Chapter 27
But the Senator....
Judicial clerk George Langston thought about how lawyers, even some abolitionists since the Louisiana slave case, revered the Chief Justice. Oftentimes members of the bench fell in line behind his opinions. The power of his judicial mind attracted national attention. George's favorite description of the Judge had come from U.S. Supreme Court Justice Joseph Story:
A great Olympus at the center of the bench -- unyielding, unbending, the very essence of justice personified.
George felt at one with the Judge's nobility. Now, he feared for the Judge.
George stepped into the Judge's chambers. The Judge sat behind a grand, imposing desk worthy of a Chief Justice. George took note of the mahogany wood, the flawless mahogany wood in mint condition. He noticed the reflection of the wall on the desk surface. The base stood strong and sturdy, like the Chief Judge. The bookshelves and rich red carpeting gave the chambers the feel of a library albeit a private library. More times than not, the final expression of state law came from this room.
"Settle down," barked the Chief Justice.
"Yes sir," George responded.
"You are no good to me, breathless," the Chief Justice said.
"Yes, sir," George said as he composed himself. The sweat bathed George's forehead. He wiped his brow and took a deep breath.
"Judge, its Senator Lynch. We were having a brandy in his office and..." began George before his boss cut George off.
"Did I give you permission to meet with the Senator?" demanded the Chief Justice.
"No. I researched the rules of the court. The Senator had no pending business before the Court," explained George.
"George, I am disappointed, no, strike that. I am very disappointed in your conduct. Even if the rules of the court do not address the 'novel' circumstances of a trusted and confidential Clerk to the Chief Justice meeting with a sitting United States Senator, your conduct raises the appearance of impropriety." The Judge's nostrils flared as if bombarded with a whiff of ill repute. "We are held to a higher standard than most lawyers because our actions under state law are final and binding."
"But Judge, we have lunched with the Senator at the Spottswood Cafe," said George.
"That is different. We were in a public place where there is no expectation of privacy."
"I apologize," said George. "It will never happen again."
"Now, tell me what you're so excited about," asked the Judge.
"The Senator wants to know what he will get," answered George.
"Get for what?" bellowed the Judge.
"For ferreting out William Babbitt Haynes," said Langston.
"I won't stand for it. Who does he think I am? Some corner store gimp down on Main Street in Granville? I am the Chief Justice of the Massachusetts State Supreme Court. How dare he impugn my integrity! How dare he! The Judge's nostrils were blazing like iron ore bellows. He slammed his fist on the mahogany desk, causing papers to fly away from his fury. George cowered, afraid for his job. The Judge grabbed a stack of law reports and flung them across the chambers in an uncontrollable rage. He raged against the Senator. He raged against rogue abolitionists. He raged against circumstance.
Should I leave?" George asked in a chastened voice.
"No, you don't leave until I tell you to leave," ordered the Judge. The Judge's face had turned red. Spittle spewed from his mouth as he spoke. "Damn you, I won't have it. I won't have my clerk meeting with the Senator or any elected public officer again unless I am present. Is that clear?" demanded the Judge.
"Yes," said George.
"Is...that...clear?" demanded the Judge again.
"Yes," said George. All of the starch had been taken out of George for the day.
"If you ever, 'ever' meet with any elected public official in my absence, your employment with be terminated," vowed the Judge. "You may go now."
"Thank you, Judge," said the reprimanded George. Like a royal supplicant, he walked backwards out of the chamber never turning his back on the Judge. Before closing the door, he saw the Judge hurl his inkstand against the window, shattering the glass pane on impact.
Alone in his chambers, the Chief Justice seethed. Ferreting out of William Babbitt Haynes did not cause beads of sweat to appear on the Judge's brow. No, the Chief Justice knew a darker possibility had entered his inner sanctum. Haynes had died in a ship wreck. Could the tragedy in some way be traced back to the Judge? There were only two witnesses to any causation -- George and the Senator. The Judge knew he had placed the fear of God into George's soul. George was not a problem.
But the Senator....