person, whose winning address, whose uncommon abilities, which were
associated with industry and perseverance quite as uncommon, and whose
glowing patriotism, would have made an impression in any country and in
any age, and gained distinction in any sphere. Under such a portrait the
name of one man only can be written--that of ROBERT BARRAUD TAYLOR.
Young Taylor was eleven months older than Tazewell, was born in
Smithfield, attended in Norfolk the school of that elegant scholar, the
late Dr. Alexander Whitehead, became a student of William and Mary
College, where he remained till his duel with John Randolph, in which he
received a ball that he carried to his grave; studied law with Judge
Marshall, and in 1796, at the age of twenty-two, engaged in the practice
of the law in this city. His fine talents attracted universal attention,
and business crowded upon him. His voice, action, eloquence, were all in
fine harmony. As the district court system was then in operation, he had
an opportunity of witnessing the displays of the leading counsel of the
state in the neighboring town of Suffolk; and it was the dictate alike
of interest and ambition to prepare himself for the conflict with his
ablest contemporaries. Politics were the order of the day; and they soon
engaged the attention of young Taylor. I heard many years ago, that when
he came to the bar, and some time afterwards, he sided with his college
mates Tazewell, Randolph, Cabell, Thompson, and James Barbour, and
hailed with rapture the progress of the French revolution; but, shocked
by the barbarities which disgraced the later stages of that moral and
political maelstrom, and indignant at the unprecedented conduct of the
diplomatic agents of France in our own country, he determined to
separate from his early friends, and to uphold with all his influence
the administration of Washington and that of his successor. It is said
that he read with unmixed feelings of admiration and delight the
Reflections of Burke on the French Revolution, which had appeared about
six years before; and, if that work vanquished his early love of France,
he may be said at least to have fallen by a noble hand. At such a crisis
of foreign and domestic affairs, it was impossible that a young man with
such powers of eloquence and such fearlessness of spirit should be
allowed to remain at home, while all his old associates, and the oldest
and ablest politicians of the state were about to assemble in Richmond,
and to battle for the victory. He was accordingly returned, in 1799, by
the Borough of Norfolk to the House of Delegates, on the floor of which
the contest was to be decided. At the session of the previous year, the
Assembly had passed the celebrated resolutions of John Taylor of
Caroline, long since known to have been written by Mr. Madison, which
had been sent to the several states. The leading object of the present
session was to refer the answers of the states to a committee, and to
report an argument in defence of the resolutions of the previous year.
The report, since so well known as the Report of '99, or the Virginia
Report, drawn by Madison, was the consequence. When it was presented to
the House of Delegates, it was discussed by the prominent men of both
parties with eminent ability. Young Taylor performed his part with his
usual zeal and force, and, by the side of his illustrious namesake,
George Keith Taylor, opposed the adoption of the Report, which
prevailed, however, by a decided majority. He also sustained Mr. Adams
for the presidency in preference to Mr. Jefferson; and, when Mr.
Jefferson was elected, he opposed his administration up to 1802, when
Tazewell came to reside in Norfolk. Though opposed then, and as long as
he lived, to the party which, with few and short intermissions, has
controlled, from 1789 to the present day, the political action of the
state, his devotion to our blessed mother was as pure and as ardent as
was ever felt by any son who drew nurture from her bosom; and he was as
prompt to avenge her wrongs as to assert her rights--at once a
D'Aguessau in the forum and a Bayard in the field. Nor was that
affection unreturned. When the clouds of war were gathering round her,
Virginia entrusted her safety and her honor to his sword; and when the
returning light of peace shone upon her hills and valleys and over the
green savannahs of the East, and he had withdrawn from the arena of his
splendid fame, she invested him with her ermine, which he wore with
becoming grace to his dying hour; and she stood in tears at his tomb.
In this young man, Tazewell was to find an intimate friend, a fit, an
able, and a lifelong competitor. They were nearly of the same age: they
had been classmates in College, and had been in the Assembly together;
and while Tazewell was studying law in Mr. Wickham's office in Richmond,
Taylor was following suit a few doors off in the office of Gen.
Marshall. Even on the score of physical beauty they were not unmatched.
Though belonging to different models, each in his sphere was, in youth,
in middle life, and in old age, among the finest looking men of their
generation. Sometimes the aspect of Taylor was magnificent. I saw him
one afternoon thirty years ago as he was returning from the court in
Portsmouth. He was passing from Toy and King's corner to Hall's. The
waves of recent debate were sweltering in his breast. His person was
erect; his gait was rapid; with one hand he held his cloak in a graceful
fold, and with the other he grasped his ivory curule staff. I thought of
Cicero hastening up the Capitoline hill to announce in the forum the
death of Catiline on the Picenian plain and the slaughter of the
traitor's band.
There were, however, some differences between them, which, or some of
which, observable at first, grew more distinct in the lapse of years, in
their places of nativity, in their temperaments, in their intellectual
traits, and in their politics. Both were partly of Gallic descent; but
here they differed as in other things. Tazewell was French on the
father's side; Taylor on the mother's. Tazewell's ancestors were from
that city on the banks of the Seine in which the piratical Northmen had
dwelt, which they had made the capital of a warlike empire extorted from
one of the drivelling descendants of Charlemagne, and which they had
called by the defiant title of Normandy. Taylor's ancestors belonged to
that pious and not less heroic race, which, under the name of
Huguenots, battled, not for rapine and conquest, but for the rights of
conscience and for a large public liberty, and which, though defeated
and driven from their ancestral land, the beautiful land of the fig, the
olive, and the vine, to the chalky shores of old England, were more than
triumphant in the virtue of their cause. The music familiar to the ears
of Tazewell's ancestors was the wind from the boisterous North Sea and
the turbulent Bay of Biscay; while Taylor's forefathers were refreshed
by the gentle gales of Araby blown across the blue Mediterranean to the
banks of the Rhone. The blood of both had been strongly mixed with the
blood of that Anglo-Saxon race, which, crushed at times, and even for
centuries, was apt to rise again, and build its fortresses to freedom
out of the ruins of the very temples of its oppressors.
Tazewell was born on the north side of the James, Taylor on the south--a
distinction of no little significance in Virginia politics to this very
hour. Tazewell, insensibly imitating those grave old rovers of the sea
whom he counted among his kin, was, even under great provocation, cool
and wary, and only the more dangerous; Taylor, whose southern blood
coursed in torrents of fire through his veins, though at times in the
highest degree self-poised and calm, had less command of his temper, and
showed more plainly the smart of the hostile shaft; and, though prompt
as lightning to return it, did not always send it back to the enemy as
steadily as he might have done with more deliberation. Their modes of
reasoning differed as widely as their temperaments. Each was a supreme
master of reasoning in his respective department; and, if we look along
their entire course at the bar, it is hard to say which of the two won
the most verdicts. Perhaps, though both of these able men wielded at
times an almost omnipotent sway over juries and over the bench; yet it
may be said that the style of Tazewell was more decisive with the court,
and that of Taylor with the jury. Each seemed necessary to the greatness
of the other; and it is probable that, if Tazewell had not been
constantly pressed throughout his career by such a man as Taylor, he
would never have made those wonderful displays before a jury and in
popular assemblies which form no small part of his fame; and that
Taylor, unless checked by the severe logic of Tazewell, would, indeed,
have been, as he was, the great advocate of his time, but would have
failed to acquire that reputation for profound ability and learning in
the law, which no less a judge than Marshall acknowledged in terms of
high commendation. In a strictly legal point of view, it would have been
best that both these able men had been removed in early life from the
deteriorating influence of inferior courts, and transferred to a higher
sphere. Had they gone together to New York, and had been compelled to
follow their cases through the highest courts as well as the lowest, or
had confined themselves to appellate tribunals, they would in their
daily efforts have reared a legal reputation coextensive with the Union,
and, perhaps, more durable. It is only necessary to state that Taylor
remained at the bar ten years after the retirement of Tazewell; that he
was then called upon to preside in the courts in which he had reaped his
brilliant fame; that, when a long and honored judicial career seemed to
stretch before him, he was snatched away at the comparatively early age
of sixty; and that Tazewell survived him more than a quarter of a
century.[4]
Before we leave the Court-room of 1802, glancing, as we pass, at the
face of young Maxwell, then just returned from Yale, who four years
later was to make a name for himself, and of Arthur and Richard Henry
Lee, brothers, whose sparkling eloquence ruled the fierce democracy of
the day, and bespoke its ancestral source, and of others who were about
to step on the threshold of professional life, the young man, sitting at
the clerk's table, and intent upon his work, raising now and then his
dark chestnut eyes to the Counsel or to the Court, his jet black hair
curling about his tall forehead, his erect port telling of the military
exercises in which he so much delighted and excelled, seems, in vision,
to rise before me. Born in Henrico, within a stone's throw of the
birthplace of Henry Clay, who was his intimate personal friend and
colleague in the clerk's office under Peter Tinsley,--the county-man and
colleague also of our late esteemed fellow-citizen, Thomas Williamson,
another pupil of Tinsley,--he had performed such faithful service in the
General Court, that at the age of twenty-four, he was chosen, in May of
the preceding year, the clerk of the Norfolk Courts. His skill in his
business, the industry and integrity that shone in all his paths, his
cordial and polished manners, his martial spirit, which approached
something too near "an appetite for danger," but which was finely
tempered to the social sphere, conciliated the public esteem; and, while
he acquired the reputation of the readiest and the ablest clerk of his
day, he became, during the excited period from 1802 to 1815, when war
with Spain, with France, with England, was the order and the trouble of
the day, one of the most complete soldiers of our citizen corps. Leaning
to the federal side in politics, he, like the gallant Taylor, knew no
party when the sword was to be drawn. At the early age of twenty-five he
was made Colonel of the Ninth Regiment, was in active service during the
Douglas war, as the affair that grew out of the affair with the
Chesapeake was called, and, during the late war with Great Britain,
commanded in the field the Second and Ninth Regiments, establishing an
exactness of discipline and an _esprit du corps_ which was a favorite
topic of remark in the army. He was the soul of honor. His name was an
authority, his word was a witness, wherever the one was known or the
other uttered; and there were those who predicted for him, whether he
should engage in the field or at the bar, a brilliant fame. Between him
and Tazewell, who were nearly of the same age, the most affectionate
friendship existed--a friendship which, founded on mutual esteem, and
cemented by mutual kindness, has descended already to the third
generation. In 1823, at the age of forty-seven, this excellent man
passed away. I only knew him in his latter years and in my boyish days.
I see him as, when our waters were filled with hostile fleets, he
marched at the head of his regiment, on a horse richly caparisoned,
shining with silver and steel. I see him as he walked along the street,
a tall slim man, quick in his movements, and inspiring, by his air and
gait and benignant eye, respect and even affection. He was early bald on
the upper part of his head; but, by way of atonement, wore to the last,
sometime after it was dropped by others, a long queue, that attracted
the passing glance of the boys. He was, I think, except Seth Foster and
Moses Myers, the last of the queues. He came of an old Anglo-Saxon
stock. His name for centuries in Scotland and in England had been borne
by archbishops and illustrious laymen; and in our own times, in the
earlier part of this century, it was the synonym of British
philanthropy. But neither early nor late, in the Old World or in the
New, was it ever borne by a nobler or a purer man--a man over whose
grave more gentle and more precious memories should hover--than WILLIAM
SHARP.
When, in 1802, Tazewell appeared at the Norfolk bar, party politics were
in a state of active fermentation. The passions of men became involved
in the contests of the day to an extent which has not been reached
since, and entered into the private relations of life. Men of business
who had important cases for trial, and who were, for the most part,
attached to the federal party, called in the aid of the federal members
of the bar; but it was soon seen that the young republican lawyer, who
had voted for the resolutions of '98-'99, and for the report of
'99-1800, and who had helped by his vote in the House of Representatives
to elect Mr. Jefferson president, had introduced a new practice into the
courts, and began to win verdicts in the greatest cases from all his
federal opponents. The result was, as it always will be, that ability
and learning prevailed over prejudice, and Tazewell was soon employed on
the one or the other side of every great question. As an illustration of
the strength of the political prejudices which prevailed, and which
entered into domestic affairs, when Tazewell became a member of the
Norfolk bar, I may mention an incident I heard many years ago. When it
was rumored that Tazewell was paying his addresses to the eldest
daughter of Col. Nivison, who belonged to the federal party, an old and
active federalist observed that the Colonel would never allow a daughter
of his to marry a democrat; and, as an illustration of the bigotry of
the opposite party, I may mention that I have heard old republicans say
that Tazewell's democracy was tainted by marrying into a federal family;
and that his marriage was the true explanation of the change of his
relations with the administration of Jefferson, of which I shall treat
in another place. And here it may be proper to state that, in 1802, Mr.
Tazewell led to the altar Anne Stratton, the eldest daughter of Colonel
John Nivison; a lady with whom he lived most happily for fifty-four
years, and whom, after an interval of eighteen months, he followed to
the grave.
In the fall of 1803, William Wirt, whose brilliant genius has reflected
so much credit on his adopted Commonwealth, came to reside in Norfolk.
Like all his legal compatriots, he had been an active politician, and
had been clerk of the House of Delegates for three sessions, during the
last of which, the session of 1799, the Virginia report was adopted, and
was a warm personal and political friend of Mr. Jefferson. It is from
his pen that the beautiful resolutions of the Virginia Assembly,
approving the administration of Jefferson at its close, proceeded; but
then he was not known even as the author of the Letters of the British
Spy which, though they had been printed in the Richmond _Argus_ in the
early fall, had not been collected into a volume. He was welcomed most
cordially by Mr. Tazewell, by whose persuasion he had come to Norfolk,
and whose business was now so overflowing that he offered, as we are
told by Wirt, to withdraw from several courts purely for his benefit.
The success of Wirt was flattering, but, overcome by the fear of the
yellow fever, and seduced by family attachments, in the early summer of
1806, he removed to Richmond. While he resided in Norfolk, he was
engaged with Mr. Tazewell in the case of Shannon (1804), which was tried
in Williamsburg, and which excited the most intense interest in Eastern
Virginia. Of Mr. Tazewell's speech on the trial Mr. Wirt always spoke in
terms of enthusiastic admiration, which was not the less glowing as
until that time he had looked upon Mr. Tazewell only as a severe
logician, and incapable of the loftier flights of eloquence. The
buoyancy of Wirt's spirits is exhibited in his admirable letters
published in the memoir of Mr. Kennedy; and his gentle courtesy and
generous nature are yet freshly remembered in our city. As a proof of
his playfulness, I have heard Mrs. Tazewell say that when Wirt would
call at her house, on his way to court, he would beg her for a bundle of
newspapers to stuff in his green bag, to make a show of business as he
passed into the court-house. When the Old Bachelor appeared, a series of
essays in imitation of the Spectator, which Wirt published after leaving
Norfolk, he delineated at full length the character of Tazewell, under
the name of Sidney, and of General Taylor under that of Herbert; and I
refer to the number as a gratifying evidence of the estimate which he
placed upon the genius and acquirements of those eminent men. And now
that the grave has closed above Wirt and Tazewell, it is refreshing to
contemplate the cordiality of their friendship, and the substantial
welcome which Tazewell extended to Wirt; and it is proper to say that,
but for the revelations of Mr. Wirt himself contained in his published
letters, and in the statements of his nearest friends, the recollection
of the generous kindness of Mr. Tazewell to Wirt, as may be said of many
other cases, would have remained unknown to his surviving friends.
In tracing the career of a great lawyer, we should follow him through
the courts in which his life was spent; but here, unfortunately, no
records appear which can throw any light upon the subject. The grandest
efforts of counsel are made in the presence of the court and of the
jury, and of those spectators who may happen to be in the court-room at
the time, and are soon forgotten. Many heroes, the poet tells us, lived
before Agamemnon, but are forgotten, because they had no poet to record
their praise; and, before the days of the stenographer, the most
brilliant harangues in our inferior courts perished with the breath of
them who uttered, and of those who heard them. Such has been the fate of
Mr. Tazewell. Of all the speeches which he addressed to the courts and
juries of Norfolk, from 1802 to 1821, not a vestige remains; and all
that we know is, that he was employed on one side or other of all the
important cases of that interval; and that he exhibited abilities which
easily placed him at the head of the bar of the Commonwealth, and
attracted the attention of all who, whether in foreign countries or our
own, held any connexion with our city. I shall pass over his criminal
cases altogether, though they abound in striking passages; and of his
civil cases in the courts of the State during his practice, I shall
select two only, and rather by way of allusion than in full detail, one
of which was tried at the beginning of this period, and the other in
1821 near its close.
About the year 1798, an eccentric individual named John Taylor, but
better known as Solomon John, to distinguish him from two other persons
of the same name living in Norfolk at the same time, a man of wealth and
position, but believed to be slightly deranged in some respects, was
returning from a hunting excursion, and, stopping at Burk's Gardens,
which have long since given way to the houses now composing Hartshorne's
Court, deliberately discharged his piece, which was loaded with small
shot, at a crowd of people, and wounded a man named Rainbow in the leg,
which was at length amputated. Rainbow instituted a suit, an action of
trespass on the case, in the Borough Court, and filed a declaration in
that form. Tazewell, as Taylor's attorney, offered to demur to the
declaration, a mode of pleading which, though old as the English law
itself, was a novelty in the borough; and the Court refused to receive
it. Mr. Tazewell took a bill of exceptions to the District Court at
Suffolk. The point of the demurrer was that the action should have been
trespass _vi et armis_. The District Court affirmed the decision of the
Borough Court; and an appeal was taken to the Court of Appeals, which
reversed the decision of the inferior courts. Until this time the
distinction, which is merely technical, had been hardly perceptible to
the courts of England and of this country, and was by no means settled
law; but thereafter the points of difference were regarded as clearly
defined; and both in England and in the courts of the United States, the
case of Taylor vs. Rainbow has always been cited as conclusive of the
question.
The other case, which was one of the last in which he appeared at the
Virginia bar, was Long vs. Colston, and was argued in 1820, in the Court
of Appeals. His associate in the case was Mr. Wickham, and the opposing
counsel were Gen. Walter Jones and Mr. Stanard; and it was decided by
Judges Roane, Cabell, and Coalter. The arguments of Tazewell are not
stated; but Mr. Gilmer, who reports the decision, laments that no
official reporter was present "to give to the profession even a sketch
of the profound and comprehensive views of the counsel." The question
was on the doctrine of Covenant; and I am told by learned counsel who
have examined Mr. Tazewell's notes in the case, that this was, in their
opinion, the greatest forensic display ever made in this country.
I recall an anecdote which was current at the time, and which shows the
effect of Tazewell's argument on the court. Roane, one of the judges
whose reputation has been held almost sacred in Virginia, was not
prejudiced in favor of Tazewell, in consequence of old political feuds;
but he was so transported by his argument that he could hardly think or
speak of anything else during the day. It is said that, on the day of
the argument, Roane had invited a party to dine with him, and after the
adjournment of the court went to his study at home, where he appeared
moody and abstracted. Meantime his company had arrived, and, as the
Judge still lingered in his office, his wife went to him and informed
him that the company was waiting; but all she could get from him were
such broken sentences as these: "Yes, the first man that ever argued a
law case," "the greatest of all our lawyers," "beyond all comparison our
first lawyer;" while she, abandoning him to his reveries, led the guests
to the table.
An incident which shows the character of Tazewell in an amiable point of
view deserves a passing allusion. When he had retired for some time from
general practice in our courts, he was induced to argue in the Superior
Court in Portsmouth a memorable case of insurance in which he had been
consulted; and, for the benefit of the junior members of the bar, he
discussed all the difficult and leading points of the case at full
length, and with all his ability, and made an impression upon the court,
and upon the bar, which was gratefully and delightfully remembered.