One of the most interestin’ side issues of the contest of next Tuesday is the election of a Justice of the Court of Common Pleas in place of the veteran Chief Justice Charles P. Daly, who retires under the act which prohibits any judge who reaches the age of seventy from any longer exercisin’ judicial functions. The reminiscences of the retirin’ veteran’s career are full of interest.
Where the Tribune buildin’ now stands there used to stand, long before Horace Greeley’s day, a carpenter’s shop where a boss mechanic by the name of Daly earned an honest and comfortable livin’. This Daly was a North of Ireland man, of the same kind of stock and stuff as A. T. Stewart, thrifty, industrious and shrewd, yet withal, genial and not uncultivated. He made money and was in a fair way to get moderately rich, when the boss carpenter did what we all do sooner or later–died, leavin’ his son to the care of a step-mother.
Young Daly, after his father’s death, left New York, and not findin’ just then anythin’ better to do, went to sea, shippin’ as a common sailor before the mast, and roughin’ it with the rest of the crew. Tirin’ of this hard life and hardtack, the young man returned to New York and became an apprentice to a trade, makin’ the usual agreement with his master to serve him for a certain number of years in consideration of bein’ thoroughly taught the trade in all its branches. His work took up all his days; but the young apprentice had his nights to himself, and bein’ of a literary turn of mind, joined a literary and debatin’ society, in which he soon became prominent.
A large number of the members of this society became in after years quite famous. Among them was Soule, afterwards the eminent publicist, who was considerably older than Daly and took a great likin’ to him. The course pursued by Soule to Daly illustrates forcibly the sincere friendship that often takes place between men, though hardly ever among women, and it also serves to illustrate characteristically the dispositions of the two friends.
Soule was struck with the practical shrewdness, combined with literary ability, of the younger man, and told him that he ought to become a lawyer, and offered to back up his advice in a direct way–by payin’ young Daly’s expenses while studyin’ law. But Daly, bein’ naturally of an independent turn, decidedly, though gratefully, refused to be laid under obligations, especially at that time, when he was under agreement with his master to serve his time at his trade.
The next year the master died, and once more Soule offered to defray Daly’s law student expenses. But here a new difficulty was in the way, a difficulty which meant a good deal to such a man as Daly, though it wouldn’t have meant anything to many other men. The Widow of Daly’s dead master was left in straitened circumstances and needed the services of her late husband’s apprentice to keep her from want. So Daly, as his original agreement with his master had eighteen months yet to run, felt himself bound alike in honor and gallantry to serve out his full term of apprenticeship, which he did, though by this time he had fully determined, sooner or later, to study law.
But the eighteen months soon passed and the apprentice was free to do with his life as he chose. Then for the third time the ever faithful and generous friend, Soule, renewed his original offer, and this time without any further fantastic scruples, Daly accepted it in the same full and frank spirit in which it was offered, and receivin’ the needed funds from his friend as a loan, devoted himself, heart and soul, day and night, to law. While a law student Daly lived at the rate of one hundred and fifty dollars a year, got through his studies rapidly, and bein’ admitted to the bar went into partnership with McElrath, the real founder of the Tribune, who had not at that date yet come across Horace Greeley. McElrath determined to go into journalism instead of law and wanted his partner, Daly, to join him in the new departure. Had he done so it is more than likely that New York would never have heard of Horace Greeley. But it was not to be. Daly stuck to the law, takin’ a partner in McElrath’s place by the name of Bloomfield, while McElrath switched off into journalism and discovered Horace Greeley.
As for Daly, he became, like almost every other lawyer, a politician for a while and finally, at Judge Inglis’ request, got elected to Inglis’ place as judge.
And as judge he made his mark in the Astor place riot trials. His course on this occasion was a surprise to everybody, especially to the rioters ‘emselves, who expected to escape this time as New York rioters had escaped time after time before.
It is safe to say that the Astor place riots made Judge Daly, yet his connection with ‘em was an accident, one of those lucky accidents which seldom happen to anybody save those who deserve their luck.
There was so much popular feelin’ involved in the Astor place riots that the judges did not like to take the responsibility of tryin’ the rioters. So they took the prima donna’s privilege and got sick. Recorder Talmage, who properly should have presided over the case, got taken very sick indeed. Daly, the youngest judge on the bench, was the only one who was not sick. So he had to try the case, assisted, as then was the custom, by two Aldermen who were elected to sit with the judge, one of the Aldermen bein’ a Democrat, the other bein’ a Whig.
It was taken for granted by the people at large that the rioters would never be punished and the Democratic Alderman made no secret of his sympathy with the rioters. But Daly had made up his mind to punish ‘em if he could, and, as he knew the Democratic Alderman was against him in this matter, he was anxious to find out just how the other Alderman felt.
But the Whig man never said a word from first to last, and threw all the responsibility of decision on Daly, who took the responsibility, got the rioters convicted and sent the leaders to the Penitentiary.
Daly’s course in this matter rendered him terribly unpopular in certain quarters. He would have been stoned in certain portions of the city, but in the long run it rebounded to his political credit.
Years later on, Judge Daly took part in a matter in which he was for a while even more unpopular than in the Astor place riot trials. I allude to the Trent affair, in which two prominent Southern sympathizers, Mason and Slidell, were taken by an American officer from a ship bearing the English flag. The English demanded restoration into their care of those two men, but Seward was at first decidedly opposed to givin’ ‘em up and the sentiment of the North sustained him. Had Seward persisted in his opposition, it is almost certain that the United States would have drifted into a war with England, and in this war probably the South might have gained European recognition.
But Daly went right on from New York to Washington and saw Seward. The next day he saw Seward again and the next day, and in these three interviews Daly contrived to change Seward’s views altogether. He had a hard time of it, Seward bein’ an obstinate man where his own opinions were concerned, but the judge conquered the statesmen at last; Seward changed his mind and his course. Mason and Slidell were handed back to England, and the most tryin’ crisis of American History was passed safely.
It strikes me that New York and the country are under decided obligations to Chief Justice Daly.
[Editor’s notes: Many American statesmen and diplomats influenced Secretary of State William H. Seward’s response to Great Britain that diffused the crisis; chief among them were Senator Charles Sumner and minister to the UK Charles Francis Adams.
Daly, who was also a proud Irishman, was mainly concerned over the threat made by the Confederacy that captured Union officers–including Daly’s friend, Colonel Corcoran of New York’s 69th Infantry–would be executed if Mason and Slidell were not released. Daly believed this would demoralize the 69th and other Irish-American Union regiments.]
