FIRST COURT HOUSE BUILT IN THE “NEW WORLD WEST OF THE ALLEGHANIES.”
Erected at Jonesboro, Washington county, Tennessee, in the year 1784.
At the November term, 1785, the following was entered:
The Court Ordered that Col’o Charles Roberson be allowed fifty pounds Current money for the building of the Court House in the Town of Jones Borough.
As this was the first court house erected in what is now Tennessee, and the one in which Andrew Jackson, John McNairy, Archibald Roane, William Cocke, David Campbell and others began their professional careers; and in and about which John Sevier, though not a lawyer, rendered so much and such invaluable service in laying the foundations of our state, and its civil as well as military institutions, I have had it reproduced, and present a picture of it in this little volume. From what has been said, and from the records which have been quoted, the imagination can picture the scenes and proceedings occurring in this “temple of justice”—for such it was, although made of logs “hewed down” and covering “hung on with pegs.”
These early records challenge comparison, in spirit, form and substance, with any others made during the same period in any community, country or state in the United States. No patriotic, intelligent people can read them without being filled with admiration and inspired with respect and reverence for the men who made them. They said, on the first day of the first term of the court, the court must be respected; to the cruel son, you shall not ill-treat your father, though he be a criminal; to the vagrant without a “pass or recommendation,” you must give security for your behavior or leave the community; to the man who had abandoned his wife, you must return to your family; to the strong and influential, you must render unto the widow her own, or we will force you to do so by fines that will make you glad to obey; to the tax-dodger, you shall pay your proportion of the taxes; to a member of the court, no matter what your position is, if you cruelly beat your neighbor, we will take from you a large part of your wealth and turn it into the public treasury; to the man who was “throwing out speeches” calculated to destroy the influence of the court for good, you must not malign the court, no matter when nor where—if you do, we will lay the heavy hand of summary punishment upon you; to such as were stirring up sedition and opposition to “the common cause of liberty,” you shall not remain openly and peaceably in the community without giving security for your good conduct; to thieves, we will fine, whip, brand and hang you; to tories, we will confiscate your property and imprison you; to the British, we will meet and fight you, on every field from the mountains to the sea; to the Indians, we will fight you too, from the mountains to the lakes and the gulf. And they did it all. Who could have done more? They were heroes, one and all, but history, it seems, has long since given them over to oblivion.
Although, in 1788, they had passed through a “general insurrection of the times,” as chronicled by the clerk of the court under the state of Franklin, and had no doubt come out somewhat demoralized, still the habit of doing what they believed to be right was so strongly imbedded in their natures that, at a term of court (February, 1788) held after its reorganization following the Franklin collapse, they imposed upon and collected from one of the most prominent citizens of the county a fine for swearing in the court-yard. The record recites that “Leroy Taylor came into Court and pays into the Office the fine prescribed by Acts of Assembly for one profane Oath which was accepted of. Ordered therefore that he be discharged. 21s.” Leroy Taylor was elected from Washington county as a delegate to the constitutional convention of 1796, and was kept in the General Assembly almost continuously for eight or ten sessions after Tennessee was admitted into the Union; he was the author and introducer of the first resolution offered in the General Assembly (in 1801), raising a committee to prepare a design for the great seal of the state of Tennessee—but, with all his prominence, he could not with impunity make use of even “one profane oath” in hearing of the county court of Washington county.
The achievements of these old pioneers will run, however, “like the covenants of warranty with the land” they loved so well. A few glimmering memories, a few dim traditions, some scattered fragments of stories—these are all that is left (outside the old court records alluded to) of many of these men, every one of whom was a giant in morals and a colossus in intellect, as compared with many modern pigmies whose little deeds have been magnified into great achievements.
If the structures of state, county and municipal institutions in Tennessee, and the social fabric as well, had been kept in harmony with the pure, simple, steadfast and enduring foundations laid by John Sevier and his contemporaries, what models we would have today for the world to imitate. Are we wiser or better than they? Read and study these old records: then answer.