p,
rich Oriental tint which never seems to fade, all of which
made her the most beautiful and attractive woman of her
age."

She was a wife at sixteen, and at twenty-six a widow. Three years
after the death of her husband, she married St. George Tucker, of
Bermuda who proved to be a kind father to her children.

In the winter of 1781, Benedict Arnold, the traitor who had spread
ruin through his native state, was sent to Virginia on an expedition
of ravage. He landed at the mouth of the James, and advanced toward
Petersburg. Matoax, Randolph's home, was directly in the line of the
invading army, so the family set out on a cold January morning, and at
night entered the home of Benjamin Ward, Jr.

John Randolph was seven years old, and little Maria Ward had just
passed her fifth birthday. The two children played together happily,
and in the boy's heart was sown the seed of that grand passion which
dominated his life.

After a few days, the family went on to Bizarre, a large estate on
both sides of the Appomattox, and here Mrs. Tucker and her sons spent
the remainder of the year, while her husband joined General Greene's
army, and afterward, the force of Lafayette.

In 1788, John Randolph's mother died, and his first grief swept over
him in an overwhelming torrent. The boy of fifteen spent bitter
nights, his face buried in the grass, sobbing over his mother's grave.
Years afterward, he wrote to a friend, "I am a fatalist. I am all but
friendless. Only one human being ever knew me. _She_ only knew me."

He kept his mother's portrait always in his room, and enshrined her in
loving remembrance in his heart. He had never seen his father's face
to remember it distinctly, and for a long time he wore his miniature
in his bosom. In 1796, his brother Richard died, and the unexpected
blow crushed him to earth. More than thirty years afterward he wrote
to his half-brother, Henry St. George Tucker, the following note:

"DEAR HENRY

"Our poor brother Richard was born in 1770. He would have
been fifty-six years old the ninth of this month. I can no
more.

"J. R. OF R."

At some time in his early manhood he came into close relationship with
Maria Ward. She had been an attractive child, and had grown into a
woman so beautiful that Lafayette said her equal could not be found in
North America. Her hair was auburn, and hung in curls around her face;
her skin was exquisitely