"I was defeated, horse, foot, and dragoons -cut up, clean broke down by the coalition of Blifil and Black George-by the combination unheard of till then, of the Puritan with the Blackleg." But, what was most pointed, perhaps, than anything else, in this assault upon Mr. Clay's honor, was Randolph's statement, "that a letter from General Salazar, the Mexican minister at Washington, submitted by the executive to the senate, bore the ear-mark of having been manufactured or forged by the secretary of state."

Mr. Clay smarted under the stigma of these charges. He demanded explanations. These being refused, Clay at once sent a challenge, which Randolph accepted. The seconds, however, chosen by the distinguished principals, determined to attempt an accommodation, or a peaceable termination of the difficulty. But Randolph, though modifying the unrevised and somewhat inaccurate report of his speech which had gone forth, refused to explain, out of the senate, the words he had used within it. Clay was peremptory with Randolph, on the point of honor, as he had also been with Humphrey Marshall, in 1808, whom the brilliant Kentuckian challenged and fought. Though bad enough, both personally and politically, these duels of the great Kentuckian will at least compare favorably with the later duel between Graves of Kentucky, and Cilley of Maine, in which Webb, the New York journalist, bore so prominent a part. It being certain that there was no hope of reconciliation, the seconds proceeded to arrange for the duel. The afternoon of Saturday, April eighth, 1826, was fixed upon for the time,-the right bank of the Potomac, within the state of Virginia, above the Little Falls bridge, was the place,-pistols the weapons, distance ten paces, each party to be attended by two seconds and a surgeon, and Senator Benton to be present as a mutual friend. There was to be no practicing with pistols, and there was none; and the words, 'One, two, three,-stop,' after the word 'Fire,' were, by agreement between the seconds

and for the humane purpose of reducing the result as near as possible to chance, to be given out in quick succession. The Virginia side of the Potomac was taken, according to Mr. Benton's account of the duel, at the instance of Mr. Randolph. He went out as a Virginia senator, refusing to compromise that character, and, if he fell in defense of what he deemed to be its rights, Virginia soil was to him the chosen ground to receive his blood. There was a statute of the state against dueling within her limits; but as he merely went out to receive a fire without returning it he deemed that no fighting, and consequently no breach of her statute.

The week's delay, which the seconds had contrived, was about expiring. It was Friday night, when Mr. Benton went to see Mr. Clay for the last time before the duel. There had been some alienation between the two since the time of the presidential election in the house of representatives, and the senator desired to show Mr. Clay that there was nothing personal in it. The family (says Mr. Benton) were in the parlor,-company present,― and some of it staid late. The youngest child went to sleep on the sofa,-a circumstance which availed me for the next day. Mrs. Clay was, as always after the death of her daughters, the picture of desolation, but calm, conversable, and without the slightest apparent consciousness of the impending event. When all were gone, and she also had left the parlor, I did what I came for, and said to Mr. Clay that, notwithstanding our late political differences, my personal feelings were the same towards him as formerly, and that, in whatever concerned his life or honor, my best wishes were with him. He expressed his gratification at the visit and the declaration, and said it was what he would have expected of me. We parted at midnight.

Mr. Benton's account continues as follows: Saturday, the 8th of April, 1826, the day for the duel,-had come, and almost the hour. It was noon, and the meeting was to take place at half-past four o'clock. I had gone to see Mr. Randolph

before the hour, and for a purpose. I had heard nothing from him on the point of not returning the fire, since the first communication to that effect, eight days before. I had no reason to doubt the steadiness of his determination; but felt a desire to have some fresh assurance of it after so many days' delay, and so near approach of the trying moment. I knew it would not do to ask him the question, any question that would imply a doubt of his word. So I fell upon a scheme to get at the inquiry without seeming to make it. I told him of my visit to Mrs. Clay the night before,-of the late sitting, the child asleep, the unconscious tranquillity

H Ceas

of Mrs. Clay; and added, I could not help reflecting how different all that might be the next night. He understood me perfectly, and immediately said, with a quietude of look and expression which seemed to rebuke an unworthy doubt,

"I shall do nothing to disturb the sleep of the child or the repose of the mother."

Mr. Randolph at the same time went on with his employment-his seconds

being engaged in their preparations in a different room,-which was, making codicils to his will, all in the way of remembrance to friends; the bequests slight in value, but invaluable in tenderness of feeling and beauty of expression, and always appropriate to the receiver. To Mr. Macon, he gave some English shillings, to keep the game when he played whist. His namesake, John Randolph Bryan, then at school in Baltimore, and afterwards married to his niece, was sent for to see him, but sent off before the hour for going out, to save the boy from a possible shock of seeing him brought back. He wanted some gold,-that coin not being then in circulation, and only to be obtained by favor or purchase, and sent his faithful man, Johnny, to the United States Branch Bank, to get a few pieces,American being the kind asked for. Johnny returned without the gold, and delivered the excuse that the bank had none. Instantly his clear silver-toned voice was heard above its natural pitch, exclaiming: "Their name is legion! and they are liars from the beginning. Johnny, bring me my horse." His own saddlehorse was brought him, for he never rode Johnny's, nor Johnny his, though both, and all his hundred horses, were of the finest English blood; and he rode off to the bank, down Pennsylvania avenue, Johnny following, as always, forty paces behind. Arrived at the bank, the following scene transpired. Mr. Randolph asked for the state of his account, was shown it, and found it to be some four thousand dollars in his favor. He asked for it. The teller took up packages of bills, and civilly asked in what sized notes he would have it. "I want money," said Mr. Randolph, putting emphasis on the word; and at that time it required a bold man to intimate that United States Bank notes were not money. The teller, beginning to understand him, and willing to make sure, said, inquiringly:

"You want silver?"

"I want my money," was the reply. "Have you a cart, Mr. Randolph, to

which he had formed not to fire at Mr.

On returning, Randolph handed a sealed paper to Mr. Benton, which the latter was to open in case Randolph was killed,— give back to him if he was not; also an open slip, which that senator was to read before he got to the ground. This slip was a request to feel in his left breeches' pocket, if he was killed, and find so many pieces of gold,-Mr. Benton to take three for himself, and give the same number to Tatnall and Hamilton each, to make seals to wear in remembrance of him. He also remembered his friend Macon. They were all three at Mr. Randolph's lodgings, then, and soon set out,-Mr. Randolph and his seconds in a carriage, and Mr. Benton following him on horseback.

As has already been stated, the count was to be quick after giving the word 'Fire,' and for a reason which could not be told to the principals. To Mr. Randolph, who did not mean to fire, and who, though agreeing to be shot at, had no desire to be hit, this rapidity of counting out the time, and quick arrival of the command 'Stop,' presented no objection. With Mr. Clay it was different. With him it was all a real transaction, and gave rise to some proposal for more deliberateness in counting off the time, which being communicated to Colonel Tatnall, (Randolph's friend,) and by him to Mr. Randolph, had an ill effect upon his feelings, and, aided by an untoward accident on the ground, unset

states, that, when he repeated to Mr. Clay the word' in the manner in which it would be given, Mr. Clay expressed some apprehension that, as he was not accustomed to the use of the pistol, he might not be able to fire within the time, and for that reason alone desired that it might be prolonged. This desire of Mr. Clay was mentioned, on his behalf, to Colonel Tatnall, who replied, "If you insist upon it, the time must be prolonged, but I should very much regret it." The original agreement was carried out. Mr. Benton, however, states that he himself knew nothing of all this, until it was too late to speak with the seconds or principals, he having crossed the Little Falls bridge just after them, and come to the place where the servants and carriages had stopped. He saw none of the gentlemen, and supposed they had all gone to the spot where the ground was being marked off; but on speaking to Johnny, Mr. Randolph, who was still in his carriage, and heard the voice, looked out from the window and said to Colonel Benton

"Colonel, since I saw you, and since I have been in this carriage, I have heard something which may make me change my determination. Colonel Hamilton will give you a note which will explain it."

Colonel Hamilton was then in the carriage, and in the course of the evening gave to Colonel Benton the note, of which Mr. Randolph spoke. Colonel Benton readily comprehended that this possible change of determination related to Randolph's firing; but the emphasis with which he pronounced the word 'may, clearly showed that his mind was undecided, and left it doubtful whether he would fire or not. No further conversation, however, took place between themthe preparations for the duel were finished -the parties went to their places.

The place was a thick forest, and the immediate spot a little depression, or basin, in which the parties stood. Not

far west of Bladensburg, just beyond the line which separates the federal city from the state of Maryland, a short distance off the road from Washington, is this duelingground, a dingle, embosomed in a sunburnt amphitheatre of trees, secluded, and from associations, no less than location, a dismal shrine, consecrated to human sacrifices. On this spot, not long before the battle of Bladensburg in the second war with England, a United States secretary of the treasury shot his antagonist, Mr. Gardenier, through the body, both members of congress, in a party duel. Decatur, surrounded by brother naval officers, fell there. A senator of the United States lost his life there, horribly fighting with muskets at pistol distance. Other victims to the vanity of honor, so called, have lost or staked their lives on this field of blood.

Their

The two were alike only in chivalry of bearing, integrity and independence of character, genius and pride. They had to all appearance met now to fight to the death with physical weapons, as they had met so often before, to do battle with the weapons of intellectual warfare. opposition had been unceasing. looked upon the other as, if not the ablest, at least as the most annoying and dreaded opponent of his political principles and personal aims. They were, in early life, and to some extent, still, representatives

Each

But never before, on that fatal field, was any scene enacted, comparable with that which was to witness a mortal contest between Henry Clay and John Randolph. Not too highly has the graphic delineator of these dramatis persona (Mr. Baldwin, in his "Party Leaders,") drawn the picture, in saying that there stood on the banks of the Potomac, on that bright April evening, as the sun was declining behind the high hills of Virginia, in the attitude of combatants, two men, around whom gathered, probably, a more stirring interest, than around any other two men in the Union. And yet, their political opinions and personal history were as opposite as their persons, when they stood in their places. Against any and all insinuations of corruption, Mr. Clay might safely have left his reputation with the people. His splendid services as peace commissioner to Europe, with such colleagues as Bayard, Gallatin, Russell and Adams; his long period of statesman-like service in the house of representatives, succeeding repeatedly to the chair that had been dignified by Muhlenberg, Trumbull, Dayton, Varnum, Cheves, and Barbour, this his record should have sufficed for his honor.

of different phases of American society. Randolph, born to affluence; descended from a long and honored line; accustomed always to wealth, family influence, and the pride of aristocracy and official position. Clay, on the other hand, born in obscurity, of humble parentage-the first man of his family known out of his county-"the mill-boy of the Slashes;" but winning his way and rising rapidly, by his boldness and talents, to the very summit of public station and influence, so as to be styled the "Great Commoner; "-these were the two men, alike in splendid gifts of intellect, yet so unlike in character and circumstance, who now, weapon in hand, stood opposed in deadly conflict.

As they took their stands, the princi