Vol. VIII.
No. 2.
BOSTON.
February, 1896.
THOMAS BARTLETT. By Wendell P. Stafford. THE fame of a unique advocate lingers among the fading traditions of the Ver mont Bar. Through all this country-side, where he was known, Thomas Bartlett is still a " name to conjure with." He was born June 18, 1808, studied law with Isaac Fletcher in Lyndon, Ver mont, practiced in this section for forty years or so, was sent to Congress in 1851, and died Sept. 12, 1876. Meagre as this statement is, it will be enough for our pur pose. Even these dates will have no inter est for most of those who read these pages. If anything about him can hold their atten tion it will be a delineation of the orator himself. And a remarkable orator he cer tainly was. Deficient in early education, with many and gross faults of style when judged by the purest standards, there is yet no doubt that, as a jury advocate, he spoke at all times effectively, and often with genuine eloquence and power. He had pre cisely the make-up of an orator. Largehearted, generous, sensitive, sympathetic, impulsive, woman-like in tenderness, leonine in anger — laughter and tears alike at his command, and as for language — well, he had kissed the blarney stone. With hap pier fortune, with severer training, with firmer self-control he might have been, un less all reports about him lie, among the greatest orators that ever spoke. In the first place he had those physical advantages which Wendell Phillips used to say, in speaking of O'Connell, are " half the bat tle. " Of royal height ( six feet four, I think), nobly proportioned, with grave and
striking features, with a halting step and a palsied arm, infirmities which, as he man aged them, really increased the impressiveness of his bearing, — he had only to " ad dress himself to motion like as he would speak " to find his audience half won already in interest and sympathy. And then, when he did speak, a voice of unsurpassed strength, depth and richness did the rest. Fluent to a fault, almost, yet carefully discriminating in the choice of words, he poured before his hearers, often unlettered though they were, his wealth of diction, imagery, allusion, heed less of any fear that it might prove beyond their comprehension. This does not mean that he did not gauge his argument to his hearers. He did. Before a back district jury, in some justice's court, he could be a match in coarseness for Swift or Smollett, or Rabelais himself. Nothing was too mal odorous for his use, if it was really of use. But he never forgot that men often admire most what they possess the least of, — that in a speech fine language and lofty senti ment may appeal strikingly to those who have formed but a slender acquaintance with either in every-day life, and he rarely failed to flatter his listeners by a liberal display of both. How many make the opposite mistake. When a New Hampshire politician rose to address the little town of Carroll in that state, and being the worse for liquor, began, "Fellow citizens, I have rosen " — then stopped, dimly conscious that something was wrong, his colleague on the platform whispered impatiently, " D—n it, Jake, go 15
