The American Judiciary

by Simeon E. Baldwin

In the days preceding the Civil War, the validity of the laws enacted by Congress to secure the recapture of slaves who had fled to the free States was frequently attacked in the press and on the platform. The Constitution expressly provided for such proceedings, and the Supreme Court of the United States in 1842 had pronounced the "Fugitive Slave law" of 1793 to be valid in all respects.[Footnote: Prigg v. Pennsylvania, 16 Peters' Reports, 539.] The principle of this decision plainly covered the later Act of 1850, but as public sentiment in the North became more and more uncompromising in its hostility to the existence of slavery under the flag of the United States, the State courts were not always strong enough to withstand the pressure to disregard precedents and let the Constitution give place to what the phrase of the time called a "higher law."

In 1859, a citizen of Ohio was convicted in the District Court of the United States and sentenced to jail for rescuing a fugitive slave who had been recaptured in Ohio by an agent of his master, to whom he had been committed in proceedings under the Act of Congress. He was imprisoned in an Ohio jail, the United States then having none of their own, but placing all their convicts in State jails or prisons under a contract with the State to keep them for a certain price. His counsel applied to the judges of the Supreme Court at chambers for a writ of habeas corpus against the Ohio jailer. He produced his prisoner and submitted a copy of the warrant of commitment from the District Court. The public were extremely interested in the outcome of the proceedings. The Attorney-General of the State assisted in presenting the petitioner's case. The Governor was one of the multitude present in the crowded court room. The Attorney-General declared that the position that the Supreme Court of the United States had the power to decide conclusively as to the constitutionality of the laws of the United States and so tie the hands of the State authority was untenable and monstrous. "Georgia," he said, "hung Graves and Tassel over the writ of error of this same Supreme Court. God bless Georgia for that valiant and beneficent example."[Footnote: Ex parte Bushnell, 9 Ohio State Reports, 150.] It was, he continued, "a sectional court composed of sectional men, judging sectional questions upon sectional influences."[Footnote: Ibid., 161.]

Of the five judges, three held that the constitutionality of the Fugitive Slave law was settled conclusively by repeated decisions of the Supreme Court of the United States, and that the State courts could not release the prisoner. Chief Justice Swan gave the leading opinion. Its positions were thoroughly distasteful to the people of Ohio. He knew they would be. His term, which was one of five years, expired in the following February, and the vacancy was to be filled at the State election in October. On the day before the judgment was announced he told his wife that this would be fatal to his re-election. "If the law makes it your duty to give such an opinion," said she, "do it, whatever happens." He gave it, and what they anticipated occurred. The convention of his party declined to renominate him. He resigned his office immediately after the election and retired to private life at an age and under circumstances which made it impracticable for him to re-enter the bar with success, but with the consolation of knowing that he had acted right.

Chief Justice Day of Iowa, one of the ablest men who ever sat on her Supreme bench, in the same way lost a re-election by writing an opinion of the court, which announced a doctrine that was legal but unpopular.[Footnote: Koehler v. Hill, 60 Iowa Reports, 543, 603.] His term was soon to expire. He, too, knew that this decision would prevent his renomination, and it did.

In 1885, Chief Justice Cooley of Michigan, one of the great jurists and judges of the country, failed to secure a re-election to its Supreme Court, which he had adorned for twenty-one years, largely on account of an opinion which he had written supporting a large verdict against a Detroit newspaper for libel. The newspaper, upon his renomination, described him as a railroad judge, and kept up a running fire through the campaign, which contributed materially to his defeat.

Political contests cost money, and if judges appear as candidates for popular suffrage they are naturally expected to contribute to the expense. The other candidates on the same ticket do this, and if those nominated for the bench did not, somebody would have to do it for them, thus bringing them under obligations that might have an unfortunate appearance, if not an unfortunate effect. In New York, where some of the judicial salaries are higher than anywhere else in the country, and the terms for the highest places are long (fourteen years), it has been customary for those placed in nomination to contribute a large sum to the campaign expenses of their party. This is tacitly understood to be a condition of their accepting the nomination, and the amount to be paid is fixed by party practice. For an original nomination by the party in power, it is said to be about equal to a year's salary; for a renomination half that sum may suffice.

But a judge holding office by popular election must in any case owe something to somebody for supporting his candidacy. He is therefore under a natural inclination to use his power, so far as he properly can, in such a way as to show that he has not forgotten what his friends have done for him. There is always a certain amount of judicial patronage to be bestowed. There are clerks and messengers, trustees and receivers, referees and committees, perhaps public prosecuting attorneys and their assistants, to appoint. Other things being equal, no one would blame a judge for naming a political friend for such a position. But as to whether other things are equal he is to decide. To the most upright and fearless man the danger of this is great; to a weak or bad man the feeling of personal obligation will be controlling. Justice Barnard of the Supreme Court of New York once observed on the bench that judges had considerable patronage to be disposed of at their discretion, and that for his part he had always succeeded in life by helping his friends and not his enemies. For this practice, among other things, he was impeached and removed from office; but how many judges are there who yield to this temptation without avowing it? A French critic of the elective judiciary has thus referred to these remarks of Justice Barnard:

Le Juge Barnard, qui formulait en plein tribunal cette déclaration de principes, fut décrété d'accusation et condamné, non sans justes motifs. Mais son crime impardonable était de proclamer trop franchement les doctrines de la magistrature élective: il trahissait le secret professionnel.[Footnote: Duc De Noailles, Cent Ans de République aux Etats-Unis, II, 232.]

Most of the old thirteen States in their first Constitutions provided that the judges of their highest courts should hold office during good behavior, or until seventy years of age. New York at first put the age of superannuation at sixty, but after losing by this the services of Chancellor Kent for some of his best and most fruitful years, postponed it to seventy. Georgia was the first to set the fashion of short terms. Her Constitution of 1798 provided that the judges of her highest court should be "elected" for three years, but that those of her inferior courts should be "appointed" by the legislature and hold during good behavior. The legislature construed this as allowing it to frame such a scheme of election as it thought best, and that adopted was for the House to nominate three, from whom the Senate elected one.[Footnote: Schouler, "Constitutional Studies," 65.]

In all but three States (Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Rhode Island) at the present time all judges hold for a term of years, and as a general rule those of the higher courts have longer terms than those of the inferior ones. The change from life tenure to that for a term of years was partly due to several instances which occurred early in the nineteenth century, in which it was evident that judges had outlived their usefulness. Judge Pickering of the District Court of New Hampshire lost his reason, and to get rid of him it became necessary to go through the form of impeachment. In 1803, Judge Bradbury of the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts, who had been incapacitated by paralysis, was displaced in the same way, though only a few months before his death. In 1822, an old man who was the chief judge of one of the judicial districts of Maryland was presented by the grand jury as a "serious grievance," on account of his habitual absence from court. His physician certified that his life would be hazarded if he undertook to attend, but the natural answer was that then he should resign.