The herald and news. [volume] (Newberry S.C.) 1903-1937, 1921-07-08
STORIES OF OUR SOUTHLAND
James r. Randall, Author of
Maryland, My Maryland
Larry Gantt's Weekly Letter

famous Confederate war song, "Mary-
land, My Maryland" was my personal
friend and l knew him long and init
mately. He was employed on the
Augusta (Ga.) Chronicle. when l was
doing some special work for that pa
per. He visited me at my home when
was managing the campaign of Col.
James M. Smith, when he was in the
race for Governor of Georgia. Ran
dali came to Colonel Smiths farm
home and assisted me in preparing my
campaign literature.
Among his literary productions was
a poem, "Marse Jim," depicting the
loyalty and de tion of Colonel
Smiths thousand or more negro en-
ployees and which was real gem,
ranking with Randall's best produc-
. tions. But, as Smiths political enc
mics 1bitterest among them Tenn Wat
SOM, were depicting him as slave
driver, / thought it not a good policy
to publish it, and after the contest
returned the manuscript to Randall.
Randall was a handsome man, with
clear-cut features and an eagle-like
eye. His person and bearing would
attract attention in any crowd. A
more polished Southern gentleman /
never met. His face, his every move
ment showed his descent from the
Catholic nobility of England who
came over with Lord Baltimore to set
tie the province of Maryland, hence
his love and devotion to his native
state and which his ancestors had
helped to create. For Randall was a
rigid Roman Catholic. He once told
me that he considered Ignatius 10y
ola, founder of the Jesuits, the great
est man and organizer the world ever
knew.
Randall had charming and accom-
.plished wife and beautiful little
daughter and he was devoted to his
family. He had hopeful sunny dis
position, and the only cloud l ever
saw cross his brow was when at times
he would talk to me about not being
able to provide for his family as they
should be cared for, and how he had
to sell his talent and his pen for a
paltry $50 per week and when he had
racked his brain to prepare an editor
ial or article of unusual merit his
employer would claim for himself the
authorship and usurp the praise and
honors. For James R. Randall, like
unto Robert Burns, Edgar Allen Poe,
John Howard Paine and many other
world-famous writer's, was always
hard run and literally lived from
hand to mouth. Every dollar he earn
ed was by day and night grind at
some editorial desk for the wages
paid mechanic. While bands were
playing and crowds applauding his
maryland, My Maryland the au-
thor of that inspiring Southern song
was perhaps walking the streets with
out dollar in his pocket and racking
shis brain about some overdue press
ing bill.
Randall had friends who would have
assisted him, but they knew his proud
and chivalrous nature and that any
proffer they made bearing the least
taint of charity would deeply wound
his sensitive heart. He would never
accept a favor unless he could return
it or repay It in some way.
AS fnancier and business man
Randall was stupendous failure. The
only thing he knew about money was
how to spend it.
When Noble built the new mining
town of Admission, Alabama, daily
paper, "The Iron Age" was started
there Knowing Randall's fame, the
company thought it ten-strike when
they put him in full charge. But coal
and pig iron and poetry and literature
don't mix worth cent. The paper
failed, and Randall went to work on
the Catholic World, of Baltimore,
where his religious faith and religious
talent beautifully blended and were
appreciated.
To his intimate friends Randall
was most genial and delightful COM
panion. When 1 found him in a de-
spondent mood l soon learned how to
dispel the gloom and the cloud upon
his face as mist before the sun rays.
Randall was a great epicure and
nothing delighted him more than a
well-prepared meal; but he always