AMERICANIZING LOUISIANA.

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.