung balanced between peace and war. Clay, with burning
zeal, urged on to strife, Eandolph's voice was heard for peace. On
the political arena they met, and with ethereal weapons fought.
When the trophies of victory reared on the bloody fleld of combat
shall have mouldered into dust, the intellectual conflicts of these
great orators shall live in the memory of coraing ages. Soon they
parted; one to the shades and the solitude of Eoanoke, the other to the

256 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH. '
achievement of still higher exploits in the cabinet of diplomacy.
Again they met on the same arena. Peace had returned, and with
it a tide of prosperity that maddened the minds of the multitude,
and filled the imaginations of gravest statesmen with schemes of
magnificence and grandeur that brooke^ no constitutional restraint
in the way of their complete and immediate execution. But the
towering genius of the young Apollo soared above them all, and
bore away the crown of victory, while the people stood charmed
with the melodious tones of his persuasive voice, and enchanted by
the magic spell he had thrown about their bewildered minds. But
the eagle, towering in his pride, was doomed to fall. The keen
archer sped an arrow, plumed with feathers fallen from his own wing,
that brought him wounded to the earth. " From the time that I en
tered upon the subject of his conduct in relation to the Bank, in
1811 (renewal of the old charter) and in 1816 (the new Bank), and
on internal improvements, &c , (quoting his own words in his last
speech that ' this was a limited cautiously restricted government,) and
held up the ' compromise' in its true colors, he never once glanced
his eye upon rae but to withdraw it, as if he had seen a basilisk."
But the glance of the basilisk, nor the archer's shaft, could qiiell his
aspiring raind. Borne up on the popular breeze, he still mounted
aloft, and waved defiance to his enemies. Scorning meaner things,
his wide vision stretched across the continent, and embraced far dis
tant republics in the scope of his philanthropy. A halo of glory
seeraed to hover about his brow, and he rode like a sun, eclipsing the
beams of lesser luminaries. But his hour had come ; the fatal blun
der had been coramitted. Proud and confident, he had never mis
trusted his own infallibility. The averted countenance of retiring
friends, the chilling breath of cold suspicion, taught him when too
late that he also was mortal. In this hour of abandonment and
peril, his old enemy dealt him a deadly blow. He had no right to
complain; he could not exclaim et tu, Brute! for no friendship had
ever been professed : on the contrary, Eandolph had ever deprecated
his arabition as dangerous, and felt justified in the use of any weapon
that might curb its career. Embittered by the denunciations heaped
upon him on every hand, and chafed by the prospect of falling for
tunes. Clay only saw in his ancient rival a cunning Mephistopheles,
heaping scornful words upon him, and smiling in triumph at his over-

DUEL WITH HENRY CLAY. 257
throw. Stung to desperation, he sought revenge in the blood of his
adversary. Pity he knew no other mode of vindicating an injured
character than a resort to mortal combat. It is a reproach to civili
zation, if not to Christianity, that they have found no other raeans
of wiping away the stains of dishonor than that which is exacted by
the bloody code of a barbarous age.
These two reraarkable men, so often meeting in the arena of de
bate, and now for the first time on the bloody field, were born within
ii- day's ride of each other. One in the baronial halls of his an
cestors, on the lofty banks of the Apporaattox, the other in an hum
ble dwelling amidst the slashes of Hanover. While the poor depu
ty clerk, in the intervals of toil, picked up his scanty crumbs of
knowledge, the proud son of fortune enjoyed the richest repasts in
the highest seminaries of learning. While the one yet a youth, was
borne into the halls of Congress by the sweet voices of the people,
the other was still fighting his uncouth way to fame and fortune
among the hunters of Kentucky.
Born to coraraand, each was reared in that school that best fitted
hira to perform the part Providence had assigned him. In daily
contact with his fellows, the one became affable, courteous, winning
in his ways, and powerful in his influence over the mind and the will
of the admiring multitude ; the other, in retirement and solitude,
cherished those sterner virtues that made him the unbending advo
cate of truth, the unwavering defender of the Constitution, and
the intrepid leader of those who rallied around the rights of the
States as the only sure guarantee of the rights of the people.
The acknowledged charapions of the two great political parties
again reorganized, and with the hopes of the whole country resting
Upon them, these two men were about to meet for the purpose of ex
tinguishing the lives of each other. Sad end to a bright career ! But
encompassed as they were by a false sense of honor, which they them
selves had cherished, there was no other alternative but to fight.
With a laudable desire to terminate the difference between the parties
in a manner alike honorable to both, General Jesup and Colonel
Tattnall mutually agreed to suspend the challenge and acceptance,
in order that, if possible, satisfactory explanations might be entered
into. '
General Jesup, as the friend of Mr. Clay, stated that the injury

258 ^IFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
of which that gentleman complained consisted in this : that Mr Ean
dolph had charged him with having forged or manufactured a paper
connected with the Panama mission ; also, that he had applied to him
the epithet black legs. General Jesup considered it necessary that
Mr. Eandolph should declare that he had no intention of charging
Mr. Clay, either in his public or private capacity, with forging or
falsifying any paper, or misrepresenting any fact ; and also, that the
term black legs, if used, was not intended to apply to him.
Colonel Tattnall made the communication to Mr. Eandolph. His
reply cut off all hope of any satisfactory adjustment of the diffi
culty; " I have gone, says he, as far as I could in waiving my pri
vilege to accept a peremptory challenge frora a minister of the
Executive Government, under any circumstances, and especially un
der such circumstances. The words used by me were, that I thought
it would be in my power to show evidence, sufficiently presumptive,
to satisfy a Charlotte jury, that this invitation was " manufactured "
here^-that Salagar's letter struck me as being a strong likeness in
point of style, &c., to the other papers. I did not undertake to prove
this, but expressed my suspicion that the fact was so. I applied to
the administration the epithet, " puritanic, diplomatic, black-legged
administration." "I have no explanations to give — I will not give any— I am called
to the field — I have agreed to go and am ready to go."
" The night before the duel," says General James Hamilton, of
South Carolina, " Mr. Eandolph sent for me. I found him calm, but
in a singularly kind and confiding mood. He told me that he had
something on his mind to tell rae. He then reraarked, ' Hamilton,
I have determined to receive, without returning. Clay's fire ; nothing
shall induce me to harm a hair of his head ; I will not make his wife
a widow, or his children orphans. Their tears would be shed over
his grave ; but when the sod of Virginia rests on my bosom, there is
not in this wide world one individual to pay this tribute upon mine.'
His eyes filled, and resting his head upon his hand, we remained
sorae moments silent. I replied, ' My dear friend (for ours was a sort
of posthumous friendship, bequeathed by our raothers), I deeply re
gret that you have raentioned this subject to me ; for you call upon
me to go to the field and to see you shot down, or to assume the re-
fepohsibility, in regard to your own life, in sustaining your determina-

DUEL WITH HENRY CLAY. 259
tion to throw it away. But on this subject, a man's own conscience
and his own bosom are his best monitors. I will not advise, but un
der the enormous and unprovoked personal insult you have offered
Mr. Clay, I cannot dissuade. I feel bound, however, to communi
cate to Colonel Tattnall your decision.' He begged rae not to do so,
and said ' he was very rauch afraid that Tattnall would take the
studs and refuse to go out with hira.' I, however, sought Colonel
Tattnall, and we repaired about midnight to Mr. Eandolph's lodg
ings, whom we found reading Milton's great poem. For some mo
ments he did not permit us to say one word in relation to the ap.
proaching duel ; and he at once commenced one of those delightful
criticisms on a passage of this poet, in which he was wont so enthu
siastically to indulge. After a pause. Colonel Tattnall remarked,
' Mr. Eandolph, I am told you have determined not to return Mr.
Clay's fire ; I must say to you, my dear sir, if I am only to go out
to see you shot down, you must find some other friend.' Mr. Ean
dolph remarked that it was his determination. After much conver
sation on the subject, I induced Colonel Tattnall to allow Mr. Ean
dolph to take his own course, as his withdrawal, as one of his friends,
might lead to very injurious misconstructions. At last, Mr. Ean
dolph, smiling, said, ' Well, Tattnall, I promise you one thing, if I
see the devil in Clay's eye. and that with malice prepense he raeans
to take my life, I may change my mind.' A remark I knew he made
merely to propitiate the anxieties of his friend.
" Mr. Clay and himself met at 4 o'clpck the succeeding evening, on
the banks of the Potomac. But he saw ' no devil in Clay's eye,' but
a raan fearless, and expressing the mingled sensibility and firmness
which belonged to the occasion.
" I shall never forget this scene, as long as I live. It has been my
misfortune to witness several duels, but I never saw one, at least in
its sequel, so deeply affecting. The sun was just setting behind the
blue hUls of Eandolph's own Virginia Here were two of the most
extraordinary men our country in its prodigality had produced, about
to meet in mortal combat. Whilst Tattnall was loading Eandolph's
pistols I approached my friend, I believed, for the last time ; I took
his hand ; there was not in its touch the quivering of one pulsation.
He turned to me and said, ' Clay is calm, but not vindictive — I hold
my purpose, Hamilton, in any event ; remember this.' On handing

260 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
him his pistol. Colonel Tattnall sprung the hair-trigger. Mr. Ban
dolph said, ' Tattnall, although I am one of the best shots in Vir
ginia, with either a pistol or gun, yet I never fire with the hair-trigger:
besides, I have a thick buckskin glove on, which will destrojf the de
licacy of ray touch, and the trigger may fly before I know where T
am.' But, from his great solicitude for his friend, Tattnall insisted
upon hairing the trigger. On taking their position, the fact turned
out as Mr. Eandolph anticipated ; his pistol went off before the word.
with the muzzle down.
" The moment this event took place. General Jesup, Mr. Clay's
friend, called out that he would instantly leave the groupd with his
friend, if that occurred again. Mr. Clay at once exclaimed, it was
entirely an accident, and begged that the gentleman might be allowed
to go ; n. On the word being given, Mr. Clay flred without effect,
Mr. Eandolph discharging his pistol in the air. The raomeit Mr.
Clay saw that Mr. Eandolph had thrown away his fire, with a gush of
sensibility, he instantly approached Mr. Eandolph, and said with an
emotion I never can forget : — ' I trilst in God, my dear sir, you are
untouched ; after what has occurred, I would not have harmed you
for a thousand worlds.' "
Thus ended this affair. None but the uncharitable will believe,
after what passed on the field, that Randolph had any malicious mo
tive in the words that fell from him on the floor of the Senate. Had
a bloodthirsty spirit burned in his bosom, ' the best shot in Virginia'
would not have permitted this opportunity to escape of levelling his
weapon at the breast of an old rival, whose ponderous blows he had
felt for fifteen years, and whose political opinions he considered so
dangerous to the country. The true character of the man shone forth
when he declared his intention not to injure a hair of Mr. Clay's
head — and a gush of sensibility came over him at the thought of his
forlorn condition. Mr. Clay had a wife and children to mourn his
loss ; but there was not one to shed a tear over his solitary grave.
He knew the safety of his adversary — but with the immediate pros
pect of death before him, the sublime strains of the godlike Milton
attuned his heart to softest influences ; and the cords of affection so
long silent and rusted by the chilling breath of a cold world, awak
ened by the soft echoes of long past raemories, now vibrated a sweet,
though mournful melody, that mingled its harmonious notes with the
divine song of the poet :

NEGRO SLAVERY. 261
"How mournfully sweet are the echoes that start
When Memory plays an old tune on the heart."
John Eandolph was not understood. Many who professed to
know him, and who considered theraselves his friends, could not com
prebend " the hair-trigger" sensibility of the raan.
A few days after this affair, " Friday morning, April 14f 1826,"
he wrote thus to his friend. Dr. Brockenbrough :
" I cannot write — I tried yesterday to answer your letter, bst I
could not do it. My pen choked. The hysteria passio ot poor old
Lear, came over rae. I left a letter for you in case of the worst. It
now lies on my mantel-piece. Perhaps you may, one time or other,
see it. I j,m a fatalist. I am all but friendless. Only one human
being ever knew me. She only knew rae. Benton begins to ander-
stand and to love rae. Nothing has stood in his way. No lions in
his path. Had I suffered it, he would have gone with me, as my
friend. In that case I should not have violated the laws of Virginia.
It was not my intention to do so  and . . . were ardent,
honorable, devoted to my cause, but obtuse, wanted tact. I am a fatal
ist — on no one occasion of my life have I ever been in extremity, that
they, to whom my heart yearned and turned for aid, or at least for
comfort, have not appeared to hold aloof from me. I say appeared.
I ara assured that it was appearance, only, in both instances, on the
part of the two persons in "Yirginia, who shared highest in my confi
dence and regard. But when a raan comes horae from the strife and
conflict of this wicked world, and its vile and sinful inhabitants, it is
then that a certain tone of voice — an averted look — or even the sweet
austere composure of our first mother, cuts him to the heart in the
reception of the wife of his bosom. The words are nothing — the
countenance and the tone of voice, the last especially, every thing.
" I again repeat, that I cannot write. But I shall be thankful for
your letters ; as long as I could, I gave you what I had. I too am
bankrupt, and have as good a right to break as the rest. God bless
you both.'

CHAPTEE XXXII.
NEGRO SLAVERY.
Mr. Eanuolph participated largely in the debates of the present ses
sion. The absence and illness of his colleague, Mr. Tazewell, im
posed a double duty upon him. The extraordinary state of affairs

262 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
acting on a nervous sensibility, at all times acute- -exasperated now
by long protracted disease, made him more than commonly animated
and eccentric in his raanner and style of speaking. " The fever,"
says he, Feb. 27, 1 826, " and the toast and water (I touch nothing else),
keeps me more intoxicated (exhilarated, rather) than two bottles of
champagne," Many thought him mad ; but there was a method in
his madness. All his speeches had a purpose bearing on the past
history and the future destiny of the obnoxious incumbents in office.
While many thought he was scattering sparks and even fiiebranda
around him in wanton sport, he was forging weapons to be used in
the coming contest with the men in power. Many of his speeches
on these occasions were truly characteristic, some of them far-seeing
and prophetic, especially the one delivered March % on " Negro
Slavery in South America."
" I know there are gentleraen,'' said Mr. Eandolph, •• not only
from the Northern, but from the Southern States, who think that
this unhappy question — for such it is — of negro slavery, which the
Constitution has vainly attempted to blink, by hot using the term,
should never be brought into public notice, more especially into that
of Congress, and most especially here. Sir, with every due respect
for the gentlemen who think so, I differ from them, toto ccelo. Sir,
it is a thing which cannot be hid — it is not a dry-rot that you can
cover with the carpet, until the house tumbles about your ears — ^yoUi
might as well try to hide a volcano in full operation — ^it cannot be
hid ; it is a cancer in your face, and must be treated secundum artem ;
it must not be tarapered with by quacks, who never saw the disease
or the patient — it must be, if you will, let alone ; but on this very:
principle of letting it alone, I have brought in my resolution. I
am willi'jg to play what is called child's play — let me alone and.
I will let you alone ; let my resolution alone, and I will say no-i
thing in support of it ; for there is a want of sense in saying anyi
thing in support of a resolution that nobody opposes. Sir, will the
Senate pardon ray repeating the words of a great man, which cannot
be too often repeated ? ' A small danger, menacing an inestimable
object, is of more importance, in the eyes of a wise man, than tho
greatest danger which can possibly threaten an object of minor con
sequence.' I do not put the question to you, sir. I know what your
answer will be. I know what will be the answer of every husband,
father, son, and brother, throughout the Southern States ; I know that
on this depends the honor of every matron and maiden — of every ma
tron (wife or widow) between the Ohio and the Gulf of Mexico. I know
that upon it depends the life's blood of the little ones which are lying

NEGRO SLAVERY. 263
in their cradles, in happy ignorance of what is passing around them ;
and not the white ones only, for shall not we too, kill — shall we not
react the scenes which were acted in Guatamala, and elsewhere, except,
I hope, with far different success ; for if, with a superiority in point of
nurabers, as well as of intelligence and courage, we should suffer our
selves to be, as thera, vanquished, we should deserve to have negroes
for our task-masters, and for the husbands of our wives. This, then,
is the inestimable object, which the gentleman frora Carolina views in
the same light that I do, and that you do too, sir, and to which every
Southern bosom responds ; — a chord which, when touched, even by
the most delicate hand, vibrates to the heart of every" man in our
country. I wish I could maintain, with truth, that it came within the
other predicament — that it was a small danger, but it is a great dan
ger ; it is a danger that has increased, is increasing, and must be di
minished, or it must come to its regular catastrophe."
But it is not our purpose to make further allusion to Mr. Ean
dolph's public acts during the present excited session. Let us turn
to the inner man, and view him seated by his solitary fireside, com
muning with almost the only friend to whom he felt at liberty to un
veil the secret workings of his heart Friday, January 6, 1826, he
writes to Dr, Brockenbrough :
Your letter, addressed to Petersburg, has just hove in sight; I
should like " to have a word with you touching a certain subject,"
When I first heard of it I was thunderstruck. For that was the
only person who had (repeatedly) urged this raatter upon me, by the
strongest expressions that our language affords. At first it revived
very strongly the recollection of the " ratting" (as the English phrase
it) araong the " minority-men," some twelve or fourteen years ago ;
when this Very person (and long before his seceding from us) wrote
to me somewhat in this strain — " Let Monroe go over to the ministry,
if he will — as for us," &c., &c. Well, what of all this ; I have seen
and conversed with the party, in the most familiar manner, without
one bitter feeling. The event was too recent to be forgotten, but it
did not tinge, in the slightest degree, the kindly intercourse between
us. Am I to blame a raan for being what nature and education made
him ? In this case, I am persuaded that all the blame lies at the door
of the latter. What could be expected from such an example (to say
nothing of the precepts) as this poor fellow had always before him
And again, is it not more than an even wager, that I have defects at
least as great, although not of the same character ? My horse Mark
Anthony is fleeter than Janus, but Janus is the better horse. Why
should, I curse twenty poor, devils that I could name, because they are
mean ? They can't help it. The leopard cannot change his spots.

264 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Now, after all this philosophy, if it may be called such, do not
suppose that I raean to coraproraise with fraud, and falsehood, and
villany, in any shape. I only mean not to run a tilt against wind
mills or flocks of sheep. Yesterday I took a good long ride of eight
or nine miles, and am now going to do likewise. J. E. of B.
To the same. Saturday, January 14th, 1826.
Your letter of Thursday gives me very great relief: continue, I pray
you, to write, if it be but a line. I noted Giles's " discovery;" but,
this absurdity notwithstanding, it is a stinging piece. If he were not
himself " particeps criminis," he would touch upon the libel against
the whole West, in the case of John Smith, of Ohio ; and above all,
the suspension of the habeas corpus.
On the whole, I am flrmly persuaded that nothing but a paper,
such as he would manage (and the vocation is as creditable as school-
keeping), can arrest (if it can) the present current of affairs.
Your questions relating to the Senate I cannot (agreeably to our
rule) answer. As to Mr. M  , I did not know, until I heard it
from you, that he had been in the lachrymatory mood at all.
Poor Gilraer ! He is another of the countless victims of calomel.
I had indulged a hope that he would at least live to finish his life of
Fabricius, He told me sorae years ago, that if he survived rae he
meant to write a biography of me. But what he would have found
to say that is not in the newspapers, I cannot conjecture.
You are right to like the Ch. J.'s Madeira, or any body's, if it be
old and good. I ride every day from six to ten miles. A friend has
just told me that M.'s pathos excited great laughter in the House,
J. E. OF E.
To the same.
' Washington, January 30th, 1826.
Your letter of the 28th — Jam satis terris ni-vis. It began to snow
about an hour before day, and continues to fall fast and furious, re
minding me of schoolboy and snow-bird days, " departed, never to
return." I rode out yesterday sorae six or eight miles, and the day
before as far (when I paid my devoirs to Madame la Presidente, I
could do no less). I have even attended two days in the Senate, but
if ever man was dying, I am. It does not take more than one hour
for food, &c., to pass from my esophagus through the rectum, un
changed. This I have proved with various substances. The coffee
passes off (not by the bladder) without a change of hue or smell.
The least mental fatigue, above all, the jabber of Congress, prostrates
me. My old friend, Mr. M-- — . comes " to keep me company," with
the most amiable disposition in the world, and leaves me exhausted
and worn down. If some one would sit by and say nothing, I could
bear it ; but conversation — no, no, no. ^

NEGRO SLAVERY. 265
I have always believed that St. Thoraas of Cantingbury's jewels
were Bristol stones — in other words, that he was insolvent. What
else could be expected from his gimcracks and crack-brained notions
and " improvements ?" Ah ! that La Fayette business. Do you re
member my Cassandra voice from Paris, about the tirae of his em
barkation for the U. S. ? I am more and raore set against all new
things. I only wanted to know who C. G. was, because in the En
quirer, of October the 25th last, F. Key published an answer to him ;
I have seen neither. I am against all Colonization, &c., societies —
am for the good old plan of making the negroes work, and thereby
enabling the master to feed and clothe them wdl, and take care Of
them in sickness and old age. To the same.
Wednesday Mcxning, Februf.ry . st, 1826!
Yesterday we had a very interesting debate in the Senate, in which
I took part. I verily believe it assisted the deterraination of ray
disease to the surface, for I was never raore animated. A superficial
speech, you will say. Be that as it may, it drew upon rae a great
many handsome and flattering compliments ; and from one quarter,
my friend Benton (for I was on his side), I believe sincere. We dif
fered from the presiding officer upon what Mr. J. would call a
" speck" in the political horizon ; but it turned out to be of vital con
sequence as we probed it. It was laid over for mature consideration.
After the debate, and while some Indian treaties were being read,
Mr. C. sent for me, and said, that the question had assumed a new
and important aspect — ^required solemn consideration and decision —
my views were strong and iifiportant, &c., &c. He then sent for B.
and told him much the same. He electioneers with great assiduity.
Although it has no influence on the marked attention that I have re
ceived from him, yet the civilities of the palace have produced an
evident effect on the manner of some others towards your humble
servant. Indeed, since my call on Mrs. A (in return for her civility
while I was confined), M., of Massachusetts, who is the ear-trurapet
and mouthpiece of the palace in our House, has changed his de
meanor from (not " sweet") " austere composure" to officious cor
diality. Your letter of Monday — ^my God ! where will all this end ? It
will soon be disgraceful to be honest and pay one's debts. It is bit
ter cold, and I am suffering with it and erysipelas. Adieu !
, To the same.
Monday Morning, February 6, 1826.
Your letters are my only comfort : that of the 4th was brought in
just now on my breakfast tray. I can't help being sorry for that
poor man to whom you were called the morning you wrote, although
VOL. IL 12

266 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
he did, some twenty or thirty years ago (how time passesl) attempt
by a deep-laid scheme of to beggar a family that I was much
attached to; Cue, too, with which he was nearly connected, !ind that
he kept upon the most friendly terms with — his debts have floored
hira It is strange, passing sfraiige — people will get in debt; and
instead of working and starving out, they go on giving dinners, keep
ing carriages, and covering aching bosoins with smiling faces, gO
about greeting in the market-places, &e. I aWays think that I can
see the anguish under the grin and grimace, like old mother Cole's
dirty' flannel pCepittg out beneath her Brussel'S lace.' This killed
poor H. H,, and H f illirig like a slow poison all persons so circum
stanced, who possess principle or pride, I never See One of th6se
martyrs to false pride writhing under their own reflections, that I am
not in some degree reconciled to the physical fire that I carry in my
bosom. The man whom H-  's fall will probably prostrate, would
himself have been no better off than his principal, but for
speculation and a ludiy sale, just as the tide began to fall, a few
years ago.
I send you the "Citizen^" The schoolmaster writes better than
his employer. J. E. of E.
To the same. Monday, the 20th February, 1826.
For the first time during the last foUr or fi-pe days, I got a little
ride yesterday, sick as I was aiid am. I called on the Ch. J., and
told him what yOii said a,b6ut L,, and he joined me, in a hearty appro
bation of his refusal to become a candidate for the Assembly," or any
thing' else, until he shall have secured " a Competence, however mode
rate, without which no man can be independent, and hardly honest."
The words are Junius's to Woodfall, When he declined sharing any
part of the profits of his celebrated letters.'
I told him, also, of my firm and positive refusal to present tO the
Senate the petition of the Colonization Society, although earnestly
entreated to do so, by F. Key. That! thought the tendency of it
bad and mischievous; that a Spirit of nidrbid sensibility, religious
fanaticism, vanity, and the love of display," were the chief moving
causes of that society.
That true humiinity to "the slave was to make him* do a fair day's
work, and to treat him with all the kindness Compatible with due
subordination. By that means, the master could afford to clothe dnd
feed him well, and take care of him in sickness and old age ; while
the morbid sentimentalist could not do this. His slave was unpro
vided with necessaries, unless pilfered from his master's neighbors ;
because the owner could not furnish them out of the profits of the
negro's labor — there being none.- And at the master's death, the
poor slaves were generally sold for debt (because the philanthropist

NEGRO SLAVERY. ¦ 267
had to go to BANK, instead of drawing upon Ms cfop), and'were dis
persed from' Carolina to the Balize ; so that in the end the superfine
master turned out, like all other ultras, the worst that could' be for
the negroes. ;
This system of false indulgence, too, educates (I use the word in
its st^ct and true'meaning) all those pampered menial* who, sooner
or later, find their way to some Fulcher, the hand-cuffsf and the Ala-
bami negro trader's slttve-chain.^ How man-y such have I met within
the different *' coffles " (Mungo Park) of slaves that I had known living
on the fat of the land, and drest as well as their masters and mistresses:
I wished all the free negroes removed,'with their own consent,'out of the
slave States especially ; but that, frora the institution of the Passover
to the latest experience of man, it would be found, that no two dis
tinct people could occupy the sarae territory," under one government,
but in the relation of master and vassal. - ¦
The Ex;odus of the Jews was effected by the visible and miracu
lous interposition of the hand of God ; and that without the same
miraculous assistance, the Colonization Sociefeywould not remove the
tithe of the increase of the free blacks, while their proceedings and
talks disturbed' the rest of the slaves. Enough- enough, Eain—
sleet— drizzle. J, E, of E.'
1 To the same.
Monday morning, February 27th, 1826.
Gaillard died yesterday, at 4 o'clock, P. M. Although, on this
account, the Senate will transact no business to-day, yet, as I yester
day received from H, T, the sad news of his son's death, and have
Tazewell to keep up with -us, I can only acknowledge your letter of
this morning (written on Saturday). Poor Gilmer ! he is only gone
a little while before all that he loved or cared for. I am proud that
I was one of the number.
As Dr. says, "I take" what you say about V. B.'s " address.!'
I do assure you he has not warmed himself' into my good graces by
flattery; to. which, like all men, I am accessible, and perhaps more so
than men generally are, although I begin to think, that if they -go on
much longer- as they do at present, I shall, like Louis Quatorze, not
know when I am flattered. As to V. B. and myself, we have been a
little cool ; it was under that state of things that I mentioned him.
He has done our cause disservice by delay, in. the hope of getting
first Gaillard, then Tazewell (while he was sick here),'and since, while
absent- at Norfolk, and some other aid.: I was for action? knowing
that delay would only give time for the poison of -patronageptodo its
office. His extreme delicacy- upon all matters of money (upon which
he never bestows a thought),-having (as Junius says)- secured a-com-
petency however moderate, his scorn of debt- or -obligation, won him
first my good opinion. But if he has not, others have poured " the

268 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
leprous distilment into the porches of mine ears." The V. P. has
actually made love to me ; and my old friend, Mr. Macon, reminds
me daily of the old major, who verily believed that I was a nonesuch
of living men. In short, Friday's affair has been praised on all
bands, in a style that might have gorged the appetite of Cicero him
self Mr. M. returned on Saturday from Lloyd's (he gave a party on
that day, and had invited Mr. M. three times before, who had ex
cused himself), and asked roe if my face did not burn. I really did
not comprehend the question. It was a saying, when I was a boy, that
when backbitten the ears burned. He went on in a way that I shall
not repeat, as the sentiments of every man at table.
To the same.
March 4th, 1826 ; Washington, Saturday morn,, four o'clock.
I have been up an hour and a half, trying to kindle a fiic^ and have
at last succeeded. I cannot sleep. Death shakes his dart at me ;
but I do not, cannot fear him. He has already killed my friends — -
Gilmer — Tazewell. I fear that I shall never see the last again. The
first is removed for ever. This February and these ides of March
will live in future times, as the black year does yet in the North of
Europe — in Iceland particularly ; that it depopulated of its enligh
tened, virtuous, and pious inhabitants ; poor indeed, but pious and
good, and therefore happy ; happy as mortality can be. And what
is that? This cold black plague bas destroyed the only two men thats Vir
ginia has bred since the Bevolution, who had real claims to learning ;
the rest are all shallow pretenders ; tliey were scholars, and ripe and
good ones, and the soil was better than the culture. Here the mate
rial surpassed the workmanship, tasteful and costly as it was.
I had read "Burns and Byron" before I received the Compiler,
I ara a passionate adrairer of both. I shall not pretend to decide
between thera in point of genius. They were the most extraordinary
men that England and Scotland have produced since the days of Mil
ton and Napier of Merchiston, although there be no assignable rela
tion between logarithms and poetry. They are incommensurable.
Write ; but do not expect bulletins for some days. I have no
phthisis, nor fear of it. My cough is symptomatic, or sympathetic,
or some other " sym."
McNaught is not the only suicide, even in Eichmond. Now,
when too late, I am a confirmed toast-and-water man. My convivial
ities for fifteen years (1807-1822) are now telling upon me. If man
kind had ever profited even by their own experience ! Now that poor
Frank is gone, and cannot execute his threat of writing my life, I
would turn autobiographer. But he meant to dedicate to Tazewell !
That word, that name seems to petrify me. If living, blind like

LETTERS FROM ABROAD. 269
" Thamyris and blind Meonides," and like a greater than ihej — he
who achieved " things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme."
I am really ill ; the whole machine is rotten ; the nails and
screws that I drive will not take hold, but draw out with the decayed
wood. J. E. OF E.

CHAPTEE XXXIII.
LETTERS FROM ABROAD.
Early in May, before the adjournment of Congress, Mr. Eandolph
sailed from the Delaware Bay on his third voyage to Europe. He
arrived in Liverpool about the middle of June. " I have barely time
to tell you," says he to a friend, " that I had a very disagreeable pas
sage, finding B  n, the master of the Alexander, to be the most
conceited and insufferable tyrant of the quarter-deck that I ever saw,
and I have been to sea going on these three and forty years."
He remained in Liverpool for some time, enjoying the hospitali
ties of the place. "I am arrived in time for elections," says he.
" You will see a lame report of an aquatic excursion, in which I bore
a part, yesterday. Mr. Huskisson and Mr. John Bolton are just
arrived to take me to the Mayor's to dinner.'' Frora Liverpool Mr.
Eandolph travelled extensively in England, Wales, and on the Con
tinent. We are happy to have it in our power to allow him to speak
of those travels in his own words.
To Dr. Brockenbrough. HoLKHAM, Sunday, July l«th, 1826.
A month has now elapsed since I landed in England, during which
time I have not received a line from any friend, except Benton, who
wrote to me on the eve of bis departure from Babylon the Great to
Missouri. Missouri ! and here am I writing io the parlor of the New
Inn, at the gate of Mr. Coke's park, where art has mastered nature
in one of her least amiable moods. To say the truth, he that would
see this country to advantage must not end with the barren sands
and fiat infertile healths (strike out the I, I meant to write heaths)
of the east country, but must reserve the Vale of Severn and Wales
for a bonne bouche. Although I was told at Norwich that Mr Coke
was at home (and by a particular friend of his too), yet I find that

270 LISEiOS'.aQHN'RA'NDOLPH.
he and Lady Anne are gone to the vory.eis^remityjof this hage county
to a wool fair, , at Thetford, sixty-five miks ofi"!;;. and while my .com
panion, Mr. WilliamStiOf S,-C, (aon of Da,vid,E.;W.)i is gone to the
Hall, I am jfesolyed to bestow, if not ^f all," a part, at least of "my
tediousness" upon you. Tediousness, indeed, for what have I to
write about, unless to tell you that my health, so far from getting bet
ter, was hardly ever worse. Like the gallant General H., I am
"pursued by a diarrhoea" that confines me to my quarters, and may
deprive my native land of the "honor" of ray sepulchre. The mis
chief is, that in this age of fools and motions in Congress, my ashes
can have no security that some wiseacre may not get a vote (because
no one will oppose him through mere vis inertia and ennui), that my
•'remains" too raay be. removed to their parent earth.
Mr. Williams has been very attentive and kind to me. I have
been trying to persuade him to abandon me to the underwriters, as a
total losS( but be will not desert me ; so tha,t I meditate giving him
the slip for his own sake. We saw Dudley Inn and a bad race at
Newmarket on our way tO Norwich. There we embarked On the
river Yare, and proceeded to Yarmouth by the steam packet. We
returned to Norwich by. land, and by different routes; he by the
direct road, and I by Beccles, fifteen miles further; and yet I
arrived first. Through Lord Suffield's politeness, who gave me a
most hearty invitation to Gunton, I was enabled to see the Castle (now
the county jail) to the best advantage. His lordship is a great pri
son discipline financier, and was very polite to rae when I was in
England four years ago. I raet hira by mere accident at the inn at
Norwich, where the coach frora Beccles stopped.
A,t this distance of time and place, our last. winter's, squabbles,
over Panama itself, seem somewhat diminished in importance. Foi
my part if I can get rid of that constitutional disease, which eertain
circumstances brought on last winter with symptoms of great aggra
vation, I shall care very little about the -game, and nothing about them
that play it.
With some of these circumstances, you are unacquainted — the
chief one tyas the- long absence of my coadjutor, which flung upon
my shoulders a load that AtlaS could "not have upheld.
I See that Eitchie has -come out against rae. I looked for nothing
better. But why talk of such things. M. H. knows more than he
cares to tell, I was detained in town to attend the funeral 'of Mrs.
Marx of Croydon. She was a- charming woman, and her attention to
poor Tudor, on his death bed, laid me under heavier obligations
than this {equivocal) mark of respect to her memory can repay.
God willing, I shall return to the United States with- D&Costp who
leaves Iiiverpool on the 24th- of October,- in the York. It is possi
ble that I may be taken with a fit of longing to see Eoanoke,

LETTERS FROM ABROAD. 271
(where I heartily wish that I now could be) that may accelerate my
return. . , Meanwhile, you can have no conception of the pleasure that
a.. long gossiping letter, from you, could give me. . It would cheer
my exile, which is no more voluntary than thaj; of the Eomans, who
wore, forbiddenthe use of fire and water at, IlomCj and I was  but
I can't write now, for my heart is heavy to sadness. It well may be
so, -for it has not been kindly treated. God bless you both — I hope
that the experience of last year has not been thrown , away > upon you.
Here the climate has been alraost as bad as ours is in a favorable
summer. The drought has been unparalleled and the distress im
pending over the land, tremendous. A failure of the potato crop,
in Ireland, threatens to thicken the horrors of the picture. The
rainisters are not upon a " bed of roses." Musquitpes aboun.l here,
I have just killed a " gallinipper." , Adieu ! J. E. of E.
To the same.
The Hague, Tuesday, August 8, 1826.
" The Portfolio reached rae in safety." So rauch had I written
of a letter to you in London, but I was obliged to drop my pen in G.
Marx's compting-house, and here I ara, and at your service at the
Hague. My dear friend, I wish you could see, — and why can't you ?
for I wear a window in my breast — what is passing in my bosom
You could find there, thoughts black as hell soraetiraes, but nothing
of the sort towards any one of the few — the very few—who, like you,
have clung to rae, through good and eyil reports. What an ill star
red wretch have I been through life — a not uneventful life — and yet,
how truly blest have I been in my friends ; not one, no, not one has
ever Isetrayed me, whom I have admitted into my sanctum sancto
rum. Bryan, Benton, Eutledge — let me not forget hira, whom I
knew before either of the others, although for the last thirty years
we have met but once. The last letter that I received on my depar
ture from Washington, was from him. In the late election, he was
the warm supporter of General J., whom he personally knew and es
teems ; and I' confess that the testimony of one whom I have known
intimately for raore than six and thirty years, to be sans peur et sans
reproehe, and who is an observer and an excellent judge of mankind,
weighs as it ought to weigh with me, in favor of the veteran. I
know him (Genl. J.), to be a man of strong and vigorous mind, of
dignified deportment, and is, I believe, omnifcenoresolatus. I think
this is no small matter. In the olden time, when credit existed, be
cause there was real capital, a man in debt — I raean a landed man
in debt — might be trusted. But not so now, for reasons that are cu
rious and amusing ; which (were I to, state them) would cause this
letter to run into an essay on the progress of society, that would re
quire quires instead of pages.

272 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
In ray passage from London I met with a serious accident, that
might have been fatal. We broke our engine, and when the pilot
boarded us, I was desirous to get on board of his boat ; to do this,
I had to cross the quarter-deck. The sky-light of the ladies' cabiti
was open, but {2Mur biens(ance) the "orifice" was covered with our
colors, and the grating being removed only about 1 8 inches, a com
plete pit-fall or trap was made, into which I fell, and my right side,
immediately below the insertion of the false ribs into the spine, was
" brought up by the combings of the sky-light" I lay for some mi
nutes nearly senseless, and it was raore than an hour before I could
be moved from the deck. My whole side, xidncy and liver, are very
much affected. It has obliged me to suspend my course of Swain's
Panacea, upon which I entered a few days before I left London.
I have not seen Mr. Gallatin. Mr. John A. King, our charga
d'affaires, was very polite to me. We met on neutral ground, at the
Traveller's Club-House, in Pall Mall, No. 49.
I am pleased with Holland. Cleanliness here becomes a virtue.
My companion's, Mr. Win's passport wanting some formularies, and
our cliargi (Mr. C. Hughes ! oh for some of Giles' notes of admira
tion ! ! ! !) not being present, Sir Charles Bagot has been good enough
to do the needful. I waited upon him in Mr. Wm's behalf and was
received by him with the greatest warmth, asked to dine en familie,
(as I leave the Hague to-morrow for Leyden), and told that any let
ters brought to dinner would be forwarded by his courier to London.
To him, therefore, I am obliged for a conveyance for this.
Apropos to Giles. I think I know hira to the bottora, if he has
any bottom. I know also the advantages that will be taken of me,
the formidable array of enemies that I have to encounter. I might
have neutralized some of them; but as Bonaparte said on another
occasion, " it is not in my character " Whatever may be the decision
of the "V"irginia Asserably on ray case, I shall always say that a ca
pricious change of her public agents has never been the vice of the
Governraent or the people of Virginia, and that whenever a raan is
dismissed frora the service of either, it is strong presumptive evi
dence {prima facie) of his unfitness for the place.
I hope, however, that no report of my speeches will be taken as
evidence of what I have uttered, for I have never seen any thing
further frora a just representation than the report of one that G. and
S. say I in part revised, and so I did, and if they had jjrinted it by
their own proof-sheet now in London, I should have been better sa
tisfied with that part; the first, that I did not revise, is mangled and
hardly intelligible even to me. The warning, which they make rae
give to my friend frera Missouri, is to poor little Miles of Mass., and
tbe whole affair is as much bedevilled as if they had at random picked
out every other word. So rauch for that. — Neither Gales (whom I
solicited) nor Seaton took down my speeches.

LETTERS FROM ABROAu. 273
Your intelligence about the election, about W. S. A., and W. E.
J., and W. B. G., was highly gratifying. I hope that my initials are
intelligible to you, for your Miss S,, upon whom you say Mr. M. D,
was attending, is une inconnue a, moi. I did not know that you had
any Eichmond .Belles, of whora the Beaux could say, " I love ray love
with an S., because," &c., &c.
Poor Stephenson, I think, has no daughter, or child, even, Eemem
ber me kindly to him and'the Lord Chief, and do not forget my best
love and duty to raadarae. Tell her, and mark it yourself, that you
at home may and can write long gossiping letters, but a man at the
end of a journey, harassed by a valet de place, and commissionaire
pour le passeporte, has no stomach but for his coffee an 1 bed. Such
is my case (this day excepted, and even to-day I am a good deal wea
ried by a jaunt to Scheveling, and Mr. Wm's business), and such has
it been since I set my foot on the quay at Liverpool.
And so old Mr. Adaras is dead ; on the 4th of July, too, just half
a century after our Declaration of Independence ; and leaving his son
on the throne. This is Euthenasia, indeed. They have killed Mr.
Jefferson, too, on the sarae day, but I don't believe it
Great news from Turkey. That country is either to be renovated
as a great European power, or it is to be blotted from the list of na
tions, at least on this side the Hellespont. It is a horse raedicine
now in operation. It will kill or cure,
I am sensible that this letter is not worth sending across the At
lantic. But what am I to do ; you expect me to write.
Pray, has the Enquirer come out against rae, I see soraething that
looks like it in the raatter of Mr. D., of M  s. Le vrai n'est pas tou
jours le vraisemblable. There is a dessous de cartes there, that is not
understood. But who does really understand any thing ? The En
glish know us only through the medium of New- York and Yankee news
papers, and which is worse, through the Yankees themselves.^ The only
Virginia papers that I saw at the North and South Araerican Coffee
House, were the Norfolk Beacon, ditto Herald, and Richmond Whig.
They don't take the Enquirer. What a pretty notion they must
have of us in Virginia. Adieu for the present.
To the same.
Pall Mall, Sept. 22, 1826. Friday.
I write because you request me to do so ; but really, ray deal
friend, I have nothing to tell you, that you may not find in the news
papers ; and they are as dull and as empty as the town. They who
can take pleasure in the records of crime, may indeed find amuse
ment in Bow Street and other criminal reports. It is now agreed on
all hands, that misery, crime and profligacy are in a state of rapid
and alarming increase. The Pitt and paper system (for although he
VOL. n. 12*

274 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
did not -begin it, yet he brought it to its last stage of im-pcrfection),
is now developing features that "fright the isle from its- propriety."
Your letter reached me in Paris, where I was in a measure com
pelled to go, in consequence of my having inca,utiously set my foot in
that huge man-trap,, France., I had; there neither time nor opportu
nity to answer it, and now I have not power to do it. The dinner
to.M. does, I .confess, not a little surprise me. I know not what to
think, of these times, and of the state of things in our country. . The
vulgarity and calumny of the press I could put up with, if I could
see any tokens of that ina,nly straight-forward spirit and manner
that once distinguished Virginia,. Sincerity and truth are so far out
of fashion that nobody now-a-days seems to expect them in the inter
course of life. But I am becoming, censorious^an.d, hpw can I help
it, in this canting iand speaking age, wherethe very children are made
to cry or laugh as, a well-drilled recruit. shoulders or grounds his fire
lock, I dined yesterday with Mr. Marx. It was a private party— -and
took additional cold. This morning my expectoration is quite bloody,
but I do not apprehend that it comes frora the lungs. It is disagree
able, however, not only in itself, but because I have proraised my
Lord Chief Justice Best to visit him at his seat in, Kent, and another
gentleraan, also, in the sarae couiity ; " invicta," " unconquered Kent."
Mr. Marx has shipped ray winter clothing to his brother. By this
time you will be thinking of a return to Eichmond ; and before this
reaches you, I hope that you and madame will be restored to the com
forts of your own, fireside, where, I mean to come and tell you of ray
travels. . God bless you "both. J. E. of E.
To the same. Pall Mall, October 13, 1826.
•Another packet has arrived, and no letter for me. The last that
I received from you was (in Paris) dated July How is this, my
good friend ? you, who know how I yearn for intelligence from the
other side of the- Atlantic, and that I have no one to give it to me
but yourself
Mr, W; J. Barksdale writes his father, that a run will be made
at me by G  s, this winter On this subject, I can only repeat
what I have said before — that, when the Commonwealth of Virginia
dismisses a servant, it is strong presumptive evidence of his unfit
ness for the station. If it shall apply to my own case, I cannot help
it,. But I should have nothing to wish on this subject, if the As
sembly could be put in pgssession of a tolerably faithful account of
what. I have said and done- I have been, systematically and indus
triously misrepresented., I had determined to devote this last sum
mer to a revision of ray speeches, but my life would have paid the
forfeit, ha,d, I persist,ed in that determination. Many of the misropre-

HIS DEFEAT FOR THE SENATE. 275
soutations proceed from the f ineffable stupidity'! of the reporters, but
some must, I think, be intentional. Be that, as it may, the mangled
limbs of Medea's children, were as much like the living creations as
the disjecta membra of my speeches resemble what I really did say.
In raost instances ray meaning has been mistaken. In some it has
been reversed. If I live, I will set this matter right. So jmuch for
Ego. I see that Peyton E. advertises his land on  Eiv.er. This
was tho last of my name and race left whom I would go and seo.
The ruin is no doubt complete. Dr, Archer has " resumed the prac
tice of the bar ;" ami poor Mrs, Tabb, by the death of Mrs, Coupland,
is saddled with two more helpless grand-children. She is the best
and noblest oreature living ; and I pray^ God: that I may live once
more to see her — ^^a true specimen of the old .Virginia matron.
On the 24th, God willing, I. depart with DeCost, in the York.
My health is by no means so good as it has been since ray arrival on
this side the Atlantic ; but I have made up my mind to endure life
to the last.
My best.regards to Mr. and Mrs. Eootes. I exerted myself to
see her proteges, Jane and Marianna Bell, but they were at Earas-
gate, out of my reach. Mr. Barksdale talks of returning to Virginia
next autumn. I fear that he will put it off till it is too late.
Town is erapty, and I live a complete herrait, in London. If you
see the English newsps^pers, you will see what a horrible state of so
ciety exists in. this strange country, where one class is dying of
hunger and another with surfeit. The amount of crime is fearful;
and cases of extrerae atrocity are not wanting. The ministry will
not find themselves upon a bed of roses when Parliament meets.

CHAPTEE XXXIV.
HIS DEFEAT FOB THE SENATE.
At the opening of Congress, in December, 1826, Mr. Eandolph took
up his winter quarters at his old lodgings, Dowson's, No. 2, on Capi
tol Hill. His health was extremely bad during the winter. Almost
his only companion, was his old and tried friend, Mr. Macon, of
North Carolina — a man whose matured wisdom, simplicity of man
ners, and integrity of character, distinguished him as the admired
relict of a purer age, and the venerable patriarch of, a new genera-

276 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
tion. How pleasant it is to look into the quiet parlor of those two
remarkable men ! While the busy and anxious politicians were hold
ing their secret conclaves, and plotting the means of self-advance
ment, they sat, whole hours together, in the long winter nights, keep
ing each other company. In silence they sat and mused, as the fire
burned. Each had his own private sorrows and domestic cares to
brood over ; both felt the weight of years pressing upon them, and
still more, the wasting hand of disease. They had long since learned
to look upon the honors of the world as empty shadows, and to
value the good opinion of the wise and good more than the applause
of a multitude. Nothing but the purest patriotism, an ardent de
votion to their country and her noble institutions, could hold them to
the discharge of their unpleasant duties, while every admonition of
nature warned thera to lay aside the harness of battle, and be at
rest What eventful scenes had they passed through I Side by side
they stood and beheld the young eagle plume hiraself for fiight, and
mount into the sky, with liberty and universal emancipation inscribed
on his star-spangled banner. With anxious eye they saw him plunge
into the dark clouds, and battle with the storms, and hailed him' with
delight as he emerged from the perils that encompassed his path, and
glanced his outspread wing in the sunbeams of returning day, and
wafted himself higher and still higher in his ethereal fiight.
But now, behold ! in raid-career a mortal foe encounters him in
fiercest battle — " An eagle and a serpent wreathed in fight 1" — and
like the maiden on the sea-shore did they watch, with suppressed
heart, " the event of that portentous fight."
" Around, around, in ceaseless circles wheeling.
With clang of wings and screams, the Eagle sailed
Incessantly — sometimes on high, concealing
Its lessening orbs — sometimes, as if it failed,
Dropp'd through the air ; and still it shrieked and wailed,
And casting back its eager head, with beak
And talon unremittingly assailed
The wreathed Serpent, who did ever seek
Upon his enemy's heart a mortal wound to wreak.
¦' "What life, what power, -vriCa kindled and arose
Withia the sphere of that appalling fray !

HIS DEFEAT FOR THE SENATE. 277
Swift changes in that combat — many a check,
And many a change, a dark and wild turmoil -,
Sometimes the Snake around his enemy's neck
Lock'd in stiff rings his adamantine coil,
Until the Eagle, faint with pain and toil,
Remitted his strong flight, and near the sea
Languidly flutter'd, hopeless so to foil
His adversary, who then rear'd on high
His red and burning crest, radiant with victory.
" Then on the white edge of the bursting surge,
Where they had sunk together, would the SnaKo
Relax his suffocating grasp, and scourge
The wind with his wild writhings ; for to break
That chain of torment, the vast bir4 would shake
The strength of his unconquerable wings,
As in despair, and with his sinewy neck,
Dissolve in sudden shock those linked rings.
Then soar, as swift as smoke from a volcano springs.''
So may our country, like her noble symbol, triuraph over every
enemy ! So may she shake the strength of her unconquerable wings,
and dissolve, in sudden shock, the adamantine coil of that wreathed
serpent that now seeks upon her heart a mortal wound to wreak !
After this manner, we may suppose that those venerable sages,
seated by their solitary fireside, looked back on the rapid career of
their country — its dangers and triumphs of past years, in which they
had participated — and meditated with awe and trembling on the
many difficulties that now beset her path. What a treasure of wis
dom, could those meditations have been embodied in words, and
handed down for our instruction ! But a faint glimmering of what
passed in the mind of one of those men, may be found in the letters
st the close of this chapter.
Mr. Ea,ndolph continued faithful in the discharge of his duties in
the Senate, He rarely opened his mouth during the session, but
made it a point never to miss a vote. He suffered martyrdom during
many a tedious and protracted debate ; but, however painful, he
never abandoned his post when action was required.
But his enemies would not allow the old Comraonwealth of Vir
ginia long to be honored by the services, and adorned by the illus
trious character, of her most devoted and faithful son. Too faithful
in his devotion, she again was made to deal out to him his accustomed
reward — " a step-son's portion."

278 LIFE OP JOHN RANDOLI'H." >
Mr Eandolph's doctrine was too stern, abstemiotts, add unpalata
ble to the lovers and the parasites of power. His restrictive system
had grown obsolete. Lulled in the lap of prosperity, the people had
ceased to listen to his warning voice. Too often had he repeated to
unwilling ears, " that the inevitable tendency of this system, by even
a, fair exercise of the powers of the Federal Government, has a cen
tripetal force — the centrifugal force not being silfficierit to overcome
it ; and at every periodic revolution, we are drawing nearer and
nearer to the final extinguishment that awaits us." They ceased to
listen to him, or returned such answer as was given to the prophets
of old : Are not things now as thoy were before, and have always
been? then hush your babblings, and disturb not the people with
your idle prophecies.
Even in his native State, that had beeii the standard-bearer of the
doctrine of State-rights, he now found, to his mortification, a woful
degeneracy. In the days of Hamilton and the elder Adams, when
the centripetal force of the Federal Government, by an intense over-
action, was rapidly hurrying the system to its final catastrophe, the
counterpoise of Virginia, almost alohe, restored the rightful balance,
and gave it onCe more an onward' and harmonious raoveraent. But
now, in these latter days, when the legitimate successors of old fede
ralism, under a new narae, were in the ascendent, the position of Vir
ginia in regard to them was not merely doubtful, but she was about to
throw her whole weight On the side of centralism, by rejecting from
her councils the only raan that could arreSt the rapid tendencies of
the Government in that direction. From 1800 to the present time,
there had beCn scarcely a show of opposition in Virginia to the con
servative States-rights doctrine of George Mason and Thomas Jef
ferson. But during the " era of good feelings," and the undisturbed
repose of Mr. Monroe's administration, the pernicious doctrines of a
contrairy school had been widely disseminated. And now that the
eleraents of party strife were again set in motion, mainly through the
exertions of Mr. Eandolph himself; now that the great fountains of
the political deep were broken up, and men were struggling to re-form
themselves around' some fixed principles, according to their natural
affinities, without regard to former associations, which had long since
been obliterated, it was discovered that the old federalism of John
Adams, newly baiptiSied, had numerous and powerful friends in a land

HIS DEt'EAT FOR THE 'SENATE. 279
whereit oould never have- flourished under- its original" name. Many
who were the followers of Mr. JefferSoii, and Still professed his doc
trine when' applied to the alien and Sedition law, adopted the Ameri
can system in all its parts. Bank, protective tariff, internal improve
ment' by the Federal Government, and political alliances with foreign
republlcs^^which system could only be supported by the same doc
trine that justified those obnoxious laws.
Mr. Eandolph did not spare those men. Neither ige nor sta
tion could escape his burning indignation. He knew them all^ — their
history, both public and private — his denunciations were often bitter,
personal, and sometimes insulting.
This drew upon him not oiily a political, but a rancorous and unre
lenting personstl opposition. Old reminiscences were revived, and
many sought to "wreak their vengeance upOn him for wounds inflict
ed in days lofig goUe by ; ih.stead of yielding their private feelings to
the public good, they preferred the unholy incense of personal re
venge to the rich oblation of a self-sacrifice on the altar of their
country. But Mr. Eandolph, after all, could not be defeated without taking
some man from his own ranks, who could carry off some personal
friends to his support. Mr. Floyd, Mr. Giles, and others of the Ee
publican party, were spOken of as his competitors. During all this
excited canVaSS, in which so much personal and bitter feeling was per
mitted to enter, Mr. Eandolph remained calm and unmoved. New
Year's day he writes to his friend. Dr. Brockenbrough :
"I am greatly obliged to Mr. May and my other friends and sup
porters : but no occasion has yet presented itself, on which I could,
with' propriety, have said any thing ; and to be making one, would, I
think, be unworthy of .ray character and station. The fabrications
of my eii'emies, I cannOt help. I can only say that there exists
not the slightest foundation for thera. I feel, perhaps, too keenly for
the state of the country. I have (as who has not?) my own private
sorrows ; and I have participated in the deep affliction of my poor
brother. , If it be any crime to be grave, I plead guilty to the charge,
but, at the same time, thank heaven ! I feel myself to be calm, com
posed and self-possessed. To pretend indifference to the approach
ing election, would be the height of affectation and falsehood — but, go
how it may, I trust that I sha,ll'bear 'myself under success or defeat,
in a manner that my friends will not disapprove, I have ever looked
up to Virginia, as to a mother, whose rebukes' livas bound to receive

280 L'IFE of JOHN RANDOLPH.
with filial submission ; and no instance of her displeasure, howevoi
severe, shall ever cause me to lose sight of my duty to her."
At length an available candidate was found in the person of Mr.
Tyler, then Governor of the State.
When the friends of Mr. Eandolph learned that he was to be op
posed by that gentleman, they addressed him a note, the 18th Janu
ary, 1827, in which they say — "We understand that the friends of
the Administration and others will support you for the Senate in op
position to Mr. Eandolph, We desire to understand destinctly,
whether they have your consent or not."
Mr. Tyler replied — " My political opinions on the fundamental
principles of the Governraent, are the sarae as those espoused by Mr.
Eandolph, and I admire him most highly, for his undeviating attach
ment to the Constitution, manifested at all tiraes, and through all the
events of a long political life ; and if any man votes for me under a
different persuasion, he most grievously deceives hiraself You ask
me whether I have yielded my consent to oppose him. On the contrary,
I have constantly opposed rayself to all solicitations." Mr. Tyler,
however, was run against Mr. Eandolph, and was successful in defeat
ing him. With what magnaniraity Mr. Eandolph bore this defeat,
and how cheerfully he subraitted to the rebuke, coming from his
native State — venerated and beloved, with all her unkindness, may be
seen frora the following letters, addressed to Dr. Brockenbrough, that
range frora the first of January, to the close of Congress.
Wednesday, Jan. 3, 1827.
Yesterday I had the gratification of seeing my old friend Mr.
Macon elected to the Presidency of the Senate. He had not a
single vote to spare. I apprehend that he owed his election chiefiy
to the absence of Chambers of Maryland, who had gone to the eastern
shore, and who arrived from Baltimore not ten minutes after Mr. M.
had taken the chair. Mr. Silsbee of Massachusetts voted for him.
So did Mr. Noble of Indiana, and H. of Ohio. The other vote, I con
jecture, was given by Mr. Mills, for one of our side (King) was also
absent, although it was not generally known. This is the greatest
and almost the only gratification that I have received here. It waa
altogether unexpected. Friday, Jan. 5, 1827-
I write, although I have nothing in the world to say. Yester
day letters were received stating that P. P. B. would receive the vote
of the administration men, notwithstanding his refusal to be nomina-

HIS DEFEAT FOR THE SENATE. 281
ted by them. I wish with all my heart the thing was decided one
way or other ; although I am sensible that the precipitation of one of
my friends on a former occasion did mischief. I have neither the
right nor the will to dictate, but to you (who are not a member) I can
say that ray present situation is far from being agreeable. General
Smythe has not at all disappointed me — he has acted magnanimously
and like a patriot, I looked for such a course from him — I neverr
had a feeling of enmity against him — nothing ever passed between
us, beyond a single spar. Sunday mori-ing, Jan. 7, 1827,
Mr, Macon is highly gratified at your mention of him, I could
not resist the inclination to' show him that part of your letter, Heis
to me, at this time, a treasure above all price ; but that consideration
apart, he richly deserves every sentiment of respect and veneration
that can be felt for his character.
The news here is that the administration folks are chuckling at the
prospect of my discomfiture. They are, or affect to be, in high spir
its upon that subject. It must be confessed that my situation is
awkward enough. Monday morning, Jan. 8, 1827.
Your letters and Mr. Macon's society are ray greatest resources
against the miserable life we lead here. Tazewell tells me that he is
well convinced that the article in question was written here. Mr.
Macon, who reads the paper to his daughter, flung it into the fire
with great indignation. I cannot understand Mr. E.'s reasons, and
therefore they cannot be satisfactory to me, although no doubt they
are perfectly so to himself.
Poor old S. will, I think, be re-elected. His masters have shaken
the whip over him to secure his future unconditional obedience.
This morning was ushered in by a salute of cannon. A great
dinner is to be eaten in honor of the day. Mr. M. and I foreswore
public dinners ever since one that we gave Monroe in 1803, on his
departure for France. Consequently, neither of us go. The day is
wet and dirty, if there be such a word, and we shall lose nothing by
staying at home.
I should like very well to see the antique you, raention. It ought
to be preserved with care. How little, in fact, do we know of our
early history. Perhaps there was nothing to tell ; but all the plan
tations seem to have been considered as a terra_ incognita^ by the
mother country. .1 am sorry for what you raention respecting Mr
M., of F'k. But it can't be helped. Friday morning, Jah. 12, 1827.
Another mail, and no letter from you. I can't help feeling anxious
and uneasy.

282 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
My old friend is a good deal better ; but I, after many days of
premonition, frora pains in the right side, &c., have had a very sraart
attack. My constitution is so worn out that it can resist nothing,
and cannot recover itself as it once could. It seeras to be the pre
vailing opinion here that the friends of the powers that be are some
what despondent. Pennsylvania they say has given the most deci
sive indications of her adherence to Jackson, The dinner, although
tho military men slunk away from it, was attended by a formidable
array of adversaries.
The weather is excessively gloomy, and sheds its malign influence
upon ray spirits. I can't read, and ray old friend's cough is excited
by talking ; so we sit, and look at the fire together, and once in
half an hour some remark is raade by one or the other,
Saturday, .Tan, 13, 1827,
Your letter of Thursday gives me rauch relief, although it con
tains intelligence of a very unpleasant nature. I allude to the publi
cation you mention. I know that such things — to one especially not
at all inured to thera — are raost unpleasant ; but I trust that the ira-
pudent excuse of the printer will not be entirely thrown away, for it
is as true as it is sharaeless. My gOod friend, I have long been of
the opinion, that we are fast sinking into a state of society the raost
loathsome that can be presented to the imagination of an honorable
man. Things, bad as they are, have not yet reached the lowest deep.
If I had health and strength, I think that I would employ a portion
of them in an inquiry into the causes that propel us to this wretched
state. Why is it that our system has a uniform tendency to bring
forward low and little men, to the exclusion of the raore worthy? I
have seen the operation of this machine from the beginning. The
character of every branch of the Government has degenerated. In
point of education and manners, as well as integrity, there has been
a frightful deterioration every where. In this opinion I am sup
ported by the experience of one of the most sagacious and observing
men, himself contemporary with the present system frora the com
mencement. My dear friend, I cannot express to you the thousandth
part of the disgust and chagrin that devour rae. When I landed at
New- York the complexion of the public journals made rae blush for
the country. There was a respectable foreigner, mjr fellow-passen
ger, and I thought I could see the dismay which he attempted to con
ceal, at certain matters that passed, as things of course, in one of the
first boarding-houses in that city. To me, the prospect is as cheer
less and desolate as Greenland. Yourself, and one or two others,
separated by vast distances and execrable roads, form here and there,
as it were, an oasis in the Sahara. My soul is " out of taste," as
people say of their mouths after a fever. I dream of the snow-cap
ped Alps, and azure lakes and waterfalls, and villages, and spires of

HIS DEFEAT FOR THE SENATE. 283
Switzerland, and I awake to a scene of desolation such as one raight
look to find in Barbary or upper Asia. But the morale, as the
French would say, is worse than the physique and the materiel. I
reraeraber well when a raeraber of Congress was respected by others
and by himself But I cannot pursue this theme.
The Government is as you describe it to be. They have nearly
monopolized the press ; and if the opposition prints lend themselves
to their views the cause is hopeless. However, such is the growing
conviction of their depravity, that I believe the people will throw
them off at the next election. I shall expect your letters, of course,
with eagerness. Yours truly, J. E, vV E.
Sunday morning, January 14, 182T.
Your letter of Friday is just received. The artifices resorted to
are worthy of the tools of such an administration as ours. By this
time to-morrow I shall know the result. Be it what it may, it will
exercise a very decisive infiuence over what may reraain of my life ^
come. Success I know cannot elate rae, and I hope that defeat will
not depress me : but I have taken a new view of life, of public life
especially ; and if I am not a wiser and a better man for my last
year's experience, you may pronounce me an incorrigible, irreclaim
able fool.
Yesterday Mr. Chief Justice paid me a very friendly visit His
manner said more than his words. I am not vain but proud of the
distinguished marks of regard which I have received on many occa
sions from this truly good and great man. t)ur conversation was
interrupted by the unexpected and undesired visit of another person.
Yours truly, J. E. of E.
Friday, January 19, 1827.
Your most welcome letter of Wednesday is just now received.
Every syllable in the way of anecdote is gratifying in a high degree.
My first impression was to resign. There were, notwithstanding,
obvious and strong objections to this course ; my duty to ray friends,
the giving of a handle to the charges of my enemies that I was the
slave of spleen and passion, and many more that I need not specify.
There was but one other course left, and that I have taken, not with
out the decided approbation of my colleague, and many other friends
here. I find, too, that it was heartily desired by my enemies that I
should throw up my seat. They even propagated a report on Mon
day, that I had done so in a rage, and left the city. Numerous
concurring opinions of men of sense and judgment, who have had no
opportunity of consulting together, have reached me, that fortify me
in the line of conduct that I have taken. Nothing, then, remains but
a calm and dignified submission to the disgrace that has been put
upon me [his ejection from the Senate], It is the best evidence that
I can give my friends of the sense which I feel, and will for ever
cherish, of their kind and generous support. J. E. of E.

284 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH. Saturday, January 20, 1827.
" Bore me ?" Your letter has become more necessary to me than
my breakfast ; and it is almost as indispensable for me to say a few
words to you upon paper, as soon as I have finished it. It consists
of a cup of tea and a cracker, without butter, which I never touch.
My constitution is shaken ; nerves gone, and digestive powers almost
extinct. I look forward to hopeless misery. As to a " firm and dig
nified" discharge of my duty, I hope that I shall be equal to it, so fer
as attendance and voting goes. I can't go farther, because I am
unable. What I shall do with myself I am at a loss to conjecture.
I have already found the solitude of Eoanoke insupportable. With
worse health, and no better spirits, how can I endure it ? But too
much of this egotism.
I would give not a little to know the rep.y of Mrs. B. to *-he
meraber in question. The tear shed by her eyes for my defeat is
more precious in my own than the pearl of Cleopatra. I beseech
you not to omit writing whenever you can. 1 require all the *ime
that you can bestow upon me. Except Mr. M., I am desolate.
Sunday morning, February 11. 1827.
I have not written as usual, because 1 alraost made it a matter of
conscience to oppress you with my gloom. I have never been more
entirely everwhelmed with bad health and spirits. I look forward
without hope, and almost without a wish, to recover. What can be
more cheerless and desolate than the latter days that are left to rae?
I am, however, relieved from- one apprehension— the fear of surviving
all who may Care for me. I feel that this can hardly be, for withou*
some almost rairaculous change in a worn-out constitution, I shall
hardly get through the year. The thoughts of returning here tor-
raent and harass rae by day and by night. Little do you even
know of the character and composition of the House. If I were even
able to exert myself, I should never obtain the floor. The speech
which I made on the tariff was owing to a waiving of the right of
another to speak. I feel that my public life ought to terminate with
this session of Congress. These thoughts are for you, and you alone.
I have risen from a sleepless bed to give utterance to them.
1 saw the V. P. yesterday. He is in good spirits ; he is sustained
by a powerful passion. For my part, I am far from thinking a seat
in the S. very desirable, although, certainly, to be preferred to any
other position in this Government. If I could have done it with pro
priety, I should not have hesitated to retire voluntarily from mine.
Wednesday, Feb. 14, 1827.
Yesterday the Senate gave no equivocal evidence on behalf of
the woollen bill from the other House. Mv colleague is, I think,
more disgusted and wounded than I am. We are bound hand and
foot, and the knife is at our throat. There is no help but from tha

HIS DEFEAT FOR THE SENATE. 285
people through the State Legislatures. We are sold before our faces
in open market. Thui-eday, Feb. 15, 1827.
The V. P. has pressed me very warmly to take a seat in his car
riage, which will travel the direct road by Carter's Ferry. This temp
tation is a very strong one in my present feeble condition. A plea
sant companion, easy stages, and exemption from all the cares of a
journey that will bring me to my own door. But then I shall not
see you. This consideration would determine me to forego his invita
tion if I could see you and one or two others without bustle in a
quiet way. But I take it that the close of a session of Assembly is
(like one in Congress) as the last days of a long voyage.
Among my afflictions and privations, I cannot read. I have abso
lutely lost ail taste for reading of every sort, except the letters of my
friends. Books, once a necessary of life, have no longer a single
charm for me. How this has happened I know not ; but it is so I
should not talk so eternally of myself if I felt at lilserty to speak of
other people : I do not raean in the way of censure, but in any way.
I think I see a great dea^ more than meets the usual eye ; but then
I raay be mistaken. Of one thing I am certain, that nothing can
surpass the disgust of my colleague. His countenance speaks volumes.
Indeed I cannot blame hira. I know that there is nothing in this
thing that, from its length, seems a letter ; but I can't help it. Adieu
to you both. Saturday, February 17, 1827.
Your last -was dated this day week. Yesterday we had no mail
in consequence of the storm of Thursday, That storm nearly demo
lished me. I took a violent cold at the door of the Senate waiting
until two hackney coaches could disengage themselves from a jam,.
I have since been much worse, I hope to get a line from you to-day,
I mentioned to you the V, P.'s invitation to acco&pany him. You
will think me a strange, inconsistent creature, when I tell you that I
am at a loss what to do. Home I must go ; and yet for rae home has no
charms. I think of its solitude, which I can no longer relieve by
field-sports, or books, and my heart dies within me. Stretched on a
sick-bed, alone, desolate, cheerless. I must devise some other plan,
and I want to see you and consult you about it. You, see what little
m-ercy my querulous selfishness has upon you.
The prospect here is far from brightening. I know others, and
abler men than rayself, who think differently ; but they take counsel
of their hopes and wishes. I, who have neither to bias me, can see
more plainly, with weaker vision. Not that I am at all indifferent
j[far frora it) to the question of change of the bad and corrupt men at
tbe head of our affairs. I allude to wishes of a different sort
What you say about the spirit of tbe times and the state of soci-

285 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
ety, has " often and over" occurred to me, I Want to be at rest ;
with Gray's prophetess, I cry put " leave rae, leave me to repose !" I
ara almost as well convinced that I shall not live twelve months, aa
twelve times twelve, and I wish to die in peace. My best love to
Mrs. B. God bless you both, my dear friends. Wednesday, Feb. 21, 1827.
I have omitted for some days to bore you with my querulous
notes, because I knew that you had better use for your time than to
read them. And now, that I have taken up my pen, what shall I
say ? Still harp upon the old string ? My good friend, you will, I
am sure, bear with my foolishness. I am incapable of business. I
have not been so sensible of the failure of my bo-iily powers since
1817, when you saw me at Mr. Cunningham's ; and in my dreary and
desolate condition I naturally turn to you.
My view of things in Eichmond coincided with your own, t>efore
I knew what your impressions were. I think that I shall make my
escape, with the V. P., via Cartersville. It is the very road that I
travelled here, and is the obvious way back again.
J shall have again to attend a six hours' sitting to-day. It abso
lutely murders me. The H. of E. sat late last night. Mr. Eives
gained great, and I believe deserved praise. Mr. Archer passed a
severe rebuke upon one of his colleagues from beyond the Blue
Eidge, who spoke very irreverently, 'tis said, of his native State.
I fear that when we do meet, I shall teaze you to death with my
egotism. A man with a tooth-ache thinks only of his fang. I am
become the most inert and indolent of creatures. I want-to get into
port. Nothing would suit me so well as an annuity, and nothing to
do. You see how selfish I ara. But all ray selfishness vanishes when
I think of you. God bless you both. Adieu. Thursday, Feb. 22, 1827.
General S. Smith, of Maryland, made a very strong speech yes
terday on the colonial trade bill and the report accompanying it. He
exposed, without reserve, the ignorance and incapacity of our cabi
net, and particularly of the Secretary of State ; and pointed out
many manifest errors in the bill and report, between which he show
ed more than one instance of discrepancy. His speech was so much
approved that a subscription for its publication was immediately set
on foot and filled. I think it will have great effect on the public
opinion. I listened to it with great attention, and after he had con-
eluded, the old gentleman came and thanked me for it. He said that
my occasional nods of assent to what he said was a great support to
him, and enabled him to get through with what he had to say with
more animation and effect than he had anticipated. The applause
bestowed upon him by very many members of the Senate, seemed to
warm the old man's heart.

HIS DEFEAT FOR THE SENATE. 287
Friday, Feb, 23, 1827,
Yesterday we adjourned rauch earlier than usual, on the motion
of Mr, Johnson, of Louisiana, who means to inflict upon us a speech
of unconscionable length, if I ara to judge from the apparatus of
notes and books which he has collected. It will, no doubt, receive
contribution from the S. of S, It is strange that the administration
should be reduced to rely upon so feeble and confused an understand
ing as that of J,, whom no one can listen to, and who is unanswera
ble because he is unintelligible. His friend and patron passes my
window every morning, arm in arm with M, C's, whom he ap
pears to be vainly engaged in drilling. My good friend, politics re
mind me of Goldsmith's character of a schoolmaster — any other em
ployment seems " genteel" in comparison to it, Saturday, ieb, 24, 1827.
Your letter of Thursday and the Enquirer of the same date are just
now brought in. I am truly sensible of the kind partiality of my
friends, but I feel that my career is drawing to a close. My system
is undermined and gone, and a few months must, I should think (and
alraost hope) put an end to ray sufferings. God only knows what
they have been. I think it probable that I shall take the steamboat
to Eichracnd ; in which case I shall have the pleasure to see you
once more. I don't like to hear of your being " unwell," and hope
that the approaching adjournment of the Assembly will relieve you
from your harassing employment at the Bank.
I have lain all night listening to the rain. I have not passed one
quite so bad this winter. I shall, nevertheless, go to the Senate, for
I have made it a point not to miss a vote. I tasked rayself beyond
my strength in retaining my seat, and am by no means quite satis-
fled that I took the right course in that raatter. It is not now, how
ever, to be remedied.
Many thanks for your news of my niece. God bless her ! I
wrote to her the day before yesterday.
We had yesterday a confused jumble of two and a half hours from
J., of L. But I have no doubt that the best face that the adminis
tration can put on the raatter will appear in print. The chairraan of
foreign relations has been weighed and found wanting. The man has
not a shadow of pretension to ability or information. Adieu.
Sunday, Feb. 25, 1827.
My lamentations must, I am sure, weary you, and not a little.
Like Dogberry, I bestow all my tediousness upon you. I have had
another bad night. Not so bad however as the preceding one. But
I am in a state of utter atony. I think that you raedical raen have
such a terra. I have lost all relish for every thing, and would will
ingly purchase exemption from all exertion of body and mind at

288 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
almost any price. My old friend, Mr. M., remarks ray faint and lan
guid aspect, but even he little knows of what is passing within. If
change of scene brings no relief, and I have little hope that it will,
I cannot long hold out under it ; and why do I reiterate this to you?
Because I have no one else to tell it to, and out of the fulness of the
heart the mouth speaketh. I can no longer imagine any state of
things under which I should not be wretched, I mean a possible
state. I ara unable to enter into the conceptions and views of those
around me. They talk to rae of grave matters, and I see children
blowing bubbles. Monday morning, Feb. 26, 1827.
Your letter of Friday, which ought to have arrived yesterday
morning, came m with the northern mail. No two instruments of
music ever accorded more exactly than our opinions do, concerning
public men and measures. I am heartily sick of both, and only wish
to find some resting-place, where I raay die in peace. I saw a letter
frora Crawford to Mr. M., a day or two ago, that affected rae raost
deeply. Nothing can be more simple and touching than the manner
in which he speaks of himself and his affairs. What a fate his has
been !
I agree with you, about the great man of Eichmond. His an
tagonist I know well. He is a frog at the utmost degree of disten
tion. How I shall get home I can't yet tell. My helplessness is in
conceivable. I want a dry nurse — somebody to pick me up and take
me away. I have passed another horrid night. Garnett writes rae
that he obtained relief frora Dr. Watson, during his late visit to Eich
mond There is some talk of a fight in the other House, but I con
jecture that it will end in smoke. I listen, but say nothing.
Your letter of Saturday, and the Enquirer of Wednesday, are just
now put into ray hands, " Old Prince Edward has come out man
fully" indeed ; and if any thing could exhilarate me, it would be such
a manifestation of the confidence of those who know me best ; but to
the dead fibre all applications are vain. Senate, Thursday, March 1, 1827.
I can only thank you for your letter of Tuesday. We raeet at
ten ; and yesterday we adjourned at the same hour. It almost killed
me, and has worsted ray old friend, Mr. M., a gepd deal. In coraraon
with all the honest and sagacious men here, he partakes of the gen
eral disgust ; and I think it not at all unlikely that he will throw up
his commission before the next winter. S. of S. C, one of the most
sterling characters, and of untiring zeal anjj. labor hitherto, begins
also to despond, seeing, as he does, that the administration is more
effectually served by its professed opponents than by its friends.
They are utterly insufficient. This is for you only.
This is probably the last nete that you will receive from me until

ELECTION TO THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES. 289
we meet. You must be prepared for a great change in me — ^greater
in temper, &c., than in health. You both, I know, will put up with
my tediousness. I feel that I am becoraing a burthen to others, as
well as to rayself, and the thought depresses rae not a little. " Tirae
and the hour run through the longest day." What a fate ours would
have been if we had been condemned to immortality here.
Saturday, March 3, 1827.
We sat until after two this morning. The House of Eepresenta
tives, by a very thin vote, adhered to' their amendment to the Colo
nial Bill. Had it been put off until to-day, it would not have been
done. We shall, I take it for granted, also adhere, and so the bill
will be lost I have made my arrangements to go in the Potomac
to-morrow, at 9 o'clock. When I consider, that at this session the
Bankrupt Bill, the Woollen Bill, the Naval School, and two Dry Docks,
and the Colonial Bill, have all failed, I am of opinion that (as we say
in Virginia) we have made a " great break," In fact, the administra
tion have succeeded in no one measure.

CHAPTEE XXXV.
ELECTION TO THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES.
So soon as it was known in Washington that Mr, Eandolph had
been defeated for the Senate, Dr, George W. Crump, who repre
sented his district, published a letter to his constituents, declining a
re-election, and united with Mr. Eandolph's other friends, in an
nouncing him as a candidate for Congress.
The legislature was still in session, as he passed through Eich
mond. His friends in that body invited hira, as a token of their re
spect, to partake of a public dinner. He said, in reply :— " The fee
bleness of my health admonishes me of the imprudence I commit in
accepting your very kind and flattering invitation, but I am unable
to practise the self-denial whidi prudence would impose. ¦ I have
only to offer my profound acknowledgment, for an honor to which I
am sensible of no claira on my part, except the singleness of purpose
with which I have endeavored to uphold our coraraon principles, never
more insidiously and vigorously assailed than now, and never more
VOL. n. 13

290 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
resolutely defended and asserted." To a compliraentary toast, call
ing hira " the constant defender of tha principles of the Constitution,
the fearless opponent of a mischievous adrainistration," he made a
very brief but appropriate answer — " He knew that of late years it
had become a practice, that the person thus selected as the object of
distinction and hospitality, should make his acknowledgments in a
set speech ; but as a plain and old-fashioned Virginian, it was, he raust
be perraitted to say, a custom more honored in the breach than the
observance. He felt assured that no declaration of his principles was
called for on the occasion. It would, indeed, be too severe a tax upon
the courtesy of that intelligent auditory, for hira to atterapt to gloss
over what he had done or omitted to do. He did not jxpect them to
judge of those principles frora any declarations that he might see fit
to make, instead of inferring them from the acts of his public life,
which had commenced in the last century, and had terminated but a
few days ago." Mr Eandolph received several similar invitations
frora his old constituents, but he was constrained to decline thera all.
He expressed his regret at being unable to partake of the hospitality
and festivity of his friends, " to whora," says he, " I am bound by
every tie that can unite me to the kindest and most indulgent con
stituents that ever raan had." ,
It is almost needless to say, that at the April elections he was
returned to Congress by his old constituents, without opposition.
The summer was spent in his accustomed solitude at Eoanoke ; and
as to the thoughts and feelings that occupied and harassed him during
that monotonous period, we leave hira to speak for himself, in the fol
lowing letters to his friend. Dr. Brockenbrough :
Roanoke, March 30, 1827 ; Friday.
My dear Friend — My worst anticipations have been realized.
I got home on the 22d CThursday), and since then I have scarcely
been off my bed except when I was in it. My cough has increased
very much, and my fever never intermits ; with this, pain in the breast
and all the attendant ills. Meanwhile I am, with the exception of
my servants, as if on a desert island. I feel that my doom is sealed,
as it regards this life at least. I do not want to distress you, or to
make you gloomy ; but you had a right to know the truth, and I have
told it to you.
My best regards to Mrs. B. Write to me when you have nothing
better to do. 1 shall be detained here all the sumraer, if I last as
long. Like other spendthrifts, I have squandered ray resources, and
ail] ponnyless.

ELECTION TO THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES. 291
Roanoke, May 15th, 1827 ; Tuesday.
Your letter gives me much concern. These sudden aind repeated
attacks alarm rae. Pray do not fail to write and let me know how
you are. I would readily embrace Mrs. B.'s kind invitation (God
bless her for it) ; but, ray good friend, I ara unfit for society. My
health is better — more so in appearance than in reality ; but my spi
rits are (if any thing) worse. In other words, a total change has
been effected in my views and feelings, and nothing can ever restore
the slightest relish for the world and its affairs. If property in this
country gave its possessor the coramand of money, I would go abroad
immediately. But I feel that I am flxed here for life. I am sensibly
touched by the kind interest expressed for ray welfare by the Wick-
hams (and others). Make ray best acknowledgraents to thera. Yester
day I received a present of fish frora a man whora I hardly know, who
sent it eight miles. On Saturday, for the first time, I made an essay
towards riding, and got as far as Mrs. Daniel's, who, I heard, was
very unwell, t repeated the experiment on Sunday ; but yesterday
was cold and cloudy, and the rain, I am persuaded, saved us last night
frora another frost.
By this time, I conjecture that my niece is in Eichmond. Give
her my best love, and Mrs. B. and Mary also. Eeraeraber me most
kindly to Leigh, Stevenson, and all who ask after me.
Beading over what I have written, I find that I have expressed
myself unhappily, not to say ungraciously, on the subject of Mrs. B.'s
invitation. What I meant was, that I could not be in Eichmond
without being thrown into society. It is inexpressibly fatiguing and
irksome to me to keep up those forms of intercourse which usage has
rendered indispensable. ' He who violates them deserves to be kicked
out of company. This is one among raany reasons why I like to go
abroad. You may ask patria qui exsul
Sequoque fugif?
but I have no such vain expectation.
Five, P. M. — Since writing the above I have felt so peculiarly
desolate and forlorn, that I would be glad to transport myself any
where frora this place. For some days this feeling has been gaining
the raastery over me. What wouldn't I give to be with you at this
moment, or to see you drive up to ray door ! The pain in my right
side and shoulder has increased, and that, no doubt, occasions, in part
at least, my wretched sensations. To-morrow will bring but the same
joyless repetition of the same dull scene. Roanoke, May 22, 1827 ; Tuesday.
Your last (14th) gives me considerable relief on the subject of
your health. Now that you have hit upon the reraedy, I hope to
hear no more of your spasmodic paroxysms. I have followed youi

292 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
advice with sensible benefit ; but nothing seeras to relieve the anxiety,
distress, and languor to which I am by turns subjected, or the pains,
rheumatic or gouty, that are continually flying about me.
I have passed a wretched week since my last. Why my letters
.are so long getting to hand, I cannot tell — perhaps it would be well
for you if they should miscarry altogether, for they are little else
besides laraentations. I cannot express to you the horror I feel at
the idea of a winter in Washington. I have used a very iraproper
word, for it is a feeling of loathing, of unutterable disgust. I am (of
course) obliged to " every body" for their inquiries and " apparent
concern" respecting my health ; but there are some individuals
towards whom I entertain a warmer feeling, and I beg you to express
it for me to Leigh, the Wickhams, and others whora I need not
name, although I will name Mr. and Mrs. T. Taylor.
Whichever way I look around me, I see no cheering object in
view. All is dark, and comfortless, and hopeless : for I cannot dis
guise frora myself, that the state of society and manners is daily and
not slowly changing for the worse. After making every ^lowance
for the gloom of age and disease, there are indications not to be mis
taken of general deterioration. If I survive this winter I must try
and hit upon some plan of relief, for I would not spend another year
1827 for any imaginable earthly consideration. This is not a bull,
although it may look like one.
I have some conveniences here (not to say comforts) that I can
not always meet with from home ; and this consideration, and the
vis inerticB which grows daily stronger, have detained me here, where
I vegetate like the trees around me. Give my best love to Mrs. B.,
and Mary. I most heartily wish that I could see you all.
Roanoke, Tuesday, June 12, 1827.
Your letter of the 5th was received last night. When I wrote
that to which you refer, I had not received Mr. Chiles's and Mr
Allen's, with your P. S. They carae about a week afterwards. I
wrote you a few hardly legible lines on Friday evening. The next
morning I got into my chair and drove to W. Leigh's, whence I re
turned yesterday. I would have stayed longer, but there were young
people in the house, and I felt as if I was a damper upon their cheer
fulness. Luckily I had a cool morning for my return home.
I have had a visit from a Stouldburg — old Mr. Archibald B. It
almost made me resolve never to leave my own plantation again.
I hardly think that I shall go to the Springs. I have a decided
aversion to mixing with mankind, especially where I ara known. I
have been obliged to give up riding on horseback altogether. It
crucified me, and I did not get over a ride of two railes in the course
of the whole day. I will stay at home, and take your prescription.
I wish I could see j'our Dr. Johnston's book. There are other rea-

ELECTION TO THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES. 293
sons why I should stay at home : I have no clothes, and no money.
In fact, I never was in so abject a state of misery and poverty since
I, was born. They who complain are never pitied. But I have so true
a judgment of the value of this world and its contents, that I would
not give the strength and health of one of my negro men for the wis
dora of Solomon, and the wealth of Croesus, and the power of Csesar.
" Though Solomon, with a thousand wives,
To get a wise successor strives.
But one, and he a fool, survives."
So much for the pleasure of offspring.
My best love to Mrs. B. and Mary, and to my niece, who is with
you, I hope. Tell her that I got her two ^ast letters a great while
after they were written ; and that I should have written in return, 'ijut
that I was never in a frame of raind for it. My life is spent in pain
and sorrow. " We passed in raaddening pain life's feverish dreara,"
was said of poor Collins. It is almost true ef me. I have a thousand
things to attend to, many duties to perform, and all are neglected.
I know and Teel that I am incurring an awful responsibility, but
that only serves to add to the miseries of the day aud night.
Roanoke, September 4, 1827.
I certainly took it for granted that you were at the Springs, or I
should have written, although I have been particularly unwell of
late, and have had a great deal of company, most of which I could
have gladly dispensed with. Indeed, I have more than once regret
ted that not at Iwme was inadmissible in the country. At this time
I am laboring under a sharp attack of bile, and am hardly able to
direct my pen. All those symptoms of anxiety, distress, &c.,.I need
not recapitulate to you. I had anticipated your caution respecting
wine, but am not the less thankful for it. Kidder E. was here, and
had no one to join him in a glass of claret, so that, as Burns says, I
helped him to i slice of my constitution, although my potation was
very moderate. If people would not harass me with their unmean
ing visits I should do much better. Roanoke, Nov. 6, 1827; Tuesday.
I write because you request it I got horae on Friday evening
(tbe 2d), and Sara and the wagons arrived here next night This
morning I received your letter of the 1st, Thursday. In answer to
your inquiry, I am worse, decidedly worse than when I wrote from
Araelia. I wrote you a long letter from thence, which I afterwards
threw into the fire — and like it, I am withering, consuming away. I
will try and see you if I can, on my way to W. Nothing but the circum
stance attending my election, prevents an imraediate resignation of
my seat. My good friend, I can't convey to you — language can't ex
press — the thousandth part of the misery I feel.
I found a long letter from you, at Charl. C. H. You say that

294 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
" without something of the sort (cotton spinning), Eichmond is done
over." My dear friend, she is " done over," and past recovery. She
wears the fades Hippocratica. That is not the worst — the country is
also ruined — past redemption, body and soul — soil and mind.
My friend, Mr. Barksdale, has resolved to sell out and leave
Amelia. He is right, and would be so, were he to give his establish
ment there away. If I live through the coming year, I too, will break
my fetters. He was almost my only resource. They have dried up, one
by one, and I am left in the desert alone.
Mrs. B. " wants to see me" — God bless her. When I come, you
must hide rae. I can write no more, even of this nonsense. Farewell.
Washington, Dec. 15, 1827 ; Saturday.
I confess that I have been disappointed, nay almost hurt, at
not hearing from you. My good friend, I am sore and crippled,
mind and body — and I might add estate. These, according to the
Liturgy, embrace all the concerns of raan, but there is another branch
in which I am utterly bankrupt.
You say that you have nothing to communicate, and yet Steven
son tells me that the election made a great sensation with' you
Quant a moi, I am dying as decently as I can. For three days
past, I have rode out, and people who would not care one groat, if I died
to-night — are glad that I am so much better, &c.. &c., with all that
wretched grimace that grown-up makers of faces call, and believe to
be, politeness, good-breeding, &c. I had rather see the childreii or
monkeys mow and chatter.
My diet is strict Flesh once a day (mutton, boiled or roasted),
a cracker and cup of coffee, morning and night, no drink but toast
water. But it will not do. For the first time in my life, I now be
gin to drink in the night, and copiously. I would give fifty pounds
if no one would ask me again, " how I do ?" i
Mr. Macon, who was strictly neutral last year, is now decided for
Jackson. Perhaps this may give sorae relief to our friend, Christo
pher Quandary. From some Panquier and other symptoms, I fear
that the Chief J. is quandaryish too.
Tazewell talks of going home, and has asked me to go with him. If
I could bear the beastly abominations of a steamboat, I would do it,
for here I cannot stay. Mr, M. recruited very much after his arrival,
but within a few days he has been complaining, and in very bad spirits.
The fact is, that his grand-children torture my old friend almost to
death. I bless God that I have none. Of all the follies that man is
prone to, that of thinking that he can regulate the conduct of others,
is the most inveterate and preposterous, Mr. Macon has no such weak
ness ; but the aberrations of his descendants crucify him. What has
become of all the countless generations that have preceded us ? Just
what will become of us, and of our successors. Each will follow the

ELECTION TO THE -HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES. 295
devices and desires of its own heart, and very reasonably expect that
its descendants will not, but will do, like good boys and girls, as they
are bid. And so the papas and mammas, and grand-papas and grand
mammas flatter themselves^-utterly regardless of their own contuma
cy If ever I undertake to educate, or regulate any thing, it shall be
a thing that cannot talk. I have been a Quixotte in this matter, and
well have I been rewarded — as well as the woful Knight in the Galley
slaves in the Brown mountain. Wasi-iington, Friday, Dec. 21, 1827.
At last I have a letter from you. Your epistles are like angels'
visits, " short and far between." I have one too from the Chief Jus
tice, whom Mrs. B. will smile to hear me describe as one of the
best-bred raen alive. I sent him the King's speech ind docuraents,
and here in return is a letter that I would not exchange for a Diploraa
from any one of our Universities.
Nothing was further from my intention than to touch any nerve
in Watkins, ifcc, when I mentioned his having written a book. At
that time, I thought C, Q, was ascribed to Garnett. I referred to
his publications some years ago against Jackson. Do you remember
that Dr. Johnson, who hardly rose to the dignity and polish of a bear,
told Boswell that he thought himself a very well-bred raan ? Now,
I thought that I rallied our friend that night, with playful good hu
raor, incapable of wounding even as sensitive a person as he on that
occasion seeraed to be.
Although I rode out on Wednesday, I ara no better. Yesterday
the atraosphere was loaded with rheum, and to-day it is hardly better.
The first good spell of weather that seeras settled, I shall leave this
place, pour jamais. I have yet sorae confidence left in mankind, and
much in my constituents. Now, let me beg you not to mention this
to any one. I have heard of my conversation with W. L. at your
house with alterations, I can't say with emendations. How every
idle word I utter flies abroad upon the wings of the wind, I know not,
I could not help smiling at the version given of my retort, that " J,
could not write because he had never been taught, and Adams be
cause he was not teachable " — the two last words were changed into
"a man of abilities," This is like the National Intelligencer's re
ports of me,
I am sensible that these effusions of querulous egotism can have
no value in your eyes, I will therefore try something else,
Mr. Barbour's motion is, to say the least of it, ill-timed. I be
lieve that he consulted no one about it. Our play is to win the game ;
to keep every thing quiet ; to give no handle for alarm, real or pre
tended ; to finish the indispensable public business, and to go home.
As you make m mention of Mrs. B. or of Mary, I conclude that
they are both well. My love to them both. I have been not a little

296 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
amused with hearing a gen|tleman describe the artful and assiduous,
and invidious court paid to a certain lady, the year before last, at the
Springs, by a certain great, very great raan. I now understand why
she introduced the subject of General Jackson to me of "all the peo
ple in the world, when I last saw her — ^the only instance of want
of good taste that I ever remarked in that lady. Quant a moi, I
was (as became me) mute as a fish.
I agree that it is a serious objection to any man that he has such
a hanger-on as C. B. But when I am determined upon turning off a
very bad overseer, I shall not be deterred, because I c&n't get exactly
him whom I would prefer. This squeamishness does for girls, but
with men, you must act as a man upon what is, and not upon what
ought to be, I have seen no man but Genl, W., and there were
strong objections to him, that I think fit for the office.
Washington, Saturday, Dec, 22, 1827.
My cough and pain in the breast are beth much worse, owing to my
being a few minutes in the Hpuse yesterday, frora which I was speed
ily driven by the atmosphere, I cannot believe it possible that the
Ch, J. can vote for the present incumbent. To say nothing of his
denunciation of all the most respectable federalists ; the implacable
hatred and persecution of this man and his father of the memory of
Alexander Hamilton (the best and ablest man of his party, who
basely abandoned him for old Adaras' loaves and fishes), would, I sup
pose, be an insuperable obstacle to the C. J.'s support of the younger
A. When I say the best and ablest of his party, I must except
the Ch. J. himself, who surpassed H. in raoral worth, and although
not his equal as a statesman, in point of capacity, is second to none.
Hamilton has stood very high in ray estimation ever since the contest
between Burr and Jefferson ; and I do not envy a certain Ex. -P. or
your predecessor, the glory of watching his stolen visits to a courtezan,
and disturbing the peace of his family by their informations. I have
a fellow-feeling with H. He was the victim of rancorous eneraies.
who always prevail over lukewarm -friends. He died because he pre
ferred death to the slightest shade of imputation or disgrace. He was
not suited to the country, or the times ; and if he lived now, might
be admired by a few, but Would be thrust aside to raake roora for any
fat-headed demagogue, or dextrous intriguer. His conduct, too, on
the acquisition of Louisiana, proved how superior he was tp the Otises
and Quincys, and the whple run of Yankee federalists.
Yours are the only letters that I receive frora Eiohraond — the
one mentioned yesterday, from the Ch. J., excepted. Indeed I have
had but three others ; one from Mr. Leigh, and two from Barksdale.
It is now snowing fast, and I fear that I shall be detained here much
longer than I could wish. I left the House yesterday, after an

ELECTION TO THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES. 297
hour's stay in it, and, as I finished ray ride, I saw the flag waving
over the Hall of the Eepresentatives. I thought what fools men
were, to be there listening to jackanapes, and what fools we, the people,
were, to submit to their rule. I must get away, or die outright.
Washington, Wednesday, Dec. 26, 1827.
My Dear. Friend, — Your letter, too, looks a little more like
" past times " than those which I have received from you of late. I
wonder that you should be at a loss for soraething to write about, for
Mr. Speaker, whom I saw sorae days ago_ for a singleeninute, related
to me that you had given a splendid party ; for so I interpreted the
word fandango, used by him.
But for a visit last evening from Frank Key, who carae and sat
about three hours with me, yesterday would have been the dullest
Christmas day that I can recollect. We want a synonym for the
French triste. I was invited to dine, en familie, with Mr. Hamilton,
of South Carolina, but the day was so particularly detestable, that I
could not stir abroad. The Pennsylvania Avenue is a long lake of
raud. I go nowhere, and see n?)body but Mr. Macon. He is so deaf
that he picks up none of the floating small trash in the Senate, and I
api hard put to it to make hira hear my hoarse whispers.
I understood the whole matter of Mr. H., of Kentucky, and the
" very great man," and I readily coraprehended the lady's scruples ;
one, especially, that was tp be looked for in a female of delicacy and
right feeling ; for I have felt, and I do feel the same, myself But
there is no alternative.
You say that "all the world are amazed how the devil I know
every thing before any body else." I got that piece of information
from Lynchburg, a long while ago, through my silent, discreet friend,
W. ii., who, I verily believe, never mentioned it to any body else,
but, as the Waverly man says, " kept a calm sough." I have paid
raore money of my own for intelligence than, I believe, any other
public man living ; but this came gratis. Apropos to the Waverly
man. His last work (Canongate) is beneath contempt The raask
is off, and he stands confessed a threadbare jester, repeating his worn-
out stories. I wish that sorae one would take pen in hand, and abolish
hira quite. It raight be easily done. ,
I pray you write to me as often and as fully as you can. I have
no other epistolary aliment, except from Harry Tucker. God bless
you both. ,
My most respectful and friendly regards to Mr. Wickham, when
ever you see him. He has won upon my esteem. I made the very
sarae remark upon the Ch. J  's dignified and simple raanners,
that evening, that Mrs. B. did. Pray tell him that I hope soon to
see him here.
VOL. n. 13*

298 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.

CHAPTEE XXXVI.
LEADER OF THE OPPOSITION — A WISE AND MASTEELT,
INACTIVITY. '
Mr. Eandolph's opposition comraenced with the administration.
His objection was not 'cpnfined to the measures, but extended to the
men — the principles they 'avowed — and the manner in which they
came into power. In his judgment they were condemned in the be
ginning, and it was folly to wait to strike the first blow until they
could safely intrench themselves behind the walls of patronage, and
the well furnished batteries of a pensioned press. Like a skilful
leader, he dashed at once on the foe, and gave him a stunning and
fatal blow, ere he was aware of the near approach of an eneray. Twp
years ago, in the Senate, we observed his bold and vigorous onset ;
and now, in another field, his charges on the intrenchraents of the
enemy are still more fearless and effective. " I shall carry the war
into Africa," said he, " Ddenda est Carthago ! ' I shall not be con
tent with merely parrying. No, Sir, if I can — so help me God ! — I
will thrust also ; because my right arra is nerved by the cause of the
people and of ray country."
It was conceded, on all hands, that he was the leader of the op
position in Congress.
A member from Ohio, in responding to a rhetorical inquiry pro
pounded by himself — " Who is it that manifested this feeling of pro
scription towards us and our posterity ?" answered, ' Sir, it is the
mau who is now. at the head of the opposition to this adrainistration;
it is the man who was placed by you. Sir, at the head of the principal
coraraittee of this House. Yes, Sir, he was placed there by aid of
the vote of the very people that he has derided and abused ; and if
ill health had not prevented, would have been in that exalted station.
It is the raan that is entitled to raore credit — if it is right that this
administration should go down-^for his efficiency in effecting that ob
ject, than any three raen in this nation. This is not a hasty ppinipn
of mine ; it is one long held, and often expressed. I have been an
attentive observer of his course ever since the first organization of
the party to which he belongs. From the moment he took his seat

LEADER OF THE OPPOSITION. 299
in the other branch of the legislature, he became the great rallying
officer of the South. Our southern brethren were raade to believe
that we, of the North, were political fiends, ready to oppress them
with heavy and onerous duties, and even willing to destroy that
prpperty they held mpst sacred. Sir, these are not exaggerated
statements relative to the course of this distinguished individual.
He is certainly the ablest political recruiting sergeant that has been
in this or any other country."
Another member " considered him the comraanding general of
the opposition force, and occupying the position of a comraander, in
the rear of his troops, controlling their movements ; issuing his
orders ; directing one subaltern where and how to move his forces ;
admonishing another to due and proper caution, and to follow his
leader ; nodding approbation to a third, and prompting hira to ex
traordinary exertion ; examples of which he has given us 11 this
debate." Mr. Eandolph was eminently fitted to be the leader of the repub
lican party, at this time. The time-serving policy, and the " cen
tripetal " tendency of the last twelve or fifteen years, had utterly
obliterated all traces of its former existence. The old principles that
constituted it, were effiiced frora the memory. He was the " Old
Mortality,'' whose sharp chisel could retrace the lines on the whited
sepulchres, and bring them out in bold relief, in all their original
strength and freshness. His was the prophet's voice, to stir the dry
bones in the valley.
In the first place, he was purely disinterested. He filled the sta
tion assigned hira by his beloved constituents ; his ambition extended
not beyond. His age, his wretched health, and " church-yard cough,"
admonished hira that he might not live to witness the triumph of his
cause. None but the most uncharitable could suspect his motives, or
doubt that his right arra was nerved by the cause of the people and
of his country. The history of all nations, and of their governments,
was well known to him ; the causes of their rise, progress, and de
cline, were thoroughly studied and digested. He knew the Consti
tution of his own country — its strength, its weakness, and the dangers
that beset it. Possessing a thorough acquaintance with human
character, and a keen insight into the motives of individuals, he was
familiar with the history, both public and private, of every prominent

300 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
man connected with the Government Nothing escaped his observa
tion. No " Senior Falconi " could work the wires in his presence,
without being detected and exposed. He possessed a fearless spirit,
that dared to look at the naked truth — te cpnfront it boldly, and to
speak to it.
He called things by their right names ; he called a spade a spade,
offend whom it might. His mind was untrammelled by professional
habits ; nor was it fettered to the narrow round of an inferior trade.
His comprehensive genius, with a free and fearless spirit, travelled
over every field of kfiowledge, and appropriated to itself the richest
fruits of ancient and modern lore. While others were poring over
their books, or plodding through a labored and methodical speech,
striving by a slow inductive process to arrive at their conclusion, he,
with a comprehensive glance surveyed the whole field, and by an in
tuitive perception leapt to the conclusion without an apparent effort.
No man more completely fulfilled his own beautiful fable of the cat
erpillar and the huntsman. " A caterpillar comes to a fence ; he
crawls to the bottom of the ditch, and over the fence ; some one of his
hundred feet always in cpntact with the object upon which he moves :
a gallant horseman, at a flying leap, clears both ditch and fence.
' Stop !' says the caterpillar, ' you are too flighty, you want connection
and continuity ; it took me an hour to get over ; you can't be as
sure as I am, who have never quitted the subject, that you have over
come the difficulty, and are fairly over the fence.' ' Thou miserable
reptile,' replies our huntsman, ' if, like you, I crawled over the earth
slowly and painfully, should I ever catch a fox, or be any thing more
thau a wretched caterpillar?' " With these qualities of head and of
heart — a profound statesman, a ready debater, a resolute will, pos
sessing the spirit of command — he was eminently fitted to be the
leader of a great party. While others were bewildered, or timidly
waited the coming of events, he was quick to perceive and prompt to
act. His policy during the present session was a m«e and masterly in
activity. The administration was in a rainority, and with a " sar
donic aneer'' had told the leaders of the opposition that they had be
come " responsible for the measures of the Governraent." But Mr.
Eandolph urged his friends to do nothing — stand still and observe a
wise and masterly inactivity. He often used that expression : " We

LEADER OF THE OPPOSITION. 301
ought," said he, " to observe that practice which is the hardest of all,
especially for young physicians — we ought to throw in nc medicine
at all — to abstain — to observe a wise and masterly inactivity.'' That
was not only his policy then, but at all times. We are indebted to
him fpr a political maxira that embraces the whole duty of an Amer
ican statesman. Let the Government abstain as much as possible
from legislation ; interfere not at all with individual interests ; leave
all they can to the States, and to the boundless energies of a free and
enlightened people. In a word, the true constitutional spirit of the
Federal Government would prompt it at all times (there are excep
tions of course to all rules) to observe a wise and masterly inactivity ;
it would fulfil its whole duty in that. Whither would the contrary
doctrine of the men then in power — that Government must do every
thing — flave carried us ? to what a condition has it brought the na
tions of Europe ? Let their enormous standing armies, bankrupt
treasuries, irredeemable national debts, wretched and impoverished
people, answer the question !
All of Mr. Eandolph's speeches during the present session were
interesting and instructive. Some of. them are tolerably fair speci
mens of his style of thought and composition ; especially the one in
answer to Mr. Everett, of Massachusetts, on the first of February,
which was revised by himself and dedicated to his constituents : " To
my constituents, whose confidence and love have impelled and sus
tained me under the effort of making it, I dedicate this speech."
It is a great mistake to suppose that he had no method in his dis
course. His was not a succession of loose thoughts and observations
strung together by the commonplace rules of association, but the pro
found raethod of a raind of genius, that looked into the very heart of
a subject, and drew forth the law of association by which its ideas are
bound together in an adamantine chain of cause and effect. Like the
musician who ^raws from a simple ballad an infinite variety of har
monies, in all of which may be traced the elements of the original
song — so, Eandolph, in his speeches, expanded the original thpught
intp a rich and cppious variety ; but every illustration was suggested
by the subject ; each episode tended to accomplish the purpose he
had in view. Let the following extract from the speech now under
consideration, suffice as a specimen of his large acquaintance with
history ; profound knowledge of human character ; his copiousness

302 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
of illustration, and the rapidity, beauty, strength, and purity of hk
style. After reviewing the observations of other speakers that
had gone before him, suggested by a former speech of his, he
comes directly to the subject in hand — the unfitness of the present
rulers : we wanted statesmen who could wisely direct the helm ot
State, and not orators to make speeches, or logicians to write books :
Sir, said he, I deny that there is any instance on record, in
history, of a man not having military capacity, being at the head of
any Government with advantage to that Governraent, and with credit
to hiraself There is a great raistake on this subject. It is not those
talents which enable a raan to write books and raake speeches, that
qualify him to preside over a Government. The wittiest of poets ha.s
told us that " All a rhetorician's rules
Teach only how to name his tools."
We have seen professors of rhetoric, who could no doubt descant iiu-
ently upon the use of these said tools, yet sharpen them to so wiry an
edge as to cut their own fingers with these iraplements of their trade.
Thomas a Becket was as brave a man as Henry the Second, and, in
deed, a braver man — less infirm of purpose. And who were the Hil-
debrands, and the rest of the papal freebooters, who achieved victory
after victory over the proudest monarchs and States of Christendom?
These men were brought up in a cloister, perhaps, but they were en
dowed with that highest of all gifts of Heaven, the capacity to lead
men, whether in the Senate or in the field. Sir, it is one and the
same faculty, and its successful display has always received, and al
ways will receive, the highest honors that man can bestow : and this
will be the case, do what you will, cant what you may about military
chieftains and nulitary domination. So long as raan is man, the vic
torious defender of his country will, and ought to receive, that coun
try's suffrage for all that the forms of her governraent allow her to
give. A friend said to me not long since: -'Why, General Jackson
can't write." " Admitted." (Pray, Sir, can you tell me of any one
that can write ? for, I protest, I, know nobody that can.) Then,
turning to my friend, I said : " It is most true that General Jackson
cannot write," (not that he can't write his name or a letter, &c.,) " be
cause he has never been taught ; but his competitor cannot write,
because he was not teachable ;" for he has had every advantage of
education and study. Sir, the Duke of Marlborough, the greatest
captain and negotiator of his age, which was the age of Louis the
Fourteenth, and who raay rank with the greatest men of any age,
whose irresistible manners and address triumphed over every obsta-

LEADER OF THE OPPOSITION. 303
cle in council, as his military prowess and conduct did in the field —
this great man could not spell, and was notoriously ignorant of all
that an undergraduate must know, but which it is not necessary for
a man at the head of affairs to know at all. Would you have super
seded hira by some Scotch schoolmaster ? Gentlemen forget that it
is an able helmsman we want for the ship of state, and not a profes
sor of navigation or astronomy.
Sir, among the vulgar errors that ought to go into Sir Thoraas
Brown's book, this ought not to be oraitted : that learning and wis
dom are not synonymous, or at all equivalent Knowledge and wis
dom, as one of our most delightful poets sings —
" Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one.
Have ofttimes no connection : Knowledge dwells
Tn hearts replete with -thouglits of other men ;
Wisdom in minds attentive to their own.
Knowledge is proud that he has learned so much ;
Wisdom is humble that he knows no more.
Books are not seldom talismans and spells,
By which the magic art of shrewder wits
Holds the unthinking multitude enchained."
And not books only. Sir. Speeches are not less deceptive. I not
only consider the want of what is called learning, not to be a disquali
fication for the commander-in-chief in civil or military life ; but I do
consider the possession of too much learning to be of most mischiev
ous consequence to such a character, who is to draw from the cabinet
of his own sagacious mind, and to make the learning of others, or
whatever other qualities they may possess, subservient to his raore
enlarged and vigorous views. Such a man was Crorawell ; such a
man was Washington : not learned, but wise. Their understandings
were not clouded or cramped, but had fair play. Their errors were
the errors of men, not of schoolboys and pedants. So far from the
want of what is called education being a very strong objection to a
man at the head of affairs, over-education constitutes a still stronger
objection. (In the case of a lady it is fatal. Heaven defend rae from
an over-educated accoraplished lady ! Yes, accomplished indeed ; for
she is finished for all the duties of a wife, or mother, or mistress of a
faraily.) We hear rauch of military usurpation, of military despot
isra, of the sword of a conqueror, of Caesar, and Cromwell, and Bona
parte. What little I know of Eoman history has been gathered
chiefly frora the surviving letters of the great men of that day, and
of Cicero especially ; and I freely confess that if I had then lived,
and had been compelled to take sides, I must, though very reluc
tantly, have sided with Caesar, rather than have taken Pompey for
my master. It was the interest of the House of Stuart — ^^and
they were long enough in power to dp it — to blacken the character
of Cromwell, that great, and, I raust add, bad man. But, Sir, the

304 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
devil himself is not so black as he is sometimes painted. And who
would not rather have obeyed Cromwell .than that self-styled Parlia
ment, which obtained a title too indecent for rae to narae, but by
which it is familiarly known and mentioned in all the historians from
that day to this. Cromwell fell under a temptation, perhaps too
strong for the nature of man to resist ; but he was an angel of light
to either of the Stuarts, the one whora he brought to the block, or
his son, a yet worse raan, the blackest and'foulest of raiscreants that
ever polluted a throne. It has been the policy of the House of
Stuart and their successors — it is the policy of kings — to villify and
blacken the raemory and character of Cromwell. But the cloud is
rolling away. We no longer consider Hume as deserving pf the
slightest credit. Cromwell " was guiltless of his country's blood ;"
his w^s a bloodless usurpation. To doubt his sincerity at the outset
from his subsequent fall would be madncas. Eeligious fervor was
the prevailing temper and fashion of the tiraes. Cremwell was no
mere of a fanatic than Charles the First, and not so rauch of a hypo
crite. It was not in his nature to have signed the attainder of such
a friend as Lord Strafford, whom Charles meanly, and selfishly, and
basely, and cruelly, and cowardly repaid for his loyalty to him by an
ignominious death — a death deserved indeed by Strafford for his trea
son to his country, but not at the hands of his faithless, perfidious
raaster. Cromwell was an usurper — 'tis granted ; but he had scarcely
any choice left hira. His sway was every way preferable to that
miserable corpse of a Parliament that he turned out, as a gentleman
would turn off a drunken butler and his fellows ; or the pensioned
tyrant that succeeded him, a dissolute, depraved bigot and hypocrite,
who was outwardly a Protestant and at heart a Papist. He lived and
died one, while pretending to be a son of the Church of England —
aye, and sworn to it — and died a perjured man. If I must have a
master, give me one whom I can respect, rather than a knot of knav
ish attorneys. Bonaparte was a bad man ; but I would rather have
had Bonaparte than such a set of corrupt, intriguing, public plun
derers as he turned adrift. The Senate of Eome, the Parliament of
England, " the Council of Elders and Youngsters," the Legislature of
France — all made themselves first odious and then contemptible •
and then comes an usurper ; and this is the natural end of a corrupt
civil governraent.
There is a class of raen who possess great learning, combined with
inveterate professional habits, and who, ipso facto, or perhaps I should
rather say ipsis factis, for I must speak accurately, as I speak before
a professor, are disqualified for any but secondary parts any where, even
in the cabinet. Cardinal Eichelieu was, what ? A priest. Yes, but
what a priest ! Oxenstiern was a chancellor. He it was who sent
his son abroad to see quam parva sapientia regitur mundus — with

LEADER OF THE OPPOSITION. 305
how little wisdom this world is governed. This administration seemed
to have thought that even less than that little would do for us. The
gentleman called it a strong, an able cabinet — second to none but
Washington's first cabinet, I could hardly look at him for blushing.
What, Sir ! is Gallatin at the head of the Treasury — Madison in the
department of State ? The mind of an accomplished and acute dia
lectician, of an able lawyer, or, if you please, of a great physician,
may, by the long continuance of one pursuit — of one train of ideas —
have its habits inveterately fixed, as effectually to disqualify the pos
sessor for the command of the councils of a country. He may, never
theless, raake an adrairable chief of a bureau — an excellent man of
details, which the chief ought never to be, A man may be capable
of making an able and ingenious argument on any subject within the
sphere of his knowledge ; but every now and then the master sophist
will start, as I have seen hira start, at the monstrous conclusions to
which his own artificial reasoning had brcmght himself But this
was a man of more than ordinary natural candor and fairness of
mind. Sir, by words and figures you may prove just what you
please ; but it often and most generally is the fact, that, in propor
tion as a proposition is logically or mathematically true, so it is poli
tically and comraonsensically (or rather nonsensically) false. The
talent which enables a raan to write a book, or make a speech, has no
more relation to the leading of an army or a senate, than it has to
the dressing of a dinner. The talent which fits a man for either
office is the talent for the management of men : a raere dialectician
never had, and never will have it ; each requires the same degree of
courage, though of different kinds. The very highest degree of moral
courage is required for the duties of government I have been
amused when I have seen sorae dialecticians, after assorting their words
— " the counters of wise men, the money of fools" — after they had laid
down their premises, and drawn, step by step, their deductions, sit
down completely satisfied, as if the conclusions to which they had
brought themselves were really the truth — as if it were irrefragably
true. But wait until another cause is called, or till another court
sits — till the bystanders and jury have had time to forget both argu
raent and conclusion, and they will raake you just as good an argu
raent on the other side, and arrive with the sarae coraplacency at a
directly opposite conclusion, and triumphantly demand your assent
to this new truth. Sir, it is their business — I do not blame them.
I only say that such a habit of mind unfits raen for action and for
decision. They want a client to decide for them which side to take ;
and the really great man performs that office. This habit unfits
them for government in the first degree. The talent for governraent
lies in these two things — sagacity to perceive, and decision to act.
Genuine statesmen were never made such by mere training ; na,s

306 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
cuntur non fiunt : education will form good business men. The
maxim, nascitur non fit, is as true of statesraen as it is of poets.
Let a house be on fire, you will soon see in that confusion who
has the talent to command. Let a ship be in danger at sea,
and ordinary subordination destroyed, and you will iramediately
raake the same discovery. The ascendency of mind and of charaoier
rises and rises as naturally and as inevitaljy where there is fair play
for it, as material bodies find their level by gravitation. Thus, a
great logician, like a certain animal, oscillating between the hay on
different sides of hira, wants some power from without, before he can
decide from which bundle to make trial. Who believes that Wash
ington could write a good book or report as Jefferson, or make an
able speech as Hamilton? Who is there that believes that Crom
well would have made as good a judge as Lord Hale ? No, Sir ; these
learned and accomplished men find their proper place under those
who are fitted to command, and to command thera among the rest
Such a man as Washington will say to Jefferson, do you become my
Secretary of State ; to Hamilton, do you take charge of my purse, or
that of the nation, which is the same thing ; and to Knox, do you be
my master of horse. All history shows this ; but great logicians and
gre'at scholars are, for that very reason, unfit to be rulers. Would
Hannibal have crossed the Alps, when there were no roads— with
elephants — in the face of the warlike and hardy mountaineers, and
have carried terror to the very gates of Eorae, if his youth had been
spent in poring over books ? Would he have been able to maintain
himself on the resources of his own genius for sixteen years in Italy,
in spite of faction and treachery in the Senate of Carthage, if he had
been deep in conic sections and fluxions, and the differential calculus,
to say nothing of botany and mineralogy, and chemistry ? " Are you
not asharaed," said a philosopher to one who was born to rule ; " are
you not ashamed to play so well upon the flute ?" Sir, it was well
put. There is rauch which becoraes a secondary raan to know — rauch
that it is necessary for hira to know, that a first-rate man ought to
be ashamed to know. No head was ever clear and sound that was
stuffed with bopk learning. You raight as well attempt to fatten and
strengthen a man by stuffing him with every variety and the greatest
quantity of food. After all, the chief must draw upon his subalterns,
for much that he does not know and cannot perform himself My
friend, Wm. E. Johnson, has many a groom that can clean and dress
a race-horse, and ride hira too, better than he can. But what of that ?
Sir, we are, in the European sense of the terra, not a military people.
We have no business for an army ; it hangs as a dead weight upon
the nation, officers and all. All that we hear of it is through pam
phlets — indicating a spirit that, if I was at the head of affairs, I should
very speedily put down. A state of things that never could havo

LETTERS FROM ROANOKE. 307
grown up under a man of decision of character at the head of the
State, or the Department — a man possessing tlie spirit of command ;
that truest of all tests of a chief, whether military or civil. Who
rescued Braddock when he was fighting, secundem artem, and his
men were dropping around him on every side ? It was a Virginia
militia major. He asserted in that crisis, the place which properly
belonged to him, and which he afterwards filled in a manner we all
know.

CHAPTEE XXXVII.
LETTERS FEOM EOANOKE.
We again leave the reader to follow Mr. Eandolph into his accus
tomed summer quarters, there to commune with him alone, and to
commiserate his unhappy lot With a heart most exquisitely attuned,
as the reader has learned to know, to love and friendship, he had no
wife npr children to share his home and fortune, and to fill that aching
void, that none but doraestic affection can fill. Wholly dependent on
outward friendship, he found the world all too busy for that, and was
desolate. The reader will not be at a loss to perceive that the fol
lowing letters were addressed to Dr. Brockenbrough.
Roanoke, Tuesday evening. May 27, 1828.
My dear friend, I hope to hear from you by Sam on Saturday
night, and tp receive Lerd Byron in a coffin, where I shall very soon
be. I daily grow worse ; if that can be called " growth " which is
dirainution and not increase. My food passes from rae unchanged.
Liver, lungs, stomach (which I take to be the original seat of dis
ease), bowels, and the whole carnal man are diseased to the last ex
tent. Diarrhoea incessant — nerves broken — cramps — spasms — -ver
tigo. Shall I go PU ? — ^no, I will not.
I have horses that I cannot ride — ^wine that I cannot drink — and
friends too rauch occupied with their pwn affairs tp thrpw away a day
(not to say a week) upon rae. Of these, except Mr Macon, your
self and Barksdale, who has entangled hiraself with Mrs. Tabb's
estates, are all that I care to see here. Meanwhile, ray dear friend,
I ara not without my comforts, such as they be. I have a new passion
arising within me, which occupies rae incessantly — the improvement
of my estate. , But for three men : — A. B. V. (your old mastef).
Creed Taylor, and Patrick Henryj I should have commenced thirty
years ago, what now I can hardly begin — finish, never. Don't you
smile at my array of names ? " Le vrai n'est pas toujours le vraisentr

308 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
blable." Perhaps I might say, without hazarding more than publitt
speakers (of whom I have been one) often do, '¦'¦jamais " for " tou
jours "
My cough is tremendous. The expectoration frora raucus has
become purulent My dear friend, you and I know that the Cough
and diarrhoea, and pain in the side and shoulder, are the last stage of
ray disorder, whether of lungs in the first instance, or of liver.
I send you the measure of my thigh at the thickest part. Calves
I have none, except those that suck their dams ; but then I have
ankles that will out-measure yours or any other man's as far as you
beat rae in thighs.
I am super-saturated with politics ; care nothing about conven
tion or no convention, or any thing but the P. election, and no great
deal about that. The country is ruined, thanks to Mr. Jefferson and
Mr. Eitchie, who, I suppose, is asharaed of sending me the Enquirer,
for I never get it. It is a temporizing, time-serving print, which I
heartily despise, and should not care to have it, except that it is the
Moniteur of the poor old, ruined and degraded Dorainion. Neverthe
less, ask somebody (for Eitchie is too much of a Godwinian to attend
to facts) to send it to me. Roanoke, Friday, May 30, 1828.
Although I wrote to you so short a time ago by Sam, as well as by
the post, yet as my frank has not expired (at one time indeed T expect
ed not to live out my 60 days' leave), I write again to tell you that
extremity of suffering has driven rae to the use of what I have had a
horror of all my life — I raean opium ; and I have derived more re
lief from it than I could have anticipated. I took it to mitigate se
vere pain, and to check the diarrhoea. It has done both ; but to my
surprise it has had an equally good effect upon my cough, which now
does not disturb me in the night, and the diarrhoea seldom, until to
wards daybreak, and then not over two or three times before break
fast, instead of two or three and thirty times. Yet I can't ride — but
I hobble with a stick, and scold and threaten my lazy negroes who are
building a house between my well and kitchen, and two (a stable boy
and under gardener) mending the road against you come — or Barks
dale, I want to see nobody else, that will come, except Leigh and
Mr. Wickham, and they won't. "Yes, let rae except W. M. Watkins,
who has been twice to see me ; once spent the day from early break
fast, until after dinner — and seemed to feel a degree of interest in
my life, that I thought no one took, except my " woman kind," and
my friend Wm. Leigh.
Disgusted to loathing with politics, I have acquired a sudden taste
for improving my estate, and ray overseers are already aghast at my
inspection of their doings. My servants here had been corrupted,
by dealing with a very bad woman, that keeps an ordinary near me.

LETTERS FROM ROANOKE. g09
Twenty odd years ago, I saw her, then about 16, come into Charlotte
court to choose a very handsome young fellow of two and twenty, for
her guardian, whom she married that night She was then as beau
tiful a creature as ever I saw (some remains yet survive). They re
minded me of Annette and Lubin,but alas ! Lubin became a whisky
sot, and Annette a double you. Her daughters are following the
same vocation, and her house is a public nuisance. I have been
obliged to go there and lecture her — at first she was fierce, biit I re
minded her of the time when she chose her guardian, extolled her
beauty — told her that I could not make war upon a woman — and that
with a widow — that if she wanted any thing, she might command
much more from rae as a gentleman, by a request, than she could
ma!;e by trafficking with my slaves. She burst into tears, promised
to do so no more, and that I might, in case of a repetition of her of
fence, " do with her as I pleased." Her tears disarraed me, and I with
drew my threat of depriving her of her license, &c., &c. : Voila un
roman. Roanoke, Aug. 10, 1828.
Your brother Tom, who dined here and lay here last Tuesday,
tells me that you say " you believe that I have forgot you." I told
the colonel to reply in jockey phrase, that " the boot was on the other
leg." Until I saw him, I took it for granted that you had gone on
from Charlottesville to the Springs, and I should as soon think of ad
dressing a letter to Torahjictoo, as to our watering places. Moreover,
he tells rae that " he does not think that you will go at all." Now all the
circurastances of the case taken together, I think I have some right
to complain ; but as that is a right which I had much rather waive
than exercise, I shall content myself with laughing at you most heart
ily, for the part you had in the accpuchraent pf Carter's raountain,
which, after violent throes, has not produced even a mouse. My good
friend, you and your compeers, Ex-P — s, Ch. J — s, and learned
counsellors (to say nothing of the little tumbler), remind me of my
childhood, when we used to play at " ladies and gentlemen," and raake
visits frora the different corners of the roora, and cut our bread or
cake into dishes of beef, mutton, &c. What is all this for ? — a me
nace ? Then it must be treated with contempt ; a persuasive, or ar
gument ? then I should treat it likewise. Against all self created as
sociations, taking upon themselves the functions of government, I set
my face ; and I should disregard the propositions of the convention,
however reasonable or just, because of the manner in which they had
been got up. Eichardson and Gaines and Joe Wyatt are my politi
cal attorneys ; in fact, and by them only, I mean to be bound — one set
is enpugh, and I am vain enough to believe that my opinion and wish
es are entitled to as much respect from the assembly {ceteris paribus)
as that of any member of the Charlottesville convention. In truth

810 LIFE DF JOHN RANDOLPH.
we are a fussical and fudgical people. We do stand in need of " In
ternal Improveraent" — beginning in our own bosoras, extending to
our families and plantations, or whatever our occupation may be ; and
the man that stays at home and minds his business, is the one that is
doing all that can be done (rebus existentibus) to mitigate the evils of
the times.
" Well, after all this expectoration, how is your cough ?" Steadily
getting worse ; d'allieurs, I am better — I mean as to the alimentary
canal. Why can't you and madara corae and see me? We are burnt
to a cinder ; although I had beautiful verdure this summer, until late
in July. But if you could but see my colt Topaz, out of Ebony ; my
filly Sylph, out of Witch ; or my puppy Ebony, you would adrait that
the wonders of the world were ten, and these three of them. Adieu I
J. E. OF E.
P. S. My frank being out, I subject you to double postage, to
tell you that I clearly see in the C. C. a sort of tariffical log rolling
between Ja. E. and the " mounting men," to tax the rest of the State
and spend the money among themselves. I expect to live to see the
upper end of Charlotte combine to oppress and plunder the lower
end ; or vice versa. The cui bono Mr. Mercer can tell, so can such
contractors as his friend J. G. G. &c.
Did you read Mr. J.'s letter? I could not get through with it.
Who does these things ? It is exhumation. Roanoke, Tuesday, September 30, 1828.
My dear Friend — Your letter, which I received last night, was
a complete surprise upon me. I had begun to think that I was
never to hear from you again. I have been here five cheerless
months. Two letters from you, and one from Barksdale, written
early in May I Did you get one from rae in reply to your penul
timate, addressed to Philadelphia? Since my return home frora
W. I have not once slept out of my own bed ; neither have I
eaten from any other man's board, except when carried to Char
lotte C. H. by business. With the exception of a few visitors, I
have been solitary, or worse — being occasionally bored with company
that I would have been glad to dispense with. There is a disease
prevailing on Dan river, which they call the cold plague. It is very
fatal and speedy ; the patient dying on the second or third day. In
Virginia we have a moral cold plague, that has extinguished every
social and kindly feeling. I do not believe that there ever existed a
state of society— no, not even in Paris— so selfish and heartless as
ours ; and then the pecuniary distress that stares you in the face.
whichsoever way you turn ! The like has never been seen and felt
in this country before. If I had the means of insuring a mutton
cutlet and a bottle of wine in a foreign land, I would take shipping
in the next packet.

PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. gH
My good friend, my health is very bad. My disease is eating me
away, and for the last month I have been sensible of a dejection of
mind that I can't shake off'. Perhaps some interchange of the cour
tesies and civilities of life might alleviate it ; but these are unknown
in this region. Roanoke, Tuesday, October 28, 1828.
You are very good, but I cannot accept your kind invitation. I
have lived here six solitary months in sickness and sorrow, until I
find myself unfit for general converse with mankind. Mr. Barksdale
.presses me to go to How Branch, but I cannot Sometimes, in a fit
of sullen indignation, I almost resolve to abjure all intercourse with
mankind ; but the yearnings of my heart after those whom I have
loved, but who, in the eagerness of their own pursuits, seem to haye
cast me aside, tell rae better.
My good friend, I ara sick, body and mind. I am without a sin
gle resource, except the workings of ray own fancy. Fine as the
weather is and has been all this month, I have not drawn a trigger.
I often think of the visit you and madame made rae three years ago
just at this tirae. Although I never get a word frora her, give her ray
best love, God bless you, may you never feel as I do. J: E. of E.
Charlotte C. H., November 4, 1828.
I got here to-day with sorae difficulty, and atterapted to return
home, but have been compelled to put back into port. Yesterday I
was unable to attend. Indeed I have been much worse for the last
five or six days.
Vote of the county at 4 P. M., Tuesday — Jackson 270 ; Adams 57.
The sun is more than an heur high, but I am obliged to go to
bed. No letters from you for a long tirae. J. E. op E.

CHAPTEE XXXVIII.
PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION — RETIREMENT FROM CONGEESS.
General Jackson was elected, by a large majority. President of the
United States. No man contributed more than Mr. Eandolph to
this result — none expected to profit less frora the triumph of his
cause. His sole object was to turn out men from office who had
clirabed up the wrong way, and whose principles were ruinous to the
Constitution, and to the Union as a union of co-equal and indepen
dent States. Having accomplished this end, he had nothing more to
desire. Whether the new men in office would fulfil his expectations

312 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
reraained tp be seen. One thing was certain, if they did net, they
wpuld find UP suppprt frpm him. The spoils of office had no charm
to lull him into forgetfulness of his duty — the sop of Cerberus could
not close his watchful eye, nor silence his warning voice. Principles,
not men, were not empty sounds on his lips, but a rule of action, frora
which he never deviated ; friend or foe alike shared his indignation
whenever they betrayed a perverseness in their opinions, or a selfish
ness in their raotives. His course was understood from the begin
ning. " The gentleman frora Massachusetts warns us,'' says he, " that
if the individual we now seek to elevate shall succeed, he will in his
turn, become the object of public pursuit ; and that the same pack
will be unkennelled at his heels, that have run his rival dpwn. It
may be so. I have no hesitation to say, that if his conduct shall
deserve it, and I live, I shall be one of that pack ; because I main
tain the interests of stockholders against presidents, directors, and
cashiers." After the election Mr. Eandolph, as he had always done, kept
aloof frora political intrigues ; topk no personal interest in the for
mation of the ne\^ cabinet ; nor did he open his mouth during the
session of Congress that closed the day General Jackson was inau
gurated President of the United States.
He had nothing raore to do ; his work was finished. He an
nounced his intention not to be a candidate for re-election, and to bid
adieu for ever to public life. It was certainly the last time he ever
appeared on the fioor of Congress. The question has often been
asked, where are the monuments of his usefulness ? what iraportant
measure did he ever advocate ? The answer to this inquiry can only
be found in contrasting the results of his labor with those of his
great rival. Mr. Clay exerted all his great faculties and cpraraand-
ing infiuence to build up his American system. Eandolph labored
with equal assiduity to prevent its being built up ; and after it was
established, was unremitting in his exertions to tear it down. It has
been torn down ; and none did more than he in the work of demoli
tion. One prop after another was taken from beneath this magnifi
cent structure, and it new lies a heap pf ruins. The Araerican sys
tem is a mouldering ruin — the very meraory of it has grown obso
lete ; but the Araerican people were never more prosperous, and the
Araerican Constitution was never raore ardently cherished by their

PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. 313
grateful hearts. The Araerican system, whatever might have been
the design of the great projector, worked only for the benefit pf tho
presidents, directors, and cashiers ; the destruction of it has resulted
to the infinite advantage of the stockholders. But this is a service
the people do not appreciate — a negative virtue, in their estimation,
for which there is no reward. He is more valued who invites them
to a feast, than he whp holds thera from the poisoned chalice. We
have labored, throughout the Life of Mr. Eandolph, to show that there
are principles of the Constitution behind all measures and all admin
istrations, of infinitely raore importance than the temporary advan
tage that might be obtained by an infringement of them. These
principles he studied with unremitting assiduity, and drew from them
the golden rule that a statesman must abstain from much legislation,
and leave every thing to the unrestrained energies of the people. He
taught, as the soundest maxira of philosophy, not only in the practice
of the medical art, but of political science, a 'wise and masterly in
activity. But these lessons of wisdom have fallen like seed by the way
side, and many are tempted to ask. Where are the fruits of the long
life and labors of this man? If the doctrine of State-rights, en
grafted on the Constitution by George Mason, and expounded by
Jefferson and by Madison, be an essential eleraent in our federative
system, then what a debt of gratitude do we owe to John Eandplph,
who ever defended those principles through evil as well as through good
report ; never swerved from their practice ; and finally, when the cen
tripetal tendencies of the present administration were rapidly hasten
ing their destruction, rescued them from ruin, and gave the federa
tive system a new impulse, which we trust will restore it to its origi
nal balance, and a just and harmonious action.
The people are beginning to awake from their delusions. When
they shall fully perceive and understand the fact that all those bril
liant schemes that so rauch dazzled their fancy and made such potent
appeals to their interests, were not only calculated to corrupt, oppress,
and bankrupt the coraraunity, but to sweep away all the landmarks
and barriers that stood in the way of lawless power, then will the
name of John Eandolph, whose prophetic voice had warned them of
these consequences, be fondly cherished by th?m, and handed down
VOL. II. I'l

314 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
from generation to generation as one of the greatest benefactors a
kind Providence had vouchsafed to their country.
The following letters were written by Mr. Eandolph to his friend.
Dr. Brockenbrough, during the session of Congress :
Washington, Nov. 29, 1828.
My good friend — Your kind letter reached rae yesterday, but too
late to thank you for it by return mail. At Fredericksburg I re
ceived such representations of the Dumfries road, as to induce me to
take the stearaboat. As there was only one other passenger, the
cabin was quite comfortable. The boat is a new one, and a very fine
one, and always gets up to the wharf Her deck is roofed. We got
here at two o'clock, but I lay until eight. Found Dr Hall (N. C.)
here (at Dawson's), and this morning Colonel Benton and Mr. Gilmer
have arrived.
My cough is very much worse, and the pain in my breast and side
increased a good deal. God bless you both. Pray write as often as
you conveniently can. Yours, ever. J. E. of E.
Dr. Brockenbrough. Washington, Dec. 7, 1828.
You have no doubt heard that Mr. A. does not return to Quincy.
On dit, that a very ungracious reception awaits hira in Boston. A
great deal has been said of the " philosophy" with which he bears his
defeat, but a friend of mine, who saw him yesterday, tells me that he
is emaciated to a great degree, and looks ten years older than he did
last winter ; that his features are sunken, and his coat, although but
toned, hanging about him like a man's coat upon a boy. In short,
said my informant, your epithets " lank and lean," applied to the ad
ministration, were forcibly recalled to my mind by the personal ap
pearance of the P. Clay, too, he added, endeavors to put a good
face on the matter ; but after working hiraself up into one of these
huraors, the collapse is dreadful. Such are the rewards of ambition.
"Ambition thus shall tempt to rise.
Then whirl the wretch on high.
To bitter scorn a sacrifice.
And grinning infamy."
You see I have nothing to write, when I send you stale poetry. My
duty and love to Madame, and kind and respectful reraerabrance to
Mr. Wickhara. Yours, ever. J. E. of E.
Washington, Deo. 11, 1828 ; Wednesday.
Your letter shows on the face of it how much you are straitened
for time. I wish I could spare you some of mine, that hangs
heavy on my hands. In addition to my other annoyances, I ara la
boring under a severe infiuenza, and might sit for the picture of a

PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. 3x5
Weeping philosopher, although I have as few claims to philosophy
as Mr. J. Q. A. himself He rides or walks around the square in
front of the Capitol, every day. I have not seen him, but Hall tells
me that he does very often, and that the sight makes him feel very
queerly. " He looks," says Hall, " as if he did not know me, and I
look as if I did not know him." His appearance is wretched. An
acquaintance of mine called on him a few days ago ; he was much
dejected, until some one made an allusion to Giles, when, in groat
wrath, he pronounced G.'s statements respecting hira to be utterly
false ; said G.'s memory was inventive, &c. ; and, on the whole, con
ducted hiraself very undignifiedly. "Washington, Dec. 17, 1828.
Your letter, although dated four days ago, did not corae to hand
until this morning. It needed no excuse, for I am, now-a-day, glad to
get a letter from you on any terms.
Yesterday I dined with our old acquaintance, Dennis A. Sraith,
at Gadsby's. He spoke with great interest and regard of you. He
introduced me to a Dr. McAulay, who has raarried a lady of fortune,
in Baltimore. H;e was formerly of Virginia, and I conjecture, a son
of McAulay, of York. I am glad that you are pleased with your
adopted daughter. I pray that she may realize your fondest ex
pectations. I have long since done with forming any. If my " body"
and " estate" would permit, my " mind" is bent on spending the rest
of my life in travelling — not in search of happiness ; that, I know, is
not to be found — but of variety, which may be found ; and in which
I consider the chief pleasure of life to consist. Habit, I know, can
reconcile the gin-horse to his lot ; but I never could have made a gin-
horse. This place, is exceedingly dull. As no purpose can now be an
swered, by giving entertainments, none are made. I am nearly as
much alone as I was at Eoanoke ; and, with the exception of the daily
mails, I am full as much at a loss for resources to break the monotony
of the day ; each day being, with the exception of the weather, ex
actly alike. If there be any news, I am in the dark, I only hear
that some ladies of the heads of departments have, for the first tirae
during the present reign, condescended to visit ladies of M, C, who
have passed several winters here, unnoticed by those grand dignita
ries. This was told me by my friend Benton, who sometimes knocks
at my door, and sits a few minutes with me — but for whom, I should
be utterly ignorant of what's going on.
As to G.'s " religion," I shall be sorry to pass upon it or hira.
My quondara neighbor, Peter J., has, I ara certain, mistaken his
wants, whatever may be the lady's case. My niece is now in Eich
mond, attending the wedding of some female friend. She is an
admirable creature, susceptible of high and generous sentiments ; but

316 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
I have a raost pitiful opinion of the friendship of girls generally ;
marriage is a tpuch-stone that few of thera can bear. Indeed, it is
too rauch the case with our sex, also. By this time you must be tired
of my prosing. Let me hear from you, when you can find leisure to
write. Yours truly, J, E. of E.
Washington, Dec. 22, 1828.
After a dreadful night, I am greeted by your letter of Saturday.
I am truly concerned to hear of Mrs. B.'s afflicting indisposition. In
this climate,! as we advance in life, that disorder becomes more com
mon and more formidable. Make my best respects to her.
My good friend, few persons of my age, have thought more on the
subject of government, and my situation for the last forty years has
been highly favorable for watching the operations of our own. The
conclusions that I have come to, do not very widely differ from your
own ; they are any thing but cheering. What you say upon the au
thority of Mr. Short, of the condition of " a solitary itinerant," I know
by some thousands of miles' experience, to be true ; but bad as it is,
it is better, far better, than the life I lead here or at home.
Mr. J. is again in the newspapers. I think this course very ill-
advised ; but perhaps' I ara wrong, and do not take into consideration
the very low state into which our society has fallen.
The influenza has left my eyes weak and inflamed ; but if there
was any thing worth communicating, I would tax them to give it to
you. I hear nothing and see nobody. I cannot work myself up to
take any interest in what is going on, or said to be going on.
There is not, at this time, on the face of the earth, one spot where
a raan of sense, attached to the principles of free governraent, wpuld
wish to live. Governments have poisoned every thing.
Farewell ! I can truly repeat after you, " Whether at home or
abroad," God bless you. J. E. of E.
January 6, 1829.
Mr. Bell, of the House of Eepresentatives, from Tennessee, has
received a letter from Nashville, informing hira that Mrs. Jackson
died on the 23d December ; the day for the dinner and ball to Gen. J.
While awaiting his arrival at the festival, a messenger brought
the news of Mrs. Jackson's death.
I shall probably not be in the Convention. I am sick of public
affairs and public men, and have no opinions of constitutions ready
made or made to order.
If it would do any good, I would wish most heartily that your
connection with the B. of V. was dissolved. You have been a slave
to that corapany ; and after wearing yourself down, and devoting to
it tirae and abilities and acquireraents more than enough to amass an
independent fortune (otherwise applied), where is your reward ? I

PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. 317
tell yen plainly and fairly that, in public opinion, a banking-house ia
a house of ill fame, and that all connection with it is discreditable.
This, whether just or not, is the general sentiment of the country.
My sufferings, for the last three days especially, have been such
that if it were lawful I would pray for death.
You are sadly misinformed as to the '• heroism of our men in
office here." Their affectation, like all other affectation, defeats its
object. Mrs. A., who has been fuming and fretting all the year past,
and who went to bed sick upon the catastrophe being announced, now
" is glad that she is no longer the keeper of a great national hotel.''
Mr. A. is quite rejoiced, and Mr Clay delighted at the result. A
keen and close observer tells rae that C. is, on the contrary, down,
down, down ; that he cannot support himself ; that he sinks under
the effort to bear up against his defeat
Washington, January 12, 1829 ; Monday.
My dear Doctor — It won't do for a ma,n, who wishes to indulge
in dreams of huraan dignity and worth, to pass thirty years in public
life. Although I do believe that we are the raeanest people in the
world, I speak of this "court" and its retainers and followers. I am
super-saturated with the world, as it calls itself, and have now but
one object, which I shall keep steadily in view, and perhaps sorae
turn of the dice may enable me to obtain it : it is, to convert my pro
perty into money, which will enable me to live, or rather to die,
where I please ; or rather where it may please God.
As to State politics I do not wish to speak about them. The coun
try is ruined past redemption : it is ruined in the spirit and character
of the people. The standard of merit and morals has been lowered
far below '¦'proof." There is an abjectness of spirit that appals and
disgusts me. Where new could we find leaders of a revolution ?
The whole South will precipitate itself upon Louisiana and the. adjoin
ing deserts. Hares will birdie in the Capitol. "Sauve qui pent" is
my raaxira. Congress will liberate our slaves in less than twenty
years. Adieu. 1Friday, February 6, 1829.
" This,'' you will say, " is nothing to you." You know better ; it
is a great deal to me, and I sit up in bed to tell you that when you
wrote that you did know better. My dear friend, I can hardly write
*or breathe. I was attacked last Monday about noon. I am now
better 5 that is, not in extremity. My best love and duty to madame.
The itch to know and attach one's self to the great is an inherent
vice of our natura Have you seen Lockhart's Life of Burns?
Adieu for the present. Washington, February 9, 1829 ; Monday.
My good Friend — I sci-atched a few lines to you on Thursday
(I think) or Friday, while lying in my bed. I am now out of it, and

yj,S LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
siomewhut better ; but I still feel the barb rankling ii ray side. Whe
ther, or not, it be pwing tp the debility breught on by disease, I can't
contemplate the present and future condition of my country without
dismay and utter hopelessness. I trust that I am not one of those
who (as was said pf a certain great man) are always of the opinion of
the book last read. But I met with a passage in a Eeview (Edin
burgh) of the works and life of Machiavelli that strikes me with great
force as applicable to the whole country south of Potapsco : " It is
difficult to conceive any situation raore painful than that of a great
raan conderaned to watch the lingering agony of an exhausted coun
try, to tend it during the alternate fits of stupefaction and raving which
precede its dissolution, to see the symptoras of its vitality disappear
one by one, till nothing is left but coldness, darkness, and corrup
tion." You see that whatever temporary amendment there may be in
my health, there is nene in my spirits. On the cpntrary, they were
never worse. It is not, I assure you, for the want of such feeble ef
fort as I can make against the foul fiend.
The operation of this present Government, like a debt at usuri
ous interest, must destroy the whole South. It eats like a canker
into our very core. South Carolina must become bankrupt and de
populated. She is now shut out of the English market for her rice,
with all the premium of dearth in Europe. I am too old to move,
or the end of this year should not find rae a resident of Virginia,
against whose misgovemment I have full as great cause of complaint as
against that of the U. S. It has been one raass of job and abuse —
schools, literary funds, internal improvements, Charlottesville con
ventions, and their spawn. I have as great horror of borrowing as
you have ; but a friend having made the offer of some money, on
good security, I think 1 shall take up sorae on mortgage, and make
one more trial for life. If you lived in the country, I would come
and stay with you ; but when I go to see you, you make dinners, and
put yourself out of the way, and to unnecessary expenses, which I
don't like to be the occasion of
The snow is all gone, and the sun is seen once more. God bless
you both. Thursday, February 12, 1829..
My good Friend — Your letter of Monday carae to hand yester
day, after I had written, and too late to thank you for it. Tom Mil
ler writes this morning that the convention bill has passed, and that
my friends expect me to be a candidate for a seat in that body. If
any one can and will devise a plan by which abler and better men
shall be necessarily brought into our councils, I will hail him as my
Magnus Apollo ! But as I have no faith in any such scheme, and a
thorough detestation and cpntempt fer pplitioal metaphysics, and for

PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. 319
an arithmetical and geometrical constitution, I shall wash my hands
of all such business. The rest of my life, if not passed in peace, shall
not be spent in legislative wrangling. I am determined, absolutely,
not to expose myself to collision where victory could confer no honor.
No, my dear friend, let political and religious fanatics rave about
their dogmas, while the country is going to ruin under the one, and
the others are daily becoming worse members of society. " I'll none
of it." " By their fruits shall ye know them."
P. S. By the time you receive this, you will have seen the Boston
correspondence of Mr Adams. The reply is, I'ra told, by Mr. Jack
son. Meanness is the key-word that deciphers every thing in Mr.
Adams' character. Saturday, February 14, 1829.
My Dear Friend — Your opinions concerning the operation ol
thw incubus, miscalled Government, I confess surprise me. I have
made every allowance for the dearness of slave labor, and the mon
strous absurdities of our own State legislation. But I cannot shut
my eyes to the fact, that a community that is forbidden to buy, can
not sell. " The whole southern country will buy less, and make their
own clothing, without making smaller crops." Cui bono this last
operation, except to wear out their lands and slaves gratuitously ? It
is this very "buying less," that lies at the root of our raischief If
we bought raore, we would sell raore in proportion, and become rich
by the transaction. To pursue a Chinese policy, which we did not
want, this Government, by cutting us off from our best customer,
England, inflicts a dead loss of $15,000,000 this very year on one
southern State alone (South Carolina) ; as returns cannot be made in
her coraraodities, England, in time of dearth, refuses to receive her
rice. Formerly she would not eat India rice. In like manner, she
will soon become independent of us for her supply of cotton. She is
also planting tobacco ; so that the conflagration of the factories, at
which I heartily rejoice, will take frora us the mite received for their
consumption. Again, all the expenditure of this machine of ours is
raade (Norfolk and Point Comfort excepted) north of the Chesapeake.
All of the dividends of the debt of the bank are received there. No
country can withstand such oppression and such a drain.
As to W. H., I should not pay the slightest regard to any thing
that he can say. I ara well acquainted with the West Indies, and I
have been told by sorae of the principal proprietors, that with all
their heavy charges for provisions, lumber, mules, &c., from which
Louisiana is exempt, the sugar crop is clear of all expenses ; these
being defrayed by the molasses and rum. Moreover, you are to con
sider that the West Indies suffer under grievous commercial restric
tions, and that Wilberforce and Co. have very much irapaired the
value of their slaves. (The sarae thing is at work here.) Nevertheless,

320 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
[ was assured, by the most intelligent and opulent of the " West India
Body," that the mortgages and embarrassments of Jamaica, Sec, grew
chiefly out of the proprietors residing in England, and trusting to
agents ; sometiines to colonial ostentation and extravagance ; but that
there was scarcely an instance of a judicious and active planter per
sonally superintending his affairs, who did not amass a fortune in a
very few years,
England was our best customer, because we were her best cus-
to,/ ers. This is the law of trade, and the basis of wealth ; instead of
which, we have the exploded " mercantile system," as it was ridicu
lously called, revived and fastened, like the Old Man of the Sea,
around our necks. Monday, February 16, 1829.
I abstained saying any thing about the conventipn, seeing no
cause to change my flrst impression on that subject, I once told you
that every man was of some importance to hiraself I found out this
too late — after I had poured rayself out like water for others. From
my earliest childhood, I have been toiling and wearing my heart out
for other people, who took all I could do and suffer for them as nr
more than their just dues. My dear friend, I am super-saturated
with disgust. My bodily infirmities do not contribute to relieve the
feeling ; and if I mix in affairs, I must be content to be set aside,
with contemptuous pity, for a testy, obstinate old fool. To this I do
not mean to subject rayself " Let the dead bury their dead." I
shall not dig or throw one shovel full of earth. Adieu !
Thursday, February 19, 1829.
Your letter of Tuesday (17) is just received, I did not " mistake
you very much," for I did not attribute to you opinions favorable to
tlie tariff. The causes of disparity between the East and South, are
to be found, among other things, in the former charging and being
paid for every militia man in the field during the Eevolutionary war,
and for every bundle of hay and peck of oats furnished for public
service ; in the buying up the certificates of debt for a song, and
funding them in the banks ; in the bounty upon their navigation,
and the monopoly of trade which the European wars gave them. If
the militia services, losses, and supplies of the Carolinas had been
brought into account, all New England would not have sold for as
much as would have paid thera. In regard to the West Indies, the
great law of culture prevails — that the worst soils hardly reproduce
the expense of cultivation. If even in Georgia, where the cane does
not yield one-half the strength of syrup, sugar can be made to profit,
what must be the yield of the rich, fresh lands of Jamaica, St, Kitts,
or Juvinau ? The syrup of New Orleans is, by the proof, 8 — of the
West Indies, 16, ' J f ^

ELECTED TO THE CONVENTION. 321
I have not seen the picture. No steamboat can, I ara persuaded,
approach within fifty railes of this place.
From what I hear, public expectation will be much disappointed
in regard to the composition and character of the new cabinet, ' This
is for you alone. " As you have done with political economies," so
am I with politics, and politicians too. I went yesteiday to vote, in
effectually, against "the Gate Bill." I shall be agreeably disap
pointed if it does not pass the Senate. Monday morning, February 23, 1829.
My Good Friend — I don't know why I write to you, unless it
be to assuage or divert the chagrin by which I am devoured. I have
never witnessed so complete a discomfiture as is expressed in the
faces of such of ray friends as I see, and they tell me that there is
not one exception among the eminent raen who lately acted together.
The countenances of the adverse party beara with triumph, as might
be expected. I ara making my arrangements to get away, and yet, I am better
off here than I shall probably ever be again. I have a comfortable
apartment and receive the raost kind attentions from all the gentle
men under this roof, particularly Major Hamilton, Col. Benton and
D. Hall. I shall never again know the comforts of society. The
Ch. Justice was good enough to sit an hour with rae yesterday ; and
I had afterwards a visit from Mr. Quincy, my old fellow-laborer.
He said that if Gen. J. had called to his councils high men, the East
would be satisfied. He then asked whp the present men were ? add
ing, " They say that this is C  's arrangement." It continues to
be intensely cold. Have I lost ground in Madame's good graces ?
I shall be sorely mortified if it be so. Thursday morning, Feb. 26, 1829.
My dear friend, I've been thinking of you all night, awake or
asleep, a^d to-raorrow, I hope to hear from you. You will see a most
extraordinary announcement in this day's Telegraph. I am credibly
informed by my friend H., that the V. P. is as much astounded by
these results as any body, and is as indignant. This is most private
and particular, Every body shocked, except Clay and Co. Stran
gers partake of these feelings. — My highest regards to Madame.

CHAPTEE XXXIX.
ELECTED TO THE CONVENTION.
On his retirement from Congress, Mr. Eandolph hoped tp disccnnect
himself from public affairs, and tp spend the remainder of his days
VOL. II. 14* •

322 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
in travelling abroad. But his old constituents were not so willing to
give up his services. They had lost him for ever on the floor of Con
gress, but they now wished him to represent thera on another theatre.
The people of Virginia had determined on a convention to amend tha
Constitution of the State. Mr. Eandolph was called to serve them
in that body.
The reader will perceive, from the following letters, addressed to
Dr. Brockenbrough, that he was nominated as a candidate without his
knowledge, and greatly against his wishes. He was much embarrassed
by this procedure, but at length consented to the sacriflce, that he
might save the feelings of one friend and aid in the election of another
who was a candidate also for the convention.
The letters were written before the election. He was returned
of ccurse as a member of the convention, aud took his seat in that
body when it assembled, on the first Monday of October, in the Hall
of Eepresentatives, in the capitol at Eichmond.
Roanoke, Tuesday, April 21, 1829.
To ray friend Wra. Leigh, who called at the P. 0. yesterday after
the stage had left it, I am indebted for your kind letter of the 15th.
He was riding post haste from P. Edward election to Halifax Superior
Court, for which place he set out this morning by day-light. Such is
the life of those who are at the head of the liberal professions in
this country.
Whilst I was expressing to hira my surprise at that passage of
your letter which referred to ray having consented to serve in the
convention, if elected ; he told rae, to my utter astonishraent, that a
proclamation to that effect had been made at the last Charlotte Court,
and by a staunch friend of raine too, and a raan of honor and truth.
Now, I have held but one language en this subject from first to last,
and you know what that is. To you, to B., W., L., and others, in wri
ting and orally, I have explicitly avowed my determination to have
nothing to do with this matter. The more I have reflected on my
retirement from public life, the better satisfied I am of the propriety
and wisdom of the step. Before I take any in reference to this last
matter, I shall see the gentleman who made the declaration in ray
behalf He will be here about the last of this week.
My dear friend, we shall not " meet in October." I am anchored
for life. My disease every day assumes a raore aggravated character.
I have been obliged to renounce wine altogether. Coffee is ray only
cheerer. A high fever every night, which goes off abput day break
with a colliquative sweat ; violent pain in the side and breast ; inces
sant cough, — -with all my tenacity of life this can't hold long. I have

ELECTED TO THE CONVENTION. 323
rode once pr twice a mile cr twP, but it exhausts me. The last three
days have been warm, but last night we had a storra, and it was cold
again. Luckily I have no appetite, for I have hardly any thing to eat
except asparagus, which is very fine and nice. I tried spinach a la
Frangaise, but it disagrees with me. You see that, like Dogberry, " I
bestow all my tediousness upon you." You know my raaxira, " that
every man is of great consequence to himself" The trees are bud
ding and the forest begins to look gay, but when I cast my eyes upon
the blossoras, the sad lines of poor Michael Bruce recur to ray raera
ory: — " Now Spring returns, but not to me returns
The vernal Joy my better years have known ;
Dim in my breast, life's dying taper burns.
And all the joys of life with health are flown."
Eemove Mr. Manvy ! You amaze me. What, the iriend and
school-fellow and class-mate of Jefferson, the first appointraent to that
consulate by Washington ! Pray, what is the matter ? And who is
to be the successor ? Roanoke, Tuesday, April 28, 1829.
My Dear Friend — You and I, if I mistake not, have long ago
agreed that there is no such thing as free agency. I ara at this mo
ment a striking example of the fact. In short, to save the feelings
of, a man of as much truth and "honor as breathes, who believed him
self to be doing right, and to avoid injuring certain friends and
interests, which the withdrawal of my name would, it seems, occasion,
I ara fain even to let it stand, at the risk of incurring the imputation
of fickleness (for the world will never know the true version), and at
what I shrink from with unutterable disgust, the prospect of again
becoming a member of a deliberative, i. e. spouting asserably.
Roanoke, Friday, May 22, 1829.
My Dear Friend — It is a long while since I heard from you, and
I am in a condition that requires all the aid my friends can give. If I
could have been permitted to remain in the privacy I thought I had
found, my life might have been prolonged sorae months — possibly
years : but the kindness of my friends has destroyed me. I have
been in a manner, forced upon exertions to which ray strength was
utterly unequal, and at an expense of suffering, both body and mind,
of which none but the unhappy victim can have a conception. I
have not been so ill since this month last year.
As I have not the least prospect of attending Halifax election, I
count upon being left out, a result which I by no means deprecate ;
having already attained the only two objects that I had at heart, and
which prevented my withdrawing my name in the out set — the saving
the feelings of one friend, who had " declared me," and promoting the

32 i LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
election of another (W, L.). I am an entire stranger in Halifax, and
personal courtship is as necessary to success in Politics as in Love.
They have four candidates of their own.
To be killed by kindness is, to be sure, better than to be murdered,
and it is sorae consolation to know that you have done service to one
friend, and gratified many : but I have been most keenly sensible of
the cruelty of which I could not complain.
My kindest regards to Mrs. B. and to Mr. Wickham when you see
him. Your much afflicted but sincere friend.

CHAPTEE XL.
THE ViIEGINIA CONVENTION — EVERT CHANGE IS NOT REFORM,
No body of men that ever assembled in Virginia, created more interest
than this convention. The State had been agitated for many years,
on the subject of constitutional reforra. Most of the slave property,
and other wealth, were in the eastern section, extending from the Alle
gany to the sea shore, while a large free population were scattered over
the western section, among the mountains. These people were almost
unanimous in favor of an araendraent of the Constitution, fixing the
basis of representation on free white population. The result of such
a measure, would be to change the balance of power, by giving the
right of taxation to one portion, while the property to be taxed, for
the most part, belonged to another portion of the Comraonwealth ;
thus divorcing taxation and representation, which, according to Araeri
can doctrine, should be inseparable. The eastern counties, who were
to be the sufferers, strenuously opposed so radical a change in the fun
damental law. It was not a mere question of reforra, that might af
fect all parts alike, but it was one of power between two sections of
the State, essentially different in feelings, habits, and interests ; it
was a question, too, that deeply involved that raost difficult and deli
cate of all subjects, the right of slave representation. Fcr these rea
sons, a deep and absorbing interest was felt in the deliberations of
the convention now asserabled in the capitol, at Eichraond. Each
section put forth its strength. The ablest men were selected, without

THE VIRGINIA CONVENTION. g25
regard to locality. Gentlemen living in the lower part of the State,
were elected by districts beyond the mountains, because of their coin
cidence of opinion with their distant constituents.
Perhaps no assembly of men ever convened in Virginia, display
ing a larger amount of genius and talent — certainly none that con
tained a greater number of individuals whose reputation had extended
beyond the borders of the State, and reached the farthest limits of
the Union. There were many of less renown, who, in after years, ac
quired equal eminence in their professional and political career. In
deed, of the one hundred raen that coraposed that Convention, much
the larger portion were above the ordinary standard of talents, expe
rience, and weight of character. The Editor of the " Proceedings and
Debates'' of the Convention, says, " that an assembly of men was
drawn together, which has scarcely ever been surpassed in the United
States." What strange groups, and awkward meetings, took place on that
occasion ! Madison and Marshall side by side, in the same delibera
tive body ! Giles and Monroe ! Eandolph, Tazewell, Garnett, Leigh,
Johnson, Taylor, Mercer ! Old Federalists, old Democrats, Tertium
Quids, and modern National Eepublicans ! What a crowd of recol
lections must have pressed on the mind of John Eandolph, as l^e cast
an eye around that assembly. For thirty years he had been on the
political stage ; for full one-third of that time, the whole of the politi
cal press, and two administrations — State and Federal, raade war
upon him ! He was like an Ishraaelite ; his hand against every raan,
and every man's hand against him. Then a friend was a friend indeed !
and an enemy was one to be remembered I Now, behold around him
so many that were friends, so raany that were enemies, and so many
who, pretending to be friends, in his hour of need betrayed him !
Eandolph's manner and bearing, on this extraordinary occasion,
was in some respects peculiar, even for him ; but before the Conven
tion adjourned, his bland and conciliatory course exalted him in the
estiraation of the country, and gratified his devoted friends, even be
yond their most sanguine expectations.
The first thing done in the Convention, was to divide out to com
mittees different parts of the Constitution, for revision. The most
important was the Legislative Coraraittee, to whora was assigned the
duty of revising the " Eight of Suffrage," the basis of representation.

826 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Eandolph was a meraber of this coraraittee. Mr. Madison was chair
man. In the committee roora (Senate chamber) he took his seat at
the head of a long table, and the members arranged themselves pro
miscuously along down the sides. Mr. Eandolph, on the contrary,
took his seat at some distance, in a corner, where he could observe
every thing and every body that was passing. Erect in his seat, and
his arras folded across his breast, he sat almost motionless, while his
keen eye might be observed watching like a cat. Now and then his
shrill voice, as if coming frora some unseen being, would startle those
in the room, and the crowd around would press forward to see from
what quarter so startling a sound had emanated.
Of all the men assembled there on that great occasion, he was
certainly the observed of all observers. The multitude were seen sa
tisfied with seeing Madison, Marshall, Monroe, and other distinguish
ed raen, but no gratification could abate their desire to watch every
raoveraent, and to catch every word that fell frora the lips of John
Eandolph. They crowded around hira whenever he emerged from
the capitol ; through the throng of eager admirers he passed, hat in
hand, with an ease, and grace, and dignity of manner, that struck
every beholder with admiration. \
Few raen escaped with the reputation they brought into that
assembly. They found that professional attainments, however ex
tensive, or political studies confined to the measures pr the pplitics
of the day, did not qualify them to discuss those great principles
which lie at the foundation of all government Quite other habits
of thought than the professional, and a far different training were ne
cessary for the discussion of those questions that involved all the in
terests of man, past, present, and to corae. That, however, was the
field for John Eandolph to display, in a pre-eminent degree, his com
manding genius. His profound knowledge of men, of history, of
government ; the causes of the growth and decay of nations ; his
patient attention and wonderful faculty of winnowing the chaff, and
collecting together the substantial grains of a protracted debate ; his
concentrated, pointed, and forcible expressions, raaking bare in a few
words the whole of a complicated subject ; and his vast experience in
parliamentary proceedings, gave him an unexpected and controlling
influence over the proceedings of the Convention.
He watched those proceedings with unreraitted attention, partook

THE VIRGINIA CONVENTION. 327
largely in the debates, and before the close of the Convention, was
the acknowledged leader of a powerful party, embracing the raost dis
tinguished men. who opposed all changes in the old Constitution,
and actually prevented many that were contemplated by the reform
ers, and who, when they first assembled, supposed themselves in a de
cided majority. Mr. Eandolph's speeches, with one exception (and
that did not exceed two hours), were generally short, but to the pur
pose. They were well reported by Mr. Stansberry, the best steno
grapher of his time, and some pf them are very fair specimens of his
peculiar style.
The cardinal rule that governed his whole political life may be
found in the following short speech :
" Mr. Eandolph said, he should vote against the araendment, and
that on a'principle which he had learned before he came into public
life ; and by which he had been governed during the whole course of
that life — that it was always unwise, yes, highly unwise, to disturb a
thing that was at rest. This was a great cardinal principle, that
should govern all statesmen--never, without the strongest necessity,
to disturb that which was at rest. He should vote against the amend
ment on another, and an inferior consideration. Whatever opinion
might have been expressed as to aniultitude of counsellors, there was
but one among considerate men as to a multiplicity of laws. The
objection urged by the gentleraan from Eichmond, over the way (Mr.
Nicholas), to the existing clause, was precisely one of the strongest
motives with hira for preferring the amendment. I am much opposed,
said Mr. E., except in a great emergency — and then the legislative ma
chine is always sure to work with sufficient rapidity — the steam is
then up — I am much opposed to this ' dispatch of business.' The
principles of free government in this country (and if they fail, if
they should be cast away, here, they are lost for evfer, I fear, to the
world), have more to fear frora over legislation than from any other
cause. Yes, sir, they have more to fear from armies of legislators,
and armies of judges, than from any other, or from all other causes.
Besides the great manufactory at "Washington, we have twenty-four
laboratories more at work, all making laws. In Virginia, we have
now two in operation — one engaged in ordinary legislation, and ano
ther hammering at the fundamental law. Among all these lawyers,
judges," and legislators ; there is a great oppression on the people,
who are neither lawyers, judges, nor legislators, nor ever expect to be ;
an oppression barely more tolerable than any which is felt under the
European governments. Sir, I never can forget, that in the great
and good Book to which I look for all truth and all wisdom, the Book
of Kings succeeds the Book of Judges."

328 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
On a proposition being made to ingraft in the new Constitution
a mode in which future amendments shall be raade therein, Mr, Ean
dolph addressed the Convention:
" Mr. President, I shall' vote against this resolution : and I wiL
state as succinctly as I can, my reasons for doing so, I believe that
they will, in substance, be found in a very old book, and conveyed in
these words : ' Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof Sir, 1 have
reraarked since the commenceraent of our deliberations, and with
no small surprise, a very great anxiety to provide iox futurity. Gen
tlemen, for example, are not content with any present discussion of
the Constitution, unless we will consent to prescribe for all time here
after. I had always thought him the most skilful physieian, who,
when called to a patient, relieved hira of the existing raalady, with
out undertaking to prescribe for such as he might by possibility en
dure thereafter.
Sir, what is the amount of this provision ? It is either mischiev
ous, or it is nugatory. I do not know a greater calamity that can
happen to any nation than having the foundations of its governraent
unsettled. Doctor Franklin, who, in shrewdness, especially in all that
related to domestic life, was never excelled, used to say that two
movings were equal to one fire. And gentlemen, as if they were
afraid that this besetting sin of republican governments, this rerum
novarum lubido (to us a very homely phrase, but one that comes pat
to the purpose), this maggot of innovation, would cease to bite, are
here gravely raaking provision that this Constitution, which we should
consider as a reraedy for all the ills of the body politic, may itself be
amended or modified at any future time. Sir, I am against any such
provision. I should as soon think of introducing into a marriage con
tract a provision for divorce, and thus poisoning the greatest blessing
of mankind at its very source — at its fountain head. He has seen
little, and has refiected less, who does not know that " necessity" is
the great, powerful, governing principle of affairs here. Sir, I am
not going into that question, which puzzled Pandemonium — the ques
tion of liberty and necessity :
" Free will, flxed-fate, foreknowledge absolute ;"
but I do contend that necessity is one principal instrument of all the
good that man enjpys. The happiness pf the connubial union itself
depends greatly on necessity ; and when you touch this, you touch
the arch, the key-stone of the arch, on which the happiness and well-
being of society is founded. Look at the relation of master and
slave (that opprobrium, in the opinion of some gentlemen, to all
civilized society and all free government). Sir, there are few situa
tions in life where friendships so strong and so lasting are formed,

-THE VIRGINIA CONVENTION. 329
as in that very relation. The slave knows that he is bound indisso
lubly to his master, and must, from necessity, remain always under
his control. The master knows that he is bound to maintain and
provide for his slave so Ipng as he retains hira in his possession. And
each party accoramodates himself to his situation. I have seen the
dissolution of many friendships — such, at least, as were so called ;
but I have seen that of master and slave endure so long as there re
mained a drop of the blood of the raaster to which the slave could
cleave. Where is the necessity of this provision in the Constitution ?
Where is the use of it ? Sir, what are we about ? Have we not been
undoing what the wiser heads — I must be permitted to say so — ^yos,
sir, what the wiser heads of our ancestors did more than half a cen
tury ago ? Can any one believe that we, by any amendments of ours,
by any of our scribbling on that parchment, by any amulet, any legerde
main — charm — Abrecadabra — of ours can prevent our sons from doing
the same thing — that is, from doing as they please, just as we are
doing as we please ? It is impossible. Who can bind posterity ?
When I hear of gentlemen talk of raaking a Constitution for " all
tirae," and introducing provisions into it for " all tirae," and yet see
men here that are older than the Constitution we are about to destroy —
(I am older myself than the present Constitution — it was established
when I was boy) — it reminds me of the truces and the peaces erf
Europe. They always begin : " In the name of the most holy and
undivided Trinity," and go on to declare, " there shall be perfect and
perpetual peace and unity between the subjects of such and such po
tentates for all time to come ;" and in less than seven years they are
at war again.
Sir, I ara not a prophet nor a seer ; but I will venture to predict
that your new Constitution, if it shall be adopted, does not last twenty
years. And so confident ara I in this opinion, that if it were a pro
per subject for betting, and I was a sporting character, I believe I
would take ten against it. It would seem as if we were endeavoring
(God forbid that I should insinuate that such was the intention of
any here)' — as if we were endeavoring to corrupt the people at the
fountain head. Sir, the great opprobriura of popular government is
its instability. It was this which made the people of our Anglo-
Saxon stock cling with such pertinacity to an independent judiciary,
as the only means they could find to resist this vice of popular govern
raents. By such a provision as this, we are now inviting, and in a
manner prompting, the people to be dissatisfied with their govern
ment. Sir, there is no need of this. Dissatisfaction will corae soon
enough. I foretell now, and with a confidence surpassed by none I ever
felt on any occasion, that those who have been the raost anxious tp
destroy the Constitution of Virginia, and to substitute in its place
this thing, will not be more dissatisfied now with the result of our

330 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
labors, than this new Constitution will very shortly be opposed by all
the people of the State. I speak not at random. I have high autho
rity for what I say now in my eye. Though it was said that the
people called for a new state of things, yet the gentleman from Brooke
himself (Mr, Doddridge), who came into the Legislative Committee
armed with an axe to lay at the root of the tree, told the Oonvention
that he would sooner go home and live under the old Constitution
than adopt some of the provisions which have received the sanction
of this body. But I am wandering from the point.
Sir, I see no wisdom in making this provision for future changes.
You must give governments time to operate on the people, and give
the people time to become gradually assimilated to their institutipns.
Almost any thing is better than this state of perpetual uncertainty.
A people may have the best forra of government that the wit of man
ever devised ; and yet, from its uncertainty alone, mayj in effect, live
under the worst governraent in the world. Sir, how often must
I repeat, that change is not reform. I am willing that this new Con
stitution shall stand aS long as it is possible for it to stand, and that,
believe me, is a very short time. Sir, it is vain to deny it. They
may say what they please about the old Constitution, The defect is
not there. It is not in the forra of the old edifice, neither in the de
sign nor the elevation — it is in the matei'ial— it is in the people of
Virginia. To my knowledge that people are changed, from what thej'
have been. The four hundred men who went out to David, were in
debt. The partisans of Csesar were in debt. The fellow-laborers of
Cataline were in debt. And I defy you to show me a desperately in
debted people any where, who can bear a regular sober government.
I throw the challenge to all who hear me. I say that the character
of the good old Virginia planter — the man who owned from five to
twenty slaves, or less, who lived by hard work, and who paid his debts.
is passed away. A new order of things is corae. The period has
arrived of living by one's wits — of living by contracting debts that
one cannot pay — and above all, of living by office-hunting. Sir, what
do we see ? Bankrupts — branded bankrupts, giving great dinners 
sending their children to the most expensive schools — giving grand
parties^and just as well received as any body in society. I say, that
in such a state of things, the old Constitution was too gppd for them •
they could not bear it. No, sir, they could not bear a freehold suf
frage and a property representation. I have always endeavored to
do the people justice, but I will not flatter thera ; I will not pander
to their appetite for change. I will do nothing to provide for change,
I will not agree to 'any rule of future apportionraent, or to any pro
vision for future changes, called araendments of the Constitution.
They who love change — who delight in public confusion — who wis.h
to feed the caldron and make it bubble, may vote, if they please for

THE VIRGINIA CONVENTION. 331
future changes. But by what spell — -by what formula are you going
to bind the people to all future time ? Quis custodiet custodes ? "The
days of Lycurgus are gone by, when we could swear the people not
to alter tjie Constitution until he should return — animo non reverten
di. You may make what entries on parchment you please. Give
me a Constitution that will last for half a century — that is all I wish
for. No Constitution that you can make will last the one-half of half
a century. Sir, I will stake any thing short of my salvation, that
those who are malcontent now, will hi more malcontent three years
hence, than they are at this day. I have no favor for this Constitution.
I shall vote against its adoption, and I shall advise all the people of
my district) to set their faces— aye, and their shoulders against it.
But if we are to have it, let us not have it with its death warrant in
its very face : with the fades hypocratica — the sardonic grin of death
upon its countenance."
The resolution was rejected by a large majority, and the Jonven-
tion determined that the new Constitution should contain in itself
no provision for future amendments.
As the most distinguished member on the floor, Mr. Eandolph
was assigned the duty of closing the business of the Convention.
" Mr. Chairman," said he, " for the last time, I throw myself up
on the indulgence and courtesy of this body. I have a proposition
to submit, which, 1 flatter myself— which I trust — I believe, will be
received with greater unanimity .than any other which has been offer
ed in the course of our past discussions, with perfect unanimity.
You will perceive, sir, that I allude to your eminent colleague, who
has presided over our deliberations. When I shall have heard him
pronounce from that chair, the words — ' This Convention stands ad
journed sine die,' I shall be ready to sing ray political nunc diniittis ;
for, it will have put a period to three months, the raost anxious and
painful of a political life, neither short nor uneventful. Having said
thus much, I hope I may be permitted to add, that, notwithstanding
any heat excited by the collision of debate, I part from every member
here, with the most hearty good-will to all. But I cannot consent
that we shall separate, without offering the tribute of my approbation,
and inviting the House to add theirs — infinitely more valuable — to
the conduct of the presiding officer of this Assembly. If it were a
suitable occasion, I might embrace within the scope of my motion,
and of my remarks, his public conduct and character elsewhere, with
which I have been long and intimately acquainted ; but this, as it
would be misplaced, so would it be fulsome. I shall, therefore, restrict
myself to the following motion :
'"¦Resolved, That the impartiality aud dignity with which Philip P.
Barbour, Esq., hath presided over the deliberations of this House,

332 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
and the distinguished ability whereby he hath facilitated the dispatch
of business, reeeive the best thanks of this Convention.' "
At the tirae of this adjournment, no man stood higher than John
Eandolph in the estimation of the members or of the people. He
had won greatly on their affections. A more familiar contact, and
closer observation of the man, had served to remove many prejudices-
They began to comprehend and appreciate one who had been so long
the victim of wilful misrepresentation, and of calumny. Notwith
standing the boldness with which he spoke unpleasant truths in the
Convention, his manner, on the whole, was so raild and conciliatory,
his wisdom and his genius so conspicuous, that they won for \\m the
esteem and the veneration of every body. His friends, delighted with
this state of things, wrote to him frpm all quarters, cpngratulating
him on this agreeable termination of his labors in the Convention.
Here is one of his letters in answer to a friend who had written him
on this subject :
" How I have succeeded in gaining upon the good opinion of the
public — as you and others of ray friends tell me I have done — I can
not tejl. I made no effort for it, nor did it enter into my imagina
tion to court any man, or party, in or out of the Convention. It is
most gratifying, nevertheless, to be told by yourself and ethers, in
whose sincerity and truth I place the raost unbounded reliance, that
I have, by the part I took in the Convention, advanced rayself in the
estiraation of my country. With politics I am now done ; and it is
well to be able to quit winner."

CHAPTEE XLI.
MISSION TO RUSSIA.
Before Mr. Eandolph took his seat in the Conventipn he had been
offered the mission to the Court of St. Petersburgh. The President's
letter, making the offer, was highly flattering to him. It was in the
following words : Washington, Sept. 16, 1829.
Dear Sir: The office of Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plen
ipotentiary to Eussia will soon become vacant, and I ara anxious that
the place should be filled by one of the raost capable and distin
guished of our fellow-citizens.

MISSION TO RUSSIA. 333
The great and rapidly increasing influence if Eussia in the af-
feirs of the world, renders it very important that our representative
at that Court should be of the highest respectability ; and the expe
diency of such a course at the present moment is greatly increased
by circumstances of a special character. Among the number of our
statesmen from whom the selection might with propriety be made, I
do not know one better fitted for the station, on the score of talents
and experience in public affairs, or possessing stronger claims upon
the favorable consideration of his country, than yourself Thus im
pressed, and entertaining a deep and grateful sense of your long and
unceasing devotion to sound principles, and the interest ol the peo
ple, I feel it a duty to off'cr the appointment tc- you.
In discharging this office I have the double satisfaction of seek
ing to promote the public interest, whilst performing an act most
gratifying to myself, on account of the personal respect and esteem
which I have always felt and cherished towards you.
It is not foreseen that any indulgence as to the period of your
departure, which will be required by a due regard to your private af
fairs, will conflict with the interests of the mission : and I sincerely
hope that no adverse circumstances may exist, sufficient to deprive
the country of your services.
I have the honor to be, with great respect,
Your most ob't serv't, Andrew Jackson.
The Hon. John Eandol-ph op Eoanoke.
This letter, as it must necessarily have been, was general, and
diplomatic in its terms ; but it was sufficiently explicit to show that
Mr. Eandolph was needed for a special service ; that his great talents
and experience rendered him, in the judgment of the President, pe
culiarly fitted for the service, and that no delay which might be re
quired for his private affairs, would affect the interests of tbe mission.
The Secretary of State, Mr. Van Buren, who inclosed the above
coramunication, stated in his letter that " the vacancy spoken of by
the President will be effected by a recall which he feels it to be his
duty to make, and the notice of which will be sent the moment your
answer is received."
To the President's invitation Mr. Eandolph repliedj
Roanoke, Sept. 24, 1829.
Sir : By the last mail I received, under Mr. Van Buren's cover,
your letter, submitting to my acceptance the mission to Eussia.
This honor, as unexpected as it was unsought for, is very much
«Bhanced ia my estimation, by the very kind and flattering terms in

334 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
which you have been pleased to couch the offer of the appointment,
May I ba pardoned for saying, that the manner in which it has been
conveyed could alone have overcome the reluctance that I feel at the
thoughts of leaving private life, and again embarking on the storray
sea of federal politics. This I hope I may do without any impeach
ment of my patriotism, since it shall in no wise diminish my exer
tions to serve our country in the station to which I have been called
by her chief magistrate, and under these "circumstances cf a special
character" indicated by your letter. The personal good opinion and
regard, which you kindly express towards me, merit and receive my
warmest acknowledgments.
I have the honor to be, with the highest respect, sir, your most
obedient and faithful servant, John Eandolph cf EoanoqE.
To Andrew Jackson, Esq., President of the U. S.
Mr. Eandolph was not called upon to assume the duvies of his
mission till the month of May, 1830, when the appointment was first
made known to the public. This was not occasioned by any expressed
wish on his part for a delay. It was caused by circumstances over
which the President himself had no control ; and which were to him
the source of much vexation.
Every thing was done by the President and Mr. Van Buren to
render the appointment agreeable. General Harailton, and others,
had solicited the post of Secretary of Legation for Mr. Cruger, of
South Carolina. The reply was that the President had decided to
leave that matter altogether to Mr. Eandolph. In a letter to him,
February 25, 1830, Mr. Van Buren says: "If he (Cruger) will ac
cept, and you approve, no objections will be raade from any quarter."
About a raonth afterwards he was informed that the friends of
Mr. Cruger had declined for him, he not being yet returned from
Europe ; and was requested to look about hira to suit himself
What followed is thus explained by him in a letter to Dr. Brock
enbrough, dated Friday, June 4, 1830:
" Thanks for your caution ; but I was forearmed. This matter
was left entirely to rae. I had a full account of the late incurabent
long ago. I waited as long as was practicable for Mr. Cruger, and
this day sevennight I sent off Clay, who received the appointraent
the morning of his arrival. He says : ' He (the P.) told me he
wished you to sail by the 15th of June, as the vessel would be ready
at Norfolk by that time. As I could not get an audience before
eleven o'clock, I have no time to add more. The P. will write to

MISSION TO RUSSIA. 335
you to-day.' (I shall not receive this until Monday.) ' The commis
sion for me will be made out to-morrow or next day, and your in
structions as soon as possible. He told me, that although he would
havo liked very rauch to have shaken you by the hand, yet he would
not put you to the inconvenience pf coming to this place.'
" This is vigorous procoeding. Last Friday I broached the sub
ject of my appointment to this youth. After talking of my disap
pointment in regard to Mr Cruger, I most unexpectedly offered it
to him. It was an electric shock. That evening (in two hours after
themail arrived) he left me ; and about the same time at the termi
nation of the week I have his letter, which must have been mailed at
twelve on the noon of his arrival in Washington."
About the latter part of the month of June Mr. Eandolph sailed
frora Harapton Eoads. His acceptance of this raission has been
rauch condemned : many of his best friends disapproved of it ; they
thought it was inconsistent with his former professions. 1 They seemed
to wish that it might be always said of hira — he never accepted office —
lived and died in the service of the people — the great commoner.
But this was taking a limited view of the subject. It must be re-
raerabered that Mr. Eandolph had retired frora public life ; the ses
sion that closed the 4th of March, 1829, put an end to his legislative
career; his health was feeble^ and his only hope of a prolonged
existence was in travelling and sojourning in a better cliraate than
that of his native land. All his plans had a reference to that object;
he Ippked for nothing, expected nothing, from the Governraent. In
this state of things a distinguished and important appointment was
offered him.
On whom could the President have more appropriately bestowed
the most signal evidence of his approbation and confidence ? He was
by far the most illustrious man in the ranks of the adrainistration,
and had done more than any other individual to pull down the for
raer, and to build up the present dynasty. As the President most
happily expressed himself, he was raoved to raake the appointraent
from " a deep and grateful sense of Mr. Eandolph's long and unceas
ing devotion to sound principles and the interest of the people." To
have neglected bestowing some mark of distinguished honor on such
a man, would have betrayed such a spirit of injustice and ingratitude
as to arouse the indignation of the country.
What more appropriate office could have been assigned him?
The departments at Washington, the missions to London and to

336 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
Paris, were too confining, laborious, and vexatious in their details foi
his feeble health. At the distant court of St. Petersburgh he could
not be rauch perplexed with business ; while, at the same tirae, to
give dignity and importance to his raission, he had assigned him a
special duty, the results of which might greatly redound to the good
of the country, while it required only occasional attention, and could
not suffer by delay.
In accepting this appointment, he only carried out his original
design of going abroad in search of health ; while, at the same time,
¦he served his country in a station she had pressed upon him as an
evidence to foreigners of her distinguished regard. But he had said,
effice had no charms for him ; in his condition, a cup of cold water
would be more acceptable. All this was true. Had he sought a
change of administration for the sake of office — had he retired from
the service of the people " to drudge in the laboratories of the depart
ments, or to be at the tail of the corps diplomatique in Europe," he
might have been charged with inconsistency. But no one could
justly accuse him of seeking to overthrow the adrainistration of Mr.
Adams frora personal considerations. " Sir," said he, " my ' church
yard cough' gives rae the soleran warning, ihat, whatever part I shall
take in the chase, I may fail of being in at the death. I should think
myself the basest and the meanest of men — I care not what the
opinion of the world might be — I should know myself to be a scoun
drel, and should not care who else knew it, if I could permit any mo
tive connected with division of the spoil, to mingle in this matter
with ray poor, but best exertions for the welfare of ray country."
None but the most uncharitable, could doubt the truth and the sin
cerity of this declaration. But it so happened that Mr. Eandolph
did survive, and that the new adrainistration called on hira to leave
his retireraent, and to perform an important service for the country,
in the diplomatic department. What answer could he give ? I have
no desire for office ; its drudgery would be intolerable to rae, in my
feeble health. I am aware of that, says the President, but there is a
special object to be accoraplished at one of the most important courts
in Europe. " I can think of no one more able than yourself, or that
will bring more weight of character into the service. I beg of you,
for the sake of the ccuntry, tP accept the office. What answer could
he give, to this appeal to his patriotism ? Sir, I ara the champion of

MISSION TO RUSSIA. 337
the people, and will only serve them. I will not accept your bribe,
to close my eyes and silence my tongue. Such an answer would have
been worthy of Diogenes (whose part he was expected to play on this
occasion), but not of a patriot and a statesman, who is willing to servo
his country in any capacity ; and who knows that a faithful discharge
of his duties, in whatever station, is a good service performed for the
benefit of the people. Mr. Eandolph gave the only answer that was
becoming in hira to give — " May I be pardoned for saying that the
manner in which it has been couched (the appointment) could alone
have overcome the reluctance that I feel at the thoughts of leaving
private life, and again embarking on the stormy sea of federal poli
tics. This I hope I may do, without any impeachment of my patri
otism, since it shall in no wise dirainish my exertions to serve our
country in the station to which I have been called by her Chief Magis
trate." Had Mr. Eandolph declined the office so warmly pressed
upon hira, it would have heen a condemnation of the administration
in the beginning. It would have been a declaration to the world that
he had no faith, no confidence in the man he had been so instrumen
tal in elevating to the presidency. As he did not thus feel, it would
have been unpatriotic and unwise, to take a course that would mani
fest such distrust. Indeed, Mr. Eandolph had no other alternative,
without doing great violence to his true sentiments, but to accept the
appointraent, at whatever cost to his private interests ; and it was a
great sacrifice ; " it has been ray ruin," says he, " body and estate, this
Baltic business.''
Mr Eandolph arrived in St. Petersburgh about the.last of August
He writes to Dr. Brockenbrough, 4th September :
" My reception has been all that the most fastidious could wish.
You know I always dreaded the summer climate, when my friends
were killing me with the climate of Eussia before my time. Nothing
can be more detestable. It is a comet ; and when I arrived it was in
perihelion. I shall not stay out the aphelion. Heat, dust impal
pable, pervading every part and pore, and actually sealing these last
up, annoying the eyes especially, which are farther distressed by the
glare of the white houses. Insects of all nauseous descriptions, bugs,
fleas, mosquitos, flies innumerable, gigantic as the empire they in
habit ; who will take no denial. Under cover of the spectacles, they
do not suffer you to write two words, without a conflict with them.
This is the land of Pharaoh and his plagues — Egypt, and its ophthal
mia and vermin, without its fertility — Holland, without its wealth,
VOL, n. 15

338 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH,
improvements, or cleanliness. Nevertheless, it is beyond all compar
ison, the most raagnifioent city I ever beheld. But you raust not
reckon upon being laid in earth ; there is, properly speaking, no such
thing here. It is rotten rubbish on a swamp ; and at two feet you
come tp water. This last is detestable. The very grpund has a bad
odor, and the air is not vital. Two days before my presentation to
the Emperor and Empress, I was taken with an ague. But my poor
Juba lay at the point of death. His was a clear case of black vomit ;
and I 'feel assured that in the month of August, Havana or New
Orleans would be as safe for a stranger as St Petersburgh. It is a
Dutch town, with fresh-water-river canals, &c. To drink the water
is to insure a dysentery of the worst type.
" In consequence of Juba's situation, I walked down one morning
to the English boarding-house, where Clay had lodged, kept by a
Mrs. Wilson, of whom I had heard a very high character ae a nurse,
and especially of servants. I prevailed upon her to take charge of
the poor boy, which she readily agreed to do. I put Juba, on whom
I had practised with more than Eussian energy, into my carriage, got
into it, brought him into the bedroom taken for myself, had a blazing
fire kindled, so as to keep the therinometer at 65° morning, 70° af
ternoon ; ventilated well the apartment ; poured in the quinine, opium,
and port wine ; snake-root tea for drink, with a heavy hand (he had
been previously purged with mercurials), and to that energy, under
God, I owe the life of my dear faithful Juba."
Mr. Eandolph very soon learnt, on his arrival, that the special
object of his raission could not at that time be accomplished. " There
has been,'' says he, " a game playing between my predecessor and a
certain great man, in which M. has fairly beaten hira, at his own wea
pons ; most disgracefully 'tis true for M., but not less so for the other
party. This is the secret of that delay so vexatious to General
Jackson, so injurious to me, and so destructive to the success of my
mission. The day before I left Hampton Eoads, Count Nesselrede's
star sunk temperately tp the West, and Prince Lieven became the
Lcrd of the ascendent. The waters of Carlsbad are only like ypung
unmarried ladies' dropsical affections, for which they are sent down to
their friends in the country, a decent cover for what all consider a
virtual superseding of the minister."
Add to this change in the Ministry, the revolution in France,
and in Belgium, the rebellion in Poland, and the cholera then raging
through Europe, and it may readily be imagined that Eussia was not
in a condition to deliberate on such matters, as might without preju
dice be postponed.

MISSION TO RUSSIA. 339
The Emperor had as much as he could do to attend to affairs at
home. The spedal subject of Mr. Eandolph's mission was delayed,
and as he had no particular object connected with his public duties to
detain hira, he sought refuge in a more genial climate.
He writes from London, Wednesday, Sept 29, 1830: "I write
raerely to tell you that after having been lifted on board the coach
and steamboat at St. Petersburgh on the 7th — 19th instant, I landed
this morning at 8 on the Custora-House Wharf, able to walk a few
steps." October 28, he writes : " I have letters from St. Petersburgh, one
a ' note' from Count Nesselrode, as late as the 6th of this raonth, and
I ara daily in expectation of others frora the same quarter. On Sun
day, if I have strength, we go to New Market, to attend the 3rd
October or Houghton meeting. This will be a fine theme for the
coalition presses. No raatter. Let the curs bark since they cannot
bite. I have been so often left for dead and rose again, that they raay
despair pf victory over ray feline political lives.''
Many ridiculous stories were told in the United States about Mr.
Eandolph's conduct and reception in Eussia. In allusion to this sub
ject, he writes to his friend :
" The yearnings of my heart after home,_have been stifled by the
monstrous and raalignant caluranies which have been heaped upon ray
unoffending head. To them I have but to oppose the honor of a
gentleman, upon which I declare them to be utterly false and ground
less. " My official correspondence will flatly contradict the most mischie
vous of thera, as regards the public interest.
" Nothing could be more cordial than my reception in Eussia. It
was but yesterday (Dec. 19, 1830) that I had my first interview with
Prince Lieven since his return to this court, and ray reception was
like that of a brother.
" On my arrival at St. Petersburgh I took up my abode at the
principal Hotel, Demouth's, where I staid one week.
" Furnishing myself with a handsome equipage and four or five
horses, I called proraptly on every diplomatic character, whether Am
bassador, Envoy, or Charge, or even Secretary of Legation, frora the
highest to the lowest Not content with sending round my carriage
and servants, I called in person and left my cards.
" Count Athalin, the new representative of France, promptly called
on me (being a later comer), and the next day, being ill a-bed, I sent
my coach and Secretary of Legation to return his visit I had pre
viously called on the Charge d' Affaires of France under Charles X.

340 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
" I had net, during my spjourn in St. Petersburgh, the slightest
difference with any one, except a British subject, and that was on tha
construction of a contract This man (my landlord) and his niece
were my fellow-passengers from Cronstadt, and we parted on the most
civil and friendly terms.
" He is not the author of these slanders.
" Before I thought of cancelling the bargain with Smith, I had ap
plied to Mrs. Wilson to receive and nurse ray poor Juba. I reraoved
to her house myself, not as a boarder, but a lodger, and took a room
on the ground fioor. Except Clay and Capt. Turner, of the ship
Fama of Boston, to whom I intrusted ray faithful Juba, I did not
set eyes upon one of the inmates of the house. Capt. T. at my re
quest was often in my apartraent, and to hira I fearlessly appeal for
the falsehood of these calumnies, so far as I came under his observa
tion. They are utterly false.
" ' The Court Tailor.' A day or two after I got to Demouth's
Hotel, a person very unceremoniously opened my parlor door and ad
vanced to my bed-room, where I was lying on a sofa. He was the
Aanerican Consul's Tailor, and said, ' he had been sent fpr,' but
seemed abashed at finding the Consul with me, I, seeing through the
trick (it is universally practised there), told him he had been misin
formed, and the man apologized and withdrew. He was sent for
about ten days afterwards, and made some clothes for Mr. Clay.
" I did not refuse to land at Cronstadt. The authorities came on
board to visit me, and when they returned, I entered the steamboat
and proceeded up to St. Petersburgh.
" My dress, on presentation to their Imperial Majesties, was a full
suit of the finest black cloth that London could afi'ord ; and, with the
exception of a steel-cap sword, was the dress of Mr. Madison during
the late Convention. (I had indeed no diamond buckles.) In the
same dress, never worn except upon those two occasions (with the
exception of gold shoe and knee buckles, adopted put of pity to Mr.
McLane, and laying aside, at his instance, the sword), I was presented
at court here On neither occasion did I think of ray costume after
I had put it on ; nor did it attract observation ; and I am well satis
fied that the love of display on the part of some of our own foreign
agents, and the pruriency of female frontlets for coronets and tiaras,
have been at the bottom of our court-dress abroad. It is not expected
or desired, that a foreign minister shall have exacted from hira what
is the duty of a subject. I saw Prince TaUeyrand at the King's
levee as plainly dressed as I' was. But what satisfies me on the
subject is, that Prince Lieven, on whose goodness I threw myself for
instruction at St. Petersburgh, and who saw me in the dress (chosen
by Polonius's advice), never hinted any thing on the subject ; but
truly said that ' his Majesty the Emperor would receive rae as one
gentleman receives another ;' and such was the fact."

MISSION TO RUSSIA. S4,l
Mr. Eandolph afterwards described this interview to some of his
friends. He said he went to the Palace, passed through a number of
guards and officers splendidly dressed, and was introduced to the Em
peror alone. He was a handsome young man, dressed in uniform.
But a difficulty arose from Mr. Eandolph's speaking French imper
fectly, and the Emperor not speaking English. The Emperor sent
for some one that could interpret for thera ; but after a little tirae
they managed to understand each other — Mr. Eandplph speaking
French very slewly, and the Emperor answering in the sarae raanner.
At length, the Emperor asked him if he wished to see the Empress ?
Mr. E. replied that he did. The Emperor then bowed, and Mr.
Eandolph bowed himself out of the presence backwards, according to
the etiquette of the court. He was then conducted to another part
of the Palace, and introduced, among a large assemblage of ladies,
where he was presented to the Empress, she being in advance of the
rest. He described her as being very handsome. She questioned
hira whether he had ever been at court before. He said he had not ;
that it was the first time he had ever been in the presence of royalty.
She asked him if he knew Mr. Monroe, who had been aide-de-camp to
Prince Constantine, and afterwards to the Emperor? He said he
did not. She said he was a very fine young man, and a great favo
rite with the Emperor ; and asked if he was not the son of the Post
master-General ? He replied that he was not ; but was the son of
the postmaster at Washington. She asked hira if he was not a rela
tion of President Monroe ? He told her he was not. After some
further conversation, Mr. Eandolph said soraething which made the
Empress laugh " most vociferously." The audience soon ended, and
Mr. Eandolph had again to bow himself out backwards ; " and it was
lucky," said he, " that I happened to be near the door."
On the 22d of January, 1831, Mr. Eandolph wrote to his friend,
Mark Alexander, Esq., a late colleague from the Mecklenburgh Dis
trict, then in Washington :
" I am daily and hourly in the hope of hearing from Eussia. My
absence from that country has not been of the slightest detriment to
our affairs in that quarter. Before ray departure, I had put the im
perial rainistry in full possession of our propositions and views, and
have since been awaiting their answer, which the revolutions in France
and Belgium and the insurrection of Poland (to say nothing of the
cholera morbus) have retarded. The Eussian government have been

342 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
too much engrossed by these events, and by the feverish state of
Europe, to attend to subjects which may as well be settled next year
as now, not being of pressing necessity, and Eussia having but a
secondary interest in thera. If my health shall permit, and there
be the most remote prospect of success in the objects we have in
view (or any of them), I shall return as soon as the Baltic is open."
On the 19th of February he writes to Dr. Brockenbrough :
" Count Nesselrode, who sa,js that ' Mr. Eandolph has justly an
ticipated the cause of delay on the part of the Imperial Ministry,'
promises me as speedy an answer as the present disturbed state of
Europe will permit them to give. It commenced in July last, and
the political atmosphere seems to thicken. I shall probably return
to Eussia in April or May, and I fear that I shall have to pass an
other winter in Europe — south of the Alps, of course. The barking
of the curs against me in Congress I utterly despise. I think I can
see how sorae of them, if I were present, would tuck their tails be
tween their hind legs, and slink — aye, and stink too. Perhaps the time
raay corae when I may see some of thera, not face to face, for their
eyes could not meet raine, I know by experience,
" I could give you a great deal of speculation upon the present
state of Europe ; for when I please, I can be as dull as another ; but
perhaps the next advices raight overthrow all ray conjectural esti
mates, and leave me, like other builders of theories, a laughing-stock,
until some new folly took off attention from my case. It remains to
be seen whether Philip Louis, who is no Philip Augustus, can arrest
the march of the revolution of July, and chain France to the car of
the Holy Alliance, Here I am in the focus of European intrigue,
and watching like a cat, I think, however, it requires not the eyes
of a lynx, or any other of the feline tribe, to see that this present
' government,' as 'tis the fashion to call it, have no stpmach tc reform
or to liberalism, or to any thing but the emoluments and patronage
of office. There are illustrious exceptions — Lord Althorp and Sir
James Graham, for example — but my Lord Grey & Co, are of a very
different temper,"
May 2d, he writes: ".The heroic resistance of the Poles has
found ample occupation for the councils as well as the arms of Eus
sia ; but I fear that the contest cannot be prolonged beyond the
present season. It raakes one's heart sick to think of the catas
trophe. My thoughts are shared between the Poles and my friends
at home ; a sinking of the heart comes over me when I think of
either ; a sensation inexplicable, but most painful."
June 4th, he speaks of the late political changes at home : " Yes
terday, with your letter, I received the intelligence of the resignation
of our cabinet. The course of events during the past year is enough
to perplex and puzzle abler judgments than mine. I have read the

OPIUM EATER. 343
letters of V B. and the P. raore than once, and with intense interest,
At this distance, and with my imperfect knowledge of the state of
affairs, it may be presumptuous in me to give an opinion ; but by
such lights as 1 have, the step taken by V. B. seems manly and ju
dicious — worthy of his character, and of his attachment to Gen'l
Jackson, whose reply is worthy of all praise. I cannot help feeling
the deepest concern for the old hero, thus, as it were, left to struggle
nlone against his foes ; and I sincerely and devoutly pray, that he
may form an administration that will contribute to his repose and
glory, as well as the welfare of his country 
" Lord Palmerston entertained the corps diplomatique, in honor
of the king's birth-day, and did me the honor to include me in his in
vitation. I went, because I did not feel at liberty to decline. It
was, as you raay suppose, very grand, but very dull. I was flattered
by his lordship's polite attentions, and gratified by the cordial recep
tion of P. Lieven, with whom I had a good deal of conversation."
"If I abstain," says he, June 16, "from saying anything on pon
tics, it is not because I feel indifferent to the state of public opinion
at home. Far from it ; and I hope, when you get to New-York, that
your promised letter will enlighten me on that head. The events
which have taken place during ray absence, seem to have unhinged
and unsettled every thing. Tt is a matter of self-gratulation to all
who are unconnected with them."
In the autumn, Mr. Eandolph returned to the United States,
much reduced in health. When he landed in New- York, his old
friend, Mr. Harvey, hastened to see him, and was greatly shocked
at his emaciated appearance. " His eagle-eye,'' says he, " detected,
by ray countenance, what was passing in ray mind, and he said, in a
mournful tone of voice : ' Ah, Sir, I am going at last ; the machine is
worn out ; nature is exhausted, and I have tried in vain to restore
her.' ' Why,' replied I, forcing a sraile, 'you told me the same thing
some years ago, and yet here you are still.' ' True,' rejoined he,
' but I am seven years nearer the grave} "

CHAPTEE XLII.
OPIUM EATEE.
On his way horae, October, 1831, Mr. Eandolph spent a few days in
Eichmond. He was entirely prostrate — ^never left his bed-room—

3-44 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
rarely his bed; but his friends visited him frequently, and they
speak in raptures of his brilliant and instructive conversation. None
of thera detected in his discourse any thing more than an occasional
" flightiness," produced by fever — aggravated, perhaps, by the use of
ppiura, to whose soothing qualities he had been compelled to resort,
to quiet the pangs of that inexorable disease, which, like the vulture
in the heart of Prometheus, had plunged its talons in his vitals,
and consumed them with remorseless fangs, frora the cradle to the
grave. Mr. Eandolph made no secret pf his use of opiam at this time.
" I live by, if not upon opium," said he to a friend. He had been
driven to it as an alleviation ef a pain tp which few mprtals were
doomed. He could not now dispense with its use. '' I am fast sink
ing,'' said he, " into an opium-eating sot, but, please God ! I will shake
off the incubus yet before I die ; for whatever difference of opinion
may exist on the subject of. suicide, there can be none as to ' rush
ing into tlie presence of our Creator ' in a state of drunkenness, whe
ther produced by opium or brandy.'' To the deleterious influence of
that poisonous drug, may be traced raany of the aberrations of raind
and of conduct, so rauch regretted by his friends, during the ensu
ing winter and spring. But he was, by no raeans, under its constant
influence. During this period, h. wrote almost daily to his friend.
Dr. Brockenbrough. Those letters furnish incontestable evidence
that, when they were written at least, his feelings were calm, and his
judgment as unclouded as it ever had been.
He hastened up frora Eichraond to Charlotte Court-house, to ad
dress the people on court day, the first Monday in November. The
subjeci' of his speech, among other things, was his conduct while min
ister to the Court of St. Petersburgh. His anxiety to explain this
matter, so unusual with him, and his coldness of manner towards his
friends, caused many of them to suspect that he was not altogether
himself at that time. The next Monday, he addressed the people of
Buckingham. On his return next day, Nov. 15, he wrote from Char
lotte Court-house to Dr. Brockenbrough :
" On my road to Buckingham, I passed a night in Farmville, in
an apartment which in England they would not have thought fit
for my servant ; nor on the continent did he ever occupy so mean a
one. Wherever I stop, it is the same — walls black and filthy — bod

OPIUM EATER. 345
and furniture sordid — furniture scanty and mean, generally broken —
np mirror — no fire-irons — in short, dirt and discomfort, universally
prevail, and in most private houses the matter is not mended. The
cows milked half a mile off — or not got up, and no milk to be had at
any distance — no Jordan— in fact, the old gentry are gone and tho
nouveaux riches, where they have the inclination, do not know how to
live. Biscuit not half cuit, every thing animal and vegetable, smear
ed with melted butter or lard. Poverty stalking through the land,
while we are engaged in political metaphysics, and, amidst our filth
and vermin, like the Spaniard and Portuguese, look down with con
tempt on other nations, England and France especially. We hug
our lousy cloaks around us, take another chaw of PMacker, float the
room with nastiness, or ruin the grate and fire-irons, where they
happen not to be rusty, and try conclusions upon constitutional
points." The great degeneracy of the times, was the constant theme of his
discourse. He could not shake the sad reflection from his mind.
When he thought of what Virginia had been and what she was, he
was stung to the quick. His late experience of the high cultivation,
the comforts, and the refinements of English society, brought the
contrast of' the past and the present more vividly to his recollection.
Many thought him mad" on this subject. But little could they com
prehend the depth of his feelings, or the anguish of his soul, when
he so often exclaimed, " Poor old Virginia ! poor old Virginia ! " What
they conceived to be the ebullitions of a diseased fancy, were the la
mentations of a statesman and patriot over the ruins of his country,
which his prophetic eye had leng foreseen, and his warning voice had
in vain foretold ! The old gentry are gone ; none knew better than
he, the force of this truth. He "saw what others could not see ; he
saw, from the sea-board to the mountains, nothing but desolation and
poverty, where the fires of a noble and generous hospitality had burn
ed on a thousand hearths. He remembered sires and grandsires,
whose degenerate sons, lite the Eoman youth, pointed to the statues
and the monuments of their noble ancestors, instead of achieving a
monuraent for themselves by their own great deeds.
This was the theme of Mr Eandolph's discourse at Prince Ed
wards Court-house, where, on the third Monday in November, he
addressed the people. He passed in review all the old families of Vir
ginia, alluded to the fathers and grandfathers of many then standing
around him ; spoke of their energy, sagacity, and efficient usefulness
VOL. II. 15*

346 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
of character. Then, addressing himself to one individual in parti
cular, as was his custom, he said : You, sir, '• will be the first to admit
the higher claims of your father on the country, for general utility
and energy of character. I am too old (he sportively added) to know
much of his sons personally, but I will venture to affirm, that placed
in your father's shoes, and Imving to keep off tlie calf whilst the wife
milked the cow, you never would have achieved what he has done in
point of character and fortune. The young people, now-a-days,
have too much done for thera, for them to exert themselves as their
fathers and grandfathers have done." He then spoke of many illus
trious men, whpse names adorn many pages of our earliest and bright
est history. Henry, Masop, and others ; not one has left a son equal
to their father. " In short," said he, " look at the Lees, Washingtons,
Eandolphs — what woful degeneracy !"
What had all this to do with the politics of the day ? on which
he was expected to talk to the people. Was there ever such a scat
ter-brain speech ? Some turned away, shook their heads, and said,
"the man is mad;'' others maliciously misrepresented what he said,
and went about telling people that he had slandered his old friends
and neighbors. He struck at the root of the disease, however — probed
the wound to its core ; the men of seventy-six were gone ; their sons.
if not degenerate, were not equal to their fathers !
It cannot be denied, that Mr Eandolph attributed this great
change in the condition of Virginia, raainly to the policy of Mr. Jef
ferson. The destruction of the law of inheritance, followed by the
embargo and the non-intercourse system, he conceived, gave the fin
ishing stroke to her prosperity. " The embargo," he said, " was the
Iliad of all our woes." The blind fidelity with which the people of
Virginia followed Mr. Jefferson in all his schemes, is thus humor
ously described: "I cannot live (says .le, March, 1832,) in this mis
erable, undone country, where, as the Turks follow their sacred
standard, which is a pair of Mahoraet's green breeches, we are gov
erned by the old red breeches of that prince of projectors, St Thom
as, of Canifwz^bury ; and surely, Becket himself never had more pil
grims at his shrine, than the saint of Monticello."
Another source of great annoyance and excitement to Mr. Ean
dolph, was the conduct cf his negrees and overseers during his ab
sence. He suspected that they had taken up a notion he would never

OPIUM EATER. 347
be able to return home again, and that they might do as they pleased,
without the fear of his displeasure. His sudden appearance among
thera took thera by surprise, and they were not prepared to give an
account of their stewardship. Whether he had just cause of com
plaint, is not for us to determine. One thing is certain, he had to
spend near two thousand dollars to buy provisions for their suppprt.
One would suppose that three hundred negroes, on the best lands in
Virginia, raight support themselves.
" I have been in a perpetual broil (says he, November 15th, 1831,)
with overseers and niggers. My head man I detected stealing the
wool that was to have clad his own and the other children ; the re
ceiver the very rascal (one of Mr, Mercer's 'housekeepers,') wha
flogged poor Juba, who had no wool except upon his head, I have
punished the scoundrel exemplarily, and shall send him to Georgia
or Louisiana, at Christmas. He has a vrife and three fine children.
Here is a description of his establishment : a log house of the finest
class, with two good rooms below, and lofts above ; a barrel half-full
of meal (but two days to a fresh supply) ; steel shovel and tongs, bet
ter than I have seen in any other house, my own excepted ; a good
bed, filled with hay ; another, not so good, for his children ; eight
blankets ; a large iron pot, a.nd Dutch-oven ; frying-pan ; a large fat
hog, finer than any in my pen ; a stock of large pumpkins, cabbages,
&c., secured for the winter. His house had a porch, or shed, to it,
like my own."
Mr. Eandolph had an old servant by the name of Essex, the
father of John. " He was the mpst gcSiteel servant I ever saw," says
Mr. Mar;-hall. Mr. Eandolph called him familiarly, " Daddy Essex.
Although the relation of raaster and servant was kept up between
thera, it was done with more cordiality and kindness in the raanner
of each, than had ever been witnessed between master and slave. It
was the custom of Essex, when leaving his master's service at night,
to give him the usual salutations, and this -civility was returned by
Mr. Eandolph. But on the present occasion, whenever Essex came
into his presence, he immediately flew into a passion, 'accused him of
keeping a tavern in his absence, entertaining a pedler, and once or
twice, even went so far as to strike him with a stick. Every body
knows the inestimable value he set on John and Juba, but they now
shared his wrath. " When I arrived in New-York," said he, " I
would not have taken for John or Juba, or the smallest child either
of them had, two thousand guineas : but now, T would as soon sell

348 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
them to a negro-trader as not," They were actually driven out of the
house, into the corn-field, and other awkward fellows taken into their
places. " Moses goes rooting about the house like a hog," Mr, Ean
dolph's friends witnessed, during the winter, many ludicrous scenes
between him and his servants. But his fits of excitement did not
last long. His extreme irritability, occasioned by disease, and the
stimulants he was compelled to use to alleviate pain, may have caused
him to magnify the offences of his slaves. But he was prompt in
making reparation. His favorite body-servants were soon restored to
their proper station. About the first of February, he called on the
overseer, and asked him to ride out with him ; said he was going to
make friends with his head man, Billy, whom he had put to work in
the ditch. They rode to the ditch, and Mr. Eandolph said, " Your
servant, Billy." " Your servant, master," replied Billy. ' Well,
Billy," said he, " I have come to make friends with you." '• Thank
you, master,'' said Billy. "¦' Billy," said Mr. Eandolph, " you stole
my wool, and sold it for fifty cents." " Yes, mjister." " But I think
I am in debt to you, Billy, for I took your pumpkins and your house,
and hog, tumed you out of a comfortable house, and gave you three
damned whippings. And now, I think I owe you something, and I
have come up to settle with you." As the result of the settlement
Billy was restored to his place and to his property.
Mr. Eandolph's raind continued to be disordered, and his health
to grow more and more feeble, till the raonth of April, when many of
his friends expected he would die. About the twenty-fifth of that
month, he was moved to the house of his friend, Mr. John Marshall,
at Charlotte Court-house. He frequently sent for Mr. Marshall into
his roora ; when that gentleraan entered, he would say, " You are too
late — it is all over." Sometimes he had a small bell in his hand,
which he would ring slowly, saying, " It is all over.'' Sometimes he
would make John ring the bell. He would sometimes ask Mr. Mar
shall, " Will you, stand by me?" as"" if he was apprehensive of some
personal confiiet. He continued much in this condition till the mid
dle of May, with this difference, that his memory gave, way almost
entirely, and he had sunk into a kind of stupor.
About the middle of May, after being reduced almost to a skele
ton, his mind began to clear away, his memory returned, and his feel
ings were calm and kind towards every person of whom he spoke. Id

OPIUM EATER 349
a very short time he seemed to be perfectly himself The first time
Mr. Marshall saw him, when a change in his mind was distinctly
marked, they were in the room alone. Mr. Eandolph burst into
tears, and said, " Bear with me, ray friend ; this is unmanly, but I am
hard pressed." He seemed to be in great pain, and said, " It is im
possible — I speak it reverently — that the Almighty himself, consist
ent with his holy counsel, can withhold this bitter cup. It is neces
sary to afflict me thus, to subdue my stubborn will." He then
prayed a few words audibly, shut his eyes, and seemed to be prayinj,
in alow whisper. From this time his spirits were good; he uni
formly appeared cheerful and in good temper, conversed handsoraely,
and spoke of men, whether his political enemies or others, in good
humor ; his appetite seemed to have improved, and he gradually
gained flesh. From this time forth, with rare exceptions, his mind
continued unclouded to the day of his death. But it is astonishing
how one in his condition, could prolong for a twelve-month, an exist
ence so attenuated, so feeble.
In August he writes — " My lungs made a noble resistance, but,
like the Poles, they were over-powered. The disease is now phthisis,
and the tubercles are softening for breaking out into open ulcers ;
liver, spleen, heart (I hope the pericardium), but above all, the sto'in-
ach. diseased, and this last, I fear, incurable. My diet is water-gruel, for
breakfast ; tomatoes and crackers for dinner, and no supper. Yet,
these taken in the very smallest quantities that can sustain life, throw
me into all the horrors of an indigestion ; so that I put off eating as
long as possible, and thereby make a dinner of my breakfast, and a
sort of supper at five or six o'clock, of my dinner. Sleep I am nearly a
stranger to. Many nights I pass bolt upright in ray easy chair ; for
when propped up by pillows in bed, so as to be nearly erect from the
hips upwards, Icough incessantly and am racked to death."
Some weeks after this, he says to Dr. Brockenbrough — " After I
wrote to you on Sunday night, the next day I had a most violent
fit of hysteria. I was so moved by the ingratitude of my servants,
and my destitute and forlorn condition, that I ' lifted up my voice and
wept ;' wept most bitterly. Yet I ara now inclined to think that I
did the poor creatures sorae injustice, by ascribing to ingratitude,
what was the insensibility of their condition in life. But every body,
you only excepted, abandons me in my misery."

350 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
CHAPTEE XLIII.
THE CONSUMMATION,
Andrew Jackson was elected by State-rights men. There wera
many others united under his banner, who agreed cnly in their sen
timents of opposition to the ruling powers ; but the political princi
ples that transformed and harmonized the discordant elements into a
consistent whole, were the doctrines of the old Eepublican party.
The centripetal tendency of the adrainistration of Adams and Clay,
had awakened and alarmed the country. Mr, Clay, with a boldness
and an energy peculiar to himself, had pressed forward his American
sytera to its final and full consuramation. The Bank was omnipotent ;
the principle of Protection for protection's sake, was distinctly recog
nized, and nothing remained to complete and to fasten the system on
the country, but to carry out those magnificent plans of Improvement
which had been projected.
Eandolph, Van Buren, Tazewell, and other distinguished leaders
of the old Eepublican party, sounded the alarm, and raised the stand
ard pf opposition. Andrew Jackson was the man selected as their
leader. Whether he fully concurred with them in principles and in
purposes; could not be known — ^his past life ha4 not been in the line
of polities — he was pledged tp no system — the great object was to de
feat the present dynasty, and to take the chances of directing his
course by wise counsel, hereafter. Their object is explained by the
familiar and homely illustration used by Mr. Eandolph, to satisfy his
own constituents. " When you have a faithless, worthless overseer,"
said he, " in whom you could place no confidence, and have resolved
to dismiss him, did you ever change your mind, beeause, for no raat
ter what reason, you could not get the man that you preferred, to
every other? or have you been satisfied to turn him off, and employ
the best raan that you could get ?"
Jackson well fulfilled the expectations pf thpse who elevated him to
the Presidency. The first great measure of his administration, was
to put an end to a system of Internal Improvement, which had been
commenced by the Federal Government, and was rapidly growing up
into a magnificent scheme of fraud, speculatipn and expenditure, far

THE CONSUMMATION. 35]
surpassing the South Sea or Mississippi scheme, that ingulfed all
Europe in bankruptcy and ruin. The veto to the Maysville Eoad
bill, arrested this great evil, and did much to bring back tho people to
a just and sound interpretation of the Constitution.
All reflecting men, who have any regard to the words and the
spirit of a written, limited, and well-defined grant of power to a Fed
erative Union of States, are now satisfied that the construction of
roads and canals, and other means of intercommunication, properly
belongs to the States, To take it from tnem and to exercise jurisdic
tion within their borders, in the construotion of highways, was so
gross a violation of the Constitution, and so bold an assumption of
tho reserved, rights of the States, as to render all other usurpations of
rainor consideration. Like Aaron's rod, it swallowed up every thing
else. Besides, tho States are better acquainted with their own re
sources, and can conduct the means of their development more eco
nomically, more judiciously, and more extensively. If they, in the pros
ecution of their plans, have involved themselves in so large a debt,
suffered so much frora fraudulent legislation, as to be driven, some to
the necessity of repudiation, others to the verge of bankruptcy, what
would have been the condition of the whole Union, had they contin
ued those plans so zealously commenced, and entered on the prosecu
tion of those magnificent surveys which their engineers had reported
as practicable, necessary and proper? The States ceasing tp be
spvereign and independent — ceasing to act as a counterweight to the
centralizing influence of the Federal Governraent, would have been
claraorous suppliants for its bounty ; fraudulent combinations would
have carried every thing in the national legislature — some of the
States would hsve had large improvements conducted, through their
borders, while others would have none ; and all would have been load
ed with a debt, only surpassed by the crushing burthen of England.
Eesorting to that tribunal power, intrusted to the Executive, not
only for the preservation of its own independence and dignity, but
for the protection of the rights reserved to the States and the people,
Andrew Jackson, by the simple exercise of its authority, arrested the
centralizing tendency of the Eepublic, restored the States to their
proper equilibrium, rebuked the spirit of Federal usurpation, and
saved his country from ruin.
When Jackson took in his hand the helm of State, the Bank of

g52 LIFE OF .lOIIN RANDOLPH.
tbe United States was in the plenitude of its power ; its numerous
branches, in close affiliation and absolute dependence on a central
power, cccupied the most important and commanding positions. Its
influence over the currency and the commercial operations of the
country, was unbounded. It could make or unmake, build up or de
stroy, at pleasure. Its directory, seated in their marble palace at
Philadelphia, like the gods on Olympus, could make rain or sunshine,
as it pleased their sovereign will. Even the Eepresentatives of the
people, sent to examine into the abominations and sorceries of this red
harlot, were dazzled with her brightness. They bowed obsequiously
before her golden altars, and returned rejoicing, and told the people
that she was not only pure, but worthy of all trust and confidence.
No greater combination of power ever existed under any government.
The East India Company, that held an Empire under its sway, and
burthened the seas with its treasures, could not boast of greater autho
rity. To possess the money influence in a commercial country, is to
control its movements, not only in the affairs of government, but in
the remotest ramifications of society. It is holding Leviathan with
a hook. This power, all pervading and absolute, was unquestionably
held by the Bank of the United States. The time had come, not to
supplicate, but to demand a renewal of her charter, and a continua
tion of her enormpus power for another generation. Shall the de
mand be granted ? was the question now submitted to the Eepresenta
tives of the people, and to the President.
January 10th, 1832, Eandolph says, "I Icnoiv Jackson to be firm
on the Bank of the United States ; and I believe the tariff too. In
United States Bank stock there will be a fall, for every thing is set
tled by the London prices ; and tliei'e will be a panic. But the Bank
will bribe through I detest it, and shall do all I can to defeat it,
even by coming into Congress next election si le Roy (Peuple) le
veut. When the Union shall crumble to pieces, the Bank will stand.
The courts and its debtors will sustain it, in each grain of our rope of
sand," In one particular, this prediction has happily not been veri
fied. The Bank is an " obsolete idea," while the Union still survives,
we trust, to live for ever. But the other part of the prophecy was lit
erally fulfilled ; the Bank did create a panic, and did bribe through.
While the bill was under discussion, Mr Eandolph wrote to his
friends, urging them to resistance. Some of them frora the Soith

THE CONSUMMATION. 353
were offended with Jackson, and he was afraid they would Buffei their
feelings to influence them on this occasion. To Mark Alexander, Esq.,
his old colleague, he says, " I have just received (June 26, 1832) your
blank envelope, covering the Telegraph of the 21st, I write to en
treat you to tell Warren E. Davis and his colleagues (alas ! for poor
Johnston), that if, by their votes, the United States Bank bill shall
pass the House of Eepresentatives, thoy will reeeive the curses, loud
and deep, of every old school Eepublican of the South. To embar
rass Jackson is a small game, compared with saddling the country
with that worst and most flagrant of the usurpations of tho Federal
Government, and the most dangerous engine against the rights, and
very existence of the States, I am warm and abrupt, but I am dy
ing, and have not time to be more courtly and circumlocutory. The
Tariff, the Internal Improvement jobs, and the Supreme Court, com
bined, are not to be put into the scale against this accursed thing.
The man who supports the Bank and denounces the Tariff as uncon
stitutional, may take his choice between knave or fool, unless he ad
mits that he is both.
" In one case, the power to lay duties, excises, &c., is granted ; in
the other, no such power is given. The true key is, that the abuse
under pretence of exercise of any power (midnight judiciary, &c.) is
unconstitutional. This unlocks every difficulty. Killing a man may
be justifiable homicide, chance-medley, manslaughter or murder, ac
cording to the motives and circumstances of the case. An unwise,
but honest, exercise of a power, may be blamed, but it is not unconsti
tutional. But every usurped power (as the Bank) is so.''
The Bank bill, however, passed both Houses of. Congress, and
was submitted to the President, for his approval. Eandolph was not
mistaken in his man. " I know Jackson to be firm on the Bank of
the United States." Against that formidable institution, he stood
up and battled alone. In his reading of the Constitution, there was
no authority for it ; to his observation and experience, the existence
of such a power was dangerous to a free republic. Satisfied in his
mind that the Bank of the United States was both unconstitutional
and inexpedient, it was vain to remonstrate. It wq,s idle to tell hira
that Washington had sanctioned it ; he had as clear a judgment, as
pure a patriotism, as Washington. It was useless to tell him, that
good and wise men, yielding to the cry of distress, had, for the second

354 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
time, established a Bank ; and that Madison, surrendering his own
judgment to precedence and authority, had approved it. No such
distress existed now ; no such plea of necessity could be urged.
Now was the time, in profound peace, to apply the knife and the
cautery, to cut out and destroy the cancer that was threatening to
consume the Constitution of the country. Deserted by all his friendSj
as he had been on raany trying occasions before, while a military
chieftain, he was left alone to rely on his own clear judgment and un
shaken fortitude. When he vetoed the Bank bill, and caused the
public money to be removed from the custody of that institution, his
friends earnestly entreated him not to do it. But there was one that
stood by him — a kindred spirit, that would perish with hira in the
ruins rather than have yielded.
Had Eandolph been on the floor of Congress, the Bank bill would
never have passed. He would have scourged the money-changers
frora the temple. But the veto saved the Eepublic, and he was re
joiced at it " Tell Leigh (says he, August 2,) that the veto mes
sage, and some other things, have made a Jackson man of me, and
that I shall be delivered of ray vote without /weeps, or the Csesarean
operation." But another deed, still greater, if possible, had yet to be per
formed, before the Governraent could be rescued from its centripetal
tendency, and those features of a federative republic that, in the
vicissitudes of forty years, had well nigh been effaced, could be re
stored to their original distinctness and beauty. A tariff of duties,
onerous to the agricultural interests, and laid solely for the protection
of other interests, and as a bounty, had been imposed. The protect
ive policy was distinctly recognized as a principle of legislation ; its
friends regarded it as firraly established, and proclairaed it to be as
fixed as fate. But this principle of protection, according to States-
right doctrine, which was the basis and the essential element of the old
Eepublican party, could only be Ippked upon as a violent interpola
tion. The raost erainent statesmen of the strict-construction school
denounced it as an unwarrantable abuse of power, if indeed it was
not a plain infraction of the letter of the Constitution, which gave
power to lay and collect duties, imports, and taxes, merely for the
purposes of revenue. But one of the States of the Confederacy, be
lieving that the right tp irappse a tax on one class of industry, as a

THB CONSUMMATION, 355,
bounty to another, had not been granted, and hearing a stt.rn ma
jority assert the doctrine, and pronounce it as fixed as fate, pro
claimed that the only safety of tho Eepublic lay in State inter
position. Our fathers did not complain of the burthen of their taxes, but
contended against the right of taxation without representation. But
South Carolina contended that her grievances were even greater than
those of our ancestors ; she protested against the tariff systera, as
founded in usurpation and injustice, and at the sarae time coraplained
of the onerous nature of the taxes iraposed She was heavily taxed
for the benefit of others, and yet had no voice in the imposition.
Feeling herself aggrieved, and having appealed, as she thought, in
vain for redress, she took the remedy of her wrongs in her own hands.
The only conservative power of this Confederative Eepublic is in the
States. What matters it how nicely adjusted may be the balance of
power between the executive, legislative, and judicial departments at
Washington, when they have swallowed up all the powers that were
reserved to the States and to the people. Take away the rights that
belong to Virginia and the other States as bodies politic, and those
that belong to their people, as citizens of each State respectively
(strictly speaking, there is no such thing as an American citizen) ;
take away these domestic guards, destroy these home securities that
we hold in our own hands, and where is the guaranty for our liber
ties ? We should no longer be a federative republic of equal and
sovereign States, but the miserable, degraded provinces of a consoli
dated empire, where a sectional and selfish majority will rule the nation
with a rod of iron. The States would be recreant to their trust, and
unworthy the veneration of their sons, did they not stand by those rights
30 essential to their own existence, and sb invaluable as the means of
protecting and preserving the liberties of their people. This is what
M assachusetts did in the days of the embargo ; it is wh at South Carolina
did on the present occasion. She asserted (and surely she was the
best judge) that the tariff which had been forced upon her, was not
only ruinous, but as unjust and as unwarrantable as the right clairaed
by the British parliaraent to tax the Colonies without their consent.
She protested that the tax was forced upon her by those who had no
common interest, and declared her resolution to refuse obedience to
the law. Whether, she acted wisely — whether she threw herself

356 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
anon those constitutional rights reserved to her as a State — or whethej
she resorted to the ultimate right of the oppressed under every form
of government, is for the general historian and the political philoso
pher tp determine. The biographer of John Eandolph has only to
say tLat he sympathized with the State, and went with her, heart
and soul, in the fearful struggle that ensued. He had battled with
this tariff systera from the beginning, and foresaw the dangerous con
sequences to which it would lead. When the subject was under
discussion in 1824, he said, on the floor of the House of Eepre
sentatives ;
"And what, sir, are we now about to do? For what was the.
Constitution formed? To drive the people of any part of this
Union from the plough to the distaff? Sir, the Constitution of the
United Stated never would have been formed, and if formed, would
have been scouted una voce by the people, if viewed as a means of
eff"eoting purposes like this. 'The Constitution was forraed for exter
nal purposes, to raise armies and navies, and to lay uniform duties on
iihports, to raise a revenue to defray the expenditure of such objects.
What are you going to do now? To turn the Constitution wrong-
side out ; to abandon foreign commerce and exterior relations — I am
sorry to use this Frenchified word — the foreign affairs which it was
established to regulate, and convert it into a municipal agent ; to carry
a system of espionage and excise into every log-house in the United
States. '* * * * But no force — no, sir, no force short of Eussian des
potism — shall induce me to purchase, or, knowing it, to use any arti
cle from the region of country which attempts to cram this bill down
our throats. On this wo of the South are as resolved, as were our
fathers about the tea, which they refused to drink ; for this is the
same old question of the stamp act in anew shape, viz. : whether they
who have no common feeling with us shall impose pn us not raerely
a burdensome but a ruinous tax, and that by way of experiment and
sport. And, I say again, if we are to subrait to such usurpations,
give me George Grenville, give me Lord North, for a master. It
is in this point of view that I most deprecate the bill. If from the
language I have used, and gentlemen shall believe I am not as rauch
attached to this Union as any one on this floor, he will labor under
a great mistake. But there is no magic in this word Union ; I value
it as the means of preserving the liberty and happiness of the people.
Marriage itself is a good thing ; but the marriages of Mezentius were
not so esteemed. The marriage of Sinbad, the Sailor, with the corse
of his deceased wife, was an union ; and just such an union will this
be, if, by a bare raajority in both Houses, this bill shall become a
law, And I ask, sir, whether it will redound to the honor of this

THE CONSUMMATION, 357
House, if this bill should pass, that the people should owe their escape
to the act of any others, rather than to, us? How will it answer for
the people to have to look up for their escape from oppression, not to
their immediate representatives, but to the representatives of the
States, or, possibly, to the Executive? '«'*** In case this bill
should be, unhappily, presented to him (the President) for his signa
ture, I hope, sir, he will scout it as contrary to the genius of our
government, to the whole spirit and letter of our Confederation. I say
of our Confederation, Blessed be God, it is a Confederation, and that
it contains within itself the redeeming power, which has more than
once been exercised, and that it contains within itself the seeds of pre
servation, if not of this Union, at least of the individual commonwealths
of which it is composed,"
In another part of the same speech (1824), Mr. Eandolph de
clared :
" This is net the last tariff measure ; for, in less than five years,
I would, if I were a betting man, Wager any odds thaj we have ano
ther tariff proposition, worse by far than that, amendments to which
gentlemen had strangled yesterday by the bowstring of the previous
question. ***** "When I recollect that the tariff of 1816 was
followed by that of 1819-20, and that by this measure of 1823-4,
I cannot believe that we are at any time hereafter long to be exempt
from the demands of those sturdy beggars, who will take no denial.
Every concession does but render every fresh demand and new con
cession more easy. It is like those dastard nations who vainly think
to buy peace,"
They did follow in rapid succession; the tariff of 1828 and of
1832, each based on the principle of protection, each more burthen
some than those that had gone before, and proclaimed as fixed as
fate. Mr, Eandolph watched the crisis brought on by this unwise
and oppressivD legislation with intensest interest. South Carolina
had taken her position, and he knew well she would maintain it.
Though in retireraent, he was in daily correspondence with-the chief
actors on the scene ; he knew they were in earnest, that they had
counted the costs, and would not lightly hazard the dangers of a
rupture and a civil war. IiP March, 1832, before any decisive steps
Lad been taken, he spoke freely to his friends on the subject of South
Carolina nullification. He said that dreadful times were coming,
the United States Bank would be broken, and troops would be march
ing through the country ; he said "that South Carolina would not
yield  that she would fight ; that General Jackson would be glad to

358 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
get Hamilton, Calhoun, McDuffie, and Hayne into his power ; that
he had no doubt if a war came, as come he feared it must. General
Jackson would hang those gentlemen, if he could get hold pf them ;
but that the whole South would unite, for it was their interest to do
so, and there would be a bloody war of it He read letters from gen
tlemen in South Carolina, and became highly excited on the subject.
He said that if the war took place, he would have himself buckled on
his horse, Eadical, and would fight for the South to the last breath.
These expressions, the reader is aware, were used by Mr. Eandolph
under peculiar circumstances, when he was not altogether himself
Tn his cooler moments no man looked more calmly or more judi
ciously on this moraentous subject. On the 6th of December, before
he knew of the ordinances of South Carolina, or the proclaraauon of
tl e President, he writes :
" A letter "from my friend Harailton indicates the most morbid
state of excitement in South Carolina. The truth is, I have no doubt,
that imprudent and rash declarations have been made on both sides,
and have been carried frora one to the other by the earwigs that,
more or less, infest all political parties. This has put the leaders of
the two hostile divisions into the worst state of mind imaginable for
cordial and dignified reconciliation. But I have great faith in Jack
son's magnanimity, and I trust that, as soon as he finds himself in a
situation to recede without dishonor, he will make the preliminary
advances with graceful cordiality."
Had Eandolph himself been on the floor of Congress, events
might have been different. No man had more the confidence of both
parties than he had ; but unfortunately there was no one of sufficient
weight and influence, to give affairs this pacific direction, and they were
consequently hurried on to their catastrophe.
South Cai-olina, by her ordinance, proclairaed that she would not
obey a law of the United States. It was the duty of the President
to see that the laws were faithfully executed. General Jackson, by his
proclamation, pronounced his determination to see that the Tariff law
was properly enforced in South Carolina. The Proclamation contains
an elaborate argument in justification of his conduct. It cannot be de
nied that his duty required him to take sorae such course, but he sustain
ed and justified it, by a resort to the exploded doctrines and reasonings
of the old federal school ; if his arguments were true, then the principles
of the Eepublican party, on which he had hitherto acted, were fctlse.

THE CONSUMMATION. 359
It may have been a right action, but a wrong reason. All power ema
nates from the people, they are sovereign ; but the general undefined
mass of individuals, told by the head within the borders of the Uni
ted States, are not the people known to our Institutions; the citizens
of each State acting through the body politic, or a convention, or in
their primary assemblies, are the people. Whatever they shall do in
their sovereign capacity, as the people of a State, may be a revolution,
but itoan never be a rebellion ; a sovereign cannot rebel against him
self, nor against his coequal sovereigns; he may violate a compact
with them, or they may commit a breach of faith towards him, so as to
justify resistance and even war, a revolution if you please of all the
relations .existing between them, but no act of omission or aggression
between coequal and independent parties can be construed into a
rebellion. Here was Jackson's great mistake ; he did not have a clear per
ception of a federative union between coequal and independent States ;
he regarded the ordinance of the people of South Carolina, issuing
from the highest authority known to a State — their sovereign will ex
pressed in Convention — as an act of rebellion, and the men and officers
appointed to execute their will as rebels that ought to be hung when
ever taken.
So soon as Eandolph heard of this fatal proclaraation, so preg
nant with pestilent heresies, his indignation knew no bounds. The
Editer of the Eichmond Enquirer endeavored to discriminate between
the act itself and the reasoning in defence of it ; but Eandolph in
volved both perpetrator and defender in one common denunciation.
The 16th of December he says:
'' Your letter of the 12th was received late last night whilst I was
under the infiuence of morphine and blue-pill, but such was the inter
est I took in it, and. in the Jesuitical comments of Mr. Enquirer
Eitchie on the ferocious and blood-thirsty proclamation of our Djezzar
Pacha, that I did not close an eye until daybreak. I am now just
out of bed (1 o'clock, p. m.), and not more than half alive, indeed not
so rauch. " The apathy of our people is most alarming. If they do not
rouse themselves to a sense of our condition and put down this wretch
ed old man, the country is irretrievably ruined. The mercenary
troops who have embarked for Charleston, have not disappointed me
they are working in their vocation, poor devils ! I trust that no quar
ter will be given to them.

360 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
" Pray tell William Leigh to write to rae forthwith, and to give me
his full, unreserved opinion upon the state of affairs. I sometimes
distrust my own judgment in ray present diseased condition.
" I am heartily glad that my brother refuses to go to the Senate
of the U. S. I should not be sorry to see him in our Legislature,
where, as 1798-9, the resistance raust be made." January 4, 1833,
he writes to Mr. Harvey : " My life is ebbing fast What will the
New-York Evening Post say to Eitohie's apology for the Proclama
tion, in his 'Enquirer' of the first instant? Never was there so im
pudent a thing. It seems, then, that the President did not know,
good, easy man, what his Proclamation contained. Verily, I believe
it. He is now all for law and the civil power, and shudders at blood.
' Save me from my friends' is a good old Spanish proverb. But his
soi-disant friends are his bitterest eneraies, and use him as. a tool for
their own unhallowed purposes of guilty ambition. They have first
brought him into odium, and then sunk him into contempt. Alas !
alas !" January 31st he says : "I am now much worse than when I
wrote you last, and see no probability of my ever recovering suffi
ciently to leave this place. The springs of life are worn out. Indeed,
in the abject state of the public mind, there is nothing worth living
for. It is a merciful dispensation of Providence, that death can
release the captive from the clutches of the tyrant. I was not born
to endure a master. I could not brook military despotism in Europe,
but at home it is not to be endured. I could not have believed that
the people would so soon have shown themselves unfit for free govern
ment. I leave to General Jackson, and the Hartford men, and the
ultra-federalists and tories, and the office-holders aud office-seekers,
their triumph over the liberties of tlie country. They imll stand
damned to everlasting fame."
But the dying statesman resolved to raake another effort to rouse
the people, and to pluck the fallen liberties of the country from the
grasp of military despotism. The veteran of a hundred fields har
nessed himself for his last battle. The same cause that nerved his
youthful arm, now shook the palsy from his aged limbs, and kindled
in his bosora once raore its slumbering fires. The sight of mercenary
troops levied to uphold the usurpations of Government first called forth
that bold and manly eloquence, that revealed to the people the future
champion of their cause, and raade John Thorapson exclaim — he vnll
become an object of admiration and terror to the enemies of liberty.
True to the destiny thus foretold, for more than thirty years he had
successfully contended against the minions of power. But now, be
hold the same appalling scenes re-enacted before him — the hirelings

THE CONSUMMATION. 361
of Government marching through the land to trample down the rights
of the States and of the people — the same doctrines avowed — ^the
same excuses offered for the interposition of military authority —
while the people, sunk into a deep lethargy like that of sleep, are
unconscious of the " leprous distilraent" that has poisoned the fount
ains of truth, and are forgetful of the threatening dangers that sur
round them. " The apathy of our people is alarming !"
But there was no apathy in him : he saw, he felt, he acted. Lifted
into his carriage like an infant, he went from county to county, and
spoke with a power that effectually aroused the slumbering multi
tudes. Too weak to stand, he addressed them frora his seat : but
like Jupiter seated on Olyrapus, he shot forth his thunderbolts on
every hand, blasting and withering whatever stood in the way. The
sublime energies of a patriot soul were his ; they could not be re
pressed, and all the faculties of a dying frarae were summpned tp this
last effort. It was like a voice coming from beyond the tomb : there
was the skeleton of a man before them, but the people saw the fires of
an imraortal spirit beaming forth from its blazing sockets ; they heard
the trerabling accents of an expiring tongue, but felt the living words
of an inspired prophet fall upon their tingling ears. Their fathers
had heard that clear ringing voice in the days of his youth echo
sweet music through their hearts, and had clasped him to their bo
soms as their most cherished son : they now listened to his solemn
tones, like the knell of a death-bell, with silence and awe ; and re
ceived his warning admonitions with the duty and reverence of affec
tionate children.
He did not speak in vain. Throughout his old district, with
scarcely a dissenting voice, they adopted his resolutions conderaning
the tone, the teraper, and the doctrines of the Proclaraation. In the
course of his speech at Buckinghara, Mr. Eandolph is reported, on
what seeras to be good authority, to have said : " Gentleraen, I am
filled with the most gloomy apprehensions for the fate of the Union.
I cannot express to you how deeply I ara penetrated with a sense of
the danger which at this raoment threatens its existence. If Madison
filled the Executive chair, he might be bullied into some compro
mise. If Monroe was in power, he might be coaxed into some adjust
ment of this difficulty. But Jackson is obstinate, headstrong, and
fond of fight. I fear matters must come to an open rupture. If so,
VOL. IL 16

362 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
this Union is gone !" Then pausing for near a minute, raising his fin
ger in that emphatic manner so peculiar to his action as a speaker,
and seeming, as it were, to breathe more freely, he continued — " There
is one man, and one raan only, who can save this Union — that man
is Henry Clay. I know he has the power, I believe he will be
found to have the patriotism and firmness equal to the occasion."
Mr. Clay did not disappoint his expectations. Whatever may be
said of him as a statesman, none can deny that he is a true-hearted
patriot. With parental fondness he cherished his American system
— with unyielding pertinacity contended for it to the last extreraity —
but when it became a question between that and the integrity of the
Union, he did not hesitate ; like Abraham, he was ready to sacrifice
his own offspring on the altar of his country, and to see the fond idols
he had cherished perish one by one before his lingering eyes. Mainly
through his efforts the Compromise bill of 1833 was passed, the
principle of protection abandoned, the duties reduced. South Carolina
satisfied, her honor preserved, and the Union saved. But let not
Jackson be too lightly condemned. He had a difficult task tp per
form ; aside frora the heresies of his Proclamation we have not con
deraned him. There were the laws on the statute bopk ; he had
labored to get them modified : but hpwever much he might disap
prove of their character, or sympathize with those on whose shoulders
they fell as a grievous burthen, so long as they were laws, he was
bound to see them enforced. He was not the man to shrink from
his duty, and promptly declared that they should be enforced. This
was an awful moment for the Eepublic.
The most important experiment in the history of government had
to be tried. The trial had to be made, whether State sovereignty
was of any avail, or the Federal Government absolute and oranipotent.
Had Carolina failed, we should have gone down like the Eoraan Ee
public, into a consolidated empire, with all power concentrated in the
capitol, and governed by venality and corruption. Had Jackson fail
ed in his duty, and suffered the laws to be put at defiance with impu
nity, the fraternal bonds of this Union wpuld have been dissolved,
and we should have existed for a time as petty States, in perpetual
warfare, until sorae master should arise to govern them, or they should
fall, as exhausted provinces, into the hands of European ppwer. In
this awful mement, when disrupture and civil war seeraed inevitable,

THE CONSUMMATION. 363
that magnanimous spirit of comproraise, in which the Constitution
was framed, again rescued it from destruction. And so will it ever
be while the States have independence and courage to assert their
rights, and patriot souls shall guide the helm of affairs.
This was the auspicious raoment for John Eandolph to depart
He died in the midst of the battle, but the victory had been won.
The doctrine of State rights, ingrafted on the Constitution by
George Mason, developed by Jefferson, expounded by Madison, and
practised by himself, had once more triuraphed — a strict construction
of the Constitution, a total abstinence from the exercise of all powers
not specifically granted, an abandonment to the States of the right to
control all things affecting their internal and domestic affairs, was
once again to becorae the rule of action to the Federal Government,
and to be the raeans of developing a prosperity in the several States,
unparalleled in the annals of history, and of exciting araong thera a
generous, spirit of emulation, causing each to strive with all the
means of this inventive age, to excel the other in the various walks
of industry, in the arts of peace, in the deeds of arms, and in noble
acts of chivalry, that will cast, a lustre over this great Eepublic,
uneclipsed by the most brilliant achievements of ancient or modern
times. For this glorious consummation, we are indebted to John Ean
dolph, more than to any other man. His bold and masterly efforts
arrested that centripetal tendency which was rapidly destroying the
counterbalance of the States, and making them, instead of what they
are^ proud independent sovereignties, jealous of their peculiar rights,
and prorapt to defend them, mere abject provinces, bowing patiently
to encroachment so long as largesses were bestowed by the bountiful
hand of an all-powerful and concentrated empire.
Let not the absurd notion then be repeated, that he was powerful
to pull down, but feeble to build up. There it was, already built up,
that beautiful system, unknown to the world before, an imperium In
imperio ; he had nothing to add to the design of those who projected
it — leave it to its own beautiful and simple operations, and like the
solar systera, we should scarcely know of its existence save by tho
genial influence shed on the various planets that composed it ; he
taught a wise and masterly inactivity— a.M nothing to clog its mo
tion  nothing to hurry it to rack and ruin, like an unbalanced ho-

gg4 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
rologue, and the States and the Union in perpetual harmony, will

move.

" Like a star that maketh not haste.
That taketh not rest ;
 each one fulfilling
His God-given hest,"

CHAPTEE XLIV.
"I HAVE BEEN SICK ALL MY LIFE." — ¦DEA'JH.
Mr. Eandolph attempted to go to the different counties of his old
district, in the month of April, and to address the people on the days
of electipn, but he did not succeed. On the 14th of April, he writes
to Dr. Brpckenbrough. " Your letter of the 4th was received here
(Charlotte Court-house) last night, on my return from Buckingham.
I made an effort to attend that election, but was obliged to return
re infecta, and reached this place so done up by fatigue, that I have
not been able to get on to Eoanoke. Exercise by gestation is in
dispensable to ray existence ; from ten to twenty miles are requisite
to enable me to support life. I am now scuffling to get to England
in the May packet. Whether I shall succeed or not. I propose being
in Eichmond immediately after the Cumberland election, if not
sooner." He was at Cumberland on the day of election, and started
tiiat evening for Eichraond ; but was compelled to tum in at Clay Hill,
the residence of his friend Barksdale in Amelia. On the 23d, he
says : " Although more than half dead when taken out of ray car
riage, and enduring excessive pain, I passed a better night than 1
have had for two months, and was in every respect far better this
morning, than I had been within that period ; and I feel satisfied
that exercise by gestation, if I take enough of it, will greatly remit my
exhausted system. However, while I was chuckling over my success,
I suffered a fatal relapse, and the day has been spent in stupor and
pain, which did not allow me to dispense with Johnny^s presence and
services, Deo vblente, he will set out tp-mprrow by day with this
Hfter," From George W, Johnson's, near Moody's, Chesterfield,
Thursday, May 2d, he writes : " I am here very ill. I have little
expectation of ever leaving this apartment, except on men's shouL

•" I HAVE BEEN SICK ALL MY LIFE."— DEATH. 3,55
ders ; an act of iraprudence on the night of ray arrival has nearly
sealed my doom. Yet with my characteristic reaction, I may go to
Petersburg to-morrow, and on Monday, .to Eichmond. Pray, secure
me, if practicable, a parlor and bedroom adjoining, on a lower fioor,
and speak to Ball to reserve stalls for five horses and three servants.
" If my dear orother Harry be not gone, entreat him to come to
me on the receipt of this. If I -can, I will take the packet from the
Delaware for Londpn, avoiding the Irish Channel, which is the worst
as the English S. Coast is the best of climates."
He did go on to Petersburg, attended the races, made a ^eech,
passed through Eichmond, and from the Merry Oaks, Eiiday, May
17, he writes:
"Arrived here last night, through torrents of rain that delugod
the roads, and made them run like rivers, John and Juba, as wet as
drowned rats, but it was an admirable sedative {you are an ' Embro^
man, and possibly a disciple of Cullen) for John's over stimulant
¦Quant a r/wi, I came every foot of the way in torture, having been
so lumbered by John, that I raight as well have been in the pillory,
and each jolt over stone, stump, or pole, or old fence rails left in the
road, when the new one was made, or the old one ' upset ' for the be
nefit of travelling carriages, those of gentlemen in especial, as the
Waverly man has it.
" At Botts's gate. Half Sink, I was fain to call and ask the price
of his land, and sponge upon him for the night, for I was in agony,
but he was gone to the Baltimore races. So, after making some bet
ter arrangements, and watering the tits which were half choked with
thirst, I preeeeded pn over the slashes and ' cross ways ' with peine
forte et dure, to the old oaks, ignorant until then that the stage road
had been changed, or I would have taken the other, except on account
of the house. If Botts's land lay in any other county, except Hen
rico, and especially if it were on the south side, I would buy it and
take my chance for selling Spring Hill, which except in point of soil,
has every advantage over Half Sink."
This was the last letter ever written by Mr. Eandolph, to his most
cherished and confidential friend. He had,^in his last journey, pass
ed rapidly by most of the scenes rendered dear to him by the recol
lections of youth, and by the fond associations of love and friendship ;
and it so happened that he saw most of the few friends that were left
him this side of the grave. What recollections were called up, as he
passed for the last time through Amelia — ^love I love ! blighted love !
deeply buried in his heart's inmost core ! as he passed through Ches-

366 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
terfield, and looked for the last time on the tprabs pf his belpved fa
ther and mother, at old Matoax, where he had so long wished to lie
down and be at rest — Petersburgh — Eichmond — there were a few
left that still cared for him, that loved hira, and warmly pressed his
fevered hand as he passed rapidly by, on his last journey. They were
now all behind him, and he might exclaim, as he did on a former oc
casion, when he heard of the death of one endeared by early, though
mournful recollections : " Days of my cherished youth.
When all unfelt Time's footsteps fell,
And all unheeded flew,
Dreams of the morn of life, fareweU ! a long, a last farewell T'
Mr. Eandolph reached the -landing at Potomac creek, before the
arrival of the steamboat, and censiderably in advance of the Fred
ericksburg stage-coaches, which could not keep pace with his fleet
horses. When the approach of the boat was announced, he was brought
out of the room by his servants, on a chair, and seated in the porch,
where raost of the stage passengers were assembled. His presence
seeraed to produce considerable restraint on the corapany ; and though
he appeared to solicit it, none were willing to enter into conversation ;
one gentleraan only, who was a former acquaintance, passed a few
words with him ; and so soon as the boat reached the landing, all hur
ried off, and left him nearly alone, with his awkward servants as his
only attendants. An Irish porter, who seemed to be very careless
and awkward in his raoveraents, slung a trunk round and struck Mr.
Eandolph with considerable force against the knee. He uttered an
exclamation of great suffering. The poor Irishman was much terri
fied, and made the most humble apology, but Mr. Eandolph stormed
at him — would listen to no excuse, and drove him from his presence.
This incident increased the speed of the by-standers, and in a few
minutes not one was left io assist the dying man.
Dr. Dunbar, an eminent physician, of Baltirapre, witnessing what
happened, and feeling his syrapathies awakened towards a man so
feeble, and apparently so near his end, walked up to the chair, as the
servants were about to reraove their master, and said, " Mr. Ean
dolph, I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance, but I have known
your brother from my childhood ; and as I see you have no one with

"I HAVE BEEN SICK ALL MY LIFE."— DEATH. 367
you but your servants — you appear to require a friend, I will be happy
to render you any assistance in my power, while we are together on
the boat." He looked up, and fixed such a searching gaze on the
doctor as he never encountered before. But having no other raotive
but kindness for a suffering fellow man, he returned the scrutinizing
look with steadiness. As- Mr. Eandolph read the countenance of the
stranger, who had thus unexpectedly proffered his friendship, his face
suddenly cleared up ; and with a most winning smile, and real polite
ness, and with a touching tone of voice, grasping the .Doctor's hand.
he said, " I am most thankful to you, sir, for your kindness, for I do,
indeed, want a friend."
He was now, with the Doctor's assistance, carefully carried on
board, and set down in the most eligible part of the cabin. He seem
ed to be gasping for breath, as he sat up in the chair ; having recov
ered a little, he turned to the Doctor, and said, " Be so good, sir, .f
you please, as to give me your name." The Doctor gave him his
name, his profession, and place of residence.
" Ah ! Doctor," said he, " I am passed surgery — passed surgery !"
" I hope not, sir," the Doctor replied. With a deeper and more pa
thetic tone, he repeated, " I am passed surgery}'
He was reraoved to a side berth, and laid in a position where he
could get air ; the Doctor also coraraenced fanning him. His face was
wrinkled, and of a parched yellow, like a female of advanced age.
He seemed to repcse for a raoment, but presently he roused up,
throwing round an intense and searching gaze. The Doctor was
reading a newspaper.
" What paper is that, Doctpr ?"
« The  Gazette, sir,"
" A very scurrilous paper, sir — a very scurrilous paper."
After a short pause, he continued, " Be so good, sir, as to read
the foreign news for me — the debates in Parliament, if you please.''
" As the names of the speakers were raentioned, he commented on
each ; " Yes,'' said he, " I knew him when I was in England ;" then
went on to raake characteristic reraarks on each person.
In reading, the Doctor fell upon the word budget ; he pronounced
the letter u short, as in btid — ^biidget. Mr. Eandolph said quickly,
but with great raildness and courtesy, " Perrait me to interrupt you
for a moraent. Doctor ; I would pronounce that word biidget ; like oo in

368 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
book." " Very well, sir," said the Doctor, pleasantly, and continued
the reading, to which Mr. Eandolph listened with great attention.
Mr. Eandolph now commenced a conversation about his horses, which
he seemed to enjoy very much ; Gracchus particularly, he spoke of
with evident delight. As he lay in his berth, he showed his extremi
ties to the Doctor, which were much emaciated. He looked at them
mournfully, and expressed his opinion of the hopelessness of his con
dition. The Doctor endeavored to cheer hira with more hopeful views.
He listened politely, but evidently derived no consolation from the re
marks. Supper was now announced ; the captain and the steward were
very attentive, in carrying such dishes to Mr. Eandolph as they
thought would be pleasing to him. He was plentifully supplied with
fried claras, which he ate with a good deal of relish. The steward
asked him if he would have some raore claras. " I do not know," he
replied ; " Doctpr, dp you think I could take sorae more clams ?"
" No, Mr. Eandolph ; had you asked rae earlier, I would have advised
you against taking any, for they are very injurious; but I did not
conceive it ray right to advise you." " Yes you had. Doctor ; and I
would have been rauch obliged to you for doing so. Steward, I can't
take any more ; the Doctor thinks they are not good for rae."
After the table was cleared off, one of the gentleraen — the one
referred to as a former acquaintance of Mr. Eandolph's, observed that
he should like to get some inforraation about the boats north of Bal-
timoi^e. " I can get it for you, sir," replied Mr. Eandolph. " Doctor,
do me the favor to hand me a little wicker-basket, araong ray things
in the berth below." The basket was handed tp him ; it was fullpf
clippings from newspapers. He could not find the advertisement he
sought for. The gentleman, with great politeness, said, " Don't trou
ble yourself, Mr. Eandolph." Several times he repeated, "Don't
trouble yourself, sir." At length Eandolph became impatient, and
looking up at him with an angry expression of countenance, said, " I
do hate to be interrupted !" The gentleraan, thus rebuked, immedi
ately left him.
Mr. Eandolph then showed another basket of the sarae kind, filled
with similar scraps from newspapers, and observed that he was al
ways in the habit, when any thing struck him in his reading, as likely
to be useful for future reference, to cut it out and preserve it in books,
which he had for that purpose ; and that he had at home several vol
umes of that kind.

"1 HAVE BEEN SICK ALL MY LIFE."— DEATH. 369
He showed his arrangements for travelling in Europe ; and after
a while, seeing the Doctor writing, he said, "Doctor, I see you
are writing ; will you do me the favor to write a letter for rae, to a
friend in Eichraond ?" " Certainly, sir." " The gentleman," he con
tinued, stands A. No. 1, among men — Dr Brockenbrough, of Eich
mond." The letter gave directions about business raatters, princi
pally, but it contained sorae characteristic reraarks about his iorses.
He exulted in their having beaten the stage ; and concluded, " So
much for blood. Now," said he, " sign it. Doctor."
" How shall I sign it, Mr. Eandolph ? sign it John Eandolph of
Eoanoke?" " N^, sir, sign it Eandolph of Eoanoke."
It was done accordingly. " Now, Doctor," said he, ' do me the
favor to add a postscript." The postscript was added, " I have been
so fortunate as to meet with Dr.  , of  , on board this boat,
and to form his acquaintance, and I can never be sufficiently grateful
for his kind attentions to me."
So soon as the letter was concluded, Mr. Eandolph drew together
the curtains of his berth ; the Doctor frequently heard him groaning
heavily, and breathing so laboriously, that several times he approached
the side of the berth to listen if it were not the beginning of the death-
struggle. He often heard hira, also, exclairaing, in agonized tones,
" Oh Ged ! Oh Christ !" while he was engaged in ejaculatory prayer.
He now became very restless, was impatient and irascible with
his servants, but continued to manifest the utmost kindness and
courtesy towards Dr. Dunbar.
When the boat reached the wharf at Alexandria, where the Doc
tor was to leave, he approached the side of the berth, and said, " Mr
Eandolph, I must now take leave of you." He begged the Doctor to
come and see him, at Gadsby's, then, grasping his hand, he said,
¦' God bless you, Dpctor ; I never can forget your kind attentions to
me." Next day he went into the Senate chamber, and took his seat in
rear of Mr. Clay. That gentleman happened at the tirae to be on his
feet, addressing the Senate. "Eaise me up," said Eandolph, "I
want to hear that voice again." When Mr. Clay had concluded his
reraarks, which were very few, he turned round to see from what
quarter that singular voice proceeded. Seeing Mr. Eandolph, and
VOL. IL 16*

370 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
that he was in a dying condition, he left his place and went to speak
to him ; as he approached, Mr. Eandolph said to the gentleman with
him, " Eaise me up." As Mr Clay offered his hand, he said, " Mr.
Eandolph, I hope you are better, sir." " No, sir," replied Eandolph,
" I am a dying man, and I came here expressly to have this interview
with you."
They grasped hands and parted, never to meet more. .
Having accomplished the only thing that weighed on his mind,
having satisfied Mr. Clay, and the world, that, notwithstanding a
long life of political hostility, no personal animosity rankled in his
heart, he was now ready to continue on his journey, or to raeet, with
a lighter conscience, any fate that might befall him.
He hurried on to Philadelphia, to be in time for the packet, that
was about to sail from the Delaware. But he was top late ; he was
destined tp take passage in a different boat, and to a land far differ
ent from that of his beloved England. It was Monday night when
he reached the city, and the storra was very high. His friends found
hira on the deck of the steamboat, while Johnny was out hunting for
a carriage. He was put into a wretched hack, the glasses all broken,
and was driven from hotel tp hptel in search of lodgings, and exposed
all the time to the peltings of the storm. He at length drove to the
City Hotel, kept by Mr. Edmund Badger. When Mr. Badger came
out to meet hira, he asked if he could have accoraraodations. Mr.
Badger replied that he was crowded, but would do the best he could
for hira. On hearing this, he lifted up his hands, and exclaimed,
" Great God I I thank thee ; I shall be araong friends, and be taken
care of !"
Mr. Eandolph was very ill. Dr. Joseph Parish, a Quaker phy
sician, was sent for. As he entered the roora, the patient said, " I
am acquainted with you, sir, by character. I know you through
Giles." He then told the Doctor that he had attended several
courses of lectures on anatomy, and described his symptoms with
medical accuracy, declaring he must die if he cpuld npt discharge the
purifprm matter.
" How long have you been sick, Mr. Eandolph?"
" Don't ask me that question ; I have been sick all my life. I
have been affected with my present disease, however, for three years.
It was greatly aggravated by ray voyage tp Eussia. That killed me,

'I HAVE BEEN SICK ALL MY LIFE."— DEATH. 371
sir. This Eussian expedition has been a Pultowa, a Beresina to
me.'' The Doctor now felt his pulse. " You can form no judgraent by
my pulse ; it is so peculiar."
" You have been so long an invalid, Mr. Eandolph, you must have
acquired an accurate knowledge of the general course of practice
adapted to your case."
" Certainly, sir ; at forty, a fool or a physician, you know."
" There are idiosyncracies," said the Doctor, " in raany constitu
tions. I wish to ascertain what is peculiar about you."
" I have been an idiosyncracy all my life. All the preparations
of camphor invariably injure me. As to ether, it will blow rae up.
Not so with opiura ; I can take opium like a Turk, and have been in
the habitual use of it, in one shape or another, for some time."
Before the Doctor retired, Mr. Eandolph's conversation became
curiously diversified. He introduced the subject of the Quakers ;
complimented thera in his peculiar manner for neatness, economy,
order, comfort — ^in every thing. " Eight," said he, " in every thing
except politics — there always twistical." He then repeated a portion
of Jhe Litany of the Episcopal church, with apparent fervor. The
following morning the Doctor was sent for very early. He was
called from bed. Mr. Eandolph apologized very handsomely for dis
turbing him. Something was proposed for his relief He petulantly
and positively refused compliance. The Doctor paused and addressed
a few words to him. He apologized, and was as submissive as an in
fant. One evening a medical consultation was prpppsed ; he prpmptly
pbjected. " In a raultitude of counsel," said he, " there is confusion ;
it leads to weakness and indecision ; the patient raay die while the
doctors are staring at each other." Whenever Dr. Parish parted
from hira, especially at night, he would receive the kindest acknow
ledgments, in the most affectionate tones : " God bless yen ; he does
bless you, and he will bless you."
The night preceding his death, the Doctor passed about two hours
in his chamber. In a plaintive tone he said, " My poor John, sir, is
worn down with fatigue, and has been compelled to go to bed. A
most attentive substitute supplies his place, but neither he nor you,
sir, are like Jehn ; he knows where to place his hand on any thing,
in a large quantity of baggage prepared for a European voyage."

372 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
The patient was greatly distressed in breathing, in consequence of
difficult expectoration. He requested the Doctor, at his next visit,
to bring instruments fpr perfprming the operation of bronchotomy,
for he could not live unless relieved. He then directed a certain
newspaper to be brought to him. He put on his spectacles, as he
sat propped up in bed, turned over the paper several times, and ex
arained it carefully, then placing his finger on a part he had selected,
handed it to the Doctpr, with a request that he wpuld read it. It
was headed " Cherokee." In the course of reading, the Doctor came
to the word " omnipotence," and pronounced it with a full sound on
the penultirnate — omnipotence. Mr. Eandolph checked him, and
pronounced the word according to Walker. The Doctor attempted
to give a reason for his pronunciation. " Pass on,'' was the quick
reply. The word impetus was then pronounced with the e long, " im
petus." He was instantly corrected. The Doctor hesitated on the
criticism. " There can be no doubt of it, sir." An immediate ac
knowledgment of the reader that he stood corrected, appeared to sat
isfy the critic, and the piece was concluded. The Doctor observed
that there was a great deal of sublimity in the composition. He di
rectly referred to the Mosaic account of creation, and repeated " ' Let
there be light, and there was light.' There is subliraity."
Next morning (the day on which he died). Dr. Parish received an
early and an urgent message to visit him. Several persons were in
the room, but soon left it, except his servant, John, who was much
affected at the sight of his dying master. The Doctor remarked to
him, " I have seen your master very low before, and he revived ; and
perhaps he will again." '¦ John knows better than that, sir." He
then looked at the Doctor with great intensity, and said in an earn
est and distinct raanner, " I confirra every disposition in my will, es
pecially that respecting ray slaves, whora I have raanuraitted, and for
whom I have made provision."
"I ara rejoiced to hear such a declaration from you, sir," replied
the Doctor, and soon after, proposed to leave him for a short time, to
attend to another patient "You raust not go,'' was the reply;
"you cannet, ypu shall npt leave me. John ! take care that theDpc-
tpr dpcs net leave the rpom." John soon locked the door, and re
ported, " Master, I have locked the door, and got the key in my
pocket : the Doctor can't go now."

" I HAVE BEEN SICK ALL MY LIJ-E ."-DEATH. 373
He seemed excited, and said " If you do go you need not return."
The Doctor appealed to him as to the propriety of such an order, in
asmuch as he was only desirous of discharging his duty to another
patient. His manner instantly changed, and he said, "I retract
that expression." Seme tirae afterwards, turning an expressive Ippk,
he said again, " I retract that expression."
The Doctor now said that he understood the subje-ct of his cora
munication, and presumed the Will would explain itself fully. He
replied in his peculiar way—" No, you don't understand it ; "¦" know
you don't. Our laws are extremely particular on the subject of
slaves — a Will may manumit them, but provision for their subsequent
support, requires that a declaration be made in the presence of a
white witness ; and it is requisite that the witness, after hearing the
declaration, should continue with the party, and never lose sight of
him, until he is gone or dead. You are a good witness for John,
You see the propriety and iraportance of your reraaining with me ;
your patients must make allowance for your situation. John told me
this morning — ' master, you are dying.' "
The Doctor spoke with entire candor and replied, that itwas rath
er a matter of surprise that he had lasted so long. He now made
his preparations to die. He directed John to bring him his father's
breast button ; he then directed him to place it in the bosom of his
shirt. It was an old fashioned, large-sized gold stud. John placed
it in the button hole of the shirt bosora — but to fix it corapletely, re
quired a hole on the opposite side. " Get a knife, said he, and cut
one." A napkin was called for, and placed by John, over his breast.
For a short time he lay perfectly quiet, with his eyes closed. He
suddenly roused up and exclaimed — " Eeraorse ! reraorse !" It was
thrice repeated — the last time, at the top of his voice, with great agi
tation. He cried out — " let rae see the word. Get a Dictionary, let
me see the word." " There is none in the room, sir." Write it down
then — let me see the word." The Doctor picked up one of his cards,
" Eandolph of Eoanoke" — "shall I write it on this card?" "Yes,
nothing more proper." The word remorse, was then written in pen
cil. He took the card in a hurried manner, and fastened his eyes on
it with great intensity. " Write it on the back," he exclaimed — it
was so done and handed hira again. He was extremely agitat
ed — " Eeraorse ! you have no idea what it is ; you can form no idea

374 LIFE OF JOHN RANDOLPH.
of it, whatever ; it has contributed to bring me to my present situa
tion—but I have looked to the Lord Jesus Christ, and hope I have
obtained pardon. Now let John take your pencil and draw a line
under the word," which was accordingly done. " What am I to do with
the oard?" inquired the Doctor. " Put it in your pocket — take care
of it — when I am dead, look at it."
The doctor now introduced the subject of calling in spme addi
tional witnesses to his declarations, and suggested sending down stairs
for Edmund Badger. He replied — " I have already comraunicated
that to him." The doctor then said — " With your concurrence, sir, I
will send for two young physicians, who shall remain and never lose
sight of you until you are dead ; to whom you can make your decla
rations — my son. Dr. Isaac Parish, and my young friend and late pu
pil. Dr. Francis West, a brother of Capt West"
He quickly asked—" Capt: West of the Packet ?" " Yes, sir, the
same." " Send for him — he is the man — I'll have him."
Before the door was unlocked, he pointed towards a bureau, and
requested the Doctor to take frora it a remuneration for his services.
To this the Doctor promptly replied, that he would feel as though he
were acting indelicately, to comply. He then waived the subject, by
saying — " in England, it is always custoraary."
The witnesses were now sent for, and soon arrived. The dying
man was propped up in the bed, with pillows, nearly erect. Being
extreraely sensitive to cold, he had a blanket over his head and shoul
ders ; and he directed John to place his hat on, over the blanket,
which aided in keeping it close to his head. With a countenance full
of sorrow, John stood close by the side of his dying master. The
four witnesses — Edmund Badger, Francis West, Isa-ac Parish, and
Joseph Parish, were placed in a semi-circle, in full view. He rallied
all the expiring energies of mind and body, to this last effprt. '' His
whole soul," says Dr. Parish, " seemed concentrated in the act. His
eyes flashed feeling and intelligence. Pointing towards us, with his
long index finger, he addressed us."
" I confirm all the directions in my Will, respecting my slaves,
and direct them to be enforced, particularly in regard to a provision
for their support.'' And then raising his arm as high as he could, he
brought it down with his open hand, on the shoulder of his favorite
John, and added these words — " especially for this man.'' He then

"I HAVE BEEN SICK ALL MY LIFE." -DEATH. 375
asked each of the witnesses whether they understood hira. Dr. Jo
seph Parish explained to them, what Mr. Eandolph had said in regard
to the laws of Virginia, on the subject of manumission — and then ap
pealed to the dying man to know whether he had stated it correctly.
" Yes," said he, and gracefully waving his hand as a token of disrais-
sion, he added — " the young gentleraen will reraain with me."
The scene was now soon changed. Having disposed of that sub
ject raost deeply impressed on his heart, his keen penetrating eye
lost its expression, his powerful mind gave way, and his fading imagi
nation began to wander amid scenes and with friends that he had left
Isehind. In two hours the spirit took its flight, and all that was
mortal of John Eandolph of Eoanoke was hushed in death. At a
quarter before twelve o'clock, on the 24th day of June, 1833, aged sixty
years, he breathed his last, in a chamber of the City Hotel, No,
41 North Third Street, Philadelphia.
His remains were taken to Virginia, and buried at Eoanoke, not
far from the mansion in which he lived, and in the midst of that
¦' boundless contiguity of shade," where he spent so many hours of
anguish and of solitude. He sleeps quietly now ; the squirrel may
gambol in the boughs above, the partridge may whistle in the long
grass that waves over that solitary grave, and none shall disturb or
raake thera afraid.
That innuraerable funeral bells were not tolled, and eulogies pro
nounced, and a monument was not erected to his memory in the
capitol of his native State, is because Virginia has not yet learned to
" understand" and to appreciate her wisest statesman, truest patriet,
and mpst devpted spn.

THE END.

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