Yet in many respects the most interesting figure in the party was Henry Clay. He was born amid the swamps of Hanover County, Va., and had grown up in most adverse surroundings. His father, a Baptist clergyman, died while he was an infant, leaving him destitute. In "The Slashes," as the neighborhood where Clay passed his childhood was called, he might often have been seen astride a sorry horse with a rope bridle and no saddle, carrying his bag of grain to the mill. He had attended only district schools. After obtaining the rudiments of a legal education in Richmond by service as a lawyer's clerk, he removed to Kentucky. He was soon famous as a criminal lawyer, and a little later as a politician. The rest of his life was spent in Congress or cabinet. Clay's speeches read ill, but were powerful in their delivery. He spoke directly to the heart. As he proceeded, his tall and awkward form swayed with passion. His voice was sweet and winsome. Once Tom Marshall was to face him in joint debate over a salary grab for which Clay had voted. Clay had the first word, and as he warmed to his work Marshall slunk away through the crowd in despair. "Come back," said Clay's haters to him; "you can answer every point." "Of course," replied Marshall, "but I can't get up there and do it now." The common people shouted for Clay as they shouted for neither Webster nor Adams. He had infinite fund of anecdote, remembered everyone he had ever seen, and was kindly to all. John Tyler is said to have wept when Clay failed of the Presidential nomination in the Whig Convention of 1839. [1840] Clay's vices and inconsistencies were readily forgiven. He had denounced duelling as barbarous, yet when sharp-tongued John Randolph referred to him and Adams as having, in 1825, formed "the coalition of Blifil and Black George, the combination of the Puritan and the blackleg"--for Clay gambled--Clay challenged him. They met, the diminutive Randolph being in his dressing-gown. Neither was hurt, as Randolph fired in air and Clay was no shot. Being asked why he did not kill Randolph, Clay said: "I aimed at the part of his gown where I thought he was, but when the bullet got there he had moved." In 1842, when Lord Ashburton was in Washington, there was a famous whist game, my lord, with Mr. Crittenden, playing against Clay and the Russian Minister, Count Bodisco, while Webster looked on. "What shall the stake be?" asked his lordship. "Out of deference to Her Majesty," said Clay, "we will make it a sovereign." [Illustration: Portrait.] John Randolph. From a picture by Jarvis in 1811, at the New York Historical Society.