University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER VI.

IN digesting our notes of Mr. Randolph, we found that
the dark side increased rapidly, while we had comparatively
few data with which to build up the bright side.

One of his biographers dismisses the latter branch of his
subject in very short order. After enumerating all of his
bad qualities, he says: "We may be asked, were there no
virtues, no redeeming traits in the character of Mr. Randolph;
as a counterbalance to this long array of antagonistic
ones?" He is forced to admit "some of a negative kind,"
which he enumerates in less than a dozen lines.

We have been particular to note down every incident furnished
us by Mr. Randolph's old neighbors and acquaintances,
illustrating his good qualities, or mitigating the bad.
Our effort is to draw him as he was.

He is represented as being terribly repulsive to his foes;
but to his friends he was often gentle, kind and fascinating.
He did not always outrage the feelings of an opponent. We
find from the manuscript of Mr. Bouldin, that when Jerman
Baker was a rival candidate for Congress, he treated him
with great kindness and forbearance.

He was exceedingly cleanly in his habits, and dressed
with great neatness and care; and "the neatness of his

household affairs," says Mr. Bouldin, "was truly remarkable."
His table was furnished with food of the best quality, dressed
in the most palatable manner, and his cellar was furnished
with wine and other spirits of the finest description. His
economy in housekeeping was praiseworthy and remarkable.
And not only that, but his whole style of living was
creditable to him. For a long time he lived in a log house,
never in a fine one. He had no unnecessary furniture, but
what he had was, for the most part, of the best materials.

Those who were unacquainted with his real condition,
who saw only his visible effects—his large tracts of land and
his hundreds of negro slaves, were not in every instance
disposed to commend his economy. Doubtless there were
those who thought he ought to have built a fine dwelling,
and rivalled in hospitality and display his ancestors of Colonial
times. This is the reason why Mr. James W. Bouldin
remarked in his sketch of Mr. Randolph, that if his indebtedness
was generally known it was not generally borne in
mind by those who have spoken of him. Mr. W. B. Green,
in his recollections, states that he happened to know that he
was nearly always hard run for money, having himself been
under the disagreeable necessity of calling his attention to
the settlement of a small amount which had been due for
several years. He states that he was also acquainted with
other facts, in relation to his pecuniary affairs, which showed
a want of promptitude in the settlement of accounts. It is
true that he inherited a large and princely estate, by far the
largest in the county, yet it was under a heavy British mortgage.
Mr. Green states that this mortgage was not entirely
extinguished until after his mission to Russia. "The receipt
of salary and outfit," remarks Mr. Green, "enabled him to
pay all his debts and purchase the `Bushy Forest' estate."

To show how minutely attentive he was to his plantation

affairs, we will make an exact copy of a slip of paper in Mr.
Randolph's own hand-writing, which was found between the
leaves of one of his books, purchased at the auction sale of
his effects after his death:

Even these little memoranda, written in Mr. Randolph's
own hand-writing, point to several traits of character—his
attention to the details of business, his power to contract his
ample mind to the humblest duties of life. He also kept a
diary during the greater portion of his life, commencing his
first entries in youth. R. A. Brock, Esq., of Richmond, has
a copy of it, the original being in the possession of the
grand niece of Mr. Randolph, Mrs. Cynthia B. Coleman, of
Williamsburg, Va.

Mr. Randolph was a good master to his servants, as a
general rule. Though he occasionally flew out into violent
fits of rage against them, he was for the most part very kind
to them. He always provided well for their physicial, and
was not inattentive to their spiritual wants. His negroes
lived in fear of him, but they were bound to respect him.
There was something so lofty in the bearing of their master,
so brilliant and comprehensive in his genius, that, to their
humble minds, he appeared almost a God. His servants
were the best and politest in the county. One of his male
servants could have been invariably recognized by his taking
off his hat when he met a white man in the road; a female
servant would always make a courtesy. Mr. Randolph himself
never failed to speak to his field hands, and he knew the
names of all of them. His manner was to take off his hat
when he addressed his overseers. In his intercourse with
his neighbors, to whom he took a fancy, he was punctual in
performing all the offices of neighborly kindness.

The following circumstance will show that he knew how
to confer a great favor, and in the most becoming manner;
unlike some, who cancel in a measure the obligation by the
unhappy style of conferring it.

One of Mr. Randolph's young friends once went from
home leaving his crop in a very bad condition. It was in
great danger of being eaten up by the grass. To his great
surprise and relief, when he came home he found a large
number of plows and horses sweeping over his corn fields
at the grandest rate. He did not know what to make of it.
Having asked nobody for help, he was totally at a loss to
discover to whom he was indebted for such an unusual act
of kindness.

They were the hands of Mr. Randolph. The overseer
was told by him to watch the farming operations of his

young friend, and whenever he found that he needed assistance,
to render it without his asking.

Mr. Randolph's conversational powers impressed every
one that came within the sound of his voice. We shall not
soon forget the pleasant hour we spent with Mrs. Joseph M.
Daniel, the venerable wife of the witness in the will case,
whose testimony we shall place before the reader in another
chapter.

She informed us that Mr. Randolph used to visit her
house frequently, and that he made himself highly entertaining.
In the Summer time she said he frequently came
riding on horseback, dressed in white pantaloons, white flannel
coat, white vest, and white paper wrapped round his
beaver hat. He had the most ghostlike appearance of anything
she ever beheld. But as unprepossessing as was his
personal appearance, he could make himself perfectly fascinating
in his conversations, even upon the commonest
subjects. His transcendent genius, his wonderful powers
of description, his splendid imagination, seemed to create a
new interest in everything he touched. His pictures of the
objects constantly before her possessed a magical charm.
She saw beauties which she never saw before—new beauties
of form, soft notes, which had escaped her ear; and the
garments which failed to attract her attention, when drawn
by him, appeared rich and gorgeous as those of the bride
decked for the hymeneal alter.

Mrs. Daniel is a very old woman, and yet Mr. Randolph's
description of the mocking bird is fresh and bright in her
memory.

The following incident, related also by Mrs. Daniel, shows
that the heart of the man who was "nearly devoid of pity,"
and who too frequently trampled without scruple or remorse

upon the feelings of others, was softened by the artless attentions
of little children.

On one occasion, says Mrs. Daniel, while he was on a
visit to her house, one of her little girls went into the garden
and selected a bouquet of beautiful flowers, and presented
them to him. He seemed highly gratified: said "she had
chosen the old man for her valentine."

The next time he came over he brought the sweet little
girl some delicious fruit, saying—"Flowers produce fruit."

Sometime afterwards a member of the family visited the
solitary home of the recluse, and found the same bunch of
flowers, preserved in water, sitting upon his centre table.

We pass on now to the memoranda furnished us by
another of Mr. Randolph's old acquaintances, who told us
of the visit which a certain young gentleman frequently
made to Roanoke, and how "modest, pining merit" was
raised from despair, and a clouded eye given "a golden
hour."

It appeared that the gentleman alluded to was a young
man of good solid sense, but had no pretentions to genius.
He had commenced the study of one of the learned professions,
and with that modesty, which is of itself the sign of
merit, mistrusted his own abilities.

Mr. Randolph poured the oil of consolation into his
drooping breast, by assuring him that he had nothing to
fear; that all he had to do was to persevere; that he had
the right kind of talents to ensure success. He said that
"genius was not desirable; that it rendered the possessor
miserable," and pointed him to several men of his acquaintance,
who, without splendid abilities, had solely by industry
and perseverance succeeded well in their professions.

The young student invariably returned home from his
visits to his distinguished counsellor greatly encouraged,

and in due time the best hopes of himself and his friends
were realized.

Mr. Randolph was very respectful to ladies while in their
presence, though sometimes he would animadvert with sarcastic
bitterness on their foibles in his public speeches.

A young gentleman of considerable parts once met with
Mr. Randolph at the house of a friend. He was delighted
at his good fortune in having an opportunity of conversing
on political subjects with the famous Virginian orator and
statesman. But whenever he introduced the subject of politics,
Mr. Randolph, after politely answering any question
propounded to him, changed the conversation to something
else.

It was thought that he did it out of respect for the ladies
who were present; that he considered it out of taste to discuss
such matters in their presence.

Very handsomely done! A well merited rebuke!

That he did not respect as a lady every female dressed in
petticoats will sufficiently appear from the following anecdote.
The scene described was in the county of Charlotte,
and therefore comes appropriately under the head of home
reminiscences.

But we must first acquaint the reader with the fact, if he
be not already cognizant of it, that at one time, in the city
of Washington, resided a certain mischievous old woman
by the name of Royal. She edited, to the infinite vexation
of the officials in the city, a paper called "The Paul Pry,"
afterwards "The Huntress." The paper was sent without
solicitation to every member of Congress, and perhaps to
other high officials at the Capitol. But though he might
not have requested her to send the aforesaid paper, woe to
the member who went home without paying the subscription
price. He was first threatened with secretary "Sal;" and

if he still refused to pay, he was advertised in the paper, and
the number containing the advertisement was sent home to
the neighbors of the delinquent debtor.

One evening two members of Congress were walking arm
in arm up the streets of Washington, when they were suddenly
confronted by the redoubtable Mrs. Royal. She
began immediately addressing herself to one of them: "Sir,
I understand you have turned true blue Presbyterian and a
clock pedlar."

She had no sooner said this than the other member beat
a precipitate retreat, leaving his companion to extricate himself
as best he could.

The reader has some idea now of what sort of woman
Mrs. Royal was, and he has doubtless a curiosity to know
how Mr. Randolph would treat such a person if he should
meet her.

He was driving out one morning in his coach along the
public road near his house when he met the stage in which
Mr. John C. Calhoun happened to be traveling from the
South on his way to Congress. He ordered the driver to
stop that he might speak to the distinguished traveler.

The two great statesmen had no sooner recognized each
other than Mrs. Royal put her head out of the window, saying,
at the top of her voice, "Good morning, Mr. Randolph."

She had scarce uttered the salutation ere Mr. Randolph
clapped his fingers to his nose, and making a sound, which
indicated that he smelt an insufferable stench, told the driver
to drive on, and thus left Mr. Calhoun to reflect upon the
eccentric nature of the man of Roanoke.

The scene now changes, and our hero appears in a new
role. Again we select from the MSS. of Mr. Elliott, who
was living at the time that he generously donated them to

us, but who has since gone to that wide eternity, where all
at last must find a place. William H. Elliott was a genius,
and was the author of several pieces of poetry of great
merit—one, the "Cockiad," was not only published with
flattering notices in the newspapers of this country, but was
copied into the London periodicals.

But to return to our subject. In his "Schoolboy Reminiscences
of John Randolph," Mr. Elliott records an incident
which illustrates a peculiar phase in his character. He says:

There was a soft place in Mr. Randolph's heart. There is
in every one's.

He was telling Mr. Bouldin, one day, that he and his
brother went hunting, when they were boys, and found
where two little hares had been hanged by the neck. Mr.
Bouldin said he saw the tears suspended in the eye of Mr.
Randolph as he related to him this act of wanton cruelty.

The tenure of his friendship has been pronounced "too
frail to render it secure or ardent." He was certainly very
changeable, except in very rare instances. This is the case,
however, with nearly all dyspeptics. His friendship could
stand less opposition than any man's we ever heard of.
Where there was difference of opinion, his absolute spirit
almost invariably severed the tie. He assumed the dictator,

and all who opposed him were regarded as rebels to his
authority. He had but few friends who were not subservient
to him. One had to advance his interest and harmonize
with his opinions, or else be deprived of his favors.

Mr. Randolph's friendship, while it lasted, was indeed
valuable. The late Judge Thomas T. Bouldin, when he was
a young man, was called on one occasion to the discharge
of his professional duties in a strange place, where he was
but little known. Being required to give security on some
kind of bond, perhaps as trustee, he found some difficulty
in giving the required security. It reached the ears of his
distinguished friend, who raised his shrill voice above the
noise of the crowd, saying he would endorse for him.
Judge Bouldin said it at once lifted him out of his dilemma,
and placed him on a high elevation.

It is true that in after life his friendship was estranged;
but at the death of Mr. Randolph all was forgotten, except
the acts of kindness. Gratitude in the noble breast of the
recipient of such timely and efficient aid, caused him at that
sad hour "to cast every bitter remembrance away," and to
guard and protect with scrupulous care the remains of his
former friend.

While on a visit to Dr. Joel W. Watkins, of Charlotte, we
noticed a neat little frame suspended from his parlor wall.
It contained a paper in the hand-writing of John Randolph,
found among other papers after his death. It was an obituary
of the grandfather of the gentleman above named, and
as every stroke of the pen of Mr. Randolph is eyed by the
world with curiosity, we requested a copy of it, which was
kindly given. Nowhere had we ever seen what sort of
obituary he could write. The reader's curiosity shall be
gratified.

"On Sunday, the 2d of January, 1820, departed this life at

an advanced age, beloved, honored and lamented by all who
knew him, Colonel Joel Watkins, of the county of Charlotte,
and State of Virginia.

"Without shining abilities, or the advantages of education,
by plain and straight forward industry, under the guidance
of old-fashioned honesty and practical good sense, he accumulated
an ample fortune, in which it is firmly believed, by
all who knew him, there was not one dirty shilling.

"The fruits of his own labors he distributed with a promptitude
and liberality seldom equalled, never surpassed, in
suitable provision to his children at their entrance into life,
and on every deserving object of private benevolence or
public spirit, reserving to himself the means of a generous
but unostentatious hospitality.

"Nor was he liberal of his money only. His time, his
trouble, were never withheld on the bench, or in his neighborhood,
where they could be usefully employed.

"If, as we are assured, the peace-makers are blessed, who
shall feel stronger assurances of bliss than must have
smoothed this old man's passage to the unknown world?"

Gracefully, beautifully and truthfully done.

Dr. Johnson once said of Mr. Campbell that he "was a
good man, a pious man." He "was afraid he had not been
in the inside of a church for many years; but never passed
by a church without pulling off his hat; this showed he had
good principles."

If he made this remark of Mr. Campbell, who merely
pulled off his hat as he passed a church, what would the
Doctor have said of Mr. Randolph who stood up in the aisle
at Bethesda—once—the whole time that the Rev. Clement
Read was preaching, with his hat off, and who, when he
landed in London, went straightway to St. Paul's, and was
so earnest in his devotions as to attract universal attention.

He once rode up to a church where the congregation had
gathered, and services were about to begin. He dismounted,
tied his horse, went in, and selected a seat near the pulpit,
and was so exceedingly devout and solemn in his appearance,
that the minister invited him to take a seat with him in
the pulpit, which he politely declined to do, but knelt down,
however, during prayers, and preserved his gravity during
the whole time. When the services were concluded, he
mounted his horse and rode off. The eyes of the whole
congregation were upon him from first to last.

Mr. Randolph and the Rev. Dr. Rice had been speaking
at Charlotte Court-house nearly all day. A clergyman of
the Baptist denomination had attentively listened to them
during the whole time. That night he went home with a
brother minister: "Brother," said he, "did you hear the
speakers?" "Yes." "Well, brother, we ought to study our
sermons more."

It is not improbable that they preached better ever afterwards.

If Randolph and Henry had been born in the county of
Charlotte, our native county, we should have been proud of
the honor. As it is, we have in keeping their sacred remains.
But it was in the possession of these great men,
while living in their glorious prime, which was truly valuable.
In the case of Mr. Randolph, this priceless intellectual
jewel was possessed by the people of Charlotte for upwards
of twenty years. They could not claim Henry so
long, but still he remained in their midst a sufficient time to
sow the most precious seed.

Who knows how much the immortal Henry is indebted
for his eloquence to the inspirations of some divine who
stirred from its deep foundations his mighty genius? Who
knows but that the first and most powerful stimulus given

to the genius of Randolph was received when—a youth—he
stood behind the judges' seat and drank with rapturous delight
the words of Henry? And who can tell in the breasts
of how many youths the generous spirit of emulation was
roused and kept alive by the noble example of Randolph
constantly before their eyes.

The advantage to be derived to any community from having
among them for so long a time a man of such great
abilities and high sense of honor cannot be well calculated.
The words of this brilliant orator formed an important part
of the education of the people of Charlotte. Hundreds of
persons might say, in the language of the gifted William
H. Elliott, whose pleasing reminiscences we have already
quoted, that "they could not recollect the time when the
idea of John Randolph did not occupy a large space in their
minds; that his high position, his transcendent genius, his
fascinating manners and imposing presence all conspired to
render him in their views as prominent and necessary an
object in our human world as the sun in the solar system."
And more than one can say, that for all he possesses, which
is most valuable of the art of public speaking, he is indebted
to the orator of Roanoke.

Such was the curiosity which was attached to the memory
of Mr. Randolph, that every slip of paper in any way relating
to him was preserved by his old constituents as a precious
memorial.

The following letter from the Rev. Abner W. Clopton
was handed to us by the Rev. E. W. Roach, who found it
among some old books which he purchased at Mr. Randolph's
sale.

This Mr. Clopton was a minister of the Baptist church, a
man of fine abilities, great integrity and piety, and a friend
of Mr. Randolph. We were glad to be put in possession of
this memento. It brought to mind several incidents with regard
to our subject which might otherwise have been forgotten.
Among other things, it reminded us of how Mr. Randelph
used to deal with his negroes in a religious point of
view.

Mr. Randolph frequently employed ministers of the gospel
to preach to his negroes, and sometimes when the sermon
was over, he would make remarks himself.

He once invited the Rev. Mr. Clopton to pray for him.
Mr. Clopton began, but was soon arrested in his petitions.
"Stop, sir," said he, "if that is the way you are going to
pray, you must go into the garden or garret."

On another occasion he said, "Stop, sir, if you pray after
that manner God Almighty will damn us both."

For the following contribution, bearing upon the same
subject, we are indebted to the Rev. E. W. Roach, of Charlotte
county, Virginia, who received his information from the
Rev. A. W. Clopton. From the high standing of the witnesses,
the facts stated cannot be doubted.

What a strange compound is man! and the strangest of
men was John Randolph of Roanoke.

That is striking testimony which he gives in favor of the
Bible, but who can account for his sudden burst of passion
in the midst of a religious exhortation?

When he said, "I resolved to examine for myself, and
never to pin my faith to any other man's sleeve," he spoke
the truth. There never lived a man who was freer from
flunkyism, or of more personal independence.

If a jury of twelve of Mr. Randolph's old constituents
and neighbors were summoned to sit upon his conduct, with
a prosecutor sworn to do the accused justice, as well as the
commonwealth, it would be no bad method of getting at his
true character.

In drawing the outlines of a picture of our subject, we
were obliged to rely solely upon the observations of others.
Much to our sorrow, Mr. Randolph went out of the world a
little while after we came into it. Much to our sorrow we
say, because we would rather have laid our eyes upon him
than any man living or dead.

This being the case, we never failed, when the opportunity
presented, to ask one of his old countrymen what sort
of man he was. And though his character was said to be so
difficult, we always received a prompt and decided response.

In spite of all that has been stated of the delicacy of the task,
we found ourselves thinking that they really understood Mr.
Randolph better than they understood anybody else.

Not that there were no secret springs which they could
not see into; but his main points were so prominent. His
eye, his voice, his demeanor were more vividly impressed
upon them than any man's they had ever seen; and the distinctive
traits of his moral and intellectual character were
equally striking and prominent.

These pages contain opinions, formed not only from reading
his written life, but also from the conversations of those
who were well acquainted with him. Nor are they our
opinions alone, but also the opinions, for the most part, of
the witnesses, whose testimony we have weighed and placed
before our readers.

But we do not expect the jury to take our word for them,
for we have endeavored so to arrange it that our subject may
exhibit himself, that he may be seen himself.

Mr. Randolph was very much diseased in body. Many
allowances ought to be, and have been, made for him on that
account; for this reason we were anxious to have a physician
empannelled. We knew an old gentleman who, in his day,
was a distinguished physician, who was also a neighbor of
Mr. Randolph's.

This gentleman informed us that he used to say, "Mr.
Randolph was like the toad, who had a pearl in his head,
but poison in its bowels." But he afterwards had cause to
somewhat modify his opinion.

He said he could give a little incident, but he doubted
whether it would harmonize with what we had written. He
was aware of the harsh opinion of Mr. Randolph, which had
gone to the world; asked us if we had not made him all gall
and bitterness.

We told him we had drawn him quite bitter, but not more
so we thought than he deserved. Still we were anxious to
insert anything tending to mitigate that opinion. He said,
for the sake of truth, it would be gratifying to him to have
an interview, which he had with our distinguished subject,
published to the world. He thought it might give a better
opinion of his power of forgiveness. The facts might be
stated, and the unprejudiced reader would be enabled to
draw his own conclusion. They might sustain him or not in
his view.

Mr. Robert Carrington, a neighbor and personal enemy of
Mr. Randolph, applied to the county court of Charlotte for
the opening of a road through the plantation of the latter.
Viewers were appointed to decide upon the expediency of
establishing the road; a writ of ad quod damnum awarded,
and a jury of twelve freeholders of the vicinage impanneled.

When the said jury had met on the land of the proprietor
named in the writ, at the place and day specified, he, the proprietor,
made a long speech. While Mr. Randolph was
speaking, a quantity of provisions was brought by his servants
to the ground. The speaker informed the jury that he
had it prepared for them, thinking they would be fatigued
and hungry before they got through.

During his remarks, he took occasion to abuse the C.
family very much. Mr. C. would have attempted a reply,
but for the advice of a friend, who persuaded him he could
not contend with his antagonist on that arena. By the way,
Mr. C. was one of the few persons who was not afraid of Mr.
Randolph.

This is the occasion on which our old friend, the Doctor,
was present, and which gave rise to the interview to which
we just now alluded.

The Doctor was invited by Mr. C. to dinner, but declined.

He told him, however, that if his house was much further
than it really was, he would go cheerfully with him, provided
he could get him and Mr. Randolph to be good friends.

Mr. C. replied, if the difficulty could be honorably adjusted,
he would have no objection.

The conversation occurred in the presence of several of
Mr. Randolph's personal friends.

Some time after that, Mr. Randolph took rooms at Mr.
Wyatt Cardwell's hotel, at Charlotte Court-house. His
stomach was in such a delicate state, at that period of his
life, that he could not digest the fare he met with abroad,
and he brought snacks with him from home generally, when
he put up at the hotel aforesaid.

One day he sent his servant down to the Doctor's for
some of his sweet potatoes; said he preferred the small
ones, that they were sweeter.

The Doctor had his basket filled with such as he liked,
but on the top placed a very large one. Mr. Randolph was
highly delighted with the big potato; called it a real "negro
potato."

The next time the invalid saw the Doctor, which was at
Charlotte Court-house, he invited him to his room, doubtless,
to thank him for his nice present.

During this visit, the Doctor took occasion to say to his
distinguished host that, in his recent speech, he had given
utterance to a sentiment which he admired exceedingly.

"And what is that, sir?"

"You observed that the forgiveness of an enemy was the
highest attainment of moral virtue."

"But you recollect I said I had not attained it."

"Mr. Randolph from that went on to remark how magnanimous
it was to forgive an enemy; giving a most beautiful
lecture, equal to old Dr. Hoge in his best days."

And this accords with the testimony of a truly devout old
lady, who lived within a few miles of that singular man.
She avers she never heard such a beautiful and pathetic
discourse on the subject of religion in all her life as he delivered
on one occasion at her house. The impression was
made upon her mind that he must be a Christian.

But to return to our narrative:

The Doctor told him he should like to have a practical
illustration of what he had said.

Was he willing to make up the difficulty between himself
and Mr. C?

"With all my soul, sir," replied he, without a moment's
reflection.

His expression of countenance, and the promptness with
which he met the proposal, induced his companion to believe
he was entirely sincere.

High hopes were entertained of establishing friendly relations
between them.

A flag of truce, as it were, had been agreed upon by both
belligerents.

When the peacemaker informed a friend on the street of
what he had done, that friend was greatly astonished, and
would not believe it. Was Mr. Randolph ever known to
settle a difficulty in that way? he inquired; and, like the
doubting Thomas, he must see before he believed.

But the difficulty was settled, and the matter taken out of
court.

We have thus laid before the inquisitive reader the anecdote
of our old particular friend, which he said he wanted to
go in in mitigation of the character of his great fellow-man.
He admitted that he was "full of subtlety" (that was his expression).
Nor did he maintain that he was of a forgiving

temper, but merely thought that too much bitterness had
been given to it.

The foregoing incidents were related to us by Dr. Isaac
Read, of Charlotte county, Virginia, who lived to be 92
years of age; but his testimony was taken twelve years before
his death.

We purpose to give another proof that Mr. Randolph was
not all gall; but this time we shall have to draw upon what
has already been published.

The following is an extract from a letter of his to his
nephew, Dr. Theodorick Dudley, published in 1834, selected
from a mass of others of the same tone. The Mr. Curd
spoken of was his overseer.