Chapter 19
The Morality of Satisfactions
Justice White owed a satisfaction to Senator Lynch. It would not be the last time the paths of the Chief Justice and the Senator would cross. Some wondered whether Massachusetts could contain the two of them, each man a master of his universe. On this February 1838 day, White rejoiced. He had his man, William Babbitt Haynes. He knew the town. He knew the law firm. He knew the white alias. Justice White directed his law clerk George Langston to send out a missive to all members of the State Bar. The correspondence reminded attorneys both citizenship and proof of good moral character were required for admission to the state bar. Evidence of deceit as to skin color constituted prima facie proof of deficient moral character.
The Chief Justice's letter created a firestorm. Most lawyers felt Justice White had gone too far in singling out a law apprentice for strict scrutiny. At the same time, most lawyers feared the wrath of the Chief Justice and kept their reservations and concerns private. A few abolitionist lawyers driven by principles and ideals spoke out against the intimidation based on race. Wendell Phillips said the State Constitution prohibited discrimination based on race. As a state actor of unquestioned authority, the Chief Justice had used his power for odious ends. Sheriff Sumner called for an investigation into the matter, a direct challenge to the Chief Justice but a challenge the Sheriff could afford to make since he no longer practiced law. Elias Gray Loring, the winner of the recent fugitive slave case before the Chief Justice, reasoned that the 1780 State Constitution established the clear citizenship of colored people. Nonetheless, widespread social conditions forced citizens of African descent to conceal their race if they could. How could an act of survival be considered "an act of immoral character?"
Perhaps, the greatest outrage came from an abolitionist lawyer in the sights of the Chief Justice, General Samuel Fessenden. If a committee of anti-slavery radicals had set out to create a lawyer to secure public opinion in Massachusetts, one could not have done better than the lawyer from Granville, Samuel Fessenden. Fessenden came from a long line of men of conviction. Samuel's grandfather, William Fessenden, had graduated from Harvard College in 1737 at a time when a college education was an unusual accomplishment. Samuel's father, Rev. William Fessenden, graduated from Harvard College in 1768 and became the first minister in Fryesburg, Massachusetts. In an early sign of independence, Samuel Fessenden did not attend Harvard College like his father and grandfather. Instead, Fessenden graduated from Dartmouth College with a high reputation as a scholar in 1806. He studied in the office of Judge Dana in Fryeburg and, after three years of study, was admitted to the Bar in 1809 and opened up an office in Granville.
Fessenden lived an uncommon life of ease with blacks in Granville. He received colored persons into his house, he took them with him to church, he visited them in their homes, and encouraged them in every way to give them self-respect and a place in society. Fessenden extended every courtesy and respect to black residents.
Why did Fessenden chose to practice law in Granville, Massachusetts? Because he admired Rev. Lemuel Haynes. Rev. Haynes grew up in Granville.
In an Open Letter to the Chief Justice, General Fessenden wrote about the lofty family expectations the Chief Justice had lived up to and the suppressed aspirations of black people. Fessenden put it to Justice White that William Babbitt Haynes had every legal right to change his name and to benefit from white skin in his chosen profession. Fessenden said attorneys had to stand up for right despite the consequences. Fessenden dared the Chief Justice to issue discipline or stop the bar admission of the law clerk formally known as William Babbitt Haynes.
"Table for Two, Mr. Chief Justice," asked Matrie d' Floyd Patterson. Patterson did not stand erect with regal bearing. His back had given him trouble for the past few days.
"Yes, my regular table ," said the Chief Justice accompanied by his clerk, George Langston. Patterson escorted the Chief Justice and George to the table beneath the Chief Justice's portrait. The two men were seated. A waiter presented them with menus.
"He made me out as a bigot. I'm not a bigot. I will control admission to the Bar. That is my legal duty," bellowed the Chief Justice to George. "We cannot admit lawyers who lie and conceal their race."
"What General Fessenden has done is outrageous. He has challenged your authority as Chief Justice," said George.
"I won't have it," vowed the Chief Justice.
"Fessenden created a straw man, this privileged bully who would go after a poor colored man. Its not true. I've worked hard throughout my career. No one gave me anything. I had to campaign for every political office I held. I had to suffer through the scandal with my former law partner. I had to find my niche in the law, corporate representation, after years of disappointment in trial litigation. I have sacrificed the wealth of my heirs to serve the public. Fessenden ignores all of these struggles in my life," the Chief Justice said.
"Its about sentiment, radical agitation. The colored man is the long-suffering object of sympathy. The white man is the care-free king on the hill," said George. "Its a story created to inflame passions."
At this moment, Senator Lynch walked into the restaurant. Both the Chief Justice and George saw the Senator. Both men stood up as the Senator walked over. "Mr. Chief Justice, it is a pleasure," said the Senator.
"The pleasure is mine. George, I would like to introduce you to Senator Lynch." George shook the Senator's hand. "Will you join us for lunch?" asked the Chief Justice.
"Why, yes, I will," said the Senator. A black waiter presented a menu to Lynch.
"I read the rant from Fessenden. He's an extremist, you know," said the Senator.
"Of course, emotional drivel," replied the Chief Justice. The Senator never lost an opportunity to secure the color line. This opportunity seemed heaven-sent.
"Fessenden has no respect for precedent. He lives in his mind," said the Senator. "I live in the real world."
The Senator lived in a political world. His livelihood depended upon his reading of people and their motivations. The Chief Justice was just another constituent, another man to be sized up and exploited, manipulated and led by the nose. "An hour ago, I received a letter from an ally in Granville. Did you know Fessenden walked Haynes into the Court of Common Pleas, that Haynes sat beside Fessenden in Court and assisted Fessenden with examination of a white witness?" Haynes sitting alone in a country law office copying pleadings with no public contact did not shock the conscience. The boldness of what Fessenden and Haynes had done -- a raw move to send history in the way of one's desire. This caused the jaw to drop and the eyes to widen and the loss for words. The Senator took in the reaction of the Chief Justice before continuing.
"Mr. Chief Justice, I am at your disposal. Give me the word and I will deal with the colored man," offered the Senator. George sensed the impropriety at hand. He said nothing. The Chief Justice did not feel comfortable in the world of race. He much preferred the worlds of business doctrine, commerce power, and duty of care. He wanted the colored issue to go away. He wanted the colored law clerk to go away.
"Do what you have to do but tell me nothing of it," said the Chief Justice.
"Done," said the Senator as lunch arrived.
Such a balancing act for those trying to help anyone who didn't fit the mold of society in those days. My hat is off to anyone that was willing to push those barriers. General Fessenden and Lester Filley were two of them that intersect with William Babbitt Haynes.