The first attempt to enforce the flag regulation in the case of a woman, in Tuscaloosa, was the last. Intrepid Ryland Randolph, editor of the _Monitor_, in uncontrollable indignation seized a sabre and in person challenged the responsible commander to mortal combat. Declining the proposed close encounter, that official thenceforward was more circumspect in his conduct. The story of Randolph's career is an interesting part of the history of Tuscaloosa. As an editor, he was belligerent, and relentless in his denunciation of radical maladministration of public affairs. So effective was his hostility that publication of his paper (official organ of the Ku Klux) was suppressed by military order. He accepted a challenge to a duel provoked by attacks upon the chief justice of the state supreme court, addressed to him by the judge's son-in-law; but on the field mutual friends effected an amicable and honorable settlement. A less dignified encounter involved him in more serious difficulties. Opposite the _Monitor_ office a number of negroes were assembled one day, and two of them assaulted a white man. Suddenly Randolph, with pistol and bowie-knife in hand, appeared in the midst of the struggling throng. One shot was fired by him, when he, in turn, became the object of attack. One of the assailants, a political leader, received in his side a thrust from Randolph's bowie, and another in the back, where the broken point of the knife remained. Within a few minutes the prostrate leader was the only one who remained on the scene. But the negroes, with augmented numbers, reassembled a short distance away. Randolph returned to his office and reappeared with a shotgun. His dauntless bearing discouraged further hostile demonstration by the blacks. In consequence of this affair, Randolph was arrested by the soldiers and taken to Montgomery for trial. En route, by stage-coach, he was made a spectacle for gloating negroes. He was acquitted, and his return was made an occasion of popular manifestation of esteem. A cavalcade met him some miles outside of Tuscaloosa, and on nearer approach to town was magnified into a vast procession of carriages and marchers, embracing men and women and school children. The procession moved to the sound of bells. A great meeting, with speechmaking, followed.