Mes racines / my roots

Henri Césaire Saint-Pierre

Adéline Albina Lesieur

Napoléon Mallette

Louis Émery Beaulieu

Guillaume Saint-Pierre

Joseph Bélanger

Geneviève Saint-Pierre

Jeanne Beaulieu Casgrain

Jean Casgrain

Simone Aubry Beaulieu

Marcel Malépart

Jaque Masson

Édouard Trudeau

Rolland Labrosse

Jacques Cousineau

"Mes racines"


à la page

His Farewell to the Court House
Newspaper clipping from January 15, 1916, in the possession of Suzanne Montel, great-grand-daughter of Henri Césaire Saint-Pierre, transcribed by Jacques Beaulieu, great-grand-son of same.


Mr. Justice Saint Pierre Donned Official Robes
When Re-visiting Signs of Former Successes –
Knew He Was Going Home to Die

The story of the late Mr. Justice Saint Pierre’s last day at the Court House, told one of his colleagues of the Bench, throws light upon the character of the veteran criminologist and jurist.

Three months ago Judge St. Pierre informed one of the Judges that he would not outlive the winter. At that time his family did not know he was ill. Though suffering from malignant cancer of the stomach, which must have caused great pain even months ago, the judge kept at his post until a couple of weeks before Christmas.

Feeling that he could keep up no longer and that he must reliquish active work on the Bench, Judge Saint Pierre, late one afternoon, arranged the books in his library, cleaned up his desk, and, attiring himself in his full court garb, including gown, rabat and the regulation three-cornered hat, proceeded on his farewell tour of the Court House.


From corridor to corridor and from court room to court room he went – making, as it were, a final review of his public life. For it was within the walls of the Court House that he started on his legal carrer in the late sixties, and it was there that he rose, step by step, to the high post he held with such distinction.

In each vacant court room, he tarried, as if endeavoreing to recall some incident of his carrier asssociated with that particular room. Here he had presided at some noted civil case; there he had acted as counsel in some other noted case. Farther on, was the room where he had fought with might and main to save some unfortunate from the gallows, for in the course of his career he defended thirty-three men charged with first degree murder, and it was with pride that not in one case was a verdict of murder turned in by a jury.


In his peregrinations through old scenes, the judge was found by a colleague who happened to visit the Court of King’s Bench, criminal side. There, in the failing light of the late afterscenes the judge was found sitting at the counsel table, alone, with his head resting on his hands. So deep in thought was he, that he did not notice the presence of the other, who kept in the shadows lest he might interrupt the course of the great jurist thoughts. For it was to this colleage that Judge Saint Pierre had confided a few days previously that his end was near, and that he would not outlive the winter.

Then the judge closely examined the court room. He proceeded to the jury box, where he had so often pleaded for the life of a fellow man. He turned and looked at the prisoners’ dock, wherein had stood so many of his clients, hovering between life and death – their fate dependent upon his well known ability to impress the justice of his case upon a jury. He then went over and examined a life size painting of himself which, in commemoration of his great services as a criminal lawyer, was presented to the Court and now hangs within the view of all who may visit the court room. Then, taking a last look around familiar surroundings, the jurist, silently as before, with shoulders erect and with that mannerism of severity which was his wont, but which was but a mannerism, left the court, walked to his room, placed his private papers in his brief bag, and went home – to die.

Jacques Beaulieu
Révisé le 22 juillet 2019
Ce site a été visité 26541126 fois
depuis le 9 mai 2004