i It K! YAlF UNIVEHSiP' 3 9002 07672 7909 ^ 'a YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY tLargf#:jpaprr CEUttton AMERICAN STATESMEN EDITED ET JOHN T. MORSE, JR. rCT THIRTy-TWO VOLUMES VOL. XVI. THE JEFFERSONIAN DEMOCRACY JOHN RANDOLPH ^^?-0/^7i^^ ¦> I '* c 4i 'itt eiTi LARGE PAPEK KDITIOIT .-%¦ .>^«/. y '. /.V/. :'//„,,,/,.//,/, HOUaHTON, MIFFI.IN & CO American ^tattemm JOHN RANDOLPH HENEY ADAMS BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY (CJe miatt^ite 3^n00, €ambxS)se MDCCCXOVm ffiae l^minels Cnpie? }Brinab Bnmbzt ^.P.^. 1W..AW* ' "O COPYRIGHT, 1882 AND 1898, BY HENBY ADAMS COPYRIGHT, 1898, BY HOUGHTON, MLFFLIN SCO. ALL EIGHTS BESERVED CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE 1. Youth 1 n. Virginian Politics 25 HI. In Hakness 48 rv. A Centhalizino Statesman .... 74 V. Vaulting Ambition 95 VI. Yazoo and Judge Chase .... 122 Vn. The Quakrel 153 VIII. Monroe and the Smiths .... 189 IX. "A Nuisance and a Curse" .... 217 X. Eccentricities 247 XI. Blifil and Black George .... 266 xn. "Faculties Misemployed" .... 290 Index 305 ILLUSTEATIONS John Randolph Frontispiece From the painting by Chester Harding in the Cor coran Gallery of Art, Washington, D. C. Autograph from a MS. in the Library of the Bos ton Athenaeum. The Tignetteof "Roanoke," Mr. Randolph's estate, is from a drawing after a cut in Howe's ," Virginia and its Antiquities." Page Samuel Chasb facing 82 From Sanderson's " Biography of the Signers to the Declaration of Independence," after a painting by Jarris. Autograph from the Declaration of Independence. John Taylor op Caroline facing 198 From a painting in the possession of the Virginia State Library, Richmond, Va. Autograph from a MS. in the archives of the State Department, at Washington. James Wilkinson facing 260 After a print presented to the Library of Harvard University by Lucian Carr, Esq., from a plate in the possession of Colonel John Mason Brown, of Louis ville, Ky., and now inserted in the Library's copy of Wilkinson's " Memoirs," Philadelphia, 1816, vol, i. Autograph from the Chamberlain collection, Boston Public Library. Facsimile of John Randolph's Handwriting facing 300 Letter written from London, April 22, 1831, to Jllartin Van Buren. Prom the original in the archives of the State Department at Washington. JOHN RANDOLPH CHAPTER I YOUTH "William Randolph, gentleman, of Tur key Island," born in 1650, was a native of Warwickshire in England, as his tombstone declares. Of his ancestry nothing is certainly known. The cause and the time of his coming to Virginia have been forgotten. The Henrico records show that in 16T8 he was clerk of Hen rico County, a man of substance, and married already to Mary Isham; that in 1685 he was " Captain William Randolph " and Justice of the Peace ; that in 1706 he conveyed to son Henry " land called by the name of Curies, with Longfield," being all that land at " Curies " lately belonging to Nathaniel Bacon, Jr. ; that in 1709 "Col. William Randolph of Turkey Island " made his will, which mentioned seven sons and two daughters; and finaUy that in 1711 he died. 2 JOHN RANDOLPH Turkey Island, just above the junction of the James and Appomattox rivers, lies in a re gion which has sharply attracted the attention of men. In 1675 Nathaniel Bacon lived near by at his plantation called Curies, and in that year Bacon's famous rebeUion gave bloody as sociations to the place. About one hundred years afterwards Benedict Arnold, then a gen eral in the British service, made a destructive raid up the James River which drew aU eyes to the spot. Neither of these disturbances, his torical as they are, made the region nearly so famous as it became on June 30, 1862, when fifty thousand northern troops, beaten, weary, and disorganized, converged at Malvern HiU and Turkey Island bridge, and the next day fought a battle which saved their army, and perhaps their cause, without a thought or a care for the dust of forgotten Randolphs on which two armies were trampling in the cradle of their race. WiUiam Randolph of Turkey Island was not the first Randolph who came to Virginia, or the only one who was there in 1678, but he was the most successful, when success was the proof of energy and thrift. He provided weU for his nine children, and henceforth their descendants swarmed like bees in the Virginian hive. The fifth son, Richard, who lived at Curies, Nathaniel YOUTH 3 Bacon's confiscated plantation, and who married Jane BoUing, a great-great-granddaughter of John Rolfe and Pocahontas, disposed by wUl, in 1742, of forty thousand acres of the choicest lands on the James, Appomattox, and Roanoke rivers, including Matoax, about two miles west of Petersburg, and Bizarre, a plantation some ninety miles further up the Appomattox River. John, the youngest son of this Richard of Curies, born in 1742, married in 1769 Frances Bland, daughter of a neighbor who lived at Cawsons, on a promontory near the mouth of the Appo mattox, looking north up the James River to Turkey Island. Here on June 2, 1773, their youngest child, John, was born. In these last days of colonial history, the Randolphs were numerous and powerful, a fam ily such as no one in Virginia would wish to offend; and if they were proud of their posi tion and importance, who could fairly blame them ? There was even a Randolph of Wilton, another of Chatsworth, as though they meant to rival Pembrokes and Devonshires. There was a knight in the family, old Sir John, sixth son of WiUiam of Turkey Island, and father of Peyton Randolph, who was afterwards presi dent of the American Congress. There was a historian, perhaps the best the State has yet produced, old WiUiam Stith. There were 4 JOHN RANDOLPH many members of the Council and the House of Burgesses, an innumerable list of blood re lations and a score of aUied families, among the rest that of Jefferson. FinaUy, the King's Attorney-General was at this time a Randolph, and took part with the crown against the col ony. The world upon which the latest Ran dolph baby opened his eyes was, so far as his horizon stretched, a world of cousins, a colonial aristocracy aU his own, supported by tobacco plantations and negro labor, by colonial pat ronage and royal favor, or, to do it justice, by audacity, vigor, and mind. This small cheerful world, which was in its way a remarkable phenomenon, and produced the greatest Ust of great names ever known this side of the ocean, was about to suffer a wreck the more fatal and hopeless because no skiU could avert it, and the dissolution was so quiet and subtle that no one could protect him self or secure his children. The boy was born at the moment when the first shock was at hand. His father died in 1775 ; his mother, in 1778, married Mr. St. George Tucker of Ber muda, and meanwhile the country had plunged into a war which in a single moment cut that connection with England on which the old Vir ginian society depended for its tastes, fashions, theories, and above aU for its aristocratic status YOUTH 5 in politics and law. The Declaration of In dependence proclaimed that America was no longer to be English, but American ; that is to say, democratic and popular in all its parts, — a fact equivalent to a sentence of death upon old Virginian society, and foreboding dissolu tion to the Randolphs with the rest, until they should learn to master the new conditions of American life. For passing through such a maelstrom a century was not too short an aUow- ance of time, yet this smaU Randolph boy, not a strong creature at best, was born just as the downward plunge began, and every moment made the outlook drearier and more awful. On January 3, 1781, he was at Matoax with his mother, who only five days before had been confined. Suddenly it was said that the British were coming. They soon appeared, under the command of Brigadier-General Benedict Arnold, and scared Virginia from Yorktown to the moun tains. They hunted the Governor like a tired fox, and ran him out of his famous mountain fastness at MonticeUo, breaking up his govern ment and mortifying him, until Mr. Jefferson at last refused to reassume the office, and passed his trust over to a stronger hand. St. George Tucker at Matoax thought it time to seek safer quarters, and hurried his wife, with her little baby, afterwards the weU-known Judge Henry 6 JOHN RANDOLPH St. George Tucker, away to Bizarre, ninety miles up the Appomattox. Here he left her and went to fight CornwaUis at Gmlford. Henceforward the Uttle Randolphs ran wild at Bizarre. Schools there were none, and stern discipUne was never a part of Vir ginian education. Mrs. Tucker, their mother, was an affectionate and exceUent woman ; Mr. Tucker a kind and admirable stepfather ; as for the boy John Randolph, it is said that he had a warm and amiable disposition, although the only well-authenticated fact recorded about his infancy is that before his fifth year he was known to swoon in a mere fit of temper, and could with difficulty be restored. The life of boyhood in Virginia was not well fitted for teaching self-control or mental discipline, quali ties which John Randolph never gained; but in return for these the Virginian found other ad vantages which made up for the loss of method ical training. Many a Virginian lad, especiaUy on such a remote plantation as Bizarre, Uved in a boy's paradise of indulgence, fished and shot, rode like a young monkey, and had his memory crammed with the genealogy of every weU-bred horse in the State, grew up among dogs and negroes, master equaUy of both, and knew aU about the prices of wheat, tobacco, and slaves. He might pick up much that was high and YOUTH 7 noble from his elders and betters, or much that was bad and brutal from his inferiors ; might, as he grew older, back his favorite bird at a cocking-main, or haunt stables and race-courses, or look on, with as much interest as an English nobleman felt at a prize-ring, when, after the race was over, there occurred an old-fashioned rough-and-tumble fight, where the champions fixed their thumbs in each other's eye-sockets and bit off each other's noses and ears; he might, even more easily than in England, get habits of drinking as freely as he talked, and of talking as freely as the utmost license of the English language would allow. The cUmate was genial, the soil generous, the life easy, the temptations strong. Everything encouraged individuality, and if by accident any mind had a natural bent towards what was coarse or brutal, there was Httle to prevent it from fol lowing its instinct. There was, however, another side to Virginian life, which helped to civilize young savages, — the domestic and family relation ; the influence of father and mother, of women, of such read ing as the country-house offered, of music, dancing, and the table. John Randolph was born and bred among gentlefolk. Mr. Tucker had refinement, and his wife, along with many other exceUent quaUties, had two very feminine 8 JOHN RANDOLPH instincts, — family pride and religion. To in oculate the imagination of her son with notions of family pride was an easy task, and to show him how to support the dignity of his name was a natural one. " Never part with your land," was her solemn injunction, which he did not forget ; " keep your land, and your land will keep you." This was the English theory, and Randolph acted on it through life, although it was becoming more and more evident, with every passing year, that the best thing to be done with Virginian land, at the ruling prices, was to part with it. His passion for land became at last sheer avarice, a quaUty so rare in Virginia as to be a virtue, and he went on accumulating plantation after plantation with out paying his debts, while the land, worth very little at best, was steadily becoming as worth less as the leaves which every autumn shook from its forests. Not an acre of the forty thousand which his grandfather bequeathed now belongs to a Randolph, but the Randolphs or any one else might have bought back the whole of it for a song at any time within half a century. Thus the boy took life awry from the start ; he sucked poison with his mother's milk. Not so easy a task, however, was it for her to teach him her other strong instinct ; for, although he YOUTH 9 seems reaUy to have loved his mother as much as he loved any one, he was perverse in child hood as in manhood, and that his mother should try to make him religious seems to have been reason enough for his becoming a vehement deist. At what age he took this bent is no where said; perhaps a little later, when he went for a few months to school at WiUiams- burg, the focus of Virginian deism. At Bizarre he seems rather to have turned towards story books, and works that appealed to his imaginar tion ; the kind of reading he would be apt to find in the cupboards of Virginian houses, and such as a boy with fits of moodiness and a lively imagination would be likely to select. Thus he is said to have read, before his eleventh year, the Arabian Nights, Shakespeare, Homer, Don Quixote, Gil Bias, Plutarch's Lives, Robinson Crusoe, GuUiver, Tom Jones. The chances are a thousand to one that to this list may be added Peregrine Pickle, the Newgate Calendar, Moll Flanders, and Roderick Random. Whether Paradise Lost or Sir Charles Grandison and Pamela were soon added to the number, we are not told ; but it is quite safe to say that, among these old, fascinating volumes, then found in every Virginian country-place, as in every English one, Randolph never learned to love two books which made the Ubrary of every 10 JOHN RANDOLPH New England farmhouse, where the freer literar ture would have been thought sinful and hea thenish. If he ever read, he must have disUked the Pilgrim's Progress or the Saint's Rest ; he would have recoiled from every form of Puri tanism and detested every affectation of sanc tity. The kind of literary diet on which the boy thus fed was not the healthiest or best for a nature like his ; but it made the literary educa tion of many a man who passed through life looked on by his feUows as well read with no wider range than this ; and as Randolph had a quick memory he used to the utmost what he had thus gained. His cleverest iUustrations were taken from Shakespeare and Fielding. In other literature he was weU versed, according to the standards of the day : he read his Gibbon, Hume, and Burke ; knew English history, and was at home in the English peerage ; but it was to Shakespeare and Fielding that his imagination naturaUy turned, and in this, as in other things, he was a true Virginian, a son of the soil and the time. As he grew a few years older, and looked about him on the world in which he was to play a part, he saw little but a repetition of his own surroundings. When the Revolutionary War closed, in 1783, he was ten years old, and YOUTH 11 during the next five years he tried to pick up an education. America was then a smaU, strag gling, exhausted country, without a government, a nationality, a capital, or even a town of thirty thousand inhabitants ; a country which had not the means of supplying such an education as the young man wanted, however earnestly he tried for it. His advantages were whoUy social, and it is not to be denied that they were great. He had an immense family connection, which gave him confidence and a sense of power ; from his birth surrounded by a society in itself an educa^- tion, he was accustomed to the best that Virginia had, and Virginia had much that was best on the continent. He saw about him that Virginian gentry which was the child of English squirarchy, and reproduced the high breeding of Bolingbroke and Sir Charles Grandison side by side with the coarseness of Swift and Squire Western. The contrasts were curious, in this provincial aristo cracy, between old-fashioned courtesy and cul ture and the roughness of plantation habits. Extreme eccentricity might end in producing a man of a new type, as brutal at heart as the roughest cub that ran loose among the negro cabins of a tobacco plantation, violent, tyranni cal, vicious, cruel, and licentious in language as in morals, while at the same time trained to habits of good society, and sincerely feeling that 12 JOHN RANDOLPH exaggerated deference which it was usual to affect towards ladies; he might be weU read, fond of inteUigent conversation, consumed by ambition, or devoured by self-esteem, with man ners grave, deferential, mild, and charming when at their best, and intolerable when the spirit of arrogance seized him. Nowhere could be found a school of more genial and simpler courtesy than that which produced the great men and women of Virginia, but it had its dangers and affectations ; it was often provincial and some times coarse. John Randolph, the embodiment of these con trasts and peculiarities, was an eccentric type recognized and understood by Virginians. To a New England man, on the contrary, the type was unintelligible and monstrous. The New Englander had his own code of bad manners, and was less tolerant than the Virginian of whatever varied from it. As the character of Don Quixote was to Cervantes clearly a natural and possible product of Spanish character, so to the people of Virginia John Randolph was a representative man, with quaUties exaggerated but genuine; and even these exaggerations struck a chord of popular sympathy; his very weaknesses were caricatures of Virginian faU- ings ; his genius was in some degree a caricature of Virginian genius ; and thus the boy grew up YOUTH 13 to manhood, as pure a Virginian Quixote as ever an American Cervantes could have con ceived. In the summer of 1781 he had a few months' schooUng, and afterwards was again at school, about one year, at WiUiamsburg, tiU the spring of 1784, when his parents took him on a visit to Bermuda, the home of his stepfather's famUy. In the autumn of 1787 he was sent to Prince ton, where he passed a few months; the next year, being now fiif teen, he went for a short time to Columbia CoUege, in New York. This was aU the schooling he ever had, and, excepting perhaps a Uttle Latin, it is not easy to say what he learned. " I am an ignorant man, sir," was his own statement. So he was, and so, for that matter, are the most learned: but Randolph's true ignorance was not want of book-learning ; he had quite as much knowledge of that kind as he could profitably use in America, and his mind was naturaUy an active one, could he only have put it in sympathy with the movement of his country. At this time of Ufe, when the ebuUition of youth was stiU violent, he was curiously torn by the struggle between conserva tive and radical instincts. He read Voltaire, Rousseau, Hume, Gibbon, and was as deistlcal in his opinions as any of them. The Christian reUgion was hateful to him, as it was to Tom 14 JOHN RANDOLPH Paine ; he loved everything hostUe to it. "Very early in life," he wrote thirty years afterwards, " I imbibed an absurd prejudice in favor of Ma- hometanism and its votaries. The crescent had a talismanic effect on my imagination, and I rejoiced in aU its triumphs over the cross (which I despised), as I mourned over its defeats ; and Mahomet H. himself did not more exult than I did when the crescent was planted on the dome of St. Sophia, and the cathedral of the Constan- tines was converted into a Turkish mosque." This was radical enough to suit Paine or Saint Just, but it was the mere inteUectual fashion of the day, as over-vehement and unhealthy as its counterpart, the religious spasms of his later life. His mind was always controUed by his feeUngs ; its antipathies were stronger than its sympathy ; it was restless and uneasy, prone to contradiction and attached to paradox. In such a character there is nothing very new, for at least nine men out of ten, whose intelUgence is above the average, have felt the same instincts : the impulse to contradict is as familiar as dyspepsia or nervous excitability; the passion for referring every comparison to one's self is a primitive quality of mind by no means confined to women and children; but what was to be expected when such a temperament, exaggerated and unrestrained, full of self-contradictions and YOUTH 15 stimulated by acute reasoning powers, remark able audacity and quickness, violent and vindic tive temper, and a morbid constitution, was planted in a Virginian, a slave-owner, a Ran dolph, just when the world was bursting into fire and flame ? Of course, whUe at coUege, the young Ran dolph had that necessary part of a Southern gentleman's education in those days, a duel, but there is no reason to suppose that he was given to brawls, and in early Ufe his temper was rather affectionate than harsh. His friendships were strong, and seem to have been permanent. He was inteUigent and proud, and may have treated with contempt whatever he thought mean or contemptible. He certainly did quar rel with a Virginian feUow-student, and then shot him, but no one can now say what excuse or justification he may have had. His oppo nent's temper in after life was quite as violent as his own, and the quarrel itself rose from a dispute over the mere pronunciation of a word. In the year 1788 be was at coUege in New York with his elder brother Richard, and we get a gUmpse of him in a letter to his step father, dated on Christmas Day, 1788 : — " Be well assured, my dear sir, our expenses since our arrival here have been enormous, and by far greater than our estate, especially loaded as it is with 16 JOHN RANDOLPH debt, can bear ; however, I flatter myself, my dear papa, that upon lookiag over the accounts you will find that my share is by comparison trifling, and hope that by the wise admonitions ^of so affectionate a parent, and one who has our welfare and interest so much at heart, we may be able to shun the rock of prodigality upon which so many people continually split, and by which the unhappy victim is reduced not only to poverty, but also to despair and all the horrors at tending it." This was unusual language for a Virginian boy of fifteen! It would have been safe to prophesy that the rock of prodigaUty was not one of his dangers. Down to the last day of his life he talked in the same strain, always complaining of this old EngUsh indebtedness, living with careful economy, but never wilUng to pay his debt, and never able to resist the temptation of buying land and slaves. The letter goes on : — " Brother Richard writes you that I am lazy. I assure you, dear papa, he has been egregiously mis taken. 1 attend every lecture that the class does. Not one of the professors has ever found me duU with my business, or even said that I was irregular. ... If brother Richard had written you that I did nothing all the vacation, he would have been much in the dark; neither was it possible for me. We lived in this large building without a soul in it but YOUTH 17 ourselves, and it was so desolate and dreary that I could not bear to be in it. I was always afraid that some robber, of which we have a plenty, was coming to kill me, after they made a draught on the house." Nervous, excitable, loving warmly, hating more warmly stUl, easily affected by fears, whether of murderers or of poverty, lazy ac cording to his brother Richard, neither duU nor irregular, but timid, according to his own account, this letter represents him as he showed himself to his parents, in rather an amiable light. It closes with a suggestion of politics: " Be so good, my dear sir, when it is conven ient, to send me the debate of the convention in our State." He was too true a Virginian not to oppose the new Constitution of the United States which Patrick Henry and George Mason had so vehemently resisted; but that Consti tution was now adopted, and was about to be set in motion. From this moment a new school was provided for the boy, far more interesting to him than the lecture-rooms of Columbia Col lege, — a school which he attended with extraor dinary amusement and even fascination. " I was at Federal HaU," said he once in a speech to his constituents ; " I saw Washing ton, but could not hear him take the oath to support the federal Constitution. The Consti tution was in its chrysaUs state. I saw what 18 JOHN RANDOLPH Washington did not see, but two other men in Virginia saw it, — George Mason and Patrick Henry, — the secret sting which lurked beneath the gaudy pinions of the butterfly." Wiser men than he, not only in Virginia but else where, saw and dreaded the centralizing, over whelming powers of the new government, and are not to be blamed for their fears. Without boldly assuming that America was a country to which old rules did not apply, that she stood by herself, above law, it was impossible to look without alarm at the tendency of the Constitu tion ; for history, from beginning to end, was one long warning against the abuse of just such powers. Were Randolph alive to-day, he would probably feel that his worst fears were realized. From his point of view as a Virginian, a slave owner, a Randolph, it was true that, although the Constitution was not a butterfly and did not carry poison under its wings, — for only at Roanoke could a butterfly be found with a secret sting in such a part of its person, — it did carry a fearful power for good or evil in the tremendous sweep of its pinions and the terrible grip of its claws. Another little incident sharpened Randolph's perception of the poison which lay in the new system. " I was in New York," said he nearly forty years afterwards, " when John Adams TOUTH 19 took his seat as Vice-President. I recoUect — 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 coach man of the then Vice-President for coming too near the arms emblazoned on the scutcheon of the vice-regal carriage. Perhaps I may have some of this old animosity rankUng in my heart, . . . coming from a race who are known never to forsake a friend or forgive a foe." The world would be an uncomfortable residence for elderly people if they were to be objects of lifelong personal hatred to every boy over whose head their coachman, without their know ledge, had once snapped a whip, and especially so if, as in this case, the feud were carried down to the next generation. Of course the sting did not lie in the coachman's whip. Had the carriage been that of a Governor of Vir ginia or a Lord ChanceUor of England or had the coachman of his own old-fashioned four- horse Virginian chariot been to blame, John Randolph would never have given the matter another thought; but that his brother, a Vir ginian gentleman of ancient famUy and large estates, should be struck by the servant of a Yankee schoolmaster, who had neither family, wealth, nor land, but was a mere shoot of a 20 JOHN RANDOLPH psalm-singing democracy, and that this man should lord it over Virginia and Virginians, was maddening ; and the sight of that Massa chusetts whip was portentous, terrible, inex pressible to the boy, Uke the mysterious solitude of his great schoolhouse, which drove him out into the street in fear of robbery and murder. The Attorney-General of the new govern ment was a Randolph, — Edmund, son of John, and grandson of Sir John, who was brother to Richard of Curies, — and when, in 1790, the seat of administration was transferred to Phil adelphia, John Randolph left Columbia CoUege and went to Philadelphia to study law in the Attorney-General's train. Here, excepting for occasional visits to Virginia, and for interruption by yeUow fever, he remained until 1794, occu pying himself very much as he liked, so far as is now to be learned. He was not pleased with Mr. Edmund Randolph's theories in the matter of teaching law. He studied system- aticaUy no profession, neither law nor medi cine, although he associated with students of both, and even attended lectures. He seems to have enjoyed the life, as was natural, for Philadelphia was an agreeable city. " I know," said he many years afterwards, " by fatal expe rience, the fascinations of a town life, — how they estrange the mind from its old habits and YOUTH 21 attachments." This "fatal experience" was probably a mere figure of speech ; so far as can be seen, his residence in New York and Phila delphia was the most useful part of his youth, and went far to broaden his mind. A few of his letters at this period are extant, but they teU little except that he was Uving with the utmost economy and was deeply interested in politics, taking, of course, a strongly anti-feder- aUst side. In April, 1794, he returned to Virginia, to assume control of his property. In after years he complained bitterly of having "been plun dered and oppressed during my nonage, and left to enter upon life overwhelmed with a load of debt which the profits of a nineteen years' mi nority ought to have more than paid ; and, ignorant as I was, and even yet am, of busi ness, to grope my way without a clue through the labyrinth of my father's affairs, and, brought up among Quakers, an ardent ami des noirs, to scuffle with negroes and overseers for something like a pittance of rent and profit upon my land and stock." He lived with his elder brother Richard, who was now married, at Bizarre, near Farmville, a place better known to this genera tion as the town from which General Grant dated his famous letter caUing upon General Lee for a surrender of the Confederate Army 22 JOHN RANDOLPH of Northern Virginia. From here he could direct the management of his own property at Roanoke, some mUes to the southward, whUe he enjoyed the society at Bizarre and economized his expenses. Nothing further is recorded of his life until in the spring of 1796 he visited his friend Bryan in Georgia, and during a stay in Charles ton came under the notice of a bookseller, who has recorded the impression he made : " A tall, gawky-looking, flaxen-haired stripling, ap parently of the age from sixteen to eighteen, with a complexion of a good parchment color, beardless chin, and as much assumed self-con fidence as any two-footed animal I ever saw," in company with a gray-headed, florid-complexioned old gentleman, whom he slapped on the back and caUed Jack, — a certain Sir John Nesbit, a Scotch baronet, with whom he had become inti mate, and whom he beat in a horse-race, each riding his own horse. The bookseUer at once set him down as the most impudent youth he had ever seen, but was struck by the sudden animation which at moments lighted up his usually duU and heavy face. After his stay at Charleston, he went on to his friend Bryan's in Georgia, where he proved his convivial powers, as in South Carolina he had proved his superiority in horse-racing. YOUTH 23 " My eldest brother," wrote Bryan afterwards, " stUl bears a friendly remembrance of the rwm ducking you gave him." This visit to Georgia was destined to have great influence on his later career. He found the State convulsed with excitement over what was long famous as the Yazoo fraud. The legislature of Georgia, in the preceding year, had authorized the sale of four immense tracts of land, supposed to embrace twenty miUions of acres, for five hun dred thousand doUars, to four land companies. It was proved that, with one exception, every member of the legislature who voted for this bUl was interested in the purchase. A more flagrant case of wholesale legislative corruption had never been known, and when the facts were exposed the whole State rose in indignation against it, elected a new legislature, annuUed the sale, expunged the act from the record, and finaUy, by caUing a convention, made the expunging act itself a part of the state con stitution. With his natural vehemence of tem per, Randolph caught aU the excitement of his friends, and became a vehement anti- Yazoo man, as it was caUed, for the rest of his life. The visit to Georgia accomplished, he turned homewards again, and was suddenly met by the crushing news that his brother Richard was dead. In every way this blow was a terrible 24 JOHN RANDOLPH one. His brother had been his oldest and closest companion. The widow and two chil dren, one of whom was deaf and dumb from birth, and ultimately became insane, besides the whole burden of the joint estabUshment, now came under John Randolph's charge. " Then," to use his own words, " I had to un ravel the tangled skein of my poor brother's difficulties and debts. His sudden and un timely death threw upon my care, helpless as I was, his fanuly, whom I tenderly and passion ately loved." Richard's last years had been embittered by a strange and terrible scandal, resulting in a family feud, which John, with his usual vehemence, made his own. These complications would have been trying to any man, but to one of his peculiar temper they were a source of infinite depression and despair. CHAPTER II VIEGINIAN POLITICS Politics meanwhile were becoming more and more violent. The negotiation of Jay's treaty with England, which took place in 1794, foUowed by its publication in June, 1795, and the extraordinary behavior of France, threw the country into a state of alarming excitement. Randolph shared in the indignation of those who thought the treaty a disgraceful one, and there is a story, told on the authority of his friends, that at a dinner, pending the ratifica tion, he gave as a toast, " George Washington, — may he be damned ! " and when the company declined to drink it, he added, "if he signs Jay's treaty." No one can fairly blame the opposition to that treaty, which indeed chal lenged opposition; and that Randolph should have opposed it hotly, if he opposed it at aU, was only a part of his nature ; but none the less was it true that between his Anglican tastes and his Gallican poUcy he was in a false posi tion, as he was also between his aristocratic prejudices and his democratic theories, his de- 26 JOHN RANDOLPH istical doctrines and his conservative tempera ment, his interests as a slave-owner and his theories as an ami des noirs, and finaUy in the entire delusion which possessed his mind that a Virginian aristocracy could maintain itself in aUiance with a democratic polity. Perhaps these flagrant inconsistencies might have worked out ten years sooner to their nat ural result, had not John Adams and New England now stood at the head of the govern ment. If Randolph could wish no better fate for his own countryman, Washington, than that he might be damned, one may easily imagine what were his feelings towards Washington's successor, whose coachman had cracked his whip over Richard Randolph. For thirty years he never missed a chance to have his fling at both the Adamses, father and son; "the cub," he said, " is a greater bear than the old one ; " and although he spared no prominent Virginian, neither Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Mon roe, nor Clay, yet the only persons against whom his strain of invective was at aU seasons copious, continuous, and vehement were the two New England Presidents. To do him justice, there was every reason, in his category of innate prejudices, for the antipathy he felt ; and espe cially in regard to the administration- of the elder Adams there was ample ground for honest VIRGINIAN POLITICS 27 divergence of opinion. For one moment in the career of that administration the country was in real danger, and opposition became almost a duty. When hostilities with France broke out, and under their cover the Alien and Sedi tion laws were passed, backed by a large army, with the scarcely concealed object of overawing threatened resistance from Virginia, it was time that opposition should be put in power, even though the opposition had itself undertaken to nuUify acts of Congress and to prepare in secret an armed rebeUion against the national govern ment. FeeUng ran high in Virginia during the year 1798. Mr. Madison had left Congress, but both he and Mr. Jefferson, the Vice-President, were busy in organizing their party for what was too much like a dissolution of the Union. They induced the legislatures of Virginia and Ken tucky to assert the right of resistance to na tional laws, and were privy to the preparations making in Virginia for armed resistance ; or if they were not, it was because they chose to be ignorant. Monroe was certainly privy to these warlike preparations; for, in the year 1814, Randolph attacked in debate the conscription project recommended by Monroe, then Secretary of War, and said, "Ask him what he would have done, whUst Governor of Virginia, and 28 JOHN RANDOLPH preparing to resist federal usurpation, had such an attempt been made by Mr. Adams and his ministers, especiaUy in 1800 ! He can give the answer." At a stiU later day, in January, 1817, Randolph explained the meaning of his innuendo. " There is no longer," said he, " any cause for concealing the fact that the grand armory at Richmond was built to enable the State of Virginia to resist by force the encroach ments of the then administration upon her in disputable rights." Naturally Randolph himself was in thorough sympathy with such schemes, and it would be surprising if he and the hot headed young men of his stamp did not drag their older chiefs into measures which these would have gladly avoided. Seizing this moment to enter political life, with characteristic audacity he struck at once for the highest office within his reach ; at the age of twenty-six, he announced himself a candi date for Congress. Both parties were keenly excited over the contest in Virginia, and the federalists, with Washington at their head, were greatly distressed and alarmed, for they knew what was going on, and after opposing to the utmost Mr. Madison's nullification resolutions, straining every nerve to allay the excitement, as a last resource they implored their old opponent, Patrick Henry, to come to their rescue. Unwil- VIRGINLAN POLITICS 29 lingly enough, for his strength was rapidly failing, Henry consented. Nothing in his Ufe was nobler. The greatest orator and truest patriot in Virginia, a sound and consistent demo crat, sprung from the people and adored by them, this persistent and energetic opponent of the Constitution, who had denounced its over- swoUen powers and its "awful squint towards monarchy," now came forward, not for office, nor to qualify or withdraw anything he had ever said, but with his last breath to warn the people of Virginia not to raise their hand against the national government. Washington himself, he said, would lead an army to put them down. " Where is the citizen of America who wiU dare lift his hand against the father of his country ? No ! you dare not do it ! In such a parricidal attempt, the steel would drop from your nerve less arm ! " In the Ught of subsequent history there is a solemn and pathetic grandeur in this dying appeal of the old revolutionary orator, by the tavern porch of Charlotte, at the March court, in 1799, — a grandeur partly due to its sim plicity, but more to its association with the great revolutionary struggle which had gone before, and with the awful judgment which feU upon this doomed region sixty-five years after wards. There was, too, an element of contrast 30 JOHN RANDOLPH in the composition ; for when the old man f eU back, exhausted, and the great audience stood sUent with the conviction that they had heard an immortal orator, who would never speak again, make an appeal such as defied reply, then it was that John Randolph's taU, lean, youthful figure cUmbed upon the platform and stood up before the crowd. What he said is not recorded, and would in no case be very material. He himself, in 1817, avowed in Congress the main burden of his ad dress: "I was asked if I justified the establish ment of the armory for the purpose of opposing Mr. Adams's administration. I said I did ; that I could not conceive any case in which the people could not be intrusted with arms ; and that the use of them to oppose oppressive measures was in principle the same, whether those of the administration of Lord North or that of Mr. Adams." At this period Randolph did not talk in the crisp, nervous, pointed language of his after Ufe, but used the heroic style which is stUl to be seen in the writings of his friend, "the greatest man I ever knew, John Thompson, the immortal author of the letters of Curtius." The speech could have been only a solemn de fense of states' rights ; an appeal to state pride and fear; an ad hominem attack on Patrick Henry's consistency, and more or less effective VIRGINIAN POLITICS 31 denunciation of federaUsts in general. What he could not answer, and what must become the more impressive through his own success, was the splendor of a sentiment ; history, past and coming ; the awe that surrounds a dying prophet threatening a new doom deserved. Vague tradition reports that Randolph spoke for three hours and held his audience ; he rarely failed with a Virginian assembly, and in this case his whole career depended on success. Tradition further says that Patrick Henry re marked to a by-stander, " I have n't seen the little dog before, since he was at school ; he was a great atheist then;" and after the speech, shak ing hands with his opponent, he added, " Young man, you caU me father ; then, my son, I have something to say unto thee : Kee'p justice, keep truth, — and you wiU live to think diEferently." Randolph never did live to think differently, but ended as he began, trying to set bounds against the power of the national government, and to protect those boimds, if need be, by force. Whether his opinions were wrong or right, criminal or virtuous, is another matter, which has an interest far deeper than his personaUty, and more lasting than his fame; but at least those opinions were at that time expressed with the utmost clearness and emphasis, not by him but by the legislatures of more than one State ; 32 JOHN RANDOLPH and as he was not their author, so he is not to be judged harshly for accepting or adhering to them. Doubtless, as time passed and circum stances changed, Randolph figured as a political Quixote in his championship of states' rights, which became at the end his hobby, his mania ; he played tricks with it untU his best friends were weary and disgusted; but, so far as his wayward life had a meaning or a moral purpose, it lay in his strenuous effort to bar the path of that spirit of despotism which in every other age and land had perverted government into a curse and a scourge. The doctrine of states' rights was but a fragment of repubUcan dogma in 1800, and circumstances alone caused it to be remembered when men forgot the system of opinions of which it made a part; isolated, degraded, defiled by an unnatural union with the slave power, the doctrine became at last a mere phrase, which had stiU a meaning only to those who knew what Mr. Jefferson and the republicans of America had once beUeved ; but to Randolph it was always an inspired truth which purified and elevated his whole existence ; the faith of his youth, it seemed to him to sanctify his age ; the helmet of this Virginian Quixote, — a helmet of Mambrino, if one pleases, — it was in Quixote's eyes a helmet aU the same. What warranted such enthusiasm in VIRGINIAN POLITICS 33 this threadbare formula of words ? Why should thousands on thousands of simple-minded, hon est, plain men have been wilUng to die for a phrase? The repubUcan party, which assumed control of the government in 1801, had taken great pains to express its ideas so clearly that no man could misconceive them. At the bottom of its theories lay, as a foundation, the histor ical fact that poUtical power had, in aU experi ence, tended to grow at the expense of human liberty. Every government tended towards despotism; contained somewhere a supreme, irresponsible, self-defined power caUed sover eignty, which held human rights, if human rights there were, at its mercy. Americans believed that the Uberties of this continent depended on fixing a barrier against this supreme central power called national sover eignty, which, if left to grow unresisted, would repeat here all the miserable experiences of Europe, and, faUing into the grasp of some group of men, would be the centre of a mUi tary tyranny ; that, to resist the growth of this power, it was necessary to withhold authority from the government, and to administer it with the utmost economy, because extravagance gen erates corruption, and corruption generates despotism; that the Executive must be held 34 JOHN RANDOLPH in check; the popular branch of the legisla^ ture strengthened, the Judiciary curbed, and the general powers of government strictly con strued ; but, above aU, the States must be sup ported in exercising aU their reserved rights, because, in the last resort, the States alone could make head against a central sovereign at Wash ington. These principles implied a poUcy of peace abroad and of loose ties at home, leaned rather towards a confederation than towards a consolidated union, and placed the good of the human race before the glory of a mere nationality. In the famous Virginia and Kentucky resolu tions of 1798, Mr. Madison and Mr. Jefferson set forth these ideas with a care and an author ity which gave the two papers a character hardly less decisive than that of the Constitu tion itself. The hand which drafted the Decla ration of Independence drafted the Kentucky Resolutions ; the hand which had most share in framing the Constitution of the United States framed that gloss upon it which is known as the Virginia Resolutions of 1798. Kentucky declared her determination "tamely to submit to undelegated, and consequently unlimited, powers in no man or body of men on earth," and it warned the government at Washington that acts of undelegated power, " unless arrested VIRGINIAN POLITICS 35 on the threshold, may tend to drive these States into revolution and blood ; " that submission to such acts " would be to surrender the form of government we have chosen, and to Uve under one deriving its powers from its own will, and not from our authority ; and that the co-States, recurring to their natural right in cases not made federal, wUl concur in declaring these acts void and of no force." WhUe Kentucky used this energetic language, dictated by Mr. Jeffer son, Virginia echoed her words with the em phasis of a mathematical demonstration, and laid down as a general principle of the consti tutional compact that, " in case of a deliberate, palpable, and dangerous exercise of other pow ers not granted by the said compact, the States, who are the parties thereto, have the right, and are in duty bound, to interpose for arresting the progress of the evil, and for maintaining, within their respective Umits, the authorities, rights, and liberties appertaining to them." Whether this was good constitutional law need not be discussed at present ; at aU events, it was the doctrine of the repubUcan party in 1800, the essence of republican principles, and for many years the undisputed faith of a vast majority of the American people. The principle that the central government was a machine, established by the people of the States for cer- 36 JOHN RANDOLPH tain purposes and no others, was itself equivalent to a declaration that this machine could lawfully do nothing but what it was expressly empowered to do by the people of the States; and who except the people of the States could properly decide when the machine overstepped its bounds ? To make the Judiciary a final arbiter was to make the machine master, for the Judiciary was not only a part of the machine, but its most irresponsible and dangerous part. The class of lawyers, trained, as they were, in the common law of England, could conceive of no political system without a core of self-defined sovereignty in the government, and the Judiciary merely reflected the training of the bar. Judiciary, Congress, and Executive, all parts of one mech anism, could be restrained only by the constant control of the people of the States. There can be Uttle doubt that this was the opinion of Patrick Henry in 1800, as it was of Randolph, Madison, and Jefferson ; on no other theory, as they believed, could there be a guaranty for their liberties, and certain it is that the opposite doctrine, which made the central machine the measure of its own powers, offered no guaranty to the citizen against any stretch of authority by Congress, President, or Judiciary, but in prin ciple was merely the old despotic sovereignty of Europe, more or less disguised. VIRGINIAN POLITICS 37 Not, therefore, in principle did Randolph dif fer from Patrick Henry ; it was in applying the principle that their ideas clashed so rudely ; and this appUcation always embarrassed the subject of states' rights. That the central government was a mere creature of the people of the States, and that the people of those States could un make as they had made it, was a fact unques tionable and unquestioned ; but it was one thing to claim that the people of Virginia had a con stitutional right to interpose a protest against usurpations of power at Washington, and it was another thing to claim that they should support their protest by force. Patrick Henry and Mr. Madison shrank from this last appeal to arms, which John Randolph boldly accepted ; and, in his defense, it is but fair to say that a right which has nowhere any ultimate sanction of force is, in law, no right at aU. With the correctness of the constitutional theories which have perturbed the philosophy of American poUtics it is needless to deal, for it is not their correctness which is now in question so much as the motives and acts of those who believed in them. There is no reason to doubt that Randolph honestly believed in aU the theo ries of his party ; was deeply persuaded of the corruption and wickedness inherent in every government which defines its own powers ; and 38 JOHN RANDOLPH wished to make himself an embodiment of purity in politics, apart from every influence of power or person. For a generation Uke our own, in whose ears the term of states' rights has become hateful, owing to its perversion in the interests of negro slavery, and in whose eyes the comfort able doctrines of unlimited national sovereignty shine with the glory of a moral principle sancti fied by the blood of innumerable martyrs, these narrow and jealous prejudices of Randolph and his friends sound Uke systematized treason ; but they were the honest convictions of that gener ation which framed and adopted the Constitu tion, and the debates of the state conventions in 1788, of Massachusetts as weU as of New York and Virginia, show that a great majority of the American people shared the same fears of despotic government. Time wiU show whether those fears were well founded, but whether they prove real or visionary, they were the essence of republican politics ; and Randolph, whatever his faults may have been, and however absurdly in practice his system might work, has a right to such credit as honest convictions and love of liberty may deserve. On these ideas, advocated in their most ex treme form, he contested the field with Patrick Henry, and carried with him the popular sym pathies. A few weeks later, Patrick Henry was VIRGINIAN POLITICS 39 dead, and young "Jack Randle," as he was caUed in Virginia, had secured a seat in Con gress. It would be folly to question the abilities of a man who, at twenty-six, could hold his own against such a champion, and win spurs so gilded. The proof of his genius Ues in his au dacity, in the boldness with which he commanded success and controUed it. More than any other southern man he felt the intense self-confidence of the Virginian, as contrasted with his northern rivals, a moral superiority which became dis astrous in the end from its very strength ; for the resistless force of northern democracy lay not in its leaders or its poUtical organization, but in its social and industrial momentum, and this was a force against which mere individuaUty strove in vain. Randolph knew Virginia, and knew how far he could domineer over her by exaggerating her own virtues and vices ; but he did not so weU understand that the world could not be captured off-hand, like a seat in Congress. His intelUgence told him the fact, but his un governable temper seldom let him practice on it. MeanwhUe the crisis, which for a time had threatened a catastrophe, was passing away; thanks, not to the forbearance of Randolph or his friends, but to the personal interference of that old bear whom Randolph so cordiaUy hated. 40 JOHN RANDOLPH the President of the United States. Fate, how ever, seemed bent upon making mischief between these two men. In December, 1799, Randolph took his seat, cordially welcomed by his party in the House, and within a very short time showed his intention to chaUenge a certain lead ership in debate. He was in the minority, but a minority led by Albert GaUatin was not to be despised, when it contained men like John Nicholas of Virginia, Samuel Smith of Mary land, Edward Livingston of New York, Nathan iel Macon of North Carolina, and Joseph Nicholson of Maryland. Randolph was ad mitted, as of right, into this Uttle circle of leaders, and plunged instantly into debate. He had already addressed the House twice, — the first time on the census biU; the second on a petition from free negroes in favor of emanci pation, an act of Ucense which led him to hope "that the conduct of the House would be so decided as to deter the petitioners, or any per sons acting far them, from ever presenting one of a simUar nature hereafter ; " and on Janu ary 9, 1800, he rose again, and spoke at some length on a motion to reduce the army. The speech, to say the least of it, was not happy : its denunciation of standing armies was not clever enough to enliven the staleness of the idea, and its praise of the militia system lay open to the VIRGINIAN POLITICS 41 same objection; but its temper was fatal, had the speech been equal to Pitt's best. Speaking invariably of the army as "mercenaries" and "hirelings," "loungers who Uve upon the pub lic," "who consume the fruits of their honest industry under the pretext of protecting them from a foreign yoke," he at last added, "The people put no confidence in the protection of a handful of ragamuffins." This troubled even his friends, and the next day he rose again to " exchange," as he expressed it, the term raga muffin. The same evening he was at the theatre with his friends Macon, Nicholson, Christie of Maryland, and others, when two young marine officers came into the box behind them, and made remarks, not to Randolph, but at him: " Those ragamuffins on the stage are black Vir ginia ragamuffins ; " " They march weU for raga muffins ; " " Our mercenaries would do better ; " until at length one of them crowded into the seat by Randolph, and finally, at the end of the performance, as he was leaving, his coUar was violently jerked from behind, and there was some jostling on the stairs. The next morning Randolph wrote a letter to the President, begin ning, — " Sir, — Known to you only as holding, in common with yourself, the honorable station of servant to the same sovereign people, and disclaiming all preten- 42 JOHN RANDOLPH sions to make to you any application which in the general estimation of men requires the preface of apology, I shall, without the circumlocution of com pliment, proceed to state the cause which induces this address." Then, after saying in the same astonishing dic tion that he had been insulted by two young marine officers, one of whom was named Mc- Knight, he concluded, — " It is enough for me to state that the independ ence of the Legislature has been attacked, the ma jesty of the people, of which you are the principal representative, insulted, and your authority con temned. 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." To this wonderful piece of bombast the Presi dent made no reply, but inclosed it in a very brief message to the House of Representatives as relating to a matter of privilege " which, in my opinion, ought to be inquired into in the House itself, if anywhere." "I have thought proper to submit the whole letter and its ten dencies to your consideration, without any other comments on its matter or style." The message concluded by announcing that an investigation had been ordered. This reference to the House was very dis- VIRGINIAN POLITICS 43 tasteful to Randolph, and when a committee of investigation was appointed he hesitated to appear before it. He was stiU more annoyed when the committee made its report, which con tained a sharp censure on himself for " deviat ing from the forms of decorum customary in official communications to the chief magistrate," and for demanding redress from the Executive in a matter which respected the privileges of the House, thereby derogating from the rights of that body. In vain Randolph protested that he had not written " Legislature," but " Legis lator;" in vain he disavowed the idea that a breach of privilege had taken place, and de clared that he had addressed the President only in his mUitary capacity ; the majority had him in a position where the temptation to punish was irresistible, and he was forced to endure the stripes. Even Mr. GaUatin's skillful defense of him was a little equivocal. " As I do not feel my self possessed of sufficient courage," said he, " to support the character of a reformer of re ceived customs, I shaU not, when they are only absurd but harmless, pretend to deviate from them, and I do not mean to change my manner in order to assume that used by the gentleman ; but he certainly has a right to do it if he thinks proper." One can hardly doubt that the expe- 44 JOHN RANDOLPH rience of being insulted in public, and censured for it by Congress, though somewhat sharp, did Randolph good. He was more cautious for a long time afterwards; talked less about raga muffins and hirelings ; went less out of his way to challenge attention ; and was more amenable to good advice. Indeed, it might be supposed from the index to the reported debates that he did not again open his mouth before the adjourn ment ; but, on the other hand, he has himself said that the best speech he ever made was on the subject of the Connecticut Reserve at this session, and the record shows that on AprU 4, 1800, he did speak on this subject, although his remarks were not reported. In fact, he took an active share in the public business. His spirits seem to have been much depressed. "I too am wretched," he wrote to his friend Bryan, in the course of the winter. He says that he meditated resigning his seat and going to Europe. He seems to have been suffering under a complication of trials, the mystery of which his biographers had best not attempt to penetrate ; for his wails of despair, sometimes genuine, but oftener the effect of an uncontroUed temperament, teU nothing more than that he was morbid and nervous. " My character, like many other sublunary things, hath lately under gone an almost total revolution." No such VIRGINIAN POLITICS 45 change is apparent, but possibly he was reaUy suffering under some mental distress. There is talk even of a love affair, but it is very certain that no affair of the heart had at any time a serious influence over his life. Nothing, however, is more remarkable than the solemnity with which he regarded himself. It is curious that a man so quick in seeing the weakness of others, and in later life so admira bly terse in diction and ideas, should have been able to see nothing preposterous in his own mag niloquence, or could have gravely written a letter such as that to the President ; but he was writing in a simUar vein to his only very inti mate friend, Bryan, teUing him that " the eagle eye of friendship finds no difficulty in piercing the veU which shrouds you ; " that " you seek in vain to fly from misery; it wUl accompany you ; it wiU rankle in that heart in whose cruel wounds it rejoices to dweU." This was not the tone of his friend, for Bryan had used language which, if profane, was at least natural, and had only said that he " was in a heU of a taking for two or three days," on account of a love affair, and was going to Europe in consequence. Bom bast, however, was a fault of the young Virginian school. John Thompson, one of Randolph's intimates, the author of Gracchus, Cassius, Cur tius, and Heaven knows how many more clas- 46 JOHN RANDOLPH sical effusions, wrote in the same stilted and pseudo-Ciceronian sentences. This young man died in 1799, only twenty-three years old ; his brother WilUam was another of Randolph's friends, and not a very safe one, for his habits were bad even at twenty, and grew worse as he went on. All these young men seem to have lived on mock heroics. John Thompson, writ ing to his brother in 1799, mentions that Ran dolph is running for Congress : " He is a bril liant and noble young man. He wiU be an object of admiration and terror to the enemies of Uberty." WiUiam Thompson was, if possible, stiU more in the clouds than his brother John ; his nonsense was something never imagined out of a stage drama of Kotzebue. " Often do I ex claim. Would that you and I were cast on some desert island, there to Uve out the remainder of our days unpoUuted by the communication with man ! " In politics, in love, in friendship, all was equaUy classic ; every boyish scrape was a Greek tragedy, and every stump speech a terror to the enemies of liberty. To treat such effu sions in boys of twenty as serious is out of the question, even though their ringleader was a member of Congress ; but they are interesting, because they show how solemnly these yoimg reformers of 1800 believed in themselves and in their reforms. The world's great age had for VIRGINIAN POLITICS 47 them begun anew, and the golden years returned. They were real Grracchi, Curtii, Cassii. His Uttle coUision with the President, there fore, was calculated to do Randolph good. He had come to Washington a devoted admirer of the first Pitt, hoping, perhaps, to imitate that terrible cornet of horse, and, unless Ukenesses are very deceptive, he studied, too, the tone and temper of the younger Pitt, the great orator of the day, who had been prime minister at twenty- five, and was stiU ruUng the House of Com mons, as Randolph aspired to rule the House of Representatives. The sharp check received at the outset was a corrective to these ideas; it made him no less ambitious to command, but it taught him to curb his temper, to bide his time, and not expose himself to ridicule. CHAPTER ni IN HAKNESS In the autumn of 1800 the presidential elec tion took place, which overthrew the federalist sway, and brought the repubUcan party into power. As every reader knows, Jefferson and Burr received an equal number of electoral votes, a result which, under the Constitution as it then stood, threw the choice into the House of Representatives, where the vote must be taken by States. This business absorbed atten tion and left little opening for members to put themselves forward in debate. Randolph, Uke the rest, could only watch eagerly and write letters, two of which, addressed to Joseph H. Nicholson, then for a few days absent from his seat, are curious as showing his state of mind towards Mr. Jefferson, the idol of his party. The first letter is dated December 17, 1800 : — " There is not a shadow of doubt that the vote will be equal between them [Jefferson and Burr], and if we suffer ourselves to be bullied by the aristocrats they wiU defeat the election. The only mode for us to adopt is to offer them choice of the men, and see IN HARNESS 49 on which horn of the dilemma they will chose to hang themselves. ... I need not say how much I would prefer Jefferson to Burr ; but I am not like some of our party, who are as much devoted to him as the feds were to General Washington. I am not a mon archist in any sense." These ideas seem to have startled Nicholson, who repUed with a remonstrance, whUe in the mean time public opinion in Washington quickly decided that Jefferson alone could be accepted as the repubUcan candidate. On January 1, 1801, a fortnight later, Randolph wrote with a considerable change of tone : — "I have very obscurely expressed, or yon have misconceived, my meaning, if you infer from either of my letters that the election, whether of J. or B., to the presidency is in my estimation a matter of indifference." i Then, after explaining that the wiU of the people would in any case decide his conduct and preferences, he continued : — " 'T is true that I have observed, with a disgust which I have been at no pains to conceal, a spirit of personal attachment evinced by some of the support ers of Mr. J., whose republicanism has not been the most unequivocal. There are men who do right from wrong motives, if indeed it can be morally right to act with evil views. There are those men who sup port republicans from monarchical principles ; and if 50 JOHN RANDOLPH the head of that very great and truly good man can be turned by adulatory nonsense, they will endeavor to persuade him that our salvation depends on an in dividual. This is the essence of monarchy, and with this doctrine I have been, am, and ever will be, at issue." This was sound doctrine for a man of the people, who held no office and had no object in poUtics beyond the pubUc good ; but in a man himself aspiring to rival the demi-god, and who instinctively disUked what other men adored, it was open to misinterpretation. Mr. Jefferson was quick — no man was quicker — to feel a breath of coldness in his supporters. What would he have thought had Nicholson shown him these letters ? For the present Randolph's independence roused no iU-feeling or suspicion. Mr. Jefferson got his election by the withdrawal of federaUst votes. The session passed without bringing to Randolph any special opportunity for distin guishing himself; and on March 4, 1801, the new administration was organized. In every way it was favorable to Randolph's ambition. The President was a Virginian and a blood relation, although perhaps not on that account dearer to Randolph's affections; the Secretary of State was a Virginian ; and, stUl better, the appointment of GaUatin as Secretary of the IN HARNESS 51 Treasury removed from the House its oldest and ablest leader. The summer of 1801 was passed quietly at Bizarre, while Mr. Jefferson was getting his new administration into order, and preparing a series of measures intended to purify the Constitution and restore the States to their proper functions. On July 18, 1801, Randolph writes thus to his friend Nicholson : — " If you are not surfeited with politics, I am. I shall therefore say but a word on that subject, to tell you that in this quarter we think that the great work is only begun, and that without a substantial reform we shall have Uttle reason to congratulate ourselves on the mere change of men. Independent of its precariousness, we disdain to hold our privileges by so base a tenure. We challenge them as of right, and will not have them depend on the complexion of an individual. The objects of this reform wrU at once suggest themselves to you." In other words, if Mr. Jefferson did not prove reformer enough, Randolph would do his own reforming, and wished for Nicholson's help. Here already is the germ of his future develop ment and the clue to his erratic career. The writer goes on : — " It is no exaggeration when I tell you that there is more of poUtics in the preceding page than I have thought, spoken, or written since I saw you. During 52 JOHN RANDOLPH this period I have been closely engaged in my own affairs, which afford very Uttle of satisfaction or amusement." He had passed the last session in the same house with the Nicholsons, and wished to do so again : — "Do exert yourself and procure lodgings for us both in time. I shall want stabling for two horses, and a carriage house. . . . By Christmas I expect the leeches of Washington, having disgorged much of their last winter's prey, will be pretty sharp set. On making up my accounts I find that, independent of the unlucky adventure of my pocket-book, I have had the honor of expending in the service of the United States nearly $1,000, exclusive of their com pensation. Such another blood-letting, in addition to the expensive tour which I undertake to-morrow [to the warm springs] and the faU of produce, wiU be too much for my feeble frame to endure. I therefore wish to lay aside the character of John BuU for a time at least ; and, although I wUl not Uve in a sty, wish you to have some eye to economy in the arrange ment above mentioned. 'T is the order of the day, you know." And finaUy comes a significant little postscript : "What think you of the New Jersey super visor ? " The New Jersey supervisor was James Linn, a member of the last Congress, whose doubtful vote decided the State of New Jersey IN HARNESS 53 for Jefferson, and who now received his reward in the profitable office of supervisor. Randolph seems to have questioned the perfect disinterest edness of the transaction on either side. This glimpse of his private Ufe shows the spirit in which he took up his new responsi bilities. He prided himself on independence. These old repubUcans of the South, Giles, Macon, Nicholson, Randolph, and their friends, always asserted their right to judge party mea sures by their private standard, and to vote as they pleased ; nor was this right a mere theory, for they exercised it freely, and sometimes fatally, to their party interests. Whether they were wise or foolish statesmen, the difference between them and others was simply in this pride, or, as some may caU it, self-respect, which made them despise with caustic contempt poU ticians who obeyed party orders and surrendered their consciences to a caucus. Even in 1801 Randolph would probably have horsewhipped any man who dared teU him he must obey his party, but the whip itself would not have ex pressed half the bitter contempt his heart felt for so mean a wretch. To be jealous of execu tive influence and patronage was the duty of a true republican, and to wear the livery of a su perior was his abhorrence. Randolph, from the first, was jealous of Mr. Jefferson. Whether he was right or wrong is the riddle of his Ufe. 54 JOHN RANDOLPH When Congress met, December 7, 1801, the House chose Nathaniel Macon for its Speaker. Honest, simple-minded, ignorant as a North Carolinian planter in those days was expected to be, and pure as any Cincinnatus ever bred by Rome, Macon was dazzled and bewitched by the charm of Randolph's manner, mind, and ambition. Few southern men could ever resist Randolph's caresses when he chose to caress, and the men who foUowed him most faith fully and beUeved in bim to the last were the most high-minded and unselfish of south erners. Macon was already on his knees to him as before an ApoUo, and in spite of innu merable rude shocks the honest North Caro- Unian never quite freed himself from the strange fascination of this young Virginian Brutus, with eyes that pierced and voice that rang like the vibration of glass, and with the pride of twenty kings to back his more than Roman virtue. This conception of Randolph's character may have shown want of experience, but perhaps Macon had, among his simple theo ries, no stronger conviction than that Randolph was, what he himself was not, a true man of the world. At aU events, the Speaker instantly made his youthful idol chairman of the Ways and Means Committee and leader of the House. Thus, from the start, Randolph was put in the IN HARNESS S5 direct line of promotion to the Cabinet and the presidency. During the whole of Mr. Jeffer son's first administration, from 1801 to 1805, he was on trial, like a colt in training. Long afterwards Mr. GaUatin, in one of his private letters, ran over the Ust of candidates for honors, favored by the triumvirate of Jefferson, Madison, and himseK : " During the twelve years I was at the Treasury I was anxiously looking for some man that could fiU my place there and in the general direction of the national concerns ; for one, indeed, that could replace Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Madison, and my self. Breckenridge of Kentucky only appeared and died ; the eccentricities and temper of J. Randolph soon destroyed his influence;" so that Mr. WilUam H. Crawford of Georgia became at last the residuum of six great repu tations. Randolph began, like Breckenridge, with marked superiority of will, as weU as of tal ents, and ruled over the House with a hand so heavy that WiUiam Pitt might have envied him. Even Mr. Jefferson in the White House, wielding an influence little short of despotic, did not venture to put on, like Randolph, the manners of a despot. Outside the House, how ever, his authority did not extend. In the Cabinet and in the Senate other men over- 56 JOHN RANDOLPH shadowed him, and some dramatic climax could hardly fail to spring from this conflict of forces. The story of Randolph's career as a party leader marks an epoch ; round it cluster more serious difficulties, doubts, problems, para doxes, more disputes as to fact and theory, more contradictions in the estimate to be put on men caUed great, than are to be found in any other part of our history. Elsewhere it is not hard for the student to find a clue to right and wrong ; to take sides, and mete out some mea^ sure of justice with some degree of confidence ; but in regard to John Randolph's extraordinary career from 1800 to 1806 it is more than likely that no two historians wiU ever agree. From the moment of his first appearance in Congress, Randolph claimed and received recog nition as a representative of the extreme school of Virginian republicans, whose political creed was expressed by the Resolutions of 1798. Dread of the Executive, of corruption and patronage, of usurpations by the central gov ernment ; dread of the Judiciary as an invari able servant to despotism; dread of national sovereignty altogether, were the dogmas of this creed. AU these men foresaw what the people of America would be obliged to meet; they were firmly convinced that the central govern ment, intended to be the people's creature and IN HARNESS 57 servant, would one day make itself the people's master, and, interpreting its own powers without asking permission, would become extravagant, corrupt, despotic. Accordingly they set them selves to the task of correcting past mistakes, and of establishing a new line of precedents to fix the character of future poUtics. Every branch of the government except the Judiciary was in their hands. Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Madi son, and Mr. GaUatin were their greatest lead ers; Macon, the Speaker, was heart and soul with them ; Joseph H. Nicholson and Randolph were Macon's closest friends, and by these three men the House of Representatives was ruled. If any government could be saved, this was it. No one can deny the abiUty with which Mr. Jefferson's first administration began its career, or the brilUant success which it won. During twelve years of opposition the party had ham mered out a scheme of government, forging it, so to speak, on the anvil of federalism, so as to be f ederaUsm precisely reversed. The constitu tion of the repubUcan party was the federaUsts' constitution read backwards, like a mediaeval invocation of the devil ; and this was in many respects and for ordinary times the best and safest way of reading it, although foUowed for only a few years by its inventors, and then 58 JOHN RANDOLPH going out of fashion, never again to be heard of except as mere party shibboleth, not seriously intended, even by its loudest champions, but strong for them to conjure with among honest and earnest citizens. In 1801, however, the party was itself in earnest. Mr. Jefferson and his Virginian foUowers thoroughly believed themselves to have founded a new system of polity. Never did any party or any adminis tration in our country begin a career of power with such entire confidence that a new era of civUization and liberty had dawned on earth. If Mr. Jefferson did not rank among his foUow ers as one of the greatest lawgivers recorded in history, a resplendent figure seated by the side of Moses and Solon, of Justinian and Charle magne, the tone of the time much beUes them. In his mind, what had gone before was mon- archism ; what came after was alone true repub- Ucanism. However absurdly this doctrine may have sounded to northern ears, and to men who knew the relative character of New England and Virginia, the stiU greater absurdities of leading, federalists lent some color of truth to it ; and there can be no doubt that Mr. Jeffer son, by his very freedom from theological pre judices and from Calvinistic doctrines, was a sounder democrat than any orthodox New Eng lander could ever hope to be. Thus it was that IN HARNESS 59 he took into his hand the federalists' constitu tion, and set himself to the task of stripping away its monarchical excrescences, and restoring its true republican outlines ; but its one serious excrescence, the only one which was essentiaUy and dangerously monarchical, he could not, or would not, touch ; it was his own office, — the executive power. When Randolph spoke of a " substantial reform," he meant that he wanted something radical, something more than a mere change of office-holders. The federalists had built up the nation at the expense of the States ; their work must be undone. When he returned to Wash ington he found what it was that the President and the party proposed to do by way of restoring purity to the system. In the executive depart ment, forms were to be renounced; patronage cut down ; influence diminished ; the army and navy reduced to a police force ; internal taxes abandoned ; the debt paid, and its centraUzing influence removed from the body politic ; nay, even the mint aboUshed as a useless expense, and foreign coins to be used in preference to those of the nation, since even a copper cent, the only national coin then in common use, was a daily and irritating assertion of national over state sovereignty. In the legislative depart ment there could be little change except in sen- 60 JOHN RANDOLPH timent, and in their eamest wish to heal the wounds that the Constitution had suffered ; but in the Judiciary ! — there was the rub ! The test of the party policy lay here. AU these Jeffersonian reforms, payment of debt, reduction of patronage, abandonment of eti quette, preference of Spanish doUars, touched only the surface of things. The executive power was stiU there, though it might not be so visible; the legislative power was also there, dangerous as ever even by its very acts of re form; while, to exorcise these demons effectu aUy, it was necessary to alter the Constitution itself, which neither Mr. Jefferson nor his party dared to do. There was something not merely ridicidous, but contemptible, in abolishing the President's receptions and stopping the coinage of cents, while that terrible clause was left in the Constitution which enabled Congress to make all laws it might choose to think " neces sary and proper" to carry out its own powers and provide for the general welfare; or while the Judiciary stood ready at any moment to in terpret that clause as it pleased. Certainly Randolph's own wishes would have favored a thorough revision of the Constitution and the laws ; he knew where the radical danger lay, and would have supported with his usual energy any radical measures of reform, but it IN HARNESS 61 was not upon him that responsibUity rested. The President and the Cabinet shrank from strong measures, and the northern democrats were not to be relied upon for their support. Moreover, the Senate was stiU narrowly divided, and the federaUsts were not only strong in num bers, but in abUity. Perhaps, however, the real reason for foUowing a moderate course lay deeper than any mere question of majorities. The repubUcan party in 1801 would not touch the true sources of political danger, the execu tive and legislative powers, because they them selves now controUed these powers, and they honestly thought that, so long as this was the case, states' rights and private liberties were safe. The Judiciary, however, was not within their control, but was whoUy federalist, and likely for many years to remain so, — a fortress of centralization, a standing threat to states' rights. The late administration had in its last moments, after the election of Mr. Jefferson, taken a series of measures meant not only to rivet its own hold over the Judiciary, but to widen and strengthen the influence of national at the expense of state courts by reconstructing the judiciary system, reducing to five the num ber of judges on the supreme bench, and in creasing the district courts to twenty-three, thus creating as many new judges. This done, the 62 JOHN RANDOLPH late President fiUed up these offices with feder aUsts ; the Senate confirmed his appointments ; and, to crown aU, the President appointed and the Senate confirmed the ablest of the Virginian federaUsts, the Secretary of State, John Mar shall, as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. The new President was furious at this ma noeuvre, and to the last day of his life never spoke of what he caUed the " midnight appoint ments " without an unusual display of temper, although it is not clear that a midnight appoint ment is worse than a midday appointment, or that the federalists were boimd to please a Pre sident who came into office solely to undo their work. The real cause of Mr. Jefferson's anger, and its excuse, lay beneath the matter of patron age, in the fact that the Judiciary thus estab lished was a serious if not fatal obstacle to his own success; for untU the fountain of justice should be purified the stream of constitutional law could not run pure, the necessary legal pre cedents could not be estabUshed, the States could not be safe from encroachments, or the President himself from constant insult. Thus it was that the most serious question for the new President and his party regarded the Judiciary, and this question of the Judi ciary was that which Congress undertook to settle. Randolph, and men of his reckless na- IN HARNESS 63 ture, seeing clearly that Chief Justice MarshaU and the Supreme Court, backed by the array of circuit and district judges, could always over turn repubUcan principles and strict construc tion faster than Congress and the President could set them up, saw with the same clearness that an entire reform of the Judiciary and its adhesion to the popular wiU were necessary, since otherwise the gross absurdity would f oUow that four fifths of the people and of the States, both Houses of Congress, the Executive, and the state Judiciaries might go on forever declar ing and maintaining that the central govern ment had not the right to interpret its own powers, whUe John MarshaU and three or four old federalists on the supreme bench proved the contrary by interpreting those powers as they liked, and by making their interpretation law. Randolph and his friends, therefore, wished to reconstruct the Judiciary throughout, and to secure an ascendency over the courts of law, but the northern democrats dreaded nothing more than the charge of revolutionary and violent attacks on the Constitution ; the President and Cabinet gave no encouragement to hasty and intemperate measures ; all the wise heads of the party advised that Chief Justice Marshall and the Supreme Court should be left to the influ ence of time ; and that Congress should be con- 64 JOHN RANDOLPH tent with aboUshing the new circuit system of the federaUsts, and with getting rid of the new judges. On January 4, 1802, Randolph moved for an inquiry into the condition of the judiciary estab lishment, and the motion was referred to a committee of which his friend Nicholson was chairman. Pending their report, a bUl came down from the Senate by which the Judiciary Act of 1800 was repealed. The debate which now ensued in the House was long and discur sive. The federaUsts naturaUy declared that this repealing act put an end forever to the independence of the Judiciary, and that it was intended to do so ; they declaimed against its constitutionality ; ransacked history and law to prove their positions, and ended by declaring, as they had declared with the utmost simplicity of faith on every possible occasion for ten years past : " We are standing on the brink of that revolutionary torrent which deluged in blood one of the fairest countries in Europe." Yet the Repealing Act was in fact not revolution, but concession ; overthrowing a mere outer line of defense, it left the citadel intact, and gave a tacit pledge that the federaUst supreme bench should not be disturbed, at least for the present. When it is considered that Chief Justice Mar shall, in the course of his long judicial career, m HARNESS 65 rooted out Mr. Jefferson's system of poUty more effectuaUy than aU the Presidents and aU the Congresses that ever existed, and that the Su preme Court not only made war on states' rights, but supported with surprising unanimity every political and constitutional innovation on the part of Congress and the Executive, it can only be a matter of wonder that Mr. Jefferson's party, knowing weU the danger, and aware that their Uves and fortunes depended, or might probably depend, on their action at this point, should have let Chief Justice Marshall slip through their fingers. To remodel the whole bench might have been revolution, but not to remodel it was to insure the failure of their aim. The republicans were over-confident in their own strength and in the permanence of their principles ; they had in fact hoodwinked them selves, and Mr. Jefferson and John Randolph were responsible for their trouble. The party had reaUy fought against the danger of an over grown governmental machine, but Mr. Jeffer son and John Randolph had told them they were fighting against monarchy. Setting up, to excite themselves, a scarecrow with a crown upon its head, they caUed it King John I., and then, with shouts of delight, told It to go back to Braintree. The scarecrow vanished at their 66 JOHN RANDOLPH word, and they thought their battle won. Ran dolph saw from time to time that, so far as there had been any monarchy in question, the only difference was that Thomas Jefferson in stead of John Adams wore the shadow of a crown, but even Randolph had not the perspi cacity or the courage to face the whole truth, and to strike at the very tangible power which stood behind this imaginary throne. He, like aU the rest, was wiUing to be silent now that his people were masters ; he turned away from the self -defined, sovereign authority which was to grind his " country," as he caUed Virginia, into the dust ; he had, it may be, filxed his eyes somewhat too keenly on that phantom crown, and in imagination was wearing it himself, — King John II. The debate on the Judiciary in the session of 1801-2 lacks paramount interest because the states'-rights repubUcans, being now in power, were afraid of laying weight on their own princi ple, although there was then no taint of slavery or rebeUion about it, and although it was a principle of which any man, who honestly be lieved in it, must be proud. On the day when Randolph moved his inquiry, Mr. Bayard of Delaware, in debating the new apportionment biU, had proposed to make 30,000 instead of 33,000 the ratio of representation, and had IN HARNESS 67 given as his reason the belief that an addition of ten members to the House would do more than an army of 10,000 men to increase its energy, and to give power by giving popularity to the government. Randolph sprang to his feet as Bayard sat down, and burst into a strong states'-rights speech; yet even then, speaking on the spur of his feelings, he was afraid to say what was in his mind, — that the powers of government were abeady too strong, and needed to be diminished. " Without entering into the question whether the power devolved on the general government by the Constitution exceeds that measure which in its formation I would have been willing to bestow, I have no hesitation in declaring that it does not faU short of it; that I dread its extension, by whatever means, and shaU always oppose measures whose object or tendency is to effect it." Throughout the speech he stood on the defensive ; he evaded the challenge that Bayard threw down. The same caution was repeated in the judi ciary debate, where there was still less excuse for timidity. The biU could be defended only on the ground that the new Judiciary had been intended to strengthen the national at the ex pense of the state courts ; and that the principle of limited powers could only be maintained by fostering the energies of the States, and espe- 68 JOHN RANDOLPH cially of the state Judiciaries, and by protecting them from the interference of the general gov ernment. Randolph showed himself afraid of this reasoning ; his party dreaded it ; the Presi dent discouraged it; and the federalists would have been delighted to caU it out. When, on February 20, 1802, Bayard concluded his long judiciary speech, Randolph again rose to answer him, and again took the defensive. In an in genious and vigorous argument, as nearly states manlike as any he ever made, he defended the repeal as constitutional, and certainly with suc cess. He conceded a great deal to the opposition. " I am free to declare that, if the intent of this biU is to get rid of the judges, it is a perversion of your power to a base purpose; it is an un constitutional act. The quo animo determines the nature of this act, as it determines the innocence or guUt of other acts." What, then, was the quo animo, the intent, which constrained him to this repeal ? Surely this was the moment for laying down those broad and permanent principles which the national legislature ought in future to observe in dealing with extensions of the central power; now, if ever, Randolph should have risen to the height of that really great argument which alone justifies his exist ence or perpetuates his memory as a statesman. What was his "substantial reform"? What IN HARNESS 69 were its principles ? What its limits ? "If you are precluded from passing this law lest depraved men make it a precedent to destroy the inde pendence of your Judiciary, do you not concede that a desperate faction, finding themselves about to be dismissed from the confidence of their country, may pervert the power of erecting courts, to provide to an extent for their adher ents and themselves?" "We assert that we are not clothed with the tremendous power of erecting, in defiance of the whole spirit and express letter of the Constitution, a vast judicial aristocracy over the heads of our f eUow-citizens, on whose labor it is to prey." "It is not on account of the paltry expense of the new estab lishment that I wish to put it down. No, sir ! It is to give the death-blow to the pretension of rendering the Judiciary an hospital for decayed poUticians ; to prevent the state courts from be ing engulfed by those of the Union ; to destroy the monstrous ambition of arrogating to this House the right of evading all the prohibitions of the Constitution, and holding the nation at bay." That is aU ! Just enough to betray his purpose without justifying it; to show temper without proving courage or forethought ! This was not the way in which Gallatin and Madison had led their side of the House. Take it as one 70 JOHN RANDOLPH wiU, aU this talk about "judicial aristocracy" preying on labor, these sneers at " decayed poli ticians," was poor stuff. Worse than this: without a thorough justification in principle, the repeal itself was a blow at the very doctrine of strict construction, since it strained the powers of Congress by a dangerous precedent, without touching the power of the Judiciary ; it was the first of many instances in which Mr. Jefferson's administration unintentionaUy enlarged and ex aggerated the powers of the general government in one or another of its branches. By way of conclusion to a speech which, as Randolph must have felt, was neither candid nor convincing, he made a remark which showed that he was stiU jealous of executive influence, and that he wished to act honestly, even where his own party was concerned, in proving his good faith. Mr. Bayard twitted him with being a mere tool of Mr. Jefferson, and the sneer rankled. " If the gentleman is now anxious to protect the independence of this and the other House of Congress against executive influence, regardless of his motives, I pledge myself to support any measure which he may bring for ward for that purpose, and I believe I may venture to pledge every one of my friends." Whether Mr. Jefferson would be flattered by this hint that his finger was too active in legis- IN HARNESS 71 lation seems to have been a matter about which Randolph was indifferent. The Judiciary BiU, however, was not Ran dolph's work, but was rather imposed upon him by the party. His speech showed that he was in harness, under strict discipUne, and rather anxious to disguise the fuU strength of his opinions than to lay down any party doctrine. The bill passed the house by a large majority and became law, while the practical work of the Ways and Means Committee f eU to Ran dolph's special care, and proved serious enough to prevent his eccentric mind from worrying about possible evils in a distant future. He was obliged to master Gallatin's financial scheme; to explain and defend his economies, the abolition of taxes, and operations in ex change, — details of financial legislation which were as foreign to Randolph's taste and habits of mind as they were natural to Gallatin. This was the true limit of his responsibUity, and there is nothing to prove that he was otherwise consulted by the President or the Cabinet. The federalists, who were better men of busi ness and more formidable debaters than the republican majority, offered the usual opposi tion and asked the ordinary troublesome ques tions. At this early day the rules of the House had not been altered ; to stop debate by silen- 72 JOHN RANDOLPH cing the minority was impossible, and therefore Randolph and his friends undertook to stop debate by silencing themselves, answering no questions, listening to no criticisms, and voting solidly as the administration directed. Such a poUcy has long since proved itself to be not only dangerous and dictatorial, but blundering, for it gives an irresistible advantage of sarcasm, irony, and argument to the minority, — an ad vantage which the federaUsts were quick to use. After a short trial the experiment was given up. The repubUcans resumed their tongues, a Uttle mortified at the ridicule they had invited, and in future they preferred the more effective policy of gagging their opponents rather than themselves ; but there remained the remarkable fact that this attempt to check waste of time was made under the leadership of John Ran dolph, who in later years wasted without the least compunction more public time than any public man of his day in discursive and unprofit able talk. The explanation is easy. In 1802 Randolph and his party wished to prove their competence and to make a reputation as practi cal men of business ; they frowned upon waste of time, and wanted the pubUc to understand that they were not to blame for it. Randolph set the example by speaking as little as possi ble, always to the point, and by indulging his IN HARNESS 73 rebeUious temper only so far as might safely be aUowed ; that is to say, in outbursts against the federalists alone. He gained ground at this session, and was a more important man in May, 1802, when he rode home to Bizarre, than in the previous au tumn when he left it. Congress had done good work under his direction. The internal taxes were aboUshed and half the government patron age cut off ; the army and navy suffered what Mr. Jefferson caUed a " chaste reformation ; " the new federaUst judiciary was swept away. It is true that, with aU these reforms in detaU, not one dangerous power had been expressly limited, nor had one word of the Constitution been altered or defined; no federalist prece dents, not even the Alien and Sedition laws, were branded as unconstitutional by either House of Congress or by the Executive. The government was reformed, as an army may be cut down, by dismissing half the rank and file and reducing the expenses, whUe leaving aU its latent strength ready at any moment for recaU- ing the men and renewing the extravagance. There is nothing to show that Randolph now saw or cared for this fact, although he after wards thought proper to throw upon others the responsibUity for inaction. CHAPTER IV A CENTEALIZIN6 STATESMAN After the session closed, early in May, 1802, Randolph retired to Bizarre and remained there, undisturbed by politics, until called back to Washington by the meeting of Congress in December. In the interval events happened which threatened to upset aU the theories of the new administration. Napoleon, having made peace with England, turned his attention to America, sending a huge armament to St. Do mingo to rescue that island from Toussaint and the blacks, whUe at the same instant it was made known that he had recovered Louisiana from Spain, and was about to secure his new posses sion. FinaUy, at the close of the year, it was suddenly announced that the Spanish Intendant at New Orleans had put an end to the right of deposit in that city, recognized by the Spanish treaty of 1795. The world naturaUy jumped to the conclusion that aU these measures were parts of one great scheme, and that a war with France was inevitable. Randolph's position was that of a mere A CENTRALIZING STATESMAN 75 mouth-piece of the President, and Mr. Jefferson adopted a policy not without inconvenience to subordinates. To foreign nations Mr. Jeffer son spoke in a very warlike tone ; at home he ardently wished to soothe irritation, and to pre vent himself from being driven into a war distasteful to him. For Mr. Jefferson to act this double part was not difficult; his nature was versatUe, supple, gentle, and not conten tious ; for Randolph to imitate him was not so easy, yet on Randolph the burden feU. He was commissioned by the government to manage the most delicate part of the whole business, the action of the House. It was Randolph who, on December 17, 1802, moved for the Spanish papers ; forced the House into secret committee, which he emphaticaUy caUed "his offspring;" kept separate the public and the secret com munications from the President; and held the party together on a peace policy which the westem repubUcans did not like, in opposition to the federalists' war policy which many repub licans preferred. Unfortunately, the debates were mostly secret, and very little ever leaked out ; this only is certain : the President sent to the House a pubUc and cautious message, with documents; Randolph carried the House into secret session to debate them; there some ad ministration member, either Randolph or Nich- 76 JOHN RANDOLPH olson, produced a resolution, drawn up by Mr. Madison or by the President himself, appropri ating two miUion doUars "to defray any expenses which may be incurred in relation to the inter course between the United States and foreign nations ; " this resolution was referred to a committee, with Nicholson for chairman, who made a report explaining that the object of the appropriation was to purchase East and West Florida and New Orleans, in preference to mak ing war for them ; and, on the strength of this secret report, the House voted the money. The public debate had been running on at intervals while these secret proceedings were in hand, but the reports are singularly meagre and duU. It seems to have been Randolph's poUcy to hold his party together by keeping open the gap between them and the federalists, and these tactics were not only sound in party policy, but were suited to his temper and talents. The federalists wanted war, not so much with Spain as with Napoleon. Kentucky and Tennessee wanted it, not because they cared for the fed eralists' objects, but because they were more sure to get the mouth of the Mississippi by fighting than by temporizing. To prevent Kentucky and Tennessee from joining the opposition, it was necessary to repel the federaUsts, and yet promise war to the western repubUcans in case A CENTRALIZING STATESMAN 77 the proposed purchase should faU. No task could be more congenial to Randolph's mind than that of repelUng insidious advances from federalists. He trounced them vigorously ; showed that they had offered to sacrifice the navigation of the Mississippi some years before there had been a federalist party at all, or even a House of Representatives, and after proving their innate wickedness and the virtues of the party now in power, he concluded, — " When an administration have formed the design of subverting the pubUc liberties, of enriching them selves or their adherents out of the pubUc purse, or of crushing aU opposition beneath the strong hand of power, war has ever been the favorite ministerial specific. Hence have we seen men in power too generaUy incUned to hostile measures, and hence the opposition have been, as uniformly, the champions of peace, not choosing to nerve with new vigor, the natural consequence of war, hands on whose hearts or heads they were unwilling to bestow their confidence. But how shaU we account for the exception which is now exhibited to this hitherto received maxim ? On the one part the solution is easy. An administration, under which our country fiourishes beyond aU former example, with no sinister views, seeking to pay off the public incumbrances, to lessen the pubUc burdens, and to leave to each man the enjoyment of the fruits of his own labor, are therefore desirous of peace so long as it can be preserved consistently with the interests 78 JOHN RANDOLPH and honor of the country. On the other hand, what do you see ? ShaU I say an opposition sickening at the sight of the pubUc prosperity; seeking through war, confusion, and a consequent derangement of our finances, that aggrandizement which the public f eUcity must forever forbid ? No, sir ! My respect for this House and for those gentlemen forbids this declara tion, whilst, at the same time, I am unable to account on any other principle for their conduct." In aU this matter, so far as general poUcy was concerned, the administration behaved dis creetly and weU. No fault is to be found with Randolph, unless, perhaps, the usual one of temper. In every point of view, peace was the true policy ; forbearance towards Spain proved to be the proper course ; distrust of the federal ists was fuUy justified. There was no exag geration in the picture of public content which he drew, or in the rage with which the federal ists looked at it. The stiU unknown character of Napoleon Bonaparte was the only cloud in the political horizon; and untU this developed itself there was no occasion for the President to hazard the success of his pacific policy. So far as Louisiana was concerned, Ran dolph's activity seems to have stopped here. He did his part efficiently, and supported the administration even more steadily than usual. In the other work of the session, he was the A CENTRALIZING STATESMAN /9 most active member of the House ; aU financial business came under his charge, whUe much that was not financial depended on his approval; in short, he with his friend Nicholson and the Speaker controUed legislation. It is not, however, always easy, or even pos sible, to see how far this influence went. One biographer has said that at this session he spoke and voted for a bUl to prevent the importation of slaves ; but this was not the case. Some of the States, alarmed at the danger of being in undated with rebel negroes from St. Domingo and Guadaloupe, had passed laws to protect themselves, and, in order to make this legisla tion effective, a monstrous bUl was reported by a committee of Congress, according to which no captain of a vessel could bring into the ports of any State which had passed these laws a negro, mulatto, or person of color, under penalty of one thousand dollars for each. No negro or mulatto, slave or free, fresh from bloody St. Domingo or from the Guinea coast, whether born and educated in Paris, a citizen of France, or a free citizen of the United States, a soldier of the Revolution, could, under this biU, saU into any of these ports without subjecting the master of his vessel to a fine of one thousand doUars. Even the coUectors of customs were directed to be governed by the laws of the 80 JOHN RANDOLPH States. Such a measure excited opposition. Leading republicans from the North pointed out the unconstitutional and impossible nature of its provisions, and moved its recommitment. So far as Randolph is concerned, the report mentions him only as one of those who opposed recommitment, and insisted on the passage of the bUl as it stood. The opposition carried its point ; the biU was amended and passed on February 17, 1803. Randolph did not vote on its passage, although his name appears at the next division the same day. He seems to have been beaten again on the subject of the Mint, which he moved to aboUsh. Indeed, after making one strong effort to over come opposition to this measure, he was so de cidedly defeated that he never touched the subject again, and ceased to sneer at the "in signia of sovereignty." On the other hand, he carried, without serious opposition, the impor tant bUl for establishing a fund for schools and roads out of the proceeds of land sales in the Northwestern territory, and he shared with his friend, Nicholson, the burden of impeaching Judge Pickering, whose mental condition ren dered him incapable of sitting on the bench. With this impeachment, on March 4, 1803, the session closed. By the federalists, the at tack on Judge Pickering was taken as the first A CENTRALIZING STATESMAN 81 of a series of impeachments, intended to revolu tionize the political character of the courts, but there is nothing to prove that this was then the intent of the majority. The most obnoxious justice on the supreme bench was Samuel Chase of Maryland, whose violence as a political parti san had certainly exposed him to the danger of impeachment ; but two years had now passed without producing any sign of an intention to disturb him, and it might be supposed that the administration thus condoned his offenses. Un luckily, Judge Chase had not the good taste or the judgment to be quiet. He irritated his enemies by new indiscretions, and on May 13, 1803, nearly three months after Pickering's im peachment, Mr. Jefferson, in a letter to Joseph H. Nicholson, suggested that it would be weU to take him in hand : — " You must have heard of the extraordinary charge of Chase to the grand jury at Baltimore. Ought this seditious and official attack on the principles of our Constitution and on the proceedings of a State to go unpunished ? And to whom so pointedly as yourself wiU the pubUc look for the necessary measures ? I ask these questions for your consideration. As for myself, it is better that I should not interfere." Accordingly, Nicholson took up the matter, and consulted his friends, among others Macon, the Speaker, who, in a letter dated August 6, 82 JOHN RANDOLPH 1803, expressed grave doubts whether the judge ought to be impeached for a charge to the grand jury, and his firm conviction that, if any attempt at impeachment should be made, Nicholson, at aU events, ought not to be the leader. On this hint that no candidate for the judge's office should take the lead, Nicholson seems to have passed on to Randolph the charge he had re ceived from the President. As usual, Randolph passed his summer at Bizarre. Some of his letters at this period are preserved, but have no special interest, except for a single sentence in one addressed to GaUa tin on June 4, which seems to prove that Ran dolph was not very serious in his parade of devotion to peace. Monroe had been sent to France to negotiate for the purchase of New Orleans, whUe at home not only the press, but the President, in order to support his negotia tion, openly threatened war should he faU. Randolph said, — " I think you wise men at the seat of government have much to answer for in respect to the temper prevailing around you. By their fruit shall ye know them. Is there something more of system yet intro duced among you ? Or are you stiU in chaos, with out form and void ? Should you have leisure, give me a hint of the first news from Mr. Monroe. After all the vaporing, I have no expectation of a serious war. Tant pis pour nous I " ^^^>^a^tin organizing against Adams, 288. Slavery, opposed by Randolph in theory, 21, 271, 280; possibUity of aboUtion of by Congress as serted by Randolph, 274, 277, 278. Slave-trade, biU to prevent, from St. Domingo, 79 ; biU to prohibit, opposed by Randolph, 209. Slave-trade, interstate, danger of its prohibition by Congress as serted by Randolph, 272. Sloan, James, attacked by Ran dolph, 176 ; describes Randolph's manner, 184 ; supports biU for prohibiting slave - trade, 209 ; sneered at by Nicholson, 215. SmiUe, John, objects to Chase's as signment to PhUadelphia circuit because of his conduct at Fries trial, 98 ; his remarks taken by Randolph as baaiB for Chase's im peachment, 98, 99, 101 ; supports biU prohibiting slave-trade, 209. Smith, Israel, indicted for treason, 219. Smith, John, his connection with Burr, 155; indicted for treason, 219. Smith, Robert, Randolph's opinion of, 159, 208 ; visits Randolph, 206; his incapacity described by Ran dolph, 209 ; appointed secretary of state, 233 ; his dismissal ex pected by Randolph, 239. INDEX 325 Smith, Samuel, Democratic leader in House, 40 ; senator from Mary land, 189 ; tries to supplant Mon roe, 189 ; driven back to support of Jefferson by Randolph's revolt, 189 ; his view of two-mill inn scheme, 189, 190 ; does not re sent appointment of Pinkney, 190 ; complains of feebleness of Jefferson's poUcy, 206 ; repudi ates "fine-spun theories," 206, 207 ; Randolph's opinion of his inconsistency, 208 ; prevents nom ination of GaUatin as secretary of state, 233 ; tries to drive him, from Treasury, 236. South CaroUna, leader in revived States'-rights struggle, 263 ; sup ported by Randolph in nullifica tion movement, 301. Spain, cedes Louisiana to France, 74; puts an end to right of de posit in New Orleans, 74; pro tests against France's cession of Louisiana as invaUd, 84, 114; re lations with broken off by Pinck ney, 114 ; refuses to yield to Monroe, 161 ; popular desire for war with, 162 ; proposal to buy West Florida from, through France, 162, 163, 164, 166. Stamford, Richard, correspondence of Randolph with, 250 ; invited by Monroe to dine, 267, States' rights, Randolph's advocacy of, 31-33, 37, 38 ; history of doc trine of, 32 ; RepubUcan doctrine of, hi 1800, 33, 34 ; explained by Virginia and Kentucky Resolu tions, 34, 35; favored by majority of people in 1800, 38 ; theory of, incompatible with Louisiana pur chase, 87, 88 ; advocated by Fed eraUsts when in opposition, 90 ; abandoned by Randolph in de fending Louisiana purchase, 90 ; asserted by Randolph in his Yazoo Resolutions, 105; in con nection with Potomac navigation, 124 ; damaged by war of 1812, 251, 252; movement for, begun by Jefferson, 252, 253 ; its connec tion with slavery, 270 ; Randolph the originator of its later use to defend slavery against the North, 272-278. Stith, WUUam, historian, connected with Randolph famUy, 3. Stuart, Gilbert, his portrait of Ran dolph, 159. SulUvan, James, opposes Madison, 231. Talleyrand, Prince Charles Mau rice DE, supports Spain in West Florida controversy, 161 ; offers to secure West Florida for seven milUons, 163; told by Napoleon to order United States to stop trade with St. Domingo, 185, 186. Taylor, Creed, attempt to run him as candidate against Randolph, 196. Taylor, John, of CaroUne, one of "old RepubUcans," 197, 214, 236 ; appealed to by Monroe to prevent quarrel with Randolph, 242, 243, 244. TazeweU, Littleton W., an "old RepubUcan," 197, 219, 235. Tennessee, wants war with Spain, 76. Thompson, John, author of Cur tius' letters, his style admired by Randolph, 177 ; its characteris tics, 30, 46, 46 ; death, 46. Thompson, Philip R., opposition to his election iu Virginia, 195. Thompson, WiUiam, bombastic let ters to Randolph, 46. Toussaint I'Ouverture, attacked by Napoleon, 74. Tracy, Uriah, his sarcasm, 141. Tucker, Henry St. George, with draws from his candidacy for sen ator in behalf of Randolph, 284. Tucker, St. Gteorge, marries Ran dolph's mother, 4; flies before Arnold's raid, 6, 6 ; in Greene's army, 6; his kindness to Ran dolph, 6 ; letters of Randolph to. 326 INDEX 15, 16 ; quarrel of Randolph with, 248,249. Turreau, General , notifies Mad ison that St. Domingo trade must stop, 186. Two-milUon scheme, 162-172, 181- 183, 189 ; its connection with biU to prohibit trade with St. Do mingo, 186. Tyler, Comfort, indicted for trea son, 219. Tyler, John, succeeds Randolph as senator from Virginia, 299. Van BtTRBN, Martin, leader of New York Democrats, 285 ; moves to debate Adams's Panama message in public, 285 ; arranges attack on administration with Randolph, 285. Vance, Joseph, on Randolph's ser vices in organizing South, 288. Van Ness, WilUam P., connection with Burr's duel, 113. Vanzandt, Nicholas B. , defeated for clerk of House through Ran dolph's infiuence, 221. Vamum, Joseph B., supports biU for prohibitmg slave-trade, 209; elected speaker, 220 ; appoints CampbeU to Ways and Means Committee, 221. Virginia, society in, 4 ; its ruin in evitable after separation from England, 6 ; youthful education in, 6, 7 ; family pride in, 8 ; read ing habits in, 9, 10 ; contradic tions in, 11, 12 ; Randolph typical of, 12 ; its old life endangered by adoption of Constitution, 18 ; pre pares for armed resistance to Se dition Law, 27, 28 ; adopts fa mous resolutions of 1798, 27, 35 ; protest of Henry against, 29 ; po Utical opinions of its leaders, 56 ; its political school wrecked by Randolph's quarrel with Madison and Jefferson, 188 ; attempts of Randolph to gain its support for Monroe over Madison, 194-202, 211, 212, 228 ; carried by Madison, 228, 233; not the leader in new States'-rights movement, 263 ; so cial atmosphere of, 259 ; elects Randolph to Senate, 284 ; re places him by Tyler, 299; holds Constitutional Convention, 300 ; attempt of Randolph to rouse, against Jackson in 1832, 301. War power of Congress, its possible use to emancipate slaves urged by Randolph, 274, 275. Washington, George, Randolph wit nesses his inauguration, 17, 18 ; Randolph's insulting toast to, 26 ; begs aid from Henry in 1799, 28. Watkins, Captain, broken down by Randolph, 258, 302. Wheaton, , informs Randolph of Burr's schemes, 155. Wilkinson, General James, connec tion with Burr, 156; Randolph's contempt for, 218, 219, 222 ; re fusal of Randolph to fight, 269. Wolcott, Alexander, his nomination rejected by Senate, 236. Yazoo land grants, made by Geor gia, revoked because of corrup tion, 23, 102 ; speculation in, throughout country, 102 ; diffi culty as to title, 102 ; cession of territory to United States, 103 ; compromise with purchasers pro posed by United States commis sioners, 103 ; attack of Randolph on the compromise, 106, 106 ; de bate in the House, 106-107, 109 ; discussion of merits of the revo cation, 107-109 ; renewed debate upon, 124-129 ; considered by Randolph Madison's " origin^Q sm," 182; bUl rejected, 184; later passed, 252. Yrujo, Marquis of Casa, Spanish minister, quarrels with Madison, 114 ; charged with attempts at bribery, 114 ; comments of Ran dolph on, 116. CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS, U. S. a. ELECTROTVPED AND PRINTED BY H. u. HOUGHTON AND CO. SK 1I#-' *< t