University of Virginia Library

17. MR. TEE AND MR. GEE.

One of the most distinguished lawyers in the State of Mississippi,
was W. Y. Gee, Esq. He was distinguished not
less for his legal learning than for the acuteness and subtlety
of his intellect. He was fond of exercising his talents
in legal speculations, and was pleased when some new and
difficult point was presented for solution. John S. Tee,
Esq., was not of that sort. He was a man of facts and figures,
and practical and stern realities. He cared nothing
about a lawsuit except for the proofs and what appeared on
the back of the execution, and thought the best Report ever
made of a case was that made by the sheriff. He was completely
satisfied if the Fi-fa was. he was doing a large
collecting business; he prided himself more on the skill with
which he worked on a promissory note than he would have
done if he had pinned Pinkney, like a beetle, to the wall,
in McCollough vs. The State of Maryland, or made Webster
“take water” in the great Dartmouth College case.
What seemed to him “the perfection of human reason,” was
not the common law, but that part of the Statute law which

gave the remedy by attachment, and which statute was, as
he was fond of saying, “to be liberally construed in favor
of justice and for the prevention of fraud:” and he thought
the perfection of professional practice under the “perfection
of reason,” was, to get a skulking debtor fixed so as to give
an opportunity for starting the remedy after him, and thus
securing a bad or doubtful debt out of property which
might otherwise be “secreted,” or squandered in paying
other debts, for which the debtor might have a sickly fancy.

Squire Tee was a great favorite of Northern creditors,
and deservedly. He clung to them through thick and thin,
through good report and through bad report, in hard times
and in easy times, and through all times. He “kept his
loyalty, his love, his zeal” in a perpetual fervor. His confidence
in them was unbounded. Nothing could either increase
or diminish it. He would have sacrificed his own
interest to theirs—he did, no doubt, frequently: and the
more he gave of service to their cause—by the usual law of
charity—the more he was capable of giving—the widow's
cruse of oil grew by the giving to two widows' cruses
of oil.

Among other things, he practised an intimate acquaintance
with the facts of his case. No man was more sedulous
in the preparation of proofs. He knew that however
well a case was put up on the papers, it was of but little
avail if it was not also well put up in the evidence. He
liked evidence—a plenty of it, and good what there was of
it: better too much than not enough;—he liked to converse

with the witnesses himself—to know exactly what they
would prove: it pleased him to hear them rehearse, and
then it prepared him for the coming on of the piece when
he could act as prompter. He was an amateur in evidence;
he loved it as an antiquarian an old fossil—as a machinist a
new invention—as a politician a new humbug; it was a
thing to be admired for itself—it had both an intrinsic and
an extrinsic value. Receiving many claims when the times
were at the hardest, he found himself frequently opposed by
the ablest counsel of the State; and the incident we are to
relate of him occurred on one of those occasions.

It should have been stated that, as in collecting cases,
many of the clients lived at a great distance from the
debtor, the attorney acted, in such instances, as the general
agent of the creditor, to a great extent: and, in preparing a
case for trial, had to do the work of both client and counsel.
Mr. Tee was often brought into correspondence with the
debtors afterwards to be made defendants. Opportunities
afforded by such relations, it will readily be perceived, could
very easily be improved into occasions for eliciting such
facts as would, in no few instances, be very useful evidence
on the trial. In this way, Mr. Tee's research and industry
had been rewarded by a vast amount of useful information
of which his duty to his clients made him not at all penurious,
when it became their interest to have it turned into
testimony. He had a good memory, a good manner, an excellent
voice and a fine person; and he knew of no more
pleasing way of putting to account a good memory, a good

manner, an excellent voice and a fine person, than in delivering
testimony in open court for a Northern client. He had
one advantage over most witnesses; he knew something
about the facts before he heard the parties' statements: he
paid the most particular attention with the view of having
matters definitely fixed in his mind, and then, being a lawyer
and a good judge of the article proof, he was able to refer
his statement to the proper points, and to know the relevancy
and bearing of the facts on the case. He was fluent, easy,
unembarrassed, though somewhat earnest of manner and
speech, and had a lively talent for affidavit, elocution and a
considerable power of compendious, terse and vigorous narrative
in that department of forensic eloquence. It affords
us pleasure to be able to pay this deserved meed of justice
to an old friend and associate. Some men are niggardly of
praise. Not so this author.

This marked fidelity to the interests of his clients had
made Mr. Tee somewhat familiar with the witness box, and
the result had almost universally been a speedy disposal of
the matter involved in the controversy in favor of his client.

The bar, not always the most confiding of men, nor the
least querulous, had begun to find fault with this euthanasia,
as Mr. C. J. Ingersoll, in his Bunyan-like style, expresses
it: they wanted a lawsuit to die the old way, and not by
chloroform process,—the old bull-baiting fashion—fainting
off from sheer exhaustion, or overpowered by sheer strength
and lusty cuffs, kicking and fighting to the last. And so they

complained and averred it was to their great damage, wherefore
they sued Tee to discontinue proceedings of this sort,
but he refused, and possibly, still refuses.

A suit had been brought by Tee for a leading house in
New-York, in the U. S. Court, on a bill of exchange drawn
or indorsed by a merchant, and W. Y. Gee, Esq., employed to
defend it. The amount was considerable, but the case promised
to be more interesting as involving a new and difficult
point in the Law Merchant upon the question of notice.

The case had been opened for the plaintiff—the bill, protest,
depositions, foreign statutes, and so forth, read, and one
or two witnesses examined. The Court had taken a recess
for dinner—it being understood or taken for granted that the
plaintiff had closed his case. The defendant either had no
witnesses or else preferred submitting the case without them,
the point on which Mr. Gee relied having been brought out
by an unnecessary question propounded by Tee to his own
witness.

After the meeting of the Court, Mr. Gee, who was a little
near-sighted, was seen before the bar, leisurely arranging
a small library of books he had collected, and by the aid of
which he was to argue the point on the notice. Having accomplished
this to his satisfaction, he leaned his head on his
hand and was absorbed in profound cogitation—like an Episcopal
clergyman before the sermon. The court interrupted
him in this meditation by announcing its readiness to proceed
with the cause. Gee rose and remarked to the Court that

the defence was one of pure law, and he should raise the only
question he meant to make by a demurrer to the plaintiff's
evidence. “Not until the plaintiff gets through his proof, I
reckon,” said Mr. Tee. “Why, I thought you had rested,”
replied Mr. Gee. “Yes,” said Tee, “I did rest a little, and
am now tired resting, and will proceed to labor—Clerk, SWEAR
ME.”

Gee jumped from his seat and rushed towards Tee—
“Now Tee,” said he—“just this one time, if you please, forbear,
for Heaven's sake—come now, be reasonable—it is the
prettiest point as it stands I ever saw—the principle is really
important—don't spoil it, Tee.” But Tee, fending Gee off
with one hand, held out the other for the book. Gee grew
more earnest—“Tee, Tee, old fellow—I say now, look here,
Tee, don't do this, this time—just hold off for a minute—
come, listen to reason—now come, come, let this case be an
exception—you said you were through—if you will just stand
off I won't demur you out any more.”

But Tee was not to be held off—he repeated, “Clerk,
swear me, I must discharge my professional duties.”

Gee retired in disgust, not waiting to hear the result—
barely remarking, that if it came to that, Tee would cover
the case like a confession of judgment and the statute of Jeefails
besides. We believe he was not mistaken; for his
affidavy carried the case sailing beyond gun-shot of Gee's
batteries.

Gee contented himself with giving notice to Tee that he

should require him for the future to give him notice when he
meant to testify in his cases, as he wished to be saved the
trouble of bringing books and papers into Court. To which
Tee replied he might consider a general notice served upon
him then.