Читать книгу Ten Years in Washington: Inside Life and Scenes in Our National Capital as a Woman Sees Them - Mary Clemmer - Страница 18

Table of Contents

Memories of Clay, Webster and Calhoun—Legal Giants of the Past—Stately Serenity of the Modern Court—“Wise Judgment and Wine-Dinners”—The Supreme Court in Session—Soporific Influences—A Glimpse of the Veritable “Bench”—The Ladies’ Gallery—The Chief Justices of the Past—Taney Left Out in the Cold—His Apotheosis—Chief Justice Chase—Black Robed Dignitaries—An Undignified Procession—The “Crier” in Court—Antique Proclamation—The Consultation Room—Every Man in his Proper Place—Gowns of Office—Reminiscence of Judge McClean—“Uncle Henry and his Charge”—Fifty Years in Office.

One of the few rooms in the Capitol wherein harmony and beauty meet and mingle, is the Old Senate Chamber, now the Supreme Court Room of the United States.

Here Clay, and Webster, and Calhoun,—those giants of the past, whom octogenarians still deplore with all their remembered and forgotten peers,—once held high conclave. Defiance and defeat, battle and triumph, argument and oratory, wisdom and folly once held here their court. It is now the chamber of peace. Tangled questions concerning life, liberty and the pursuit of personal happiness are still argued within these walls, but never in tones which would drown the sound of a dropping pin. Every thought is weighed, every word measured that is uttered here. The judges who sit in silence to listen and decide, have outlived the tumult of youth and the summer of manhood’s fiercer battles. They have earned fruition; they have won their gowns—which, while life lasts, can never be worn by others. Theirs is the mellow afternoon of wise judgment and wine-dinners.

In the Court room itself we seem to have reached an atmosphere where it is always afternoon. The door swings to and fro noiselessly, at the pull of the usher’s string. The spectators move over a velvet carpet, which sends back no echo, to their velvet cushioned seats ranged against the outer-walls. A single lawyer arguing some constitutional question, drones on within the railed inclosure of the Court; or a single judge in measured tones mumbles over the pages of his learned decision in some case long drawn out. Unless you are deeply interested in it you will not stay long. The atmosphere is too soporific, you soon weary of absolute silence and decorum, and depart. The chamber itself is semi-circular, with snow white walls and windows crimson-curtained. It has a domed ceiling studded with stuccoed mouldings and sky-lights. The technical “bench” is a row of leather backed arm-chairs ranged in a row on a low dais. Over the central chair of the Chief Justice a gilt eagle looks down from a golden rod. Over this eagle, and parallel with the bench below, runs a shallow gallery, from which many fine ladies of successive administrations have looked down on the gods below. At intervals around the white walls are set brackets on which are perched the first four Chief Justices—John Jay, John Rutledge, Oliver Ellsworth and John Marshall. There have been but six Chief Justices of the Supreme Court since its beginning. Chief Justice Taney’s bust for years was left out in the cold on a pedestal within a recess of one of the windows of the Senate wing. It was voted in the Senate that it should there wait a certain number of expiatory years until in the fulness of time it should be sufficiently absolved to enter the historic heaven of its brethren.

One more is yet to be added—the grand head and face of Chief Justice Chase. The May flowers have scarcely faded since he held high court here alone. As ever his was the place of honor. A crown of white rose-buds shed incense upon his head—placed there by the beautiful daughter who crowned him in death, as in life, the first of men. Crosses, anchors and columns of stainless blossoms were heaped high above his head. Here in the silence of death, for one day and night, the great Chief Justice held Supreme Court alone.

During the session of the Supreme Court, the hour of meeting is 11 A. M. Precisely at that hour a procession of black-robed dignitaries, kicking up their long gowns very high with their heavy boots, may be seen wending their way from the robing-room to the Supreme Court room. They are preceded by the Marshal, who, entering by a side-door, leads directly to the Judges’ stand, and, pausing before the desk, exclaims:

“The Honorable the Chief Justice and Associate Justices of the Supreme Court of the United States.”

With these words all present rise, and stand to receive the Justices filing in. Each Justice passes to his chair. The Judges bow to the lawyers; the lawyers bow to the Judges; then all sit down. The Crier then opens the Court with these words:

“O, yea! O, yea! O, yea! All persons having business with the honorable the Supreme Court of the United States are admonished to draw near and give their attendance, as the Court is now sitting. God save the United States and this honorable Court.”

At the close of this antique little speech, the Chief Justice motions to the lawyer whose case is to be argued, and that gentleman rises, advances to the front, and begins his argument.

The chairs of the Judges are all placed in the order of their date of appointment. On either side of the Chief Justice sit the senior Judges, while the last appointed sit at the farther ends of each row. In the robing-room, their robes, and coats and hats, hang in the same order. In the consultation-room, where the Judges meet on Saturday to consult together over important cases presented, their chairs around the table are arranged in the same order, the Chief Justice presiding at the head. Both the robing and consultation-rooms command beautiful views from their windows of the city, the Potomac, and the hills of Virginia. In the former, the Judges exchange their civic dress for the high robes of office. These are made of black silk or satin, and are almost identical with the silk robe of an Episcopal clergyman. The gown worn by Judge McCleanMcClean still hangs upon its hook as when he hung it there for the last time—years and years ago. The consultation-room is across the hall from the Law Library, whose books are in constant demand by the lawyers and Judges of the Supreme Court. This room is in charge of “Uncle Henry,” a colored man, who has held this office for fifty years, and, at the age of eighty, still fulfils his duties with all the alacrity and twice the devotion of a much younger man.