AMERICANIZING LOUISIANA.
POWERS OF LOUISIANA COURTS--GOVERNOR WILLIAM C.C. CLAIBORNE--CRUEL
O'REILLY--LEFRENIER AND NOYAN EXECUTED--A DUTCH JUSTICE--EDWARD
LIVINGSTON--A CARICATURE OF GENERAL JACKSON--STEPHEN MAZEREAU--A
SPEECH IN THREE LANGUAGES--JOHN R. GRYMES--SETTLING A CA. SA.--BATTURE
PROPERTY--A HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLAR FEE.
The Supreme Court of the State of Louisiana differs in this from that
of the other States: it has jurisdiction as well of the facts as of
the law.
In the trial of all cases in the district or lower courts, the
testimony is made a part of the record, and goes up to the Supreme
Court for supervision, as well as for the enlightenment of the court,
which passes upon the facts as well as the law; thus making the judges
in the lower courts merely masters in chancery, with the exception,
that where the decision of the judge is considered correct, it is
approved and made the judgment of the Supreme Court.
This court, by reason of its very extraordinary powers, becomes of the
highest importance to every citizen, and is really by far the most
important, as it is the most responsible branch of the Government.
The executive can only execute the law; the legislative acts are
revisable and amendable, so often as the Legislature holds its
sessions; but the judicial decisions of the Supreme Court become the
permanent law of the land. True, these decisions may be revised and
overruled, but this is not likely to be done by those judges who have
made them, and the tenure of office is such as practically to make
them permanent.
Under the first Constitution of the State, these judges were nominated
by the executive, and confirmed by the Senate. This Senate consisted
of seventeen members, chosen by the people from senatorial districts
containing a large area of territory and a numerous population. This
concentration of responsibility insured the selection of men of the
first abilities, attainments, and moral character. So long as this
system obtained, the Supreme Bench was ably filled, and its duties
faithfully and wisely discharged, with one exception only; but for the
sake of those who, though not blamable, would be deeply wounded, I
forbear further remark.
Governor William C.C. Claiborne, who was the Territorial Governor, was
elected by acclamation the first Governor of the State. He was a
Virginian and a man of fine attainments. His peculiar temperament was
well suited to the Creole population, and identifying himself with
that population by intermarrying with one of the most respectable
families of New Orleans, and studiously devoting himself to the
discharge of the duties of his office, he assumed some state in his
style of living, and when going abroad kept up something of the
regality of his colonial predecessors. Thus suiting the taste and
genius of the people, and in some degree comporting with what they had
been accustomed to, at the same time assuming great affability of
manner, both in private and in the discharge of his public duties, he
rendered himself extremely popular with both populations.
Governor Claiborne studiously promoted harmony between the people of
the different races constituting the population of the State, and
especially that of New Orleans. The State had been under the dominion
of three separate nations. The mass of the population, originally
French, very reluctantly yielded to Spanish domination, and not
without an attempt at resistance. For a time this had been successful
in expelling a hated Governor; but the famous O'Reilly, succeeding to
the governorship of the colony, came with such a force as was
irresistible, suppressing the armed attempt to reclaim the colony from
Spanish rule. He made prisoners of the chiefs of the malcontents, with
Lefrenier at their head, and condemned them to be shot. One of these
was Noyan, the son-in-law of Lefrenier. He was a young man, and but
recently united to the beautiful and accomplished daughter of the
gallant Lefrenier. His youth, his chivalry, and extraordinary
intrepidity excited the admiration of the cold, cruel O'Reilly, and he
was offered a pardon. He refused to accept it, unless mercy should be
extended to his father-in-law: this having been denied, he was
executed, holding in his own the hand of Lefrenier, defiantly facing
his executioners and dying with Roman firmness.
This bloody tragedy was transacted upon the square in front of the
Cathedral, where now stands the colossal statue of Andrew Jackson, in
the midst of the most lovely and beautiful shrubs and flowers
indigenous to the soil of Louisiana. The orange, with her pale green
foliage, and sweet, modest white flowers, so delicate and so
delicious; the oleander, the petisporum, and roses of every hue unite
their foliage and blend their fragrance to enchant and delight the eye
and sense, and to contrast too the scene of carnage once deforming and
outraging this Eden spot.
Scarcely had the people become reconciled to Spanish domination,
before the colony was retroceded to France, and again in no great
while ceded to the United States.
The French were prejudiced against the Spaniards and despised them,
and now the Americans were flowing into the country and city, with
manners and customs intolerable to both French and Spaniards, hating
both and being hated by both, creating a state of society painfully
unpleasant, and apparently irreconcilable.
This state of affairs made the Governor's position anything but
pleasant. But distressing as it was, he accomplished more in
preserving harmony than one well acquainted with the facts would have
deemed possible.
In doing this he was skilful enough to preserve his popularity, and
secure his election to the Gubernatorial chair upon the formation of
the State. Indeed, so great was his popularity, that it was said some
aspirants to Gubernatorial honors incorporated the clause in the
Constitution which makes the Governor ineligible to succeed himself,
lest Claiborne should be perpetual Governor.
Few men ever lived who could so suit themselves to circumstances as
Governor Claiborne. There was a strange fascination in his manners,
and a real goodness of heart, which spell-bound every one who came
within the range of his acquaintance. He granted a favor in a manner
that the recipient forever felt the obligation, and when he refused
one, it was with such apparent regret as to make a friend. He
sincerely desired the best interest of every one, and promoted it
whenever he could. It was said of him that he never refused, but
always promised, and always fulfilled his promise whenever it was in
his power.
When coming to take charge of the Territorial Government he stopped at
Baton Rouge, and spent the night with an honest Dutchman who kept
entertainment for travellers. In the morning, when his guest was
leaving, learning his official character, he took him aside, and
solicited the appointment of justice of the peace for Baton Rouge.
"Certainly, sir," said the Governor, "certainly;" and the Dutchman,
supposing the appointment made, hoisted his sign above his door, and
continued to administer justice in his way until his death, without
ever being questioned as to the nature of his appointment. The
Governor never thought a second time of the promise.
The selection and appointment of Governor Claiborne for the very
delicate duties devolving on an American governor, with such a
population as then peopled Louisiana, showed great wisdom and prudence
in Mr. Jefferson: he was to reconcile discordant materials within the
Territory, and reconcile all to the dominion of the United States. He
was to introduce, with great caution, the institutions of a
representative republican form of government among a people who had
never known any but a despotic government; whose language and religion
were alien to the great mass of the people of the nation. An American
Protestant population was hurrying to the country, and of all
difficulties most difficult, to reconcile into harmonious action two
antagonistic religions in the same community is certainly the one.
Claiborne accomplished all this. His long continuance in office showed
his popularity, and the prosperity of the people and Territory, his
wisdom.
In all his appointments he exercised great discretion, and in almost
every case his judgment and wisdom were manifested in the result; and
to this, day his name is revered and his memory cherished as a
benefactor. He was twice married, and left two sons--one by each
marriage; both live, highly respected, and very worthy citizens of the
city of their birth. His name is borne by one of the finest parishes
of the State and one of the most beautiful streets in the city of New
Orleans, and no man ever deserved more this high and honorable
commemoration from a grateful people than did William C.C. Claiborne.
Among those most conspicuous in Americanizing the State and city at
the early commencement of the American domination, after the Governor
and Supreme Court, were Henry Johnson, Edward Livingston, James Brown,
John R. Grymes, Thomas Urquhart, Boling Robinson, and General Philemon
Thomas.
Edward Livingston was a citizen at the time of the cession, having
emigrated from New York in 1801, where he had already acquired fame as
a lawyer. He was the brother of the celebrated Chancellor Livingston,
and had, as an officer of the General Government, in the city of New
York, defaulted in a large amount. To avoid the penalties of the law
he came to New Orleans, then a colony of a foreign government, and
there commenced the practice of his profession. After the cession he
was not disturbed by the Government, and continued actively to pursue
his profession.
He was the intimate friend of Daniel Clark, who was the first
Territorial representative in Congress; and it has been supposed that,
through the instrumentality of Clark, the Government declined pursuing
the claim against him. He first emerged to public view in a contest
with Mr. Jefferson relative to the batture property in the city of New
Orleans. Livingston had purchased a property above Canal Street, and
claimed all the batture between his property and the river as riparian
proprietor. This was contested by Mr. Jefferson as President of the
United States. He claimed this as public land belonging to the United
States under the treaty of purchase. The question was very ably argued
by both parties; but the title to this immensely valuable property
remained unsettled for many years after the death of both Jefferson
and Livingston, and finally was decreed by the Supreme Court of the
United States to belong to the city of New Orleans.
When, during the invasion of New Orleans by the English forces in the
war of 1812 and '15, General Jackson came to its defence, Livingston
volunteered as one of his aids, and rendered distinguished services to
Jackson and the country in that memorable affair, the battle of New
Orleans. A friendship grew up between Jackson and Livingston, which
continued during their lives. Soon after the war, Livingston was
elected to represent the New Orleans or First Congressional District
in Congress. He continued for some time to represent this district;
but was finally, about 1829, beaten by Edward D. White. At the
succeeding session of the Legislature, however, he was elected a
senator to Congress in the place of Henry Johnson. From the Senate he
was sent as Minister to France, and was afterward Secretary of State
during the administration of General Jackson. It was in his case that
Jackson exercised the extraordinary power of directing the Treasurer
of the United States to receipt Mr. Livingston for the sum of his
defalcation thirty-four years before. At the time this was done,
Tobias Watkins was in prison in Washington for a defalcation of only a
few hundreds to the Government. These two events gave rise to the
ludicrous caricature, which caused much amusement at the time, of
General Jackson's walking with his arm in Livingston's by the jail,
when Watkins, looking from the window, points to Livingston, saying to
the General: "You should turn me out, or put him in."
Immediately upon this receipt being recorded, Livingston presented an
account for mileage and per diem for all the time he had served in
Congress, and received it. So long as he was a defaulter to the
Government, he could receive no pay for public services.
As a lawyer, Mr. Livingston had no superior. He was master of every
system prevailing in the civilized world; he spoke fluently four
languages, and read double that number. As a statesman he ranked with
the first of his country, and was skilled as a diplomatist. In every
situation where placed by fortune or accident, he displayed ample
ability for the discharge of its duties. It is not known, but is
generally believed that, as Secretary of State, he wrote the state
papers of General Jackson. The same has been said of that veteran Amos
Kendall. There was one for which Livingston obtained the credit, which
he certainly did not write--the celebrated proclamation to the people
of South Carolina upon the subject of nullification. This was written
by Mr. Webster. Upon one occasion, Mr. Webster, per invitation, with
many members of Congress, dined with the President. When the company
was about retiring, General Jackson requested Mr. Webster to remain,
as he desired some conversation with him. The subject of South
Carolina nullification had been discussed cursorily by the guests at
dinner, and Jackson had been impressed with some of Webster's remarks;
and when alone together, he requested Webster's opinions on the
subject at length.
Mr. Webster replied, that the time was wanting for a full discussion
of the question; but if it would be agreeable to the President, he
would put them in writing and send them to him. He did so. These
opinions, expressing fully Mr. Webster's views, were handed to Mr.
Livingston, who, approving them, made a few verbal alterations, and
submitted the document, which was issued as the President's
proclamation. The doctrines politically enunciated in this paper are
identical with those entertained in the great speech of Mr. Webster,
in the famous contest with Robert T. Hayne, on Foote's Resolutions,
some years before; and are eminently Federal. They came like midnight
at noon upon the States-Rights men of the South, and a Virginian,
wherever found, groaned as he read them.
Mr. Livingston, though a Jeffersonian Democrat in his early life, and
now a Jackson Democrat, held very strong Federal notions in regard to
the relations between the States and the United States Government, and
was disposed to have these sanctioned by the adoption of General
Jackson.
Jackson, probably, never read this paper; and if he did, did not
exactly comprehend its tenor; for General Jackson's political opinions
were never very fixed or clear. What he willed, he executed, and
though it cut across the Constitution, or the laws, his friends and
followers threw up their caps and cheered him.
Mr. Livingston was charged with the delicate duty of discussing the
claims of our Government, representing its citizens, for spoliations
committed upon our commerce under the celebrated Milan and Berlin
decrees of Napoleon, and, backed by the determination of Jackson,
happily succeeded in finally settling this vexatious question. A sum
was agreed upon, and paid into the United States Treasury; but if I am
not mistaken, none, or very little of it, has ever reached the hands
of the sufferers. Upon the proof of the justice of their claims,
France was compelled to pay them to the Government; but now the
Government wants additional proof of this same fact, before the money
is paid over to them.
Mr. Livingston's learning was varied and extensive; he was a fine
classical scholar, and equally as accomplished in belles-lettres. In
the literature of France, Germany, and Spain he was quite as well
versed as in that of his native tongue. His historical knowledge was
more extensive and more accurate than that of any public man of the
day, except, perhaps, Mr. Benton. At the Bar, he met those eminent
jurists, Grymes, Lilly, Brown, and Mazereau, and successfully. This is
great praise, for nowhere, in any city or country, were to be found
their superiors in talent and legal lore.
Livingston never had the full confidence of his party, and perhaps
with the exception of General Jackson, that of any individual. In
moneyed matters, he was eminently unreliable; but all admitted his
great abilities. In social qualities, he was entirely deficient. He
had no powers of attraction to collect about him friends, or to attach
even his political partisans. These were proud of his talents, and
felt honored in his representation, and with the rest of the world
honored and admired the statesman, while they despised the man. He was
illiberal, without generosity, unsocial, and soulless, with every
attribute of mind to be admired, without one quality of the heart to
be loved. In person he was tall and slender, and without grace in his
movements, or dignity in his manners. With a most intellectual face,
his brow was extremely arched, his eye gray, and his prominent
forehead narrow but high and receding; his mouth was large and well
formed, and was as uncertain and restless as his eye. No one could
mistake from his face the talent of the man; yet there lurked through
its every feature an unpleasant something, which forced an unfavorable
opinion of the individual. Mr. Livingston lived very many years in
Louisiana, and rendered her great services in codifying her laws, and
making them clear and easy of comprehension. He shed lustre upon her
name, by his eminent abilities as a jurist and statesman, and thus has
identified his name most prominently with her history. But without
those shining qualities which clasp to the heart in devoted affection
the great man, and which constitute one great essential of true
greatness. And now that he is in the grave, he is remembered with cold
respect alone.
Stephen Mazereau was a Frenchman, a Parisian, and a lawyer there of
the first eminence. When about to emigrate to Madrid, in Spain, the
Bar of his native city presented him with a splendid set of silver, in
respect for his position as a lawyer and his virtues as a man. He
remained ten years in Spain's capital, and was at the head of the Bar
of that city; and when leaving it to come to New Orleans, received a
similar testimonial from his brethren there to his worth and talents.
Immediately upon coming to New Orleans, he commenced the practice of
the law, and at once took rank with Livingston, Lilly, Brown, and
Grymes, who, though then a very young man, had already gained eminence
in his profession.
Mr. Mazereau, except giving his State, in the Legislature, the benefit
of his abilities, avoided politics, confining himself exclusively to
his profession. In the argument of great questions before the Supreme
Court of the State between these eminent jurists, was to be seen the
combat of giants. Mazereau was a short, stout man, with an enormous
head, which made his appearance singularly unique. In his arguments he
was considerate, cautious, and eminently learned. Sometimes he would
address the people on great political questions, and then all the
fervor of the Frenchman would burst forth in eloquent and impressive
appeals. I remember hearing him, when he was old, address an immense
gathering of the people. He looked over the crowd, when he rose, and
said: "I see three nations before me. Americans, I shall speak to you
first. Frenchmen, to you next--and to you, my Spanish friends, last. I
shall probably occupy two hours with each of you. It will be the same
speech; so you who do not understand the English language, need not
remain. You who understand French, may return when I shall dismiss
these Americans--and you, my Spanish friends, when I am through with
these Frenchmen." This he fulfilled to the letter in a six-hours'
speech, and I never knew a political speech effect so much.
For many years he was attorney-general of the State, and legal adviser
and counsellor of the Governor. Although his practice was eminently
profitable, he was so careless and extravagant in money matters, that
he was always poor and necessitous, especially in his old age.
It really seems one of the attributes of genius to be indifferent to
this world's goods, and when time and labor have done their work, and
the imbecility of years obscures its brilliancy, to droop neglected,
and, if not in want, in despised poverty. Such was the fate for a
short time of this great man--but only for a short time. His powerful
intellect retained its vigor, and his brilliant wit all its edges, to
within a little while of his death. Sadly I turn back, in memory, to
the day he communicated to me that his necessities would compel him to
dispose of the beautiful and valuable testimonials of the Bar of two
proud nations to his character and abilities. His great intellect was
beginning to fade out; but, as the sun, declining to rest canopied
with increasing clouds, will sometimes pierce through the interstices
of the dark masses, and dart for a moment the intensity of his light
upon the earth, the mind of Mazereau would flash in all its youthful
grandeur and power from the dimness that was darkening it out.
He was a noble specimen of a French gentleman: a French scholar, and a
Frenchman. His memory is embalmed in the hearts of his friends of
every nation who knew him in New Orleans. Strictly moral in his
habits, full of truth and honor, and overflowing with generosity,
social in his habits, and kindly in his feelings, he made friends of
all who came in contact with him; and yet he had his enemies. His
intolerance of everything that was little or mean, and his scorn and
hatred of men of such character, was never concealed, either in his
conversation or conduct. Such men were his enemies, and some, too,
were his foes from the intolerance of political antagonism; but the
grave obliterated these animosities, and the generous political
antagonist cherishes now only respect for this truly great man. With
deep gratitude my heart turns to his memory: his generous kindness,
his warm friendship was mine for long years, and to me his memory is
an incense.
John R. Grymes was a Virginian and close connection of John Randolph,
of Roanoke, whose name he bore; but of this he never boasted, nor did
any one hear him claim alliance of blood with Pocahontas. Mr. Madison
appointed him district attorney of the United States for the district
of Louisiana, when a very young man. This appointment introduced him
to the Bar and the practice immediately. He was one of those
extraordinary creations, who leap into manhood without the probation
of youth: at twenty-two he was eminent and in full practice, ranking
with the leading members of the Bar. Truly, Grymes was born great, for
no one can remember when he was not great! Never, in company, in
social life, with a private friend, at the Bar, or anywhere, was he
even apparently simple or like other men; in private, with his best
friend, he spoke, he looked, and he was the great man. He was great in
his frivolities, great in his burlesques, great in his humor, great in
common conversation; the great lawyer, the great orator, the great
blackguard, and the great companion, the great beau, and the great
spendthrift: in nothing was he little.
His language was ornate, his style was terse and beautiful; in
conversation he was voluble and transcendently entertaining; knew
everybody and everything; never seemed to read, and yet was always
prepared in his cases, and seemed to be a lawyer by intuition. He was
rarely in his office, but always on the street, and always dressed in
the extreme of the fashion; lived nowhere, boarded nowhere, slept
nowhere, and ate everywhere. He dined at a restaurant, but scarcely
ever at the same twice in succession; would search for hours to find a
genial friend to dine with him, and then, if he was in the mood, there
was a feast of the body and flow of the soul; went to every ball,
danced with everybody, visited the ladies; was learned or frivolous,
as suited the ladies' capacities or attainments; appeared fond of
their society, and always spoke of them with ridicule or contempt;
married, and separated from his wife, no one knew for what cause, yet
still claimed and supported her. She was the widow of Governor
Claiborne, and a magnificent woman; she was a Spaniard by blood,
aristocratic in her feelings, eccentric, and, intellectually, a fit
companion for Grymes. She was to Claiborne an admirable wife, but
there was little congeniality between her and Grymes. Grymes knew that
it was not possible for any woman to tolerate him as a husband, and
was contented to live apart from his wife. They were never divorced,
but lived--she in New York, or at her villa on Staten Island; Grymes
in New Orleans. He never complained of her; always spoke kindly, and
sometimes affectionately of her; denied the separation, and annually
visited her. Their relations were perfectly amicable, but they could
not live together. Grymes could have lived with no woman. In all
things he was _sui generis_; with no one like him in any one thing,
for he was never the same being two consecutive days. He had no fixed
opinions that any one knew of; he was a blatant Democrat, and yet
never agreed with them in anything; a great advocate of universal
equality, and the veriest aristocrat on earth; he would urge to-day as
a great moral or political truth certain principles, and ridicule them
with contemptuous scorn to-morrow. He was the most devout of
Christians to-day, the most abandoned infidel to-morrow; and always,
and with everybody, striving to appear as base and as abandoned as
profligate man could be: to believe all he said of himself, was to
believe him the worst man on earth. He despised public opinion and
mankind generally; still he was kind in his nature, and generous to
profligacy; was deeply sympathetic, and never turned from the
necessitous without dropping a tear or giving a dollar--the one he
bestowed generously, the other he rarely had to give; but, if an
acquaintance was at hand, he would borrow and give, and the charity of
heart was as sincere as though the money had been his own.
On one occasion I was with him when charity was solicited of him by a
wretched old woman. "Give me five dollars," he said to me; the money
was handed the woman, and she was sent away, to be drunk and in a
police-station within the hour. I remarked: "That old wretch has
brought all this upon her by an abandoned profligacy." "Then I owe her
sympathy as well as charity," was his reply; "I do not know the cause
of her suffering, but I know she is suffering: it may be for food, it
may be for drink; if either obliterates her misery, your money is well
spent."
He had no idea of the value of money; was constantly in the receipt of
large fees, with a most lucrative practice, but was always
embarrassed, owed everybody, loaned to everybody, gave to everybody,
and paid nobody.
During the existence of the law which imprisoned for debt, he was
constantly in the sheriff's hands, but always settling, by the most
ingenious devices, the claim at the jail-door. It is told of him, that
the sheriff on one occasion notified him that there was a _ca. sa._ in
his hands, and that he did not want to arrest him. The sum was large,
some two thousand dollars--Grymes had not a dollar. He paused a
moment, then said, "Come to me to-morrow. I have a case of Milliadon's
for trial to-morrow; he is greatly interested in it. When it is
called, I will give you the wink, then arrest me." In obedience to
directions, the sheriff came, the case was called, and Grymes
arrested. Milliadon was in court, his hopes were in Grymes, and when
he was informed that Grymes was in custody of the sheriff, he groaned
aloud.
"Oh! Mr. Grymes, vat am I to do?"
"Why, you must employ other counsel," said Grymes.
"_Mon dieu!_ but I have pay you for attend this case, and I want you.
You know about it, and it must be try now."
"Yes," continued the imperturbable Grymes, "you have paid me, I know,
and I know it would be dangerous to trust it to other counsel, but it
is your only hope. I have no money, and here is a _ca. sa._, and I am
on my way to jail."
"Oh! _mon dieu! mon dieu!_ vat is de amount of de _ca. sa._?"
"Two thousand dollars," said the sheriff.
"Two thousand dollars!" repeated Milliadon.
"Goodall _vs._ Milliadon," said the Judge, "Preston, for
plaintiff--Grymes, for defendant. What do you do with this case,
gentlemen?"
"We are ready," said Preston.
"And you, Mr. Grymes?" asked the court.
"Vill you take my check for de _ca. sa._, Mr. Sheriff?"
"Certainly, sir," replied the officer.
"Say we is ready too, Mr. Grymes--all my witness be here."
"I believe we are ready, your honor," answered Grymes. Milliadon was
writing his check. "Enter satisfaction on the _ca. sa._," said Grymes.
The sheriff did so, as Milliadon handed him the check. Grymes now
turned his attention to the case as coolly as though nothing had
occurred. That was the last Milliadon ever heard of his two thousand
dollars.
Laurent Milliadon and the millionaire John McDonough were litigious in
their characters; and their names occur in the report of the Supreme
Court decisions more frequently than those of any ten other men in the
State. Grymes was the attorney for both of them for many years. They
were both men of great shrewdness, and both speculative in their
characters, and both had accumulated large fortunes. Without any
assignable cause, McDonough ceased to employ Grymes, and intrusted his
business to other counsel, who did not value their services so
extravagantly. Mentioning the fact upon one occasion to Grymes, "Ah!
yes," said he, "I can explain to your satisfaction the cause. In a
certain case of his, in which he had law and justice with him, he
suddenly became very uneasy. 'I shall certainly lose it, Grymes,' he
said excitedly to me. I told him it was impossible; he had never had
so sure a thing since I had been his attorney. In his dogmatical
manner, which you know, he still persisted in saying, he was no great
lawyer as I was, but some things he knew better than any lawyer, and
'I shall lose that case.' At the same time he significantly touched
his pocket and then his palm, signifying that money had been paid by
his adversary to the court, or some member of it. 'Ah!' said I, 'are
you sure--very sure?' 'Very sure--I know it; and you will see I shall
lose this suit.' He was not wont to speak so positively, without the
best evidence of any fact. 'Well, Mac,' said I, jestingly, 'if that is
the game, who can play it better than you can--you have a larger stake
than any of them, and of course better ability?' Well, sir, he did
lose one of the plainest cases I ever presented to a court. From that
day forward I have not received a fee from him: and now the secret is
before the world. He has been detected in bribing one of the judges of
the Supreme Court."
As an orator, Grymes was among the first of the country. All he
wanted, to have been exceedingly eloquent, was earnestness and
feeling; of this he was devoid. His manner was always collected and
cool; his style chaste and beautiful, with but little ornament; he
spoke only from the brain--there was nothing from the heart. In
argument he was exceedingly cogent and lucid, and when the subject
seemed most complicated, the acuteness of his analytical mind seemed
to unravel and lay bare the true features of the case, with an ease
and power that required scarce an effort. His powers of ratiocination
were very great, and this was the forte of his mind; his conclusions
were clearly deduced from arguments always logical.
There were times when he would be serious--and then there was a
grandeur about him very striking. At such times, bursts of passionate
feeling would break from him that seemed like volcanic eruptions. They
appeared to come from a deep and intense tenderness of heart. These
were momentary--the lightning's flash illuminating the gloom and
darkness of its parent cloud. I have thought this was the man's
nature, born with a heart capable of intense feeling, which had been
educated to believe this weakness. Coming very young away from his
home and early associations, to live and mingle with strangers of a
different race--leaving the rural scenes and home associations which
were forming and developing nature's glorious gifts, to come to a
profligate and heartless city--the whole current of his susceptible
nature was changed, and the feeling and good perverted and
overshadowed, yet not entirely rooted out. Hence the contradictions in
his character. Sometimes nature was too strong for art, and would
break out in beauty, as the flower, rich in fragrance and delicate
loveliness, when touched by the genial sun, will burst from the black
and uninviting bud.
Upon one occasion, when there was a United States senator to be
elected, and when the Democratic party held a majority in the
Legislature, rendering it impossible for the Whigs to elect any member
of their own party, yet, with the assistance of three from the
Democratic party, could choose from this party any man they would
select and unite upon--they determined to propose Grymes, and had
secured the requisite assistance from the Democracy. I was a member,
and a Whig, and was delegated to communicate the facts to Grymes. I
knew the Senate had been his ambition for years. I knew he felt his
powers would give him a position with the greatest of that body, and
an immediate national reputation, and had no doubt of his cheerful
acquiescence. To my astonishment he assumed a grave and most serious
manner. "I am grateful, most grateful to you," he said, "for I know
this has been brought about by you, and that you sincerely desire to
gratify me; but I cannot consent to be a candidate. Most frankly will
I tell you my reasons. I admit it has been my desire for years. It has
been, I may say to you, my life-long ambition; but I have always
coupled the possession of the position with the power of sustaining it
reputably. I was never ambitious of the silly vanity of simply being a
senator and known as such; but of giving to it the character and
dignity due it. Louisiana is a proud State, her people are a noble and
a proud people, they have a right to be so--look at her! With a soil
and a climate congenial to the production of the richest staples now
ministering to the luxuries and necessities of man--with a river
emptying into her commercial mart the productions of a world, her
planters are princes, in feeling, fortune, and position. At their
mansions is dispensed a noble hospitality, rich in the feasts of body
and mind, generous and open as was Virginia's in her proudest days. At
Washington I would represent these, and the merchant-princes of her
metropolis. You have said, as eloquently as truly, 'There is but one
Mississippi River; but one Louisiana; but one New Orleans on the face
of the earth.' As she is, and as her people are, I would represent her
as her senator.
"I am a beggar, and cannot consent, in this character, to be made more
conspicuous, by being made a beggarly senator. I cannot take a house
in Washington, furnish it, and live in it as a gentleman. I could not,
in any other manner, entertain my people visiting Washington,
consistently with my ideas of what a senator should do. I cannot go to
Washington, and, as one of them, stand among the great men of the
Senate, in that magnificent hall, and feel my soul swell to theirs and
its proportions, and then dodge you, or any other gentleman from
Louisiana, and sneak home to a garret. My means would allow me no
better apartment. I could not live in the mean seclusion of a
miserable penury, nor otherwise than in a style comporting, in my
estimation, with the dignity and the duty of a senator from Louisiana,
as some have done, who were able to live and entertain as gentlemen,
for the purpose of the degraded saving of half my _per diem_ to swell
my coffers at home.
"Now, my friend, I feel how miserably foolish I have been all my life.
I have thrown away fortune because I despised it. It was too
grovelling a pursuit, too mean a vocation, to make and to hoard money.
In my soul I despised it, and now you see it is revenged; for without
it, I have learned, there is no gratification for ambition--no
independence of a sneering, envious world. A bankrupt is a felon,
though his mind, his virtues, and his attainments may be those of a
god. He is a useless waif upon the world; for all he has, or all he
may be, is, to himself and the world, unavailable without money. I
have discarded all my ambitious aspirations long since, and tried to
reconcile myself to the fact that my life has been and is a failure.
And I am sorry you have come to me to remind me that the aim of my
young life was within my reach, when I have no means to grasp it, and,
now that I am miserable, to show me what I might have been. No, my
friend, I must go on with the drudgery of the law, to earn my bread,
and thus eke out a miserable future. I am grateful to you and my other
friends, who have delegated you to this mission. Say so to them, if
you please. I must go to court. The horse of the bark-mill must go to
his daily circle. Good morning!"
Some years after the event above mentioned, Grymes, as the attorney of
the city of New Orleans, succeeded, before the Supreme Court of the
United States, in making good the title to the batture property in the
city. What is termed batture in Louisiana is the land made by
accretion or deposits of the Mississippi. One strange feature of this
great river is, that it never gets any wider. It is continually
wearing and caving on one side or the other, and making a
corresponding deposit on the other bank. Opposite a portion of the
city of New Orleans this deposit has been going on for many years,
while the opposite bank has been wearing away. There are living
citizens who saw in youth the river occupying what is now covered by
many streets and many blocks of buildings, and is one of the most
valuable portions of the city. In truth, what was a century ago entire
river, is now one-fourth of the city, and this deposit goes on
annually without any decrease in its ratio.
By agreement of all parties, this batture was surveyed into squares
and lots, and sold at public auction, and the money deposited in the
Bank of Louisiana, to the credit of the Supreme Court of the United
States, to abide the decision of that tribunal as to the rightful
ownership. The decision gave it to the city. Grymes, as attorney for
the city, by order of the court, received a check for the money. The
bank paid the check, and Grymes appropriated one hundred thousand
dollars of it, as a fee for his services, and then deposited the
balance to the credit of the mayor and council of the city. This was a
large fee, but was not really what he was entitled to, under the
custom of chancery for collecting money. He had agreed to pay Daniel
Webster for assistance rendered; but Mr. Webster, some years after,
informed me that he had never received a cent, and I am sure he never
did, after that.
Grymes was well aware, if the city fathers got their hands upon the
money, it would be years before he got this amount, if ever. With a
portion of this money he liquidated all claims not antiquated and
forgotten by him, and the balance was intrusted to the hands of a
friend to invest for his benefit. This, together with his practice,
which was now declining, furnished a handsome support for him. Age
appeared to effect little change in his _personnel_. At sixty-seven,
he was as erect in person and as elastic in step as at thirty. There
was none of that _embonpoint_ usually the consequence of years and
luxurious living. He was neither slender nor fat; but what is most
agreeable to the eye--between the two, with a most perfectly formed
person. His features were manly, and strikingly beautiful; his blue
eyes beaming with the _hauteur_ of high breeding and ripe
intelligence. These features were too often disfigured with the sneer
of scorn, or the curled lip of expressive contempt. His early hopes,
his manhood's ambition had been disappointed; and, soured and sore, he
sneered at the world, and despised it. He had no confidence in man or
woman, and had truly reached Hamlet's condition, when "Man delighted
him not, nor woman either." He felt the world was his debtor, and was
niggardly in its payments. He grew more and more morose as the things
of time receded. Others, full of youth, talent, and vigor, were
usurping the positions and enjoying the honors of life, which were
slipping away from him unenjoyed. He turned upon these the bitterness
engendered by disappointment. Cynicism lent edge to his wit, and
bitterness to his sarcasm. He was at war with himself, and
consequently with all the world. His mind felt none of the imbecility
of age, and to the last retained its perspicuity and power. As he came
into life a man, and never knew a boyhood, so he went from it a man,
without the date of years. At sixty-eight years of age, he went
quietly from life without suffering, and, to himself, without regret.
He was a man--take him all in all--whose like we shall not look on
soon again.
The virtues and the vices, the loves and the hates of life were
strangely blended in the character of John Randolph Grymes; but if we
judge from the fact that he had and left many warm and devoted
friends, and few enemies, we must suppose the good in his nature
greatly preponderated. But notwithstanding the great space he had
filled in the eyes of the people of the city, his death startled only
for a moment, and straightway he was forgotten; as the falling pebble
dimples for a moment the lake's quiet surface--then all is smooth
again.