ROBERT JOSEPH GANTT
Date of first writing Feb. 15, 1939.
Name of person interviewed - Robert Joseph
Gantt
Address Spartanburg,
S.C.
Occupation Attorney
Name of writer D. A. Russell
"I’m not making a lot of money, but I
live well, huh? Financially, I don’t guess I would be called a
successful lawyer, but I’ve never been hungry, and my home is my
own, huh? I owe a little money, but it’s not pressing. I don’t have
to worry like some people I know, huh? "
Robert Joseph Gantt, who, in point of
service, is the third oldest member of the Spartanburg bar, is a
typical country lawyer. There is no "put on" about Bob Gantt. He’s
just "the judge" to all of his acquaintances in Spartanburg, and has
received the title during all the years since he served as a city
magistrate in Spartanburg for twelve years, beginning in 1905. He’s
"plain as an old shoe," if you please, and he knows it,
and, furthermore, likes it!
No, he doesn’t make much
money, to-be true, but he doesn’t worry. On some days he makes
as much as $50--"when business is good"-- and most of the time
he is satisfied if he picks up a case that will net him $5 or $10
for his services. During the present hard times, he will
average $30 a week, sometimes more, most often less. The estimate is
his own. There are days, however, when no money is forthcoming, and
clients are scarce. He makes an persistent effort to secure all of
his legal fee from his client in advance, but failing in this, he
will ask for at least half of it as a "down payment." If he fails in
that effort, then he will consent to wait until his client has a pay
day, that is, if he is convinced that his client has a habit of
receiving weekly or monthly pay envelopes. To reach Judge Gantt’s
office you go up a flight of stairs that give with every step taken,
enter a dark hallway, and turn to the first door on the right. [His
office?] is not the type you would expect to find being used by a
man of his [acknowledged ability?]. Seven cabinets of law books,
many of them of much value, almost crowd him out of the window into
West Main Street. You can see that the ceiling was once covered with
yellow paper, and that the walls were at one time calcimined in
green, long ago faded. He uses an old walnut desk that he says is
over sixty years old, and it is scattered over with papers. Nothing
is arranged. It is a picture of a country editor’s desk. The dust
has settled on most of the papers thereon. Hanging directly over his
desk is a framed picture of Senator J.L.M. Irby, of South Carolina,
wearing a campaign hat. Nearby, a frame holds the diploma Judge
Gantt received at the University of Georgia in the nineties, but it
is necessary for you to part the dust with your fingers before being
able to read it. Apparently, there is no janitor service in the
building he occupies, or at least, not for his single
room.
In a corner of the room is a small sink,
which is badly in need of washing. Above the sink is nailed a
ten-cent mirror. A soiled towel hangs from a nail nearby. On a shelf
to the left of the wash basin are two glasses, a box of soda, and a
large bottle of kidney pills. There is [a?] coal bin in the room,
and a drum of kerosene, partially hidden by a curtain. The room is
heated by a small laundry heater. A pan of water is on top of the
heater. There is a trash can beside his desk that is forever empty,
since the uncarpeted carpeted floor is used for unwanted papers.
Occasionally he sweeps out his office, but only when he feels that
he has to in order to clear a path for his own entrance. There are
three chairs, one of them being an old-fashioned rocker more than
forty years old which he says he made himself.
If you ask him the age of the old law
books on the shelves, he will tell you that many of them are over a
hundred years old. Then, he will get up from his rocker, go to a
cabinet and hand you a book that is covered with dust, titled, "The
Symboleography—Newly Corrected and Amended and Verie Much Enlarged
in All Severall Treaties. Printed for the Companie of
Stationers-1618. Cum Privilegio." Judge Gantt tells you that he
could, if need be, sell this particular book for quite a sum, but
that he will not do so "unless the wolf comes to the door,
huh?"
Judge Gantt was born at Elbertan,
Georgia, on May 15, 1872, the son of T, Larry Gantt, a country
newspaper editor, and founder of the [Oglethorpe Echo?] at
Lexington, Georgia. His father was once a power in Georgia politics,
and after he came to Spartanburg in 1891 to establish The Piedmont
Headlight, he became a staunch supporter of Ben Tillman, and
remained so until his death in 1933. For years his influence was
felt in politics in the Palmetto State.
Practically all of Judge Gantt’s boyhood
was spent in Georgia. The family moved to Athens, Ga., when Larry
Gantt’s purchased the Athens Banner and the Southern Watchman,
combining the two papers under the name of the Banner-Watchman.
Judge Gantt had attended and graduated from the University of
Georgia, and he came with his father to Spartanburg when the latter
began publication of the Piedmont Headlight. Shortly after coming to
Spartanburg, however, young Gantt, through the friendship of his
father with Hoke Smith, of Georgia, then Secretary of the interior
Department in Grover Cleveland’s cabinet, received an appointment to
the Interior Department at Washington.
His salary was $100 per month. Gantt
found that his closest friend in the Interior Department was
Josephus Daniels, of Raleigh, N.C., afterwards editor of the Raleigh
News & Observer, and later Secretary of the Navy in the cabinet
of Woodrow Wilson, war-time President. Mr. Daniels was at that time
chief clerk of the Interior Department. Judge Gantt says that his
friendship with Daniels has lasted through the years, and he takes
every opportunity he has to see his former "boss," as he refers to
Daniels.
Judge Gantt remained in the Interior
Department until the election of President McKinley, and then he was
offered, and accepted, the position of private secretary to Senator
Irby, his salary being $125 per month. During the period that he was
with Senator Irby, he took a law course at night at Georgetown
University. Upon his graduation he was nineteenth in a class of over
two hundred students. When he had attended the University of
Georgia, he had hopes of becoming a civil engineer after graduation,
and he received a degree in engineering.
"I sometimes wonder," he recalled, "if it
wouldn’t have been better for me to have become a civil engineer
rather than to practice law. But it’s too late to change now; if I
wanted to."
After his graduation in law at Georgetown
University, Judge Gantt returned to Spartanburg to hang out his
shingle in 1896, and for forty-six years he has been a resident of
the "Hub City." He says that although he is a Georgian by birth, he
is a Carolinian by adoption. He has no relatives in Georgia at the
present time, but has several in South Carolina.
Judge Gantt served as a city magistrate
from 1905 until 1917 and then was appointed United States
Commissioner in Spartanburg, serving in this capacity for ten years,
when he resigned in 1927 "because it got to where the job didn’t pay
anything."
Judge Gantt believes that he is the only
living person in Spartanburg, and perhaps elsewhere who, as a youth,
saw and talked to Jefferson Davis, who later became President of the
Confederacy, and Alexander Stephens, who became Vice President of
the Confederacy. He was eleven years of age when these two Southern
leaders visited with his father in their Georgia home. Thomas
Wilding Gantt, of Lowndesville, S.C., who was the grandfather of
Judge Gantt, was a Major in the brigade of General Robert Toombs, of
Georgia, during the War Between the States.
Judge Gantt was married to Dr. L. Rosa
Hirschman, of Charleston, and this union lasted for almost twenty
years until the death of Dr. Gantt about three years ago. Mrs. Gantt
was a remarkable woman, especially in view of the fact that women
doctors were not looked upon so favorably in a town the size of
Spartanburg. Nevertheless, she won national recognition in her
practice, specializing in the eye, ear, nose and throat. At one time
she was president of this branch of the American Medical
Association. Her personal charm and her ability won for her
leadership in women’s club activities in Spartanburg. Since the
death of Mrs. Gantt, Judge Gantt has called himself the "chief cook
and bottle washer."
To say the least, Judge Gantt is a unique
character, and while his dress and mannerisms may not appeal to the
masses, his ability as a lawyer is respected by all members of the
bar. Without knowing, one would never suspect Judge Gantt, on first
acquaintance, to be a lawyer. He is far from immaculate in his
dress; and his hat, like his suit, shows unmistakable signs of
having survived many winters. He has three complete suits, and all
equally worn out. He goes to and from his office to his home,
located in the mountains near Tryon, N.C., in an automobile he
purchased for $25 in 1925. He insists to friends who have tried to
prevail upon him to buy another car, that he does not need one,
despite the fact that it requires about an hour and thirty minutes
for him to travel the twenty-five miles from his office to his home.
The top of the car is half torn off, and in rainy weather one has to
take the consequences.
"I just tell them I don’t need another
car, huh? This one serves my needs. It gets me back and forth, and
that’s all I want it for, huh? I could purchase another car, but
there’s lots more years in this car yet, huh?"
The largest fee Judge Gantt ever
collected was $1,000, and the smallest, $1.
"The first case I ever tried," said the
Judge, "was on the very first day I opened my law office. A negro
was charged with being disorderly, and while in jail, employed me to
represent him. He had a one dollar bill, and gave it to me, asking
me to do all I could for the dollar in his behalf. Well, I told the
court a sob story for that boy, of how his mother needed him at
home, as he was an only child, and of this being his first offense.
I almost got to believing it myself, I made it so real. And the
court fell for my line, and [the?] boy was given his freedom. I had
won my first case and made my first dollar as a lawyer. The thousand
dollar fee I made was for handling a land case in the county court
during the World War period.
"In my years service as a magistrate, and
in observing cases that have come before others, I have noted that a
magistrate is pretty close to humanity, so to speak. He is called
upon to make decisions in all manner of cases.
"One of the truest men I ever knew, and
who a few years ago died in Spartanburg, served as a deputy sheriff
in Spartanburg County as a young man. While I was a magistrate he
often would come and sit with me, telling me of his experiences as a
young deputy. He told me that the hardest official act he ever had
to perform was to take charge of a white child that was being raised
and cared for by a Negro mother. It seemed that same young white
girl had gone wrong and, leaving home, threw herself upon the mercy
of an old mammy that had largely reared her. The girl gave birth to
a baby, and was "grannied" and protected by the Negro woman. To
protect her from shame, the Negro mother kept the secret and
pampered the child, keeping it immaculately clean and neatly
dressed. She had several small children herself, and the little
white girl was being reared just as one of the family. The
neighbors, however, began to gossip, and finally the condition of
affairs was brought to the attention of the law.
"The magistrate in question, who served
years before I did, could find no law covering the case. It was
before the days of the juvenile court act, but it was decided that
something must be done, so my friend was deputized to go out and see
if he could persuade the Negro woman to turn the child over to him.
When approached, the Negro woman became hysterical. She declared it
was her child, that she had nursed it, reared it and loved the
child, and that she would not give it up because she held it in
trust. She flatly refused to disclose the parentage or the history
of the infant. She sent for her husband, and he declared that they
could only take that child out of the house over his dead
body.
"After making his report to the
magistrate, and a conference with the people in the neighborhood was
held, the magistrate decided that the court owed a duty to the State
to see that this white child was not reared as a Negro. The
magistrate issued an order to his deputy to seize the child. The
constable declared that while he questioned the right of the
magistrate to issue such an order, he felt it his duty to carry it
out. The child was situated in a cabin at the end of a long lane,
and as he drove down to the house he noted the Negro husband working
in the barn and said nothing to him. He reached the cabin, told the
Negro woman that he had come for the child, and had papers for the
infant. The Negro gathered the infant in her arms and uttered a
scream. The officer noted her husband running down the lane with a
pitch fork. My friend said that he turned and ran to the door and,
as the Negro came up, he covered him with his gun; that the
expression on the Negro’s face was one of terrified determination
and that he pleaded with the Negro to stop and listen to reason. He
felt every minute that he would have to use his weapon, but the
Negro paused, and he commenced to appeal to him, finally stepping
out of the way and letting him join his wife in the room. He then
commenced to plead with the two of them, reading the order of the
court to them, and telling them that he would be forced to do his
duty. The man weakened and commenced to plead with his wife. My
friend told ne that he was patient, determined and deeply moved in
sympathy for the Negro woman in her affection for the child. Both
the man and woman were in tears.
"Then, my friend said, as the sun began
to sink in the west, the officer gently prized the arms of the
weeping Negro woman apart, took the crying white child in his arms,
and backed out of the door. He heard the Negro woman fall to the
floor with a thud, but drove away without looking back. He said that
as he drove up the hill, he heard someone calling, and stopped. The
Negro man came running up with tears in his eyes, and said: ‘Boss,
it’s hard, but I reckon it’s for the best. But I do think the county
ought to pay me something for what we’ve done for that child. It has
nearly killed the old woman to give it up.’ The deputy asked the
Negro how much he thought he was entitled to., and said that the
Negro replied: ‘Well, I think it’s worth as much as ten dollars. You
know, we have kept the child almost four years.’
"My friend said that the county paid the
ten dollars to the Negro gladly. The little girl was put in the
proper environment, and the incident was closed."
In sharp contrast to the shabby
appearance of his office, is the home of Judge Gantt, nestled in the
Carolina mountains near Tryon, which is a picture of contentment and
peacefulness. From the main highway, just beyond Tryon, you turn to
the left and continue up a winding dirt road for about a mile until
you reach "Liberty Hall," which Judge Gantt calls his home place.
The two-story frame structure is situated on a hill right in the
heart of the mountains, and the picture from the flower garden
looking towards the mountains, is one for an artist to paint. Many
years ago Judge and Mrs. Gantt built this home in the
mountains.
The front door of "Liberty Hall" opens
into a spacious living room where, during the winter months, a log
fire is burning. All modern conveniences are available, even to a
hot air furnace in the basement, which Judge Gantt has not fired up
since his wife’s death. There is no telephone, but, as Judge Gantt
says, "I don’t want one here, for when I get home I want to forget
the court room and my clients, huh?"
To the left of the living room is the
dining room, and to its right, the kitchen, which has a frigidaire.
His water is supplied from a well that he helped to dig himself, and
the water is always cool.
French doors in the living room open into
Judge Gantt’s library, where he has a large number of valuable books
and personal papers of his father. He has a first edition of poems
by Robert Burns, which is valuable to any collector, and other books
that would bring him hundreds of dollars were they placed on sale.
He has some of the original manuscripts of Henry W. Grady, the
crusading Georgia editor of a generation ago, who was a favorite of
both Judge Gantt and his father when they resided in Georgia, and
when the Judge knew as a young man while attending the University of
Georgia. He will sit and reminisce for hours on Grady, Toombs,
Stephens, Davis, Tom Watson, Eli Whitney, Ben Tillman, and many
others who made history in the years past.
The upstairs has four bed rooms and two
bath rooms and three large closets. There is one room that no one
but himself is permitted to enter. It is the bed room that was used
by Mrs. Gantt. Everything is just as she left it. Judge Gantt
stopped the clock on her mantel at the very minute and hour of her
death---3:48.
Each day, after Judge Gantt leaves for
his office in Spartanburg, the house is cleaned by a woman who, with
her husband and two children, live in a home which Judge Gantt built
in the rear of his place. The husband acts as caretaker of the
twenty-three acres which the Judge owns in the mountains.
The Judge does his own cooking, and when
he has invited guests, talks boastingly of his preparation of the
meals. And all who have sat at his dinner table come away praising
his culinary ability. His Sunday dinner, for example, may consist of
the following: broiled ham, two inches thick, with gravy; boiled
irish potatoes; baked sweet potatoes; carrots and peas; rice,
tomatoes and celery, and hot biscuits and coffee. His Sunday
breakfast is served at about 10 o’clock, and dinner at about 4
o’clock. If, before bed time, you feel the need of additional foods
the Judge will offer you swiss cheese, rye bread and coffee. In the
morning you will be served with scrambled eggs, toast and coffee,
and if you desire, grape fruit.
After the evening meals unless he has
company, Judge Gantt enjoys the solitude of his library, where he
will continue work on a book he is writing. He thinks he will give
it the title, "A History of Upper South Carolina." He has been
working on this book for two years, he says. He hopes to finish it
during the next few months. He hopes, also, to prepare a book on the
Spartanburg bar similar to Judge O’Neall’s Bench and Bar of South
Carolina; and toward this purpose he has accumulated a mass of
material. He might find embarrassment if required to write a
three-figure check on short notice; but he can always give a guest a
warm welcome, a comfortable bed, and a good meal; and he can always
answer an intelligent question about the county of
Spartanburg.
Such is Judge Robert Joseph Gantt,
respected member of the Spartanburg bar, a Tillmanite to the end, a
country gentleman, and an author with perception and
insight.
