 | John Randolph |  |
DEFIANT RETIREMENT FROM CONGRESS.
With all his frail physique, it is doubtful whether John
Randolph knew the meaning of the fear of man. An illustration
of this exemption is given in his congressional campaign
of 1813, when, after a service of fourteen years, he was
defeated by the administration leader, John W. Eppes. They
were friends in youth and rival leaders in Congress, the canvass
of 1813 being especially animated.
In Buckingham Mr. Randolph, who had become unpopular
on account of his opposition to the war with England, was
threatened with personal violence if he attempted to address
the people. Some of his supporters advised him against the
attempt.
"You know very little of me," said he, "or you would not
give such advice."
Posters were accordingly put out that he would address
the people, and a large crowd gathered, the outskirts being
black with sullen faces.
Mr. Randolph, mounting the hustings, commenced: "I
understand that I am to be insulted to-day if I attempt to address
the people—that a mob is prepared to lay its rude hands
upon me and drag me from these hustings, for daring to exercise
the right of a freeman." Then fixing his keen eyes on
forefinger at the malcontents, he continued: "My Bible
teaches me that the fear of God is the beginning of Wisdom,
but that the fear of man is the consummation of folly." He
then proceeded to address that part of the audience which
had come to listen to him. But notwithstanding his eloquence
and the fact that he was strong in the Charlotte district,
the outside counties retired him from public life.
Shortly before the election his residence at Bizarre was
burned, and he lost, as he says, "a valuable collection of
books—a whole body of infidelity, the Encyclopedia of Diderot
and D'Alembert, Voltaire's works (seventy volumes),
Rousseau (thirteen quartos), Hume, etc., etc." He thereupon
removed to his Roanoke estate, forty miles south, and
retired to a solitude, almost unbroken save for the presence
of young Dudley, his adopted relative, and the letters which
he received from his friends, Dr. John Brockenbrough and
Francis S. Key.
In his correspondence from Roanoke he often gave vent to
his bitter feelings against politicians and his utter disgust of
public life and its surroundings, as witness: "I had taken so
strong a disgust against public business, conducted as it has
been for years past, that I doubt my fitness for the situation
from which I have been dismissed. The House of R was as
odious to me as ever school-room was to a truant boy. To be
under the dominion of such wretches as (with a few exceptions)
composed the majority, was intolerably irksome to my
feelings; and, although my present situation is far from enviable,
I feel the value of the exchange. To-day (May 22),
for the first time, we have warm weather; and as I enjoy the
seen, I think with loathing of that compound of villainous
smells which at all times inhale through the H. of R., but
which in a summer session are absolutely pestilential."
It was here, from the solitude of Roanoke, that Randolph
gave frequent vent to his longings for a religious life and his
perception of his own shortcomings, and the conflict within
him to suppress his bitterness—to be charitable and forgiving
and yet live among men, with all their deceit and uncharitableness—was
pitiful in the extreme. And yet, after moving
in a circle, feeling the necessity for a new life, and having
the longing for it, his nervous, rebellious nature would reassert
itself, his unworthiness would again come uppermost
and despair would take the place of hope; then he would
canvass his world and find only three really good happy men
in it—Bishop Meade, of Virginia; Dr. Moses Hogue, president
of Hampden Sydney College, and Francis S. Key.
"I am more and more convinced," he cries, "that, with a
few exceptions, this world of ours is a vast mad-house. The
only men I ever knew well, ever approached closely, whom I
did not discover to be unhappy, are sincere believers of the
Gospel and conform their lives, as far as the nature of man
can permit, to its precepts. There are only three of them."
According to his own statement, this conflict within him
lasted for nine long years before he was able conscientiously
to announce his conversion to his friends.
| John Randolph | |