JAMES T. BRADY.
The father of James T. Brady was born in Ireland, and came to this
country during the second war with England, and just after his marriage.
Mr. Brady opened a school for boys, in New York, soon after his arrival,
and it was in that city, on the 9th of April, 1815, that his eldest son,
JAMES TOPHAM BRADY, was born. Other children followed, there being seven
in all, two boys (James T., and Judge John R. Brady) and five girls. Mr.
Brady, senior, was a man of rare abilities, and his wife was a woman of
great personal beauty and high character, "one of those mothers," says a
distinguished gentleman, who knew her, "whose quiet virtues shed their
blessed influence over families, and are felt so long in their durable
effect upon children."
James T. Brady grew up with a sound, vigorous constitution, and at an
early age was put at his studies in his father's school. He was only
seven years old when he began, and though so young, he worked hard,
storing his "big head"--which seemed too big for the little feet below
it--with knowledge. He endeared himself very greatly to his
school-fellows, and formed with several of them friendships which
continued through life. "He was so noted," says one of his former
school-fellows, "for his loving kindliness as a boy, that it almost
obliterates every other recollection." His amiable traits developed with
his years. He always delighted in acts of kindness, and could never bear
to give pain, even to the most insignificant animal or insect. He
detested hunting and fishing, which he regarded as a needless sacrifice
of life. Yet while so tender and gentle in his disposition, he was brave
and fearless, unusually independent, and, above all, as mirthful and
fond of a jest at fifty as at sixteen.
Before he had completed his education, his father abandoned the
profession of teaching for that of a lawyer, and young Brady entered his
office as office-boy and student, it being his desire to become an
advocate. He was bright, quick-witted, and remarkably apt in his
studies. His buoyant spirits and ready repartee often led him into
encounters with his elders, who were generally forced to confess that
his tongue was too much for them. His father encouraged him to form his
own opinions, and to hold them tenaciously until convinced of his error.
He made rapid progress in his legal studies, and soon acquired such
proficiency in the management of the details of the office business that
every thing which did not absolutely need his father's personal
attention was left to him.
Although fond of social enjoyment, and full of the fire and joyfulness
of youth, he knew how to seclude himself from the pleasures he relished
so much. He was a hard and faithful student, allowing nothing to draw
him from his books when he meant to devote himself to them. He read not
only law, but history, poetry, biography, romance, in short, every thing
that could store his mind with useful knowledge or add to its natural
graces. He slept at the office, and often sat up the entire night
engaged in study. Abbott speaks as follows of the early studies of
Napoleon II., and it requires no straining of language or ideas to
apply his remarks to this portion of the life of James T. Brady: "So
great was his ardor for intellectual improvement that he considered
every day as lost in which he had not made perceptible progress in
knowledge. By this rigid mental discipline he acquired that wonderful
power of concentration by which he was ever enabled to simplify subjects
the most difficult and complicated." Mr. Brady, senior, was very proud
of the energy and talent displayed by his son, and when the latter was
nineteen years old the father said to a friend who had been speaking to
him of the promise of the boy: "Yes, sir; he is a boy of great promise,
a boy of splendid intellect and noble character. Young as he is, I
regard him as a walking encyclopoedia; his mind seems to gild every
subject it touches."
In the year 1835, when but twenty years old, Mr. Brady was admitted to
the bar. "There were giants in those days" at the New York bar, and the
young man was now entering an arena in which his powers were to be
tested to the utmost. His native eloquence was well known to his
friends, and naturally he was not ignorant of it; but he did not, like
so many young men in his calling, trust entirely to his powers of
pleading. He had long since recognized the truth of Lord Erskine's
declaration that "no man can be a great advocate who is no lawyer," and
had stored his mind with a knowledge of the theories of his profession
which few men in coming to the bar have ever equaled.
In his first important case he was opposed to Charles O'Conor, and was
unsuccessful. He was engaged in a suit to recover a certain sum of money
from an insurance company, which his client claimed was due him for
certain goods which had been destroyed by fire. As Brady himself saw, he
had a very weak case, and Mr. O'Conor had no trouble in demolishing it;
yet the young counsel conducted it with a skill and an eloquence which
made him from that hour a marked man in his profession. Yet he had to
contend against that obstacle which meets most public men at the outset
of their careers--the feeling which actors call "stage fright." He said
that on this occasion every thing around him grew suddenly black, and he
could not even see the jury. By steadying himself against his table, and
keeping his eyes in the direction of the jury, he continued to speak
until he had recovered his self-control.
The case which brought him most prominently before the public, and which
may be said to have established his fame as a lawyer, was a peculiar
one. Some newsboys had been arrested for selling the "Sunday Morning
News" on the morning of the Sabbath day. It was claimed that the selling
of the paper on the streets on Sunday was contrary to law, and that the
boys disturbed the congregations in the churches by their cries. One of
these boys had been arrested at the instance of Mr. Gerard, and this
brought on a suit to determine the rights of the lads, in which Mr.
Brady appeared for the newsboys. Considerable feeling was manifested on
the subject, and when the trial came on the court-room was crowded. The
verdict of the jury was against him, but Mr. Brady won a remarkable
triumph by his management of the case, and the whole city rang with his
eloquence. So great was the effect of his speech upon the audience, that
many of them who were total strangers to him crowded around him as he
left the court-house to congratulate him. Though defeated in the verdict
of the jury, this case was a great triumph for Mr. Brady. It established
his fame as an advocate, and advanced him at once to a foremost place at
the bar. Business flowed in upon him more rapidly than he could attend
to it, and from this time to the close of his labors he was always in
the possession of a large and lucrative practice.
Mr. McKeon has said of him: "We may refer to the period of his
introduction to the bar of this city as an epoch in its history. In
looking back at the past, we see rising before us George Wood, treading
with no uncertain step through the labyrinth of the law of real
property; Daniel Lord, following, with his legal eye, commerce over the
long and dreary waste of waters; David Graham, the younger, and Ogden
Hoffman, standing in full panoply of intellectual power before our
criminal tribunals. Into the lists where stood these proud knights young
Brady sprang, ready to contend with the mightiest of them. How well he
contended many of you well remember, and the honors paid to his memory
are justified by the triumphs he has won."
He grew rapidly in popularity, and in the esteem and confidence of his
fellow-citizens, and was intrusted with numerous cases of a class which
had rarely until then been seen in the hands of a young lawyer. His
practice soon extended into the Supreme Court of the State, which at
that time met quarterly, at New York, Albany, Utica, and Rochester. The
practice of this court was entirely in the hands of men of high standing
in their profession,--the great lawyers of the State,--and it was no
slight honor to our young lawyer to hold a place, and a proud place,
too, among them.
He won additional honors in the famous India-rubber suits, which have
been mentioned elsewhere in this volume, acting as one of the counsel of
Charles Goodyear, and being associated with Daniel Webster. Brady
applied himself with intense energy to master the case, and when the
trial came off at Trenton, in the United States Circuit Court, before
Justices Grier and Dickerson, he opened the case in a speech which
lasted two days, and which Daniel Webster said in the beginning of his
remarks had so exhausted it as to leave him nothing to say.
Turning to Mr. Brady, Mr. Webster said, "You have cut a highway through
this case, and if it is won, it will be because of the manner in which
you have brought it before the court." The suit was won by Goodyear.
"In connection with the India-rubber cases is a fact which testifies to
his character. A salary of twenty-live thousand dollars a year for life
was offered to be settled on him by the rubber company, if he would
advise a certain course; but not deeming it right, he rejected the
offer. When in France, in 1851, the rubber cases coming in controversy
there, Mr. Brady substantially gave in French, to Etienne Blanc, the
French advocate, the materials for his brief."
Mr. Brady practiced law for thirty-four years, and during the major part
of that time there was scarcely a case of great importance, in either
the civil or criminal courts, in which he did not figure. He was
compelled to refuse case after case from lack of time to give to it; and
yet he frequently found time to respond to the appeals of the courts to
defend men indicted for capital offenses who were unable to procure
counsel. In some of these cases he had scarcely any chance of
preparation, but he always managed to secure the acquittal of his
client, in spite of this drawback. The spirit of kindliness which had so
endeared him to his boyhood's friends pervaded every action of his
maturer life, and he never displayed more energy, more unceasing
vigilance, more irresistible eloquence, than when pleading the cause of
some poor wretch who could only reward him with his thanks.
His readiness in mastering a case was remarkable, and was greatly
assisted by his profound knowledge of the law. As a rule, in the
ordinary run of cases, it was merely necessary for him to comprehend the
particular case under consideration, since he was already familiar with
the law bearing upon it.
This readiness is admirably illustrated in the following reminiscence
related of him by the Hon. Luther R. Marsh. Mr. Marsh was engaged in a
case of great importance, in which he desired Mr. Brady's assistance in
the trial. Marsh had thoroughly and patiently studied the case, but
Brady was totally ignorant of it. Nevertheless, he told Mr. Marsh he
would do his best, and that he (Marsh) must open the case as fully and
exhaustively as he could, without reference to him. Mr. Marsh did so,
and says that when he sat down he thought he had _exhausted_ the case,
and was wondering what Brady could find to say in addition to it. To his
astonishment and delight, Brady rose, and in his argument presented
seven new and telling points.
In the examination of a witness, he could be severe and decisive when he
had occasion to suspect that the person was trying to evade the truth;
but in general his manner was kind and considerate, and he succeeded in
eliciting evidence by his forbearance which others could not have
extorted by bullying. Upon one occasion, he was convinced that a witness
was about to relate a "made-up" story, and he at once fixed upon the man
a look so piercing that the fellow was overwhelmed with confusion and
could not go on with his evidence. Brady promptly changed his tactics,
sent for a glass of water for the witness, and soothed him so
effectually that the heart of the man was won, and, abandoning his false
tale, he made a simple statement of the truth.
The independence of character exhibited by Mr. Brady has already been
adverted to. Having once traced out the line of duty, nothing could make
him swerve from it, and he was as bold in the defense of the rights of
his clients as of his own. Mr. Edwards Clarke, from whose excellent
memoir is gleaned much of the information upon which this sketch is
based, relates the following incidents in illustration of this quality
of the man:
"The trial of Baker for the murder of Poole furnished a notable instance
of Mr. Brady's intrepidity in behalf of a client. It was at the height
of the 'Know-Nothing' excitement, and Poole, after receiving the fatal
bullet, having exclaimed, 'I die an American,' succeeded in causing
himself to be regarded as a martyr to the cause. Lingering for days
with--as the _post-mortem_ proved--a bullet deeply imbedded in his
heart, the interest and excitement became intense; and on the day of his
funeral twenty thousand men walked in solemn procession behind the
coffin of the martyred 'rough.' In such a state of public feeling, Baker
was put on trial for his life. At the opening of the charge by the
judge, aroused by its tenor, Mr. Brady seized a pen and commenced
writing rapidly, indignation showing itself in his set lips and frowning
brow. The moment the judge ceased he was on his feet, and began: 'You
have charged the jury thus and thus. I protest against your so stating
it.' The judge said he would listen to the objections after the jury had
retired. 'No!' exclaimed the indignant orator, 'I choose that the jury
should hear those objections;' and, defying interference, he poured
forth impetuously forty-five separate and formal objections, couching
them all emphatically in words of personal protest to the judge. The
force of the judge's charge on that jury was pretty effectually broken.
The indignation of the advocate at this time was real, not simulated;
and he, at least, of the New York bar dared to defy and to denounce
injustice, even when clad in ermine.
"Another instance of his intrepidity before a judge was in the Busteed
case. The judge had threatened to convict him for contempt. Busteed had
apologized, and Brady also, with his matchless grace and courtesy, had
tendered Busteed's apology; but the judge still said that he should
send him to prison. 'You will, will you?' said Brady; 'I say you will
not.' And, citing authority after authority against his power to do so,
he dared him to thus stretch his prerogative. The judge thought best to
excuse Mr. Busteed."
Perhaps one of the best instances of his moral courage to be found was
his conduct with reference to the late Edwin M. Stanton. He was
associated with Mr. Stan ton in the Sickles trial, and conceived a warm
personal attachment to him. Mr. Brady remained a Democrat to the last,
and was an active member of Tammany Hall. Upon one occasion, during a
meeting of the Tammany Committee, when the name of Stanton was received
with hisses and yells of objurgation, Brady rose, and facing the crowd
told them "that he knew they hated Edwin M. Stanton, but he, a Democrat,
knew him, and held him in his heart of hearts." It was a bold
declaration, considering the time and place, even for one so highly
esteemed as James T. Brady.
As before remarked, Mr. Brady never relied upon his eloquence alone for
success at the bar. He had a profound respect for his profession, and
scorned its trickeries. He worked faithfully over the cases intrusted to
him, studied them carefully, and never brought them to trial till he was
thorough master of the law bearing upon them. This enabled him
frequently to present issues which a less learned man would not have
dreamed of. When he was retained as counsel for Huntington the forger,
he conceived the idea that the man was morally unaccountable for his
deed, and his theory of moral insanity, as developed by him in this
case, is one of the most powerful arguments upon the subject to be found
in any language. He read every thing he could find on the subject of
insanity, and when he went into court there was not a physician in the
land better informed with respect to it than he. The cases in which he
was frequently engaged required an unusual acquaintance with medical
jurisprudence, and he was regarded as one of the best authorities on the
subject in the country.
His power over a jury was remarkable. He never lost sight of the "twelve
peers," and by his dexterous management soon had them so thoroughly
under the influence of his magnetic mind that they hung upon his words,
followed his every act, laughed or cried as he willed, and seemed
capable of thinking only as he permitted them. He defended fifty-one men
for their lives in the course of his practice, and brought them all off
in safety.
[Illustration: "THEY ARE GOING TO HANG MY BROTHER, AND YOU CAN SAVE
HIM!"]
Mr. Clarke, from whose memoir I have already quoted, relates the
following incidents in his career:
"The case of a young man charged with murder, in what was claimed to be
an accidental fracas, attracted a good deal of interest. He was a Mason,
and that society applied to Mr. Brady to defend him, tendering
twenty-five hundred dollars as a fee; but for some cause he declined the
case. Not long after, one afternoon, a neatly-dressed, modest young girl
came to the office and asked for Mr. Brady. Told to walk into his
private office, she timidly approached his desk, and saying, 'Mr. Brady,
they are going to hang my brother, and you can save him. I've brought
you this money; please don't let my brother die,' she burst into tears.
It was a roll of two hundred and fifty dollars, which the poor girl had
begged in sums of five and ten dollars. The kind-hearted man heard her
story. 'They shall not hang your brother, my child,' said he, and
putting the roll of bills in an envelope, told her to take it to her
mother, and he would ask for it when he wanted it. The boy was cleared.
In Mr. Brady's parlor hangs an exquisite picture, by Durand, with a
letter on the back asking him to accept it as a mark of appreciation for
his generous kindness in defending this poor boy. Mr. Brady prized
_that_ picture....
"Once when, in the height of his appeal to the jury, a dog began barking
vigorously, he whirled around, shook his finger at the dog and said,
gravely, with the quickness of thought, 'I am Sir Oracle, and when I ope
my lips let no dog bark!'
"An Irishman once came to his office: 'And are yez Misther Brady?' 'I
am; come in, Patrick. What is it you wish?' 'I ax yer pardon; I oughtn't
to intrude upon yez,' 'But what is it, Patrick?' 'Well, yer honor, it
isn't for the likes o' me to be comin' troublin' yer honor.' 'But tell
me what you want, Pat.' 'Well, yer honor, I came to see ye about a
friend of mine as met wid an accident.' 'An accident?' said Mr. Brady;
'then why don't you go for a doctor?' 'Arrah, sure, you're the docther
for my friend; he had an accident which wants yer honor.' 'Well, what
_was_ it?' 'Well, yer honor, he was arristed for a thrifle of a
burglary, shure.' Quick as Mr. Brady was, with the readiness of his
race, for repartee, he sometimes met his match among his own countrymen.
He was once examining an unwilling witness who persistently called him
Mr. O'Brady. At length, even his proverbial good nature being a little
ruffled, he said to the witness: 'You need not call me Mr. O'Brady. I've
mended my name since I came here and dropped the O.' 'Have ye, now? 'Pon
my sowl it's a pity ye didn't mend yer manners at the same time.'"
In politics Mr. Brady was a Democrat of the States-Rights school, yet he
always maintained that it was the duty of the citizen to render the
promptest obedience to the General Government. At the outset of the late
war he gave his support to the Government in its war measures, though he
did not separate himself from the Democratic party. He was frequently
solicited by his friends to accept political honors, but he steadily
refused, saying that he wanted no honors outside of his profession.
In person Mr. Brady was slender and delicate in appearance. What
attracted the gazer at once was his massive head--a head which measured
in its circumference twenty-four and three-eighths inches. Age seemed to
have no effect upon his face. Severe mental labor in the course of years
took away some of the rosy hues of youth, but otherwise it continued as
fresh and as winning as when a boy.
Mr. Brady never married, but no one was more widely removed from the
typical old bachelor than he. If he had no family of his own, he was the
head of a family of devoted relatives, who gave him ample scope for the
exercise of the domestic affections which were so strong in him. Very
soon after entering upon the practice of his profession his parents
died, leaving his brother and five sisters, all much younger than
himself, helpless. The young lawyer at once declared that the care of
these dear ones should be his first thought, and he devoted himself to
his practice with redoubled energy, in order to provide for them. He
brought his personal expenses down to a low figure, and resolutely kept
them there, yet all the while he was lavish in his generosity to those
whom he loved. He once said to a friend who asked him why he had never
married: "When my father died he left five daughters, who looked to me
for support. All the affection which I could have had for a wife went
out to those sisters, and I have never desired to recall it." He
transferred a share of this affection to the children of those sisters
and of his brother, and was never so happy as when in their company. In
his will he mentions one of his nieces as his "dearly beloved Toot."
He was very fond of literature, especially of poetry, and devoted a
considerable portion of his time to literary efforts of his own. His
great fame as a lawyer so overshadowed the success he won in literature
that few besides himself knew how much pleasure the popularity of his
writings gave him.
In the exercise of his profession Mr. Brady won a large fortune. His
income was princely during the greater part of his life, but he saved
comparatively little. He delighted in giving to others. His relatives
were the constant recipients of substantial evidences of his affection
for them, and his charities to the poor were in keeping with his
generous nature. He could not look upon suffering unmoved, and "never
turned his face from any poor man."
His last appearance in public was at the Gerard dinner, where he was as
brilliant and genial as ever. He seemed to have a foreboding of his
approaching end, however, for the next day he said to one of his family:
"I feel that it is the last time I shall ever appear on a like public
occasion." His fears were prophetic. He was seized with an attack of
paralysis on the morning of the 9th of February, 1869, and breathed his
last at five o'clock in the afternoon of the same day. He died in the
communion of the Catholic Church, and was buried from St. Patrick's
Cathedral, in the city of New York. His death drew forth expressions of
sympathy and respect from all parts of the Union and from men of all
shades of opinion. All felt that a good and useful man, a great
advocate, and an incorruptible citizen had been taken away.
His was a happy fate. He died in the fullness of his fame, before age
had weakened his faculties or chilled his heart, and dying thus, it may
be said of him, as he once said of another, that he was "a man who had
no guile in his nature, and who died leaving no living creature to
rejoice at his death."
VII.
ARTISTS.