James Byrne

If one of the measures of the trust and confidence of his fellows is the offices which a man is called upon to occupy, then by this measure James Byrne must be reckoned one of the first citizens of the town. For he was not only a distinguished lawyer; he became President of the Bar Association, and Councillor of the American Law Institute. He was not only interested in education; he became Regent, Vice-Chancellor, and Chancellor of the University of the State of New York; and he was a member of the Harvard Corporation. He entered Harvard College at the age of sixteen, and graduated in 1877, cum laude, ranking ninth in scholarship in a class of 196. Among those who surpassed him, the only familiar name is George Edward Woodberry, who stood third. Byrne came to New York from the Harvard Law School in 1882, and went to work for Walter S. Carter. Carter happened to be a member of the bar, but his real talents lay in selecting young men to work for him; and, besides Byrne, he employed as clerks Charles E. Hughes, George W. Wickersham, Paul D. Cravath, Robert Grier Monroe, and others who later became leaders of the bar. Byrne lived with Monroe until he married, in 1896; and they practiced law, and labored in the County Democracy, and sat at the feet of William R. Grace, and fought for free trade and sound money. The world was young, and there were giants in it.

After a time, it came to pass that the graduates of the Harvard Law School beat a path to the door of Byrne’s office, and it was esteemed above all others as a place to learn and work. Thus Byrne attracted the likeliest young men, beat them into shape on his anvil, and together they ran a superlatively competent law office. But Byrne was the deus ex machina. He was what made it all go. He worked with an exceeding intensity, and drove himself and all the others without mercy. His own travail in composition was great and exhausting. Stories of the atrocities he inflicted on his young associates grew and circulated; but these appeared only to increase the clamor for employment from the prospective victims at the Harvard Law School. In truth, it was a privilege to associate with Byrne on any terms whatever. He was warm and violent and unjust. He was keen and sparkling and exciting. Above all, Byrne was loyal—not only emotionally, but with his head. And this led him into situations which were sometimes uncomfortable and sometimes hilarious. All the strata of his office below the lawyers were solid Irish. The stenographers, file clerks, office boys were named Rooney, Sullivan, O’Toole, Leary, Cahill. . . . When Byrne was under pressure he would summarily discharge a dozen of them in a day. Then they would all be quietly re-employed, out in the hall, by someone who had heard the explosion.

In 1916 he supported Charles E. Hughes for President. Byrne defiantly gave lots of reasons for this, but never the right one: that Hughes was an old and intimate friend who had his confidence. This brief sojourn among Republicans fretted Byrne sadly, but it was a source of secret amusement for his friends.

He was difficult to know intimately. He was completely unperturbed by a new idea, and would examine a problem with rapid apprehension. When he came to express his reaction, however, instead of proceeding in an orderly manner stating the reasons for his conclusion, he would assume that all had seen it as he had himself, and commence his discussion in the middle—somewhat to the confusion of the less alert. His avenues of approach to the subjects which interested him always seemed new and stimulating. His eye was bright; his voice was pleasant and clear; he was never afraid.

Geoffrey Parsons
1942 Century Memorials