Among the spectators were John Marshall and the Associate Justices of the Supreme Court, thoroughly conscious that they, and the institution of which they were the highest representatives, were on trial almost as much as their imprudent, rough, and outspoken fellow member of the Bench. It is not improbable that they were helping to direct the defense of Chase,[487] in which, as officials, they were personally interested, and in which, too, all their convictions as citizens and jurists were involved.

Marshall, aroused, angered, and frightened by the articles of the impeachment, had written his brother a year before the Chase trial that they are "sufficient to alarm the friends of a pure, and, of course, an independent Judiciary, if, among those who rule our land there be any of that description."[488] At the beginning of the proceedings Chase had asked Marshall, who was then in Richmond, to write an account of what occurred at the trial of Callender, and Marshall promptly responded: "I instantly applied to my brother[489] & to Mr. Wickham[490] to state their recollection of the circumstances under which Colo. Taylors testimony was rejected.[491] They both declared that they remembred them very imperfectly but that they woud endeavor to recollect what passed & commit it to writing. I shall bring it with me to Washington in february." Marshall also promised to bring other documents.

"Admitting it to be true," continues Marshall, "that on legal principles Colo. Taylors testimony was admissible, it certainly constitutes a very extraordinary ground for an impeachment. According to the antient doctrine a jury finding a verdict against the law of the case was liable to an attaint; & the amount of the present doctrine seems to be that a Judge giving a legal opinion contrary to the opinion of the legislature is liable to impeachment.

"As, for convenience & humanity the old doctrine of attaint has yielded to the silent, moderate but not less operative influence of new trials, I think the modern doctrine of impeachment should yield to an appellate jurisdiction in the legislature. A reversal of those legal opinions deemed unsound by the legislature would certainly better comport with the mildness of our character than [would] a removal of the Judge who has rendered them unknowing of his fault.

"The other charges except the 1st & 4th which I suppose to be altogether unfounded, seem still less to furnish cause for impeachment. But the little finger of [blotted out—probably "democracy"] is heavier than the loins of ——.[492]

"Farewell—With much respect and esteem....

"J. Marshall."[493]

Marshall thus suggested the most radical method for correcting judicial decisions ever advanced, before or since, by any man of the first class. Appeals from the Supreme Court to Congress! Senators and Representatives to be the final judges of any judicial decision with which a majority of the House was dissatisfied! Had we not the evidence of Marshall's signature to a letter written in his well-known hand, it could not be credited that he ever entertained such sentiments. They were in direct contradiction to his reasoning in Marbury vs. Madison, utterly destructive of the Federalist philosophy of judicial control of legislation.

The explanation is that Marshall was seriously alarmed. By his own pen he reveals to us his state of mind before and on that dismal February day when he beheld Samuel Chase arraigned at the bar of the Senate of the United States. During the trial Marshall's bearing as a witness[494] again exhibited his trepidation. And, as we have seen, he had good cause for sharp anxiety.[495]

The avowed Republican purpose to remove him and his Federalist associates from the Supreme Bench, the settled and well-known intention of Jefferson to appoint Spencer Roane as Chief Justice when Marshall was ousted, and the certainty that this would be fatal to the execution of those fundamental principles of government to which Marshall was so passionately devoted—these important considerations fully warranted the apprehension which the Chief Justice felt and now displayed.

Had he been indifferent to the peril that confronted him and the whole National Judiciary, he would have exhibited a woeful lack of sense and feeling. He was more than justified in resorting to any honorable expedient to save the great office he held from occupancy by a resolute and resourceful foe of those Constitutional theories, the application of which, Marshall firmly believed, was indispensable to the sound development of the American Nation.

The arrangements for the trial were as dramatic as the event itself was momentous.[496] The scenes of the impeachment prosecution of Warren Hastings were still vivid in the minds of all, and in imitation of that spectacle, the Senate Chamber was now bedecked with impressive splendor. It was aglow with theatrical color, and the placing of the various seats was as if a tragic play were to be performed.

To the right and left of the President's chair were two rows of benches with desks, the whole covered with crimson cloth. Here sat the thirty-four Senators of the United States. Three rows of benches, arranged in tiers, extended from the wall toward the center of the room; these were covered with green cloth and were occupied by the members of the House of Representatives. Upon their right an enclosure had been constructed, and in it were the members of Jefferson's Cabinet.

Beneath the permanent gallery to which the general public was admitted, a temporary gallery, supported by pillars, ran along the wall, and faced the crimson-covered places of the Senators. At either end of it were boxes. Comfortable seats had been provided in this enclosure; and these were covered with green cloth, which also was draped over the balustrade.

This sub-gallery and the boxes were filled with ladies dressed in the height of fashion. A passageway was left from the President's chair to the doorway. On either side of this aisle were two stalls covered with blue cloth, as were also the chairs within them. They were occupied by the managers of the House of Representatives and by the lawyers who conducted the defense.[497]

A short, slender, elegantly formed man, with pallid face and steady black eyes, presided over this Senatorial Court. He was carefully dressed, and his manners and deportment were meticulously correct. Aaron Burr, fresh from his duel with Hamilton, and under indictment in two States, had resumed his duties as Vice-President. Nothing in the bearing of this playwright character indicated in the smallest degree that anything out of the ordinary had happened to him. The circumstance of his presence, however, dismayed even the most liberal of the New England Federalists. "We are indeed fallen on evil times," wrote Senator Plumer. "The high office of President is filled by an infidel, that of Vice-President by a murderer."[498]

For the first time since the Republican victory of 1800, which, but for his skill, courage, and energy in New York, would not have been achieved,[499] Burr now found himself in favor with the Administration and the Republican chieftains.[500] Jefferson determined that Aaron Burr must be captured—at least conciliated. He could not be displaced as the presiding officer at the Chase impeachment trial; his rulings would be influential, perhaps decisive; the personal friendship and admiration of several Senators for him were well known; the emergency of the Republican Party was acute. Chase must be convicted at all hazards; and while nobody but Jefferson then doubted that this would be the result, no chances were to be taken, no precaution overlooked.

The President had rewarded the three principal witnesses against Pickering with important and lucrative offices[501] after the insane judge had been removed from the bench. Indeed he had given the vacated judgeship to one of these witnesses. But such an example Jefferson well knew would have no effect upon Burr; even promises would avail nothing with the man who for nearly three years had suffered indignity and opposition from an Administration which he, more than any one man except Jefferson himself, had placed in power.

So it came about that Vice-President Aaron Burr, with only four weeks of official life left him, with the whole North clamorous against him because of his killing of Hamilton and an indictment of murder hanging over him in New Jersey, now found himself showered with favors by those who owed him so much and who, for nearly four years, had so grossly insulted him.

Burr's stepson, his brother-in-law, his most intimate friend, were forthwith appointed to the three most valuable and commanding offices in the new government of the Louisiana Territory, at the attractive city of New Orleans.[502] The members of the Cabinet became attentive to Burr. The President himself exercised his personal charm upon the fallen politician. Time after time Burr was now invited to dine with Jefferson at the Executive Mansion.

Nor were Presidential dinners, the bestowal of patronage hitherto offensively refused, and attentions of the Cabinet, the limit of the efforts to win the coÖperation of the man who was to preside over the trial of Samuel Chase. Senator Giles drew a petition to the Governor of New Jersey begging that the prosecution of Burr for murder be dropped, and to this paper he secured the signature of nearly all the Republican Senators.[503]

Burr accepted these advances with grave and reserved dignity; but he understood the purpose that inspired them, did not commit himself, and remained uninfluenced and impartial. Throughout the momentous trial the Vice-President was a model presiding officer. "He conducted with the dignity and impartiality of an angel, but with the rigor of a devil," records a Washington newspaper that was bitterly hostile to Burr personally and politically.[504]

When Chase took his place in the box, the Sergeant-at-Arms brought him a chair; but Burr, adhering to the English custom, which required prisoners to stand when on trial in court, ordered it to be taken away.[505] Upon the request of the elderly Justice, however, Burr quickly relented and the desired seat was provided.[506]

Chase was, in appearance, the opposite of the diminutive and graceful Vice-President. More than six feet tall, with thick, broad, burly shoulders, he was a picture of rugged and powerful physical manhood, marred by an accumulation of fat which his generous manner of living had produced. Also he was afflicted with an agonizing gout, with which it seems so many of "the fathers" were cursed. His face was broad and massive, his complexion a brownish red.[507] "Bacon face" was a nickname applied to him by the Maryland bar.[508] His head was large, his brow wide, and his hair was thick and white with the snows of his sixty-four winters.[509]

The counsel that surrounded the impeached Justice were brilliant and learned.[510] They were Joseph Hopkinson, who six years before, upon Marshall's return from France, had written "Hail Columbia; or, The President's March"; Philip Barton Key, brother of the author of "The Star-Spangled Banner";[511] Robert Goodloe Harper, one of the Federalist leaders in Congress during the ascendancy of that party; and Charles Lee, Attorney-General under President Adams when Marshall was Secretary of State, and one of Marshall's most devoted friends.[512]

But in the chair next to Chase sat a man who, single-handed and alone, was more than a match for all the managers of the House put together. Luther Martin of Maryland—of medium height, broad-shouldered, near-sighted, absent-minded, shabbily attired, harsh of voice, now sixty-one years old, with gray hair beginning to grow thin and a face crimsoned by the brandy which he continually imbibed—was the dominating figure of this historic contest.[513]

Weary and harried as he was, Randolph opened the trial with a speech of some skill. He contrasted the conduct of Chase in the trial of Callender with that of Marshall in a trial in Richmond in 1804 at which Marshall had presided. "Sir," said Randolph, "in the famous case of Logwood,[514] whereat the Chief Justice of the United States presided, I was present, being one of the grand jury who found a true bill against him.... The government was as deeply interested in arresting the career of this dangerous and atrocious criminal, who had aimed his blow against the property of every man in society, as it could be in bringing to punishment a weak and worthless scribbler [Callender]."

But how had Marshall acted in the conduct of that trial? "Although," continued Randolph, "much testimony was offered by the prisoner, which did by no means go to his entire exculpation, although much of that testimony was of a very questionable nature, none of it was declared inadmissable." Marshall suffered it "to go to the jury, who were left to judge of its weight and credibility"; nor had he required "any interrogatories to the witnesses ... to be reduced to writing,"—such a thing never had been done in Virginia before the tyrannical ruling of Chase in the trial of Callender.

"No, Sir!" he cried. "The enlightened man who presided in Logwood's case knew that, although the basest and vilest of criminals, he was entitled to justice, equally with the most honorable member of society." Marshall "did not avail himself of the previous and great discoveries in criminal law, of this respondent [Chase]"; Marshall "admitted the prisoner's testimony to go to the jury"; Marshall "never thought it his right or his duty to require questions to be reduced to writing"; Marshall "gave the accused a fair trial according to law and usage, without any innovation or departure from the established rules of criminal jurisprudence in his country."

Marshall's gentle manner and large-minded, soft-spoken rulings as a trial judge were thus adroitly made to serve as an argument for the condemnation of his associate, and for his own undoing if Chase should be convicted. Randolph denounced "the monstrous pretension that an act to be impeachable must be indictable. Where? In the Federal Courts? There, not even robbery and murder are indictable."

A judge could not, under the National law, be indicted for conducting a National court while drunk, and perhaps not in all State courts. "It is indictable nowhere for him to omit to do his duty, to refuse to hold a court. But who can doubt that both are impeachable offenses, and ought to subject the offender to removal from office?"

The autocrat of Congress then boldly announced to the Republican Senators that the House managers "confidently expect on his [Chase's] conviction.... We shall bring forward ... such a specimen of judicial tyranny, as, I trust in God, will never be again exhibited in our country."[515]

Fifty-two witnesses were examined. It was established that, in the trial of Fries, Chase had written the opinion of the court upon the law before the jury was sworn, solely in order to save time; had withdrawn the paper and destroyed it when he found Fries's counsel resented the court's precipitate action; and, finally, had repeatedly urged them to proceed with the defense without restriction. Chase's inquisitorial conduct in Delaware was proved, and several witnesses testified to the matter and manner of his charge to the Baltimore grand jury.[516]

Every incident in the trial of Callender[517] was described by numerous witnesses.[518] George Hay, who had been the most aggressive of Callender's counsel, was so anxious to help the managers that he made a bad impression on the Senate by his eagerness.[519] It developed that the whole attitude of Chase had been one of sarcastic contempt; and that Callender's counsel were more piqued by the laughter of the spectators which the witty sallies and humorous manner of the Justice excited, than they were outraged by any violence on Chase's part, or even by what they considered the illegal and oppressive nature of his rulings.

When, in defending Callender, Hay had insisted upon "a literal recital of the parts [of The Prospect Before Us] charged as libellous," Chase, looking around the court-room, said with an ironical smile: "It is contended ... that the book ought to be copied verbatim et literatim, I wonder, ... that they do not contend for punctuatim too."[520] The audience laughed. Chase's interruption of Wirt[521] by calling the young lawyer's "syllogistical" conclusion a "non sequitur, sir," was accompanied by an inimitable "bow" that greatly amused the listeners.

In short, the interruptions of the sardonic old Justice were, as John Taylor of Caroline testified, in "a very high degree imperative, satirical, and witty ... [and] extremely well calculated to abash and disconcert counsel."[522]

Among the witnesses was Marshall's brother William, whom President Adams had appointed clerk of the United States Court at Richmond.[523] His testimony was important on one point. One John Heath, a Richmond attorney and a perfect stranger to Chase, had sworn that Chase, in his presence, had asked the United States Marshal, David M. Randolph, "if he had any of those creatures or people called democrats on the panel of the jury to try Callender"; that when the Marshal replied that he had "made no discrimination," the Judge told him "to look over the panel and if there were any of that description, strike them off."

William Marshall, on the contrary, made oath that Chase told him that he hoped even Giles would serve on the jury—"Nay, he wished that Callender might be tried by a jury of his own politics." David M. Randolph then testified that he had never seen Heath in the Judge's chambers, that Chase "never at any time or place" said anything to him about striking any names from the jury panel, and that he never received "any instructions, verbal, or by letter, from Judge Chase in relation to the grand jury."[524]

John Marshall himself was then called to the stand and sworn. Friendly eye-witnesses record that the Chief Justice appeared to be frightened. He testified that Colonel Harvie, with whom he "was intimately acquainted,"[525] had asked him to get the Marshal to excuse Harvie from serving on the jury because "his mind was completely made up ... and whatever the evidence might be, he should find the traverser not guilty." When Marshall told this to the court official, the latter said that Harvie must apply to the Judge, because he "was watched," and "to prevent any charge of improper conduct" he would not discharge any of the jury whom he had summoned. Marshall then induced Chase to release Harvie "upon the ground of his being sheriff of Henrico County and that his attendance was necessary" at the county court then in session.

Marshall said that he was in court during a part of the Callender trial and that "there were several circumstances that took place ... on the part both of the bar and the bench which do not always occur at trials.... The counsel appeared ... to wish to argue to the jury that the Sedition Law was unconstitutional. Mr. Chase said that that was not a proper question to go to the jury"; and that whenever Callender's attorneys began to argue to the contrary the court stopped them.

The Chief Justice further testified that George Hay had addressed the court to the effect that in this ruling Chase was "not correct in point of law," and again the Judge "stopped him"; that "Mr. Hay still went on and made some political observations; Judge Chase stopped him again and the collision ended by Mr. Hay sitting down and folding up his papers as if he meant to retire."

Marshall did not recollect "precisely," although it appeared to him that "whenever Judge Chase thought the counsel incorrect in their points, he immediately told them so and stopped them short." This "began early in the proceedings and increased. On the part of the judge it seemed to be a disgust with regard to the mode adopted by the traverser's counsel, at least ... as to the part which Mr. Hay took in the trial."

Randolph asked Marshall whether it was the practice for courts to hear counsel argue against the correctness of rulings; and Marshall replied that "if counsel have not been already heard, it is usual to hear them in order that they may change or confirm the opinion of the court, when there is any doubt entertained." But there was "no positive rule on the subject and the course pursued by the court will depend upon circumstances: Where the judge believes that the point is perfectly clear and settled he will scarcely permit the question to be agitated. However, it is considered as decorous on the part of the judge to listen while the counsel abstain from urging unimportant arguments."

Marshall was questioned closely as to points of practice. His answers were not favorable to his Associate Justice. Did it appear to him that "the conduct of Judge Chase was mild and conciliatory" during the trial of Callender? Marshall replied that he ought to be asked what Chase's conduct was and not what he thought of it. Senator William Cocke of Tennessee said the question was improper, and Randolph offered to withdraw it. "No!" exclaimed Chase's counsel, "we are willing to abide in this trial by the opinion of the Chief Justice." Marshall declared that, except in the Callender trial, he never heard a court refuse to admit the testimony of a witness because it went only to a part and not to the whole of a charge.

Burr asked Marshall: "Do you recollect whether the conduct of the judge at this trial was tyrannical, overbearing and oppressive?" "I will state the facts," cautiously answered the Chief Justice. "Callender's counsel persisted in arguing the question of the constitutionality of the Sedition Law, in which they were constantly repressed by Judge Chase. Judge Chase checked Mr. Hay whenever he came to that point, and after having resisted repeated checks, Mr. Hay appeared to be determined to abandon the cause, when he was desired by the judge to proceed with his argument and informed that he should not be interrupted thereafter.

"If," continued Marshall, "this is not considered tyrannical, oppressive and overbearing, I know nothing else that was so." It was usual for courts to hear counsel upon the validity of rulings "not solemnly pronounced," and "by no means usual in Virginia to try a man for an offense at the same term at which he is presented"; although, said Marshall, "my practice, while I was at the bar was very limited in criminal cases."

"Did you ever hear Judge Chase apply any unusual epithets—such as 'young men' or 'young gentlemen'—to counsel?" inquired Randolph. "I have heard it so frequently spoken of since the trial that I cannot possibly tell whether my recollection of the term is derived from expressions used in court, or from the frequent mention since made of them." But, remarked Marshall, having thus adroitly placed the burden on the irresponsible shoulders of gossip, "I am rather inclined to think that I did hear them from the judge." Randolph then drew from Marshall the startling and important fact that William Wirt was "about thirty years of age and a widower."[526]

Senator Plumer, with evident reluctance, sets down in his diary a description from which it would appear that Marshall's manner affected the Senate most unfavorably. "John Marshall is the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States. I was much better pleased with the manner in which his brother testified than with him.

"The Chief Justice really discovered too much caution—too much fear—too much cunning—He ought to have been more bold—frank & explicit than he was.

"There was in his manner an evident disposition to accommodate the Managers. That dignified frankness which his high office required did not appear. A cunning man ought never to discover the arts of the trimmer in his testimony."[527]

Plainly Marshall was still fearful of the outcome of the Republican impeachment plans, not only as to Chase, but as to the entire Federalist membership of the Supreme Court. His understanding of the Republican purpose, his letter to Chase, and his manner on the stand at the trial leave no doubt as to his state of mind. A Republican Supreme Court, with Spencer Roane as Chief Justice, loomed forbiddingly before him.

Chase was suffering such agony from the gout that, when the testimony was all in, he asked to be released from further attendance.[528] Six days before the evidence was closed, the election returns were read and counted, and Aaron Burr "declared Thomas Jefferson and George Clinton to be duly elected to the respective offices of President and Vice-President of the United States."[529] For the first time in our history this was done publicly; on former occasions the galleries were cleared and the doors closed.[530]

Throughout the trial Randolph and Giles were in frequent conference—judge and prosecutor working together for the success of the party plan.[531] On February 20 the arguments began. Peter Early of Georgia spoke first. His remarks were "chiefly declamatory."[532] He said that the conduct of Chase exhibited that species of oppression which puts accused citizens "at the mercy of arbitrary and overbearing judges." For an hour and a half he reviewed the charges,[533] but he spoke so badly that "most of the members of the other House left the chamber & a large portion of the spectators the gallery."[534]

George Washington Campbell of Tennessee argued "long and tedious[ly]"[535] for the Jeffersonian idea of impeachment which he held to be "a kind of an inquest into the conduct of an officer ... and the effects that his conduct ... may have on society." He analyzed the official deeds of Chase by which "the whole community seemed shocked.... Future generations are interested in the event."[536] He spoke for parts of two days, having to suspend midway in the argument because of exhaustion.[537] Like Early, Campbell emptied the galleries and drove the members of the House, in disgust, from the floor.[538]

Joseph Hopkinson then opened for the defense. Although but thirty-four years old, his argument was not surpassed,[539] even by that of Martin—in fact, it was far more orderly and logical than that of Maryland's great attorney-general. "We appear," began Hopkinson, "for an ancient and infirm man, whose better days have been worn out in the service of that country which now degrades him." The case was "of infinite importance," truly declared the youthful attorney. "The faithful, the scrutinizing historian, ... without fear or favor" will render the final judgment. The House managers were following the British precedent in the impeachment of Warren Hastings; but that celebrated prosecution had not been instituted, as had that of Chase, on "a petty catalogue of frivolous occurrences, more calculated to excite ridicule than apprehension, but for the alleged murder of princes and plunder of empires"; yet Hastings had been acquitted.

In England only two judges had been impeached in half a century, while in the United States "seven judges have been prosecuted criminally in about two years." Could a National judge be impeached merely for "error, mistake, or indiscretion"? Absurd! Such action could be taken only for "an indictable offense." Thus Hopkinson stated the master question of the case. In a clear, closely woven argument, the youthful advocate maintained his ground.

The power of impeachment by the House was not left entirely to the "opinion, whim, or caprice" of its members, but was limited by other provisions of the fundamental law. Chase was not charged with treason, bribery, or corruption. Had any other "high crimes and misdemeanors" been proved or even stated against him? He could not be impeached for ordinary offenses, but only for "high crimes and high misdemeanors." Those were legal and technical terms, "well understood and defined in law.... A misdemeanor or a crime ... is an act committed or omitted, in violation of a public law either forbidding or commanding it. By this test, let the respondent ... stand justified or condemned."

The very nature of the Senatorial Court indicated "the grade of offenses intended for its jurisdiction.... Was such a court created ... to scan and punish paltry errors and indiscretions, too insignificant to have a name in the penal code, too paltry for the notice of a court of quarter sessions? This is indeed employing an elephant to remove an atom too minute for the grasp of an insect."

Had Chase transgressed any State or National statute? Had he violated the common law? Nobody claimed that he had. Could any judge be firm, unbiased, and independent if he might at any time be impeached "on the mere suggestions of caprice ... condemned by the mere voice of prejudice"? No! "If his nerves are of iron, they must tremble in so perilous a situation."

Hopkinson dwelt upon the true function of the Judiciary under free institutions. "All governments require, in order to give them firmness, stability, and character, some permanent principle, some settled establishment. The want of this is the great deficiency in republican institutions." In the American Government an independent, permanent Judiciary supplied this vital need. Without it "nothing can be relied on; no faith can be given either at home or abroad." It was also "a security from oppression."

All history proved that republics could be as tyrannical as despotisms; not systematically, it was true, but as the result of "sudden gust of passion or prejudice.... If we have read of the death of a Seneca under the ferocity of a Nero, we have read too of the murder of a Socrates under the delusion of a Republic. An independent and firm Judiciary, protected and protecting by the laws, would have snatched the one from the fury of a despot, and preserved the other from the madness of a people."[540] So spoke Joseph Hopkinson for three hours,[541] made brief and brilliant by his eloquence, logic, and learning.

Philip Barton Key of Washington, younger even than Hopkinson, next addressed the Senatorial Court. He had been ill the day before[542] and was still indisposed, but made an able speech. He analyzed, with painstaking minuteness, the complaints against his client, and cleverly turned to Chase's advantage the conduct of Marshall in the Logwood case.[543] Charles Lee then spoke for the defense; but what he said was so technical, applying merely to Virginia legal practice of the time, that it is of no historical moment.[544]

When, on the next day, February 23, Luther Martin rose, the Senate Chamber could not contain even a small part of the throng that sought the Capitol to hear the celebrated lawyer. If he "only appeared in defense of a friend," said Martin, he would not be so gravely concerned; but the case was plainly of highest possible importance, not only to all Americans then living, but to "posterity." It would "establish a most important precedent as to future cases of impeachment." An error now would be fatal.

For what did the Constitution authorize the House to impeach and the Senate to try an officer of the National Government? asked Martin. Only for "an indictable offense." Treason and bribery, specifically named in the Constitution as impeachable offenses, were also indictable. It was the same with "other high crimes and misdemeanors," the only additional acts for which impeachment was provided. To be sure, a judge might do deeds for which he could be indicted that would not justify his impeachment, as, for instance, physical assault "provoked by insolence." But let the House managers name one act for which a judge could be impeached that did not also subject him to indictment.

Congress could pass a law making an act criminal which had not been so before; but such a law applied only to deeds committed after, and not to those done before, its passage. Yet if an officer might, years after the event, be impeached, convicted, and punished for conduct perfectly legal at the time, "could the officers of Government ever know how to proceed?" Establish such a principle and "you leave your judges, and all your other officers, at the mercy of the prevailing party."

Had Chase "used unusual, rude and contemptuous expressions towards the prisoner's counsel" in the Callender case, as the articles of impeachment charged? Even so, this was "rather a violation of the principles of politeness, than the principles of law; rather the want of decorum, than the commission of a high crime and misdemeanor." Was a judge to be impeached and removed from office because his deportment was not elegant?

The truth was that Callender's counsel had not acted in his interest and had cared nothing about him; they had wished only "to hold up the prosecution as oppressive" in order to "excite public indignation against the court and the Government." Had not Hay just testified that he entertained "no hopes of convincing the court, and scarcely the faintest expectation of inducing the jury to believe that the sedition law was unconstitutional"; but that he had wished to make an "impression upon the public mind.... What barefaced, what unequalled hypocrisy doth he admit that he practiced on that occasion! What egregious trifling with the court!" exclaimed Martin.

When Chase had observed that Wirt's syllogism was a "non sequitur," the Judge, it seems, had "bowed." Monstrous! But "as bows, sir, according to the manner they are made, may ... convey very different meanings," why had not the witness who told of it, "given us a fac simile of it?" The Senate then could have judged of "the propriety" of the bow. "But it seems this bow, together with the 'non sequitur' entirely discomfitted poor Mr. Wirt, and down he sat 'and never word spake more!'" By all means let Chase be convicted and removed from the bench—it would never do to permit National judges to make bows in any such manner!

But alas for Chase! He had committed another grave offense—he had called William Wirt "young gentleman" in spite of the fact that Wirt was actually thirty years old and a widower. Perhaps Chase did not know "of these circumstances"; still, "if he had, considering that Mr. Wirt was a widower, he certainly erred on the right side ... in calling him a young gentleman."[545]

When the laughter of the Senate had subsided, Martin, dropping his sarcasm, once more emphasized the vital necessity of the independence of the Judiciary. "We boast" that ours is a "government of laws. But how can it be such, unless the laws, while they exist, are sacredly and impartially, without regard to popularity, carried into execution?" Only independent judges can do this. "Our property, our liberty, our lives, can only be protected and secured by such judges. With this honorable Court it remains, whether we shall have such judges!"[546]

Martin spoke until five o'clock without food or any sustenance, "except two glasses of wine and water"; he said he had not even breakfasted that morning, and asked permission to finish his argument next day.

When he resumed, he dwelt on the liberty of the press which Chase's application of the Sedition Law to Callender's libel was said to have violated. "My honorable client with many other respectable characters ... considered it [that law] as a wholesome and necessary restraint" upon the licentiousness of the press.[547] Martin then quoted with telling effect from Franklin's denunciation of newspapers.[548] "Franklin, himself a printer," had been "as great an advocate for the liberty of the press, as any reasonable man ought to be"; yet he had "declared that unless the slander and calumny of the press is restrained by some other law, it will be restrained by club law." Was not that true?

If men cannot be protected by the courts against "base calumniators, they will become their own avengers. And to the bludgeon, the sword or the pistol, they will resort for that purpose." Yet Chase stood impeached for having, as a judge, enforced the law against the author of "one of the most flagitious libels ever published in America."[549]

Throughout his address Martin mingled humor with logic, eloquence with learning.[550] Granted, he said, that Chase had used the word "damned" in his desultory conversation with Triplett during their journey in a stage. "However it may sound elsewhere in the United States, I cannot apprehend it will be considered very offensive, even from the mouth of a judge on this side of the Susquehanna;—to the southward of that river it is in familiar use ... supplying frequently the place of the word 'very' ... connected with subjects the most pleasing; thus we say indiscriminately a very good or a damned good bottle of wine, a damned good dinner, or a damned clever fellow."[551]

Martin's great speech deeply impressed the Senate with the ideas that Chase was a wronged man, that the integrity of the whole National Judicial establishment was in peril, and that impeachment was being used as a partisan method of placing the National Bench under the rod of a political party. And all this was true.

Robert Goodloe Harper closed for the defense. He was intolerably verbose, but made a good argument, well supported by precedents. In citing the example which Randolph had given as a good cause for impeachment—the refusal of a judge to hold court—Harper came near, however, making a fatal admission. This, said Harper, would justify impeachment, although perhaps not an indictment. Most of his speech was a repetition of points already made by Hopkinson, Key, and Martin. But Harper's remarks on Chase's charge to the Baltimore grand jury were new, that article having been left to him.

"Is it not lawful," he asked, "for an aged patriot of the Revolution to warn his fellow-citizens of dangers, by which he supposes their liberties and happiness to be threatened?" That was all that Chase's speech from the bench in Baltimore amounted to. Did his office take from a judge "the liberty of speech which belongs to every citizen"? Judges often made political speeches on the stump—"What law forbids [them] to exercise these rights by a charge from the bench?" That practice had "been sanctioned by the custom of this country from the beginning of the Revolution to this day."

Harper cited many instances of the delivery by judges of political charges to grand juries, beginning with the famous appeal to the people to fight for independence from British rule, made in a charge to a South Carolina grand jury in 1776.[552]

The blows of Chase's strong counsel, falling in unbroken succession, had shaken the nerve of the House managers. One of these, Joseph H. Nicholson of Maryland, now replied. Posterity would indeed be the final judge of Samuel Chase. Warren Hastings had been acquitted; "but is there any who hears me, that believes he was innocent?" The judgment of the Senate involved infinitely more than the fortunes of Chase; by it "must ultimately be determined whether justice shall hereafter be impartially administered or whether the rights of the citizen are to be prostrated at the feet of overbearing and tyrannical judges."

Nicholson denied that the House managers had "resorted to the forlorn hope of contending that an impeachment was not a criminal prosecution, but a mere inquest of office.... If declarations of this kind have been made, in the name of the Managers, I here disclaim them. We do contend that this is a criminal prosecution, for offenses committed in the discharge of high official duties."[553]

The Senate was dumbfounded, the friends of Chase startled with joyful surprise; a gasp of amazement ran through the overcrowded Chamber! Nicholson had abandoned the Republican position—and at a moment when Harper had all but admitted it to be sound. What could this mean but that the mighty onslaughts of Martin and Hopkinson had disconcerted the managers, or that Republican Senators were showing to the leaders signs of weakening in support of the party doctrine.

At any rate, Nicholson's admission was an irretrievable blunder. He should have stoutly championed his party's theory upon which Chase had been impeached and thus far tried, ignored the subject entirely, or remained silent. Sadly confused, he finally reversed his argument and swung back to the original Republican theory.

He cited many hypothetical cases where an officer could not be haled before a criminal court, but could be impeached. One of these must have furnished cause for secret mirth to many a Senator: "It is possible," said Nicholson, "that the day may arrive when a President of the United States ... may endeavor to influence [Congress] by holding out threats or inducements to them.... The hope of an office may be held out to a Senator; and I think it cannot be doubted, that for this the President would be liable to impeachment, although there is no positive law forbidding it."

Lucky for Nicholson that Martin had spoken before him and could not reply; fortunate for Jefferson that the "impudent Federal Bulldog,"[554] as the President afterward styled Martin, could not now be heard. For his words would have burned the paper on which the reporters transcribed them. Every Senator knew how patronage and all forms of Executive inducement and coercion had been used by the Administration in the passage of most important measures—the Judiciary repeal, the Pickering impeachment, the Yazoo compromise, the trial of Chase. From the floor of the House John Randolph had just denounced, with blazing wrath, Jefferson's Postmaster-General for offering Government contracts to secure votes for the Yazoo compromise.[555]

For two hours and a half Nicholson continued,[556] devoting himself mainly to the conduct of Chase during the trial of Fries. He closed by pointing out the inducements to a National judge to act as a tyrannical tool of a partisan administration—the offices with which he could be bribed, the promotions by which he could be rewarded. The influence of the British Ministry over the judges has been "too flagrant to be mistaken." For example, in Ireland "an overruling influence has crumbled [an independent judiciary] into ruins. The demon of destruction has entered their courts of justice, and spread desolation over the land. Execution has followed execution, until the oppressed, degraded and insulted nation has been made to tremble through every nerve, and to bleed at every pore."

The fate of Ireland would be that of America, if an uncontrolled Judiciary were allowed to carry out, without fear of impeachment, the will of a high-handed President, in order to win the preferments he had to offer. Already "some of our judges have been elevated to places of high political importance.... Let us nip the evil in the bud, or it may grow to an enormous tree, bearing destruction upon every branch."[557]

CÆsar A. Rodney of Delaware strove to repair the havoc Nicholson had wrought; he made it worse. The trial was, he said, "a spectacle truly solemn and impressive ... a trial of the first importance, because of the first impression; ... a trial ... whose novelty and magnitude have excited so much interest ... that it seems to have superseded for the moment, not only every other grave object or pursuit, but every other fashionable amusement or dissipation."[558]

Rodney flattered Burr, whose conduct of the trial had been "an example worthy of imitation." He cajoled the Senators, whose attitude he had "observed with heartfelt pleasure and honest pride"; and he warned them not to take as a precedent the case of Warren Hastings, "that destroyer of the people of Asia, that devastator of the East,"—murderer of men, violator of zenanas, destroyer of sacred treaties, but yet acquitted by the British House of Lords.

Counsel for Chase had spoken with "the fascinating voice of eloquence and the deluding tongue of ingenuity"; but Rodney would avoid "everything like declamation" and speak "in the temperate language of reason."[559] He was sure that "the weeping voice of history will be heard to deplore the oppressive acts and criminal excesses [of Samuel Chase].... In the dark catalogue of criminal enormities, perhaps few are to be found of deeper dye" than those named in the articles of impeachment. "The independence of the Judiciary, the political tocsin of the day, and the alarm bell of the night, has been rung through every change in our ears.... The poor hobby has been literally rode to death." Rodney was for a "rational independence of the Judiciary," but not for the "inviolability of judges more than of Kings.[560] In this country I am afraid the doctrine has been carried to such an extravagant length, that the Judiciary may be considered like a spoiled child."

An independent Judiciary, indeed! "We all know that an associate justice may sigh for promotion, and may be created a Chief Justice,[561] while ... more than one Chief Justice has been appointed a Minister Plenipotentiary."[562] With what result? Had judges stood aloof from politics—or had they "united in the Io triumphe which the votaries and idolators of power have sung to those who were seated in the car of Government? Have they made no offerings at the shrine of party; have they not preached political sermons from the bench, in which they have joined chorus with the anonymous scribblers of the day and the infuriate instruments of faction?"[563]

In this fashion Rodney began a song of praise of Jefferson, for the beneficence of whose Administration "the lamentable annals of mankind afford no example." After passing through many "citadels" and "Scean gates," and other forms of rhetorical architecture, he finally discovered Chase "seated in a curricle of passion" which the Justice had "driven on, PhÆton-like, ... with destruction, persecution, and oppression" following.

At last the orator attempted to discuss the law of the impeachment, taking the double ground that an officer could be removed for any act that two thirds of the Senate believed to be not "good behavior," and that the Chase impeachment was "a criminal prosecution." For parts of two days[564] Rodney examined every phase of the charges in a distracting mixture of high-flown language, scattered learning, extravagant metaphor, and jumbled logic.[565] His speech was a wretched performance, so cluttered with tawdry rhetoric and disjointed argument that it would have been poor even as a stump speech.

In an address that enraged the New England Federalists, Randolph closed for the House managers.[566] He was late in arriving at the Senate Chamber. He had been so ill the day before that Nicholson, because of Randolph's "habitual indisposition," had asked the Senate to meet two hours later than the usual time.[567] Sick as he was, without his notes (which he had lost), Randolph nevertheless made the best argument for the prosecution. Wasting no time, he took up the theory of impeachment upon which, he said, "the wildest opinions have been advanced"—for instance, "that an offense, to be impeachable, must be indictable." Why, then, had the article on impeachment been placed in the Constitution at all? Why "not have said, at once, that any ... officer ... convicted on indictment should (ipso facto) be removed from office? This would be coming at the thing by a short and obvious way."[568]

Suppose a President should veto every act of Congress "indiscriminately"; it was his Constitutional right to do so; he could not be indicted, but would anybody say he could not be impeached? Or if, at a short session, the President should keep back until the last moment all bills passed within the previous ten days, as the Constitution authorized him to do, so that it would be a physical impossibility for the two Houses to pass the rejected measures over the President's veto, he could not be indicted for this abuse of power; but surely "he could be impeached, removed and disqualified."[569]

Randolph's Virginia soul was deeply stirred by what he considered Chase's alternate effrontery and cowardice. Is such a character "fit to preside in a court of justice?... Today, haughty, violent, imperious; tomorrow, humble, penitent and submissive.... Is this a character to dispense law and justice to this nation? No, Sir!" Randolph then drew an admirable picture of the ideal judge: "firm, indeed, but temperate, mild though unyielding, neither a blustering bravo, nor a timid poltroon."[570]

As far as he could go without naming him, Randolph described John Marshall. Not without result had the politically experienced Chief Justice conciliated the House managers in the manner that had so exasperated the Federalist Senators. He would not thereafter be impeached if John Randolph could prevent.

With keen pleasure at the annoyance he knew his words would give to Jefferson,[571] Randolph continued to praise Marshall. The rejection of Colonel Taylor's testimony at the Callender trial was contrary to "the universal practice of our courts." On this point "what said the Chief Justice of the United States," on whose evidence Randolph said he specially relied? "He never knew such a case [to] occur before. He never heard a similar objection advanced by any court, until that instance. And this is the cautious and guarded language of a man placed in the delicate situation of being compelled to give testimony against a brother judge."

With an air of triumph Randolph asked: "Can anyone doubt Mr. Marshall's thorough acquaintance with our laws? Can it be pretended that any man is better versed in their theory and practice? And yet in all his extensive reading, his long and extensive practice, in the many trials of which he has been spectator, and the yet greater number at which he has assisted, he had never witnessed such a case." Chase alone had discovered "this fatal novelty, this new and horrible doctrine that threatens at one blow all that is valuable in our criminal jurisprudence."

Had Martin shown that Chase was right in requiring questions to be reduced to writing? "Here again," declared Randolph, "I bottom myself upon the testimony of the same great man, yet more illustrious for his abilities than for the high station that he fills, eminent as it is." And he recited the substance of Marshall's testimony on this point. Consider his description of the bearing of Chase toward counsel! "I again ask you, what said the Chief Justice?... And what did he look?[572] He felt all the delicacy of his situation, and, as he could not approve, he declined giving any opinion on the demeanor of his associate."[573] In such manner Randolph extolled Marshall.

Again he apostrophized the Chief Justice. If Fries and Callender "had had fair trials, our lips would have been closed in eternal silence. Look at the case of Logwood: The able and excellent judge whose worth was never fully known until he was raised to the bench ... uttered not one syllable that could prejudice the defense of the prisoner." Once more he contrasted the judicial manners and rulings of Marshall with those of Chase: "The Chief Justice knew that, sooner or later, the law was an over-match for the dishonest, and ... he disdained to descend from his great elevation to the low level of a public prosecutor."

The sick man spoke for two hours and a half, his face often distorted and his body writhing with pain. Finally his tense nerves gave way. Only public duty had kept him to his task, he said. "In a little time and I will dismiss you to the suggestions of your own consciences. My weakness and want of ability prevent me from urging my cause as I could wish, but"—here the overwrought and exhausted man broke into tears—"it is the last day of my sufferings and of yours."

Mastering his indisposition, however, Randolph closed in a passage of genuine power: "We adjure you, on behalf of the House of Representatives and of all the people of the United States, to exorcise from our Courts the baleful spirit of party, to give an awful memento to our judges. In the name of the nation, I demand at your hands the award of justice and of law."[574]

So ended this unequal forensic contest in one of the most fateful trials in American history. The whole country eagerly awaited tidings of the judgment to be rendered by the Senatorial tribunal. The fate of the Supreme Court, the character of the National Judiciary, the career of John Marshall, depended upon it. Even union or disunion was involved; for if Chase should be convicted, another and perhaps final impulse would be given to the secessionist movement in New England, which had been growing since the Republican attack on the National Judiciary in 1802.[575]

When the Senate convened at half-past twelve on March 1, 1805, a dense mass of auditors filled every inch of space in the Senate Chamber.[576] Down the narrow passageway men were seen bearing a couch on which lay Senator Uriah Tracy of Connecticut, pale and sunken from sickness. Feebly he rose and took one of the red-covered seats of the Senatorial judges.[577]

"The Sergeants-at-Arms will face the spectators and seize and commit to prison the first person who makes the smallest noise or disturbance," sternly ordered Aaron Burr.

"The secretary will read the first article of impeachment," he directed.

"Senator Adams of Massachusetts! How say you? Is Samuel Chase, the respondent, guilty of high crimes and misdemeanors as charged in the article just read?"

"Not guilty!" responded John Quincy Adams.

When the name of Stephen R. Bradley, Republican Senator from Vermont, was reached, he rose in his place and voted against conviction. The auditors were breathless, the Chamber filled with the atmosphere of suspense. It was the first open break in the Republican ranks. Two more such votes and the carefully planned battle would be lost to Jefferson and his party.

"Not guilty!" answered John Gaillard, Republican Senator from South Carolina.

Another Republican defection and all would be over. It came from the very next Senator whose name Aaron Burr pronounced, and from one whose answer will forever remain an enigma.

"Senator Giles of Virginia! How say you? Is Samuel Chase guilty of the high crimes and misdemeanors as charged in the articles just read?"

"Not guilty!"

Only sixteen Senators voted to impeach on the first article, nine Republicans aligning themselves with the nine Federalists.

The vote on the other articles showed varying results; on the fourth, fourteen Senators responded "Guilty!"; on the fifth, the Senate was unanimous for Chase.

Upon the eighth article—Chase's political charge to the Baltimore grand jury—the desperate Republicans tried to recover, Giles now leading them. Indeed, it may be for this that he cast his first vote with his party brethren from the North—he may have thought thus to influence them on the one really strong charge against the accused Justice. If so, his stratagem was futile. The five Northern Republicans (Bradley and Smith of Vermont, Mitchell and Smith of New York, and John Smith of Ohio) stood firm for acquittal as did the obstinate John Gaillard of South Carolina.[578]

The punctilious Burr ordered the names of Senators and their recorded answers to be read for verification.[579] He then announced the result: "It appears that there is not a constitutional majority of votes finding Samuel Chase, Esq. guilty of any one article. It therefore becomes my duty to declare that Samuel Chase, Esq. stands acquitted of all the articles exhibited by the House of Representatives against him."[580]

The fight was over. There were thirty-four Senators, nine of them Federalists, twenty-five Republicans. Twenty-two votes were necessary to convict. At their strongest the Republicans had been able to muster less than four fifths of their entire strength. Six of their number—the New York and Vermont Senators, together with John Gaillard of South Carolina and John Smith of Ohio—had answered "not guilty" on every article.

For the first time since his appointment, John Marshall was secure as the head of the Supreme Bench.[581] For the first time since Jefferson's election, the National Judiciary was, for a period, rendered independent. For the first time in five years, the Federalist members of the Nation's highest tribunal could go about their duties without fear that upon them would fall the avenging blade of impeachment which had for half a decade hung over them. One of the few really great crises in American history had passed.[582]

"The greatest and most important trial ever held in this nation has terminated justly," wrote Senator Plumer to his son. "The venerable judge whose head bears the frost of seventy winters,[583] is honorably acquitted. I never witnessed, in any place, such a display of learning as the counsel for the accused exhibited."[584]

Chagrin, anger, humiliation, raged in Randolph's heart. His long legs could not stride as fast as his frenzy, when, rushing from the scene of defeat, he flew to the floor of the House. There he offered an amendment to the Constitution providing that the President might remove National judges on the joint address of both Houses of Congress.[585] "Tempest in the House," records Cutler.[586]

Nicholson was almost as frantic with wrath, and quickly followed with a proposal so to amend the Constitution that State Legislatures might, at will, recall Senators.[587]

Republicans now began to complain to their party foes of one another. Over a "rubber of whist" with John Quincy Adams, Senator Jackson of Georgia, even before the trial, had spoken "slightingly both of Mr. John Randolph and of Mr. Nicholson";[588] and this criticism of Republicans inter se now increased.

Jefferson's feelings were balanced between grief and glee; his mourning over the untoward result of his cherished programme of judicial reform was ameliorated by his pleasure at the overthrow of the unruly Randolph,[589] who had presumed to dissent from the President's Georgia land policy.[590] The great politician's cup of disappointment, which the acquittal of Chase had filled, was also sweetened by the knowledge that Republican restlessness in the Northern States would be quieted; the Federalists who were ready, on other grounds, to come to his standard would be encouraged to do so; and the New England secession propaganda would be deprived of a strong argument. He confided to the gossipy William Plumer, the Federalist New Hampshire Senator, that "impeachment is a farce which will not be tried again."[591]

The Chief Justice of the United States, his peril over, was silent and again serene, his wonted composure returned, his courage restored. He calmly awaited the hour when the wisdom of events should call upon him to render another and immortal service to the American Nation. That hour was not to be long delayed.

[430] Giles was appointed Senator August 11, 1804, by the Governor to fill the unexpired term of Abraham Venable who resigned in order that Giles might be sent to the Senate. In December the Legislature elected him for the full term. Upon taking his seat Giles immediately became the Republican leader of the Senate. (See Anderson, 93.)