On the day following the reading of Marshall’s opinion, the prosecution, unable to produce two witnesses who had actually seen Burr procure the assemblage on the island, abandoned the case to the jury. Shortly thereafter the following verdict was returned: “We of the jury say that Aaron Burr is not proved to be guilty under this indictment by any evidence submitted to us. We therefore find him not guilty.” At the order of the Chief Justice this Scotch verdict was entered on the records of the court as a simple Not Guilty.

Marshall’s conduct of Burr’s trial for treason is the one serious blemish in his judicial record, but for all that it was not without a measure of extenuation. The President, too, had behaved deplorably and, feeling himself on the defensive, had pressed matters with most unseemly zeal, so that the charge of political persecution raised by Burr’s attorneys was, to say the least, not groundless. Furthermore, in opposing the President in this matter, Marshall had shown his usual political sagacity. Had Burr been convicted, the advantage must all have gone to the Administration. The only possible credit the Chief Justice could extract from the case would be from assuming that lofty tone of calm, unmoved impartiality of which Marshall was such a master—and never more than on this occasion—and from setting himself sternly against popular hysteria. The words with which his opinion closes have been often quoted:

Much has been said in the course of the argument on points on which the Court feels no inclination to comment particularly, but which may, perhaps not improperly receive some notice.

That this Court dare not usurp power is most true.

That this Court dare not shrink from its duty is not less true.

No man is desirous of placing himself in a disagreeable situation. No man is desirous of becoming the popular subject of calumny. No man, might he let the bitter cup pass from him without self-reproach, would drain it to the bottom. But if he have no choice in the case, if there be no alternative presented to him but a dereliction of duty or the opprobrium of those who are denominated the world, he merits the contempt as well as the indignation of his country who can hesitate which to embrace.

One could not require a better illustration of that faculty of “apparently deep self-conviction” which Wirt had noted in the Chief Justice.

Finally, it must be owned that Burr’s case offered Marshall a tempting opportunity to try out the devotion of Republicans to that ideal of judicial deportment which had led them so vehemently to criticize Justice Chase and to charge him with being “oppressive,” with refusing to give counsel for defense an opportunity to be heard, with transgressing the state law of procedure, with showing too great liking for Common Law ideas of sedition, with setting up the President as a sort of monarch beyond the reach of judicial process. Marshall’s conduct of Burr’s trial now exactly reversed every one of these grounds of complaint. Whether he intended it or not, it was a neat turning of the tables.

But Jefferson, who was at once both the most theoretical and the least logical of men, was of course hardly prepared to see matters in that light. As soon as the news reached him of Burr’s acquittal, he ordered Hay to press the indictment for misdemeanor—not for the purpose of convicting Burr, but of getting the evidence down in a form in which it should be available for impeachment proceedings against Marshall. For some weeks longer, therefore, the Chief Justice sat listening to evidence which was to be used against himself. But the impeachment never came, for a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, and the weakest link in the combination against the Chief Justice was a very fragile one indeed—the iniquitous Wilkinson. Even the faithful and melancholy Hay finally abandoned him. “The declaration which I made in court in his favor some time ago,” he wrote the President, “was precipitate.… My confidence in him is destroyed.… I am sorry for it, on his account, on the public account, and because you have expressed opinions in his favor.” It was obviously impossible to impeach the Chief Justice for having prevented the hanging of Aaron Burr on the testimony of such a miscreant.


Though the years immediately following the Burr trial were not a time of conspicuous activity for Marshall, they paved the way in more than one direction for his later achievement. Jefferson’s retirement from the Presidency at last relieved the Chief Justice from the warping influence of a hateful personal contest and from anxiety for his official security. Jefferson’s successors were men more willing to identify the cause of the Federal Judiciary with that of national unity. Better still, the War of 1812 brought about the demise of the Federalist party and thus cleared the Court of every suspicion of partisan bias. Henceforth the great political issue was the general one of the nature of the Union and the Constitution, a field in which Marshall’s talent for debate made him master. In the meantime the Court was acquiring that personnel which it was to retain almost intact for nearly twenty years; and, although the new recruits came from the ranks of his former party foes, Marshall had little trouble in bringing their views into general conformity with his own constitutional creed. Nor was his triumph an exclusively personal one. He was aided in very large measure by the fact that the war had brought particularism temporarily into discredit in all sections of the country. Of Marshall’s associates in 1812, Justice Washington alone had come to the bench earlier, yet he was content to speak through the mouth of his illustrious colleague, save on the notable occasion when he led the only revolt of a majority of the Court from the Chief Justice’s leadership in the field of Constitutional Law. ¹ Johnson of South Carolina, a man of no little personal vanity, affected a greater independence, for which he was on one occasion warmly congratulated by Jefferson; yet even his separate opinions, though they sometimes challenge Marshall’s more sweeping premises and bolder method of reasoning, are after all mostly concurring ones. Marshall’s really invaluable aid among his associates was Joseph Story, who in 1811, at the age of thirty-two, was appointed by Madison in succession to Cushing. Still immature, enthusiastically willing to learn, warmly affectionate, and with his views on constitutional issues as yet unformed, Story fell at once under the spell of Marshall’s equally gentle but vastly more resolute personality; and the result was one of the most fruitful friendships of our history. Marshall’s “original bias,” to quote Story’s own words, “as well as the choice of his mind, was to general principles and comprehensive views, rather than to technical or recondite learning.” Story’s own bias, which was supported by his prodigious industry, was just the reverse. The two men thus supplemented each other admirably. A tradition of some venerability represents Story as having said that Marshall was wont to remark: “Now Story, that is the law; you find the precedents for it.” Whether true or not, the tale at least illustrates the truth. Marshall owed to counsel a somewhat similar debt in the way of leading up to his decisions, for, as Story points out, “he was solicitous to hear arguments and not to decide cases without them, nor did any judge ever profit more by them.” But in the field of Constitutional Law, at least, Marshall used counsel’s argument not so much to indicate what his own judicial goal ought to be as to discover the best route thereto—often, indeed, through the welcome stimulus which a clash of views gave to his reasoning powers.

¹ This was in the case of Ogden vs. Saunders, 12 Wheaton, 213 (1827).

Though the wealth of available legal talent at this period was impressively illustrated in connection both with Chase’s impeachment and with Burr’s trial, yet on neither of these occasions appeared William Pinkney of Maryland, the attorney to whom Marshall acknowledged his greatest indebtedness, and who was universally acknowledged to be the leader of the American Bar from 1810 until his death twelve years later. Besides being a great lawyer, Pinkney was also a notable personality, as George Ticknor’s sketch of him as he appeared before the Supreme Court in 1815 goes to prove: