CHAPTER XXIV.
A LAW-SUIT (TO BE SKIPPED).
A young lover's first kiss, a young hunter's first deer, and a young lawyer's first case, doubtless linger in their several memories, as events of moment.
Bart had tried his first case before a justice of the peace, been beaten, and was duly mortified. It is very likely he was on the wrong side, but he did not think so; and if he had thought so, he would not have been fully consoled. A poorer advocate than he could have convinced himself that he was right, and fail, as he did, to convince the court. It was a case of little importance to any but the parties. To them, every case is of the gravest moment. He acquitted himself creditably: showed that he understood the case, examined his witnesses, and presented it clearly.
Others came to him, and he advised with caution and prudence; and as Fall approached, he was in request in various small matters; men were surprised at the modesty of his deportment, and the gentleness of his speech. Instead of provoking his opponents, and answering back, as was to be expected of him, he was conciliating and forbearing.
A case finally arose, of unusual importance in the domestic tribunals; it attracted much attention, helped to bring him forward in a small way, and gained him much reputation among some persons whose esteem was enviable.
Old man Cole, "Old King Cole," as the boys derisively called him, an inoffensive little man, with a weak, limp woman for a wife, and three or four weaker and limper children, had for many years vegetated on one corner of an hundred-and-sixty acres of woods, having made but a small clearing, and managed in some unknown way to live on it. His feeble condition exposed him to imposition, and he was the butt for the unthinking, and victim of the unscrupulous and unruly. For some years his land, a valuable tract, had been coveted by several greedy men, and especially by one Sam Ward. Failing to induce Cole to sell what right it was admitted he had, Ward, as was supposed, attempted to intimidate, and finally to annoy Cole to such an extent, that for peace and safety he would willingly part with his possession. He was one of the earliest settlers, had become attached to his land, and declined to be driven off.
A lawless set of young men and boys were Ward's agents, although his connection with them was never made very apparent, and had committed various depredations upon the old man; until one night they made a raid upon his premises, cut down several fruit-trees, filled up his spring, tore down his old barn, and committed various acts of trespass of a grave character. It would seem as if some intelligence controlled their movements; no act criminal by the statutes of Ohio had been committed, and, so far as was suspected, none but those under age had been concerned in the affair.
Poor old Cole, an object of derision, was barely within common sympathy; and living remote, few knew of, and fewer cared for his misfortunes. He applied for advice to Bart, who was indignant at the recital, and entered upon an investigation of the outrage with great energy. He was satisfied that the fathers of the trespassers could not be held for their acts, that no breach of the criminal laws had been committed; but that the boys themselves could be made liable in an action, and that on failure to pay the judgment, they could themselves be taken in execution and committed to jail. He at once commenced a suit for the trespass before a magistrate, against all whom he suspected.
The commencement of the suit caused greater excitement then the perpetration of the outrage. Many of the young men belonged to respectable families, while many were old offenders, who had been permitted to escape for fear of provoking graver misdemeanors. It was known that Bart had taken up the case, and there was a feeling that he had at least the courage to encounter the dangerous wrath of the young scamps; the only ground of apprehension was that he had mistaken the law. The popular impression was that an action could not be maintained against minors.
On the return-day of the summons Barton appeared, and demanded a jury, then allowable, and the time for trial was fixed for the fifth day afterwards.
In that day, with the exception of one or two small lawyers at Chardon, and Ford at Burton, there were none within twenty-five miles of Newbury, and the legal field was gleaned in the magistrates' courts, as in all new countries, by pettifoggers, of whom nearly every township was made luminous with one. Of these, the acknowledged head was Brace. In ordinary life he was a very good sort of a man, not without capacity, but conceited, obstinate, and opinionated; he never had any law learning. In his career before justices of the peace, he was bold, adroit, unscrupulous, coarse, browbeating, and sometimes brutal; anything that occurred to his not uninventive mind, as likely in any way to help him on or out, he resorted to without hesitation. At this time he was in full career, and was constantly employed, going into two or three counties, occasionally meeting members of the profession, who held him in detestation, and whom he was as likely to drive out of court as he was to be worsted by them.
He had been employed by the young scamps to defend them. He and Bart had already met, and the latter was worsted in the case, and had received from Brace the usual Billingsgate. He was on hand well charged on the day for the appearance of the defendants, and was at no pains to conceal the contempt he felt for his young opponent.
Bart said no more than the occasion demanded, and seemingly paid no attention to Brace.
The magistrate, a man of plain, hard sense, adjourned the case to a large school-house, and invited Judge Markham to sit in, and preside at the trial, to which the Judge consented, which secured a decorous and fair hearing.
On the day, parties, witnesses, court, jury, and counsel, were on hand—a larger crowd than Newbury had seen for years. The case was called and the jury sworn, when Brace arose, and with a loud nourish demanded that the plaintiff be nonsuited, on the ground of the nonage of the defendants, and concluded by expressing his surprise at the ignorance of the plaintiff's counsel: everybody knew that a minor could not be sued; he even went so far as to express his pity for the plaintiff. Bart answered that it did not appear that any of the defendants were under age. If they were infants, and wanted to escape on the cry of baby, they must plead it, if their counsel knew what that meant; so that the plaintiff might take issue upon it, and the court be informed of the facts. The court held this to be the law, and Brace filed his plea of infancy. Bart then read from the Ohio statutes that when a minor was sued in an action of tort, as in this case, the court should appoint a guardian ad litem, and the parol should not demur; and he moved the court to appoint guardians ad litem, for the defendants.
Brace's eyes sparkled; and springing to his feet, he thundered out: "The parol shall not demur—the parol shall not demur. I have got this simpleton where I wanted him! I didn't 'spose he was fool enough to run into this trap; I set it on purpose for him: anybody else would have seen it; anything will catch him. The case can go no farther; the phrase, may it please the court, is Latin, and means that the case shall be dismissed. The parol, the plaintiff shall not demur, shall not have his suit. Why didn't Ford explain this matter to this green bumpkin, and save his client the costs?"
Barton reminded the court that the statute made it the duty of the court to appoint guardians ad litem, which was a declaration that the case was to go on; if it was to stop, no guardians were needed. Brace had said the terms were Latin; he presumed that his Latin was like his law; he thought it was old law French. He produced a law—dictionary, from which it appeared that the meaning was, the case should not be delayed, till the defendants were of age. Guardians should be appointed for them, and the case proceed, and so the court ruled.
Bart went up immensely in popular estimation. Any man who knew a word of Latin was a prodigy. Bart not only knew Latin, but the difference between that and old law French. Who ever heard of that before? and he had lived among them from babyhood, and they now looked upon him in astonishment. "It does beat hell, amazingly!" said Uncle Josh, aside.
After brief consultation the court appointed the fathers of the defendants their guardians, when Bart remarked that his learned and very polite opponent having found nurses for his babies, he would proceed with the case, and called his witnesses.
Against two or three of the ringleaders, the evidence was doubtful. When Bart moved to discharge three of the younger of the defendants, Brace opposed this. Bart asked him if he was there to oppose a judgment in favor of his own clients? The court granted his motion; when Bart put the young men on the stand as witnesses, and proved his case conclusively against all the rest.
What wonderful strategy this all seemed to be to the gaping crowd; and all in spite of Brace, whom they had supposed to be the most adroit and skilful man in the world; and who, although he objected, and blustered, and blowed, really appeared to be a man without resources of any sort.
Barton rested his case.
Brace called his witnesses, made ready to meet a case not made by the plaintiff, and Bart quietly dissmissed them one after the other without a word. Then Ward, who had kept in the background, was called, in the hope to save one of the defendants. Him Bart cross-examined, and it was observed that after a question or two he arose and turned upon him, and plied him with questions rapid and unexpected, until he was embarrassed and confused. Brace, by objections and argument, intended as instructions to the witness, only increased his perplexity, and he finally sat down with the impression that he had made a bad exhibition of himself, and had damaged the case.
It was now midnight, when the evidence was closed, and Barton proposed to submit the case without argument. Brace objected. He wanted to explain the case, and clear up the mistakes, and expose the rascalities of the plaintiff's witnesses; and the trial was adjourned until the next morning.
When the case was resumed the following day, Bart, in a clear, simple way, stated his case, and the evidence in support of it, making two or three playful allusions to his profound and accomplished opponent.
Brace followed on full preparation for the defence. Of course it was obvious, even to him, that he was hopelessly beaten; and mortified and enraged, he emptied all the vials of his wrath and vituperation upon the head of Bart, his client and witnesses, and sat down, at the end of an hour, exhausted.
When Bart arose to reply, he seemed to stand a foot taller than he ever appeared before. Calmly and in a suppressed voice he restated his case, and, with a few well—directed blows, demolished the legal aspects of the defence. He then turned upon his opponent; no restraint was on him now. He did not descend to his level, but cut and thrust and flayed him from above. Even the Newbury mob could now see the difference between wit and vulgarity, and were made to understand that coarseness and abuse were not strength. His address to the court was superb; and when he finally turned to the jury, with a touching sketch of the helplessness of the plaintiff, and of the lawless violence of the defendants, who had long been a nuisance, and had now become dangerous to peace and good order, and submitted the case, the crowd looked and heard with open-mouthed wonder. Had a little summer cloud come down, with thunder, lightning and tempest, they would not have been more amazed. When he ceased, a murmur, which ran into applause, broke from the cool, acute, observing and thinking New Englanders and their children, who were present.
Judge Markham promptly repressed the disorder, and in a few words gave the case to the jury, who at once returned a verdict for the largest amount within the court's jurisdiction; judgment was promptly rendered, execution for the bodies of the defendants issued, and they were arrested.
The excitement had now become intense. Here were half a score of young men in the hands of the law, under orders to be committed to jail. No one remembered such a case in Newbury. Breaches of the law, in that usually orderly community, were unknown, until the acts which gave rise to this suit, and some fainter demonstrations of the same character. The poor youths and their friends gathered helpless and anxious about Brace, who could suggest nothing. Finally, Barton came forward, and offered to take the promissory notes of the parties and their fathers, for the amount of the judgment and costs, and release them from arrest, which offer they gladly accepted, with many thanks to their prosecutor; and the blow which he thus dealt was the end of disorder in Newbury.
For the time being Cole was left at peace, and enjoyed more consideration than had ever been conceded to him before. He was destined, however, not long after, to appear in the higher court, to defend the doubtful title of his property, as will appear in the progress of this narrative.
As a general rule, the people of new communities are more curious and interested in law—suits, and trials, and lawyers, than in almost anything else to which their attention can be called. Lawyers, especially, are the objects of their admiration and astonishment. Unaccustomed to mental labor, conscious of an inability to perform it, and justly regarding it as holding the first place in human effort, the power and skill to conduct and maintain a long-continued mental conflict, to pursue and examine witnesses, answer questions as well as ask them, make and meet objections, make impromptu speeches and argue difficult propositions, and, finally, to deliver off-hand, an address of hours in length, full of argument, illustration, sometimes interspersed with humor, wit, and pathos, and sometimes really eloquent, is by them always regarded, and not without reason, as a marvel that cannot be witnessed without astonishment.
And here was this young Bart Ridgeley, who had been nowhere, had read next to nothing, whom they had esteemed a lazy, shiftless fellow, without capability for useful and thrifty pursuits, and who had in their presence, for the last two days, taken up a hopeless case, and conducted it against a man who, in their hearts, they had supposed was more than a match for Joshua R. Giddings or Chief Justice Hitchcock, beaten and baffled him, and finally thrashed him out of all semblance of an advocate.
When the case was over, and he came out, how quickly they made way for him, and eagerly closed in behind and followed him out, and looked, and watched, and waited for a word or a look from him. "What did I tell you?" "What do you say now?" "I allus knew it was in 'im." "He'll do," etc., rained about him as he went into the open air.
Greer had attended the trial, and was one of the warmest admirers of Bart's performance. Nobody knew much about this man, except that he was often on hand, well dressed, drove good horses, was open, free and pleasant, with plenty of leisure and money, always well received, and often sought after. He had, at the first, taken a real liking to Bart; and now, when the latter came out, he pleasantly approached him, and offered to carry him home in his carriage, an offer the tired youth was glad to accept.
On their way, he mentioned to Bart something about a very profitable and pleasant business, conducted by a few high-minded and honorable gentlemen, without noise or excitement, which consisted in the sale of very valuable commodities. They employed agents—young, active, and accomplished men, and on terms very remunerative, and he thought it very likely that if Bart would enter their service, it could be made much for his advantage to do so; he would call again after Bart had thought it over.
His remarks made an impression on Bart's mind, and excited his curiosity, and he remembered what Henry had said about Greer when at home.
Judge Markham had been very much impressed by Bart's management of his case; perhaps to say that he was very much astonished, would better express its effect upon him. He had always given him credit for a great deal of light, ready, dashing talent, but was wholly unprepared for the exhibition of thought, reflection, and logical power which he had witnessed; the young man's grave, cautious and dignified manner won much upon him, and he was surprised when he reflected how slender was the ground of his dislike, and how that dislike had somehow disappeared. Then he recalled the favorable estimate which his wife had always put upon the qualities of Bart, and that he had usually found her opinions of persons accurate. The frank appeal of Bart to him was manly, and almost called for some acknowledgment; and he felt that the invisible barrier between them was unpleasant. After all, was not this young man one of the few destined to distinction, and on all accounts would it not be well to give him countenance? And in this the Judge was not wholly politic. He felt that it would be a good thing to do, to serve this struggling young man, and he came out of the crowded room with the settled purpose of taking Bart home to his mother's, if he would ride with him, let what would come of it. He would frankly tell him what he thought of his conduct of his case, and at least open the way to renewed intercourse.
He was detained for a moment, to answer questions, and got out just in time to see Bart, apparently pleased, get into Greer's carriage and ride away. The Judge looked thoughtful at this; and a close observer would have noticed a serious change in the expression of his face.
Of course he was well and intimately known to all parties present, and his frank and cordial manners left him always open to the first approach. He listened to the comments upon the trial, which all turned upon Bart's efforts, and the Judge could easily see that the young advocate had at once become the popular idol. He was asked what he thought of Bart's speech, and replied that one could hardly judge of a single effort, but that the same speech in the higher courts would undoubtedly have gained for its author much reputation, and that if Bart kept on, and did himself justice, he was certainly destined to high distinction. It was kind, judicious, and all that was deserved, but it was not up to the popular estimate, and one remarked that "the Judge never did like him"; another, "that the Judge was afraid that Julia would take a liking to Bart, and he hoped she would"; and a third, "that Bart was good enough for her, but he never did care for girls, who were all after him."
How freely the speech of the common people runs!