Supreme Decisions, Combined Volume

Great Constitutional Cases and Their Impact

Melvin I. Urofsky

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2018
• ISBN:
  9780429972621
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

Supreme Decisions: Great Constitutional Cases and Their Impact, Volumes 1 and 2, covers twenty-four Supreme Court cases (twelve per volume) that have shaped American constitutional law. Interpretive chapters shed light on the nuances of each case, the individuals involved, and the social, political, and cultural context at that particular moment in history. Discussing cases from nearly every decade in a two-hundred-year span, Melvin I. Urofsky expounds on the political climate of the United States from the country's infancy through the new millennium. Featuring Marbury v. Madison, Dred Scott v. Sandford, Miranda v. Arizona, Brown v. Board of Education, and many more, this text covers foundational rulings and more recent decisions. Written with students in mind, Melvin I. Urofsky's voice offers compelling and fascinating accounts of American legal milestones.

chapter one

The Case of the Disappointed Office-Seeker

Marbury v. Madison (1803)

LOOKING BACK, we can see that the election of 1800 was an important step forward in the growth of an American democratic state. For the first time in Anglo-American history, a government had been turned out by the people at the polls, and its leaders peacefully handed over power to the opposition. This, however, did not seem so clear at the time. Although the Jeffersonian Republicans had won control of the executive and legislative branches, the judiciary remained firmly in the hands of the defeated Federalists. The idea of a divided government was foreign to Americans at the time; in the English tradition the king chose the prime minister and appointed the judges.

Thomas Jefferson believed that he would not able to implement the democratic policies he favored so long as the Federalists controlled the judiciary, and especially with his cousin and rival, John Marshall, as the new chief justice of the Supreme Court. The battle between Jefferson and the judiciary played out in several venues during the eight years of Jefferson’s presidency, and included the abolishment of some courts, the impeachment and near-conviction of Justice Samuel Chase, and the treason trial of Aaron Burr. None of them, however, would have a greater influence on American constitutional development than William Marbury’s case. It was not the opening gun of the war between Jefferson and the Court, but it was the most decisive. Aside from political differences, much of the situation resulted from efforts by John Adams and the Federalists to retain control of the judiciary, and Jefferson’s determination not to let that happen.

The Judiciary Act of 1801 and the Midnight Judges

In the months after the Federalists lost the election of 1800, but before Jefferson took over the White House, the Federalist-controlled Congress passed the Judiciary Act of 1801 along with the Organic Act for the District of Columbia. Along with other provisions, both laws created a number of new judicial offices, which the outgoing president, John Adams, proceeded to fill mostly with members of his own party.

At the time, the newly created District of Columbia consisted of two counties, Washington (the present-day area of Washington, D.C.) and Alexandria (which is now Alexandria, Virginia). On March 2, 1801, Adams nominated twenty-three men to be justices of the peace in Washington County and nineteen in Alexandria County. After the Senate confirmed these appointments on March 3, Adams signed the official commissions, not finishing until late into the night of his last day in office (hence the group came to be known as the “Midnight Judges”). Secretary of State John Marshall, who had just been named chief justice of the Supreme Court, affixed the great seal of the United States, and that same evening his brother, James Marshall, delivered some of the commissions to men in Alexandria, who ultimately served their term in office. But none of the twenty-three justices of the peace in Washington County received their commissions before Adams left office at noon on March 4.

When Jefferson took office he discovered the signed, sealed, but as yet undelivered commissions. He reappointed the six Republicans who had been on Adams’s list, as well as six of the Federalists, but refused to name the remaining eleven men. Most of the Federalists who did not receive their commission accepted their fate passively, but not William Marbury. Without the commission—without the actual parchment and seal—he could not serve in the office. So Marbury went to court to force the Jefferson administration to deliver the commission. The resulting case led to one of the most important decisions in American constitutional history.

William Marbury

William Marbury had been born in 1762 on a small tobacco plantation in Piscataway, Maryland. His career progressed slowly in the 1780s, since Maryland government and politics were in a constant turmoil. Not until the adoption of the U.S. Constitution and the establishment of a new national government did Maryland’s economic fortunes revive; when that occurred, Marbury, aligned with the leading Federalists in Maryland, stood ready to prosper. In 1796 Marbury was named agent of the state of Maryland, the most powerful unelected office in the state. Although he and his colleagues in the office apparently did not shirk from using their positions to advance their own fortunes—a practice not uncommon then or now—unlike many other Maryland officials at the time, Marbury was never tainted with even the slightest tinge of corruption. He prospered not only because of the new federal government’s successful fiscal policies, but also because of his financial acumen. In addition, he helped other important members of the Maryland elite to realize profit from the federal plan, earning their trust and gratitude.

In the bitterly contested presidential election of 1800, Marbury declared his support for John Adams, and when Congress finally chose Thomas Jefferson as the winner on February 17, 1801, a mob ran through the capital demanding that everyone put candles in their windows to indicate support for the new president. When they came to Marbury’s house, he would have none of it, and stood up to the mob’s leaders until they finally moved on, leaving him in peace. To reward Marbury for his loyalty, Adams named him one of the forty-two justices of the peace Congress had authorized for the capital. Many, like Marbury, had been staunch supporters of John Adams and his party. Although Jefferson did not revoke the commissions of all of Adams’s appointees, he believed the new city did not need so many justices of the peace. The new president believed—correctly—that Marbury had been one of the Federalist Party’s most partisan supporters, and withheld his commission. And, because John Marshall had not delivered the commission, technically Marbury had never held the office.

But Marbury wanted it, both for its prestige and political influence, which could translate into wealth. But although the commission had been signed and sealed, it had not been delivered, and without the document itself, Marbury could neither exercise the powers of the office nor collect the fees for his services. He needed the actual commission, and decided to go to court to get it. Under the provisions of the Judiciary Act of 1789, Congress had given the Supreme Court the power to issue writs of mandamus, which in effect direct a public official to carry out an act or duty. Marbury sought such a writ against Secretary of State James Madison to force him to hand over the commission that Adams had signed. The whole situation resulted from efforts by Adams and the Federalists to retain control of the judiciary, and Jefferson’s determination not to let that happen. The politics involved in the effort to control the judiciary explains much of what followed.

The First Step—Repeal of the 1801 Judiciary Act

The Judiciary Act of 1801 created sixteen new circuit court judges, an expansion of the court system that the growing nation needed. But those benefits have been obscured by charges that the Federalists, ousted from authority by the people, sought to cling to power by packing the courts with their allies. In Jefferson’s words, the Federalists “retired into the judiciary as a stronghold.” Had these appointments been available to the Republicans, their complaints might not have been so loud, for many in that party also recognized the need to correct the deficiencies in the system. On the other hand, had the goal of Adams and his party been only judicial reform, the retiring president might have been wise enough to leave a few of the new judicial seats vacant, allowing Jefferson the opportunity to make some selections. But Adams appointed men to all the vacancies—and with great haste—filling the judiciary with dozens of Federalists, many of whom would have tenure for life.

In 1801 not a single Republican sat on a federal court, and nothing but death or resignation—both unpredictable factors—would allow Jefferson to rectify that situation. Adams’s appointment of John Marshall as chief justice did not please the new president at all, for there had long been ill will between them, and Marshall’s federalism—centered on a strong national government with extensive constitutional powers—stood solidly opposed to Jefferson’s belief in a limited national government with the majority of power lodged in the states. Something had to be done, Jefferson believed, to prevent the Federalist bench from hindering democracy. As Republican representative William Giles asserted, “[T]he revolution is incomplete, so long as that strong fortress is in possession of the enemy.” Giles advocated that Jefferson remove “all of [the judges] … indiscriminately.”

Any proposed solution raised constitutional questions. Since judges served for life, no one knew if Congress could simply abolish judgeships in order to get rid of particular judges. Certainly if this were possible, then the whole idea of life tenure for judges would be in doubt. Nothing would prevent Jefferson and his allies from abolishing all existing courts, including the Supreme Court, and then re-creating them a short time later, so that the new president could appoint his allies to the bench. The process might well be repeated whenever a new administration took office. Such political tinkering with the courts strikes modern ears as unfathomable, but since the Republicans proceeded to do just that, it is clear that they worried very little about the constitutionality of an act that fired judges.

Jefferson, who often claimed to be a strict constructionist when it came to reading the Constitution, nevertheless saw no constitutional problems with the idea. His plan was to abolish the new courts and, in the process, eliminate the judges. Shortly after his inauguration, Jefferson told a friend that “the judge of course stands till the law is repealed, which we trust will be at the next Congress.” On January 6, 1802, John Breckinridge of Kentucky, a strong supporter of Jefferson, introduced a bill in the Senate to repeal the Judiciary Act of 1801. After intense debate, the Repeal Act narrowly passed the upper chamber, 16–15, on February 3; the House, where the Republicans enjoyed a large majority, enacted the Senate bill without amendment on March 8, 1802.

Congress then passed the Judiciary Act of 1802, increasing the number of circuits from three to six, with each Supreme Court justice assigned to only one, where he would hold court with the local district judges on circuit twice a year. In addition, the new law provided for only one term of the Supreme Court each year instead of the two terms that had been in effect since 1789, thus further reducing the physical strain on the justices by eliminating an arduous trip to the capital. The new term would begin on the first Monday of every February. This provision, which certainly made sense in light of the Court’s caseload, nonetheless provoked much criticism. Because this act was passed in April 1802, the Supreme Court would not meet again until February 1803. Since the last meeting had been in December 1801, this meant that the Supreme Court would not meet for fourteen months, and tensions simmered in the interim.

Critics of the 1802 act claimed that the Republicans feared that the Supreme Court at the anticipated June term would have found the Repeal Act unconstitutional. Jefferson’s friend James Monroe, now governor of Virginia, warned that if the public viewed the postponement as “an unconstitutional oppression of the judiciary by the legislature,” then it might also see the Repeal Act as unconstitutional. He urged the president to veto the bill, but Jefferson believed that the delay would work in the party’s favor; by the time the Court met in 1803, the president predicted, the furor would have died down.

Chief Justice John Marshall privately “doubted the constitutionality of the repeal.” But Marshall was shrewd enough as a politician to know when he could not win. He told Justice William Paterson that he would “be bound by the opinion of the majority of the Judges,” knowing that in fact within the Court only Justice Samuel Chase publicly argued against the constitutionality of the repeal. When a specific challenge did reach the Court in Stuart v. Laird (1803), the Court, in an opinion by Paterson, affirmed the constitutionality of the repeal. What had seemed so grave a question at the time passed quickly into obscurity. One reason for Marshall’s acquiescence may have been his desire to avoid a direct confrontation with President Jefferson in a manner that would allow Jefferson to obstruct the Court’s opinion. Instead, Marshall found a better way to challenge Jefferson, in an opinion delivered six days before the decision in Stuart v. Laird. In Marbury v. Madison, Marshall confronted Jefferson—and beat him on a major constitutional point—in such a manner that Jefferson could not respond.

Marbury v. Madison

Jefferson claimed that delivery was essential for a commission to be valid, just as for a deed or bond, and that by withholding the document, the entire nomination had been voided. Marbury and his lawyer, former attorney general Charles Lee, argued that signing and sealing the commission completed the transaction, and that delivery constituted a mere formality. But formality or not, without the actual piece of parchment, Marbury could not enter into the duties of office. The Court, aware of Jefferson’s hostility, might well have dismissed the suit immediately for lack of jurisdiction, but instead it aroused Republican resentment by agreeing to hear the case at its next term. When Marshall convened the Court in February 1803, Marbury v. Madison stood on the docket.

Some scholars have questioned whether Marshall should have removed himself from this case because of his prior involvement as Adams’s secretary of state. Certainly, later judicial standards would have called for recusement, but at the time only financial connections to a case led judges to step aside, as Marshall did in suits regarding Virginia lands in which he had an interest. The Jeffersonians, always quick to criticize Marshall, did not even raise the issue of his sitting in the Marbury case.

The merits of the case, by any reasonable interpretation, can only be described as minor. By the time the Court heard it, the wisdom of Jefferson’s reducing the number of justices of the peace had been confirmed; Marbury’s original term was almost half over; and most people, Federalists and Republicans alike, considered the issue moot. But Marshall, despite the political difficulties involved, recognized that he had a perfect case with which to expound a basic principle, and by his persistence, he utilized it to lay the foundation for the Court to assume the primary role in constitutional interpretation.

It is questionable if Marshall had planned any grand strategy when he and the Court agreed to hear the case. By the time the justices heard arguments, however, the chief justice recognized the hostility of the Jeffersonian Republicans and the dilemma it posed to the Court. If it issued the mandamus, the Court had no power to enforce it, and Jefferson would certainly ignore it. If, on the other hand, the Court refused to issue the writ, it would appear that the judiciary had backed down before the executive, and this Marshall would not allow. The solution he chose has properly been termed a tour de force. In one stroke, Marshall managed to establish the power of the Court as the ultimate arbiter of the Constitution, to chastise the Jefferson administration for its failure to obey the law, and yet to avoid having the Court’s authority challenged by the administration.

Marshall, adopting a style that would mark all his major opinions, reduced the case to a few basic issues. He asked three questions: Did Marbury have the right to the commission? If he did, and his right had been violated, did the law provide him with a remedy? If so, did mandamus from the Supreme Court constitute the proper remedy? The last question, the crucial one, dealt with the jurisdiction of the Court in a particular case, and should normally have been answered first, since a negative response would have obviated the need to decide the other issues. But that would have denied Marshall the opportunity to criticize Jefferson for what the chief justice saw as flouting the laws.

For the most part, following the arguments of Marbury’s counsel on the first two questions, Marshall held that the validity of a commission existed once a president signed it and transmitted it to the secretary of state to affix the seal. Presidential discretion ended there, for the political decision had been made, and the secretary of state had only a ministerial task to perform—delivering the commission. In this, the law bound him, like anyone else, to obey. Marshall drew a careful and lengthy distinction between the political acts of the president and the secretary, in which the courts had no business interfering, and the simple administrative execution that, governed by law, the judiciary could review. “The province of the court,” he wrote, “is, solely, to decide on the rights of individuals, not to inquire how the executive, or executive officers, perform duties in which they have a discretion. Questions in their nature political, or which are, by the constitution and laws, submitted to the executive, can never be made in this Court.”

Having decided that Marbury had the right to the commission, Marshall next turned to the question of remedy, and once again, it appeared that the Court would find for the plaintiff. Mandamus would require Secretary Madison either to provide the original commission or secure a copy from the record. So far, those sitting in the courtroom listening to the chief justice read the opinion in his hard, dry voice must have assumed that Marbury had won his case. But then, having lectured Jefferson and Madison for their sins in “sport[ing] away the vested rights of others,” Marshall turned to the crucial third question. Now at last, he declared that Congress, in granting the Supreme Court the power of mandamus in original jurisdicti...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Table of Contents
• Reviewer Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• Volume 1: To 1896
• Volume 2: Since 1896
• Constitution of the United States
• Glossary
• Index