John Randolph | ||
FAREWELL TO HENRY CLAY.
Despite their political animosities, from the time of the
duel, in which they both conducted themselves with generous
spirit, each had a real admiration for the other.
A few days before his death, when it seemed that any minute
might be his last, he was borne into the Senate chamber,
and took a seat in the rear of Mr. Clay, who, at the time of
his entrance, was addressing that body.
"Raise me up," said Randolph, "I want to hear that voice
again."
When Mr. Clay had concluded his brief remarks, he turned
around to see who had made the request in such a touching
voice.
Recognizing the dying man, he left his place to speak to
up."
Mr. Clay offered his hand and with a sympathetic voice
said, "Mr. Randolph, I hope you are better, sir."
"No, sir," replied Randolph, "I am a dying man, and I
came here expressly to have this interview with you."
They grasped hands and parted forever, each understanding
that soul to soul they were acknowledged friends.
John Randolph | ||