Randolph Scott remains one of Hollywood’s most iconic figures in the classic Western genre.

Known for his stoic, honorable characters and quiet dignity, Scott embodied a moral code that resonated deeply with audiences during the golden age of Western films.

Yet behind the scenes, this refined Southern gentleman harbored a deep and lasting dislike for fellow Western legend John Wayne—a feud rooted in stark differences of personality, values, and artistic philosophy.

Born George Randolph Scott on January 23, 1898, in Orange County, Virginia, Scott grew up in Charlotte, North Carolina, in a large, genteel Southern family that valued discipline, education, and integrity.

His father was a respected textile executive, and his mother was known for her refinement.

Scott was the second of seven children and attended private schools before enrolling at Georgia Institute of Technology and later the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

Initially, he planned to follow his father’s footsteps in business or engineering. However, after serving with distinction as an artillery officer in France during World War I, Scott’s path took a dramatic turn.

 

In the early 1920s, while visiting California, Scott became captivated by the burgeoning film industry. His tall, athletic build, striking features, and Southern charm quickly caught the attention of casting directors.

He began his acting career humbly, working as an extra and stuntman before landing small speaking roles.

His early years in Hollywood were marked by perseverance and humility, qualities that set him apart from many contemporaries.

By the late 1920s, Scott had found steady work and transitioned successfully into talking pictures, where his deep, resonant voice gave him a commanding presence.

Throughout the 1930s and 1940s, Scott appeared in a variety of genres, but it was the Western that made him a legend.

Films like *The Last of the Mohicans* (1936), *Western Union* (1941), and *The Desperado* (1943) solidified his status as the quintessential Western hero—stoic, honorable, and unyielding.

Scott’s characters were often men of strong moral conviction, embodying decency and courage in the face of adversity. This on-screen persona reflected his real-life demeanor.

Unlike many Hollywood stars who succumbed to excess, Scott was professional, quiet, and dedicated to his craft.

 

His collaboration with director Budd Boetticher in the 1950s produced some of the finest Westerns ever made, including *Seven Men from Now* (1956), *Ride Lonesome* (1959), and *Comanche Station* (1960).

These films portrayed Scott as a man haunted by past regrets yet guided by an unshakable moral compass.

Scott’s influence extended to his final film, *Ride the High Country* (1962), directed by Sam Peckinpah.

In it, he played an aging lawman struggling to uphold his principles in a changing world—a role mirroring his own graceful exit from Hollywood.

After retiring, Scott invested wisely in real estate and business ventures, becoming one of the wealthiest actors of his era.

Despite his financial success, he remained modest and focused on family and faith.

Scott married twice, and each marriage revealed different facets of his personality. In 1936, he wed Arys Marian Dupont, a woman from the prestigious Dupont family, one of America’s most powerful industrial dynasties.

Marian was an accomplished equestrian and horse breeder who owned Montpelier, the historic Virginia estate once home to President James Madison.

Before marrying Scott, Marian had been wed to Virginia sportsman George Somerville, with Scott serving as best man at their wedding—a connection that added an unusual twist to their later relationship.

 

Despite the glamour surrounding their union, their marriage was short-lived.

Scott was focused on his Hollywood career in California, while Marian was deeply rooted in equestrian pursuits on the East Coast. The couple lived apart much of the time and divorced amicably in 1939.

Marian retained the name Marian Dupont Scott until her death in 1983, reflecting a lasting respect or public identity tied to Scott’s name.

 

After several years of bachelorhood, Scott found lasting happiness with his second wife, Patricia Stillman, whom he married in 1944.

Patricia, 21 years his junior and a former actress, devoted herself to family life after marriage.

Their relationship was marked by genuine affection and shared values, contrasting with Scott’s earlier socially strategic marriage. The couple adopted two children, Sandra and Christopher, in 1950.

Friends described Scott as a devoted and gentle father, and his family life was free from scandal—a rarity in Hollywood.

Randolph and Patricia’s marriage lasted over four decades until his death in 1987, forming one of Hollywood’s quieter success stories.

 

In the world of Hollywood Westerns, few figures loomed as large as Randolph Scott and John Wayne.

Both were towering icons of rugged masculinity, but their relationship was far from friendly.

While fans assumed mutual respect between two stars of similar stature, Scott harbored a deep dislike for Wayne.

Their differences went beyond professional rivalry, rooted instead in personality, values, and artistic vision.

 

Scott was a refined Southern gentleman, known for restraint and dignity. His acting style was measured and quietly powerful, relying on subtlety rather than spectacle.

John Wayne, by contrast, was boisterous, loud, and commanding—a showman who thrived on bravado.

Scott once bluntly said, “I never cared for the man. He represented everything in Hollywood I didn’t admire.”

He viewed Wayne’s brand of heroism as theatrical and exaggerated, a product of Hollywood mythmaking rather than disciplined storytelling. To Scott, Wayne was more focused on image than integrity.

 

Their professional paths crossed occasionally, but there was no direct rivalry on screen.

The studios often tried to pit them against each other at the box office, but Scott believed they were “playing two different games.” Scott’s films carried moral subtlety and internal struggle, while Wayne’s thrived on spectacle and patriotic fervor.

Scott found Wayne’s approach shallow, saying, “I played men who questioned their choices. Wayne played men who never questioned anything.”

 

Beyond artistic disagreements, their personalities clashed. Scott was calm and gentlemanly, rarely boasting, while Wayne was loud, politically outspoken, and confident.

Wayne’s conservative views and frequent discussions of politics and war irritated Scott, who disliked glorifying such topics in saloons or on sets.

 

Scott also resented Wayne’s avoidance of military service during World War II, viewing it as hypocrisy.

“I didn’t judge men who stayed home,” Scott said, “but I couldn’t stomach those who pretended to fight wars on screen after refusing to serve in one.

” To Scott, this contradiction defined Wayne’s character as a man more concerned with appearances than principles.

Their encounters were often tense, ending in silence or cutting remarks. Wayne once insulted Scott by saying he was “too pretty to play a real cowboy,” a slight Scott never forgot.

Even in social settings, Scott would leave if Wayne arrived, and mutual acquaintances were careful not to praise one in front of the other.

 

Despite his disdain, Scott never publicly attacked Wayne or sought to tarnish his legacy. “I respected his success,” Scott admitted, “but I never respected the man.

” Their silent feud became part of Hollywood folklore, highlighting two very different approaches to the Western hero archetype.

 

Randolph Scott died in 1987 at the age of 89 from heart and lung ailments. He was buried alongside his wife Patricia in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Their papers, including photos, letters, and memorabilia, were donated to UCLA’s special collections.

Scott’s legacy endures through his films, which continue to be celebrated for their moral complexity and quiet dignity.

His life and career stand as a testament to craftsmanship and integrity that sharply contrasted with the brash showmanship of his era—and with John Wayne himself.

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