Landmark Law Cases and American Society – serie

Harold Hyman argues that in two cases - In Re Turner (1867) and Texas v. White (1869), Chief Justice Salmon P. Chase combined his abolitionist philosophy with an activist jurisprudence to help dismantle once and for all the deposed machineries of slavery and the confederancy.

In late 17th-century New England, the eternal battle between God and Satan was brought into the courtroom. Between January 1692 and May 1693 in Salem, Massachusetts, neighbours turned against neighbours and children against parents with accusations of witchcraft, and 19 people were hanged for having made pacts with the devil. Peter Charles Hoffer, a historian long familiar with the Salem witchcraft trials, now reexamines this notorious episode in American history. He tells the real story of how religious beliefs, superstitions, clan disputes and Anglo-American law and custom created an epidemic of accusations that resulted in the investigation of nearly 200 colonists and, for many, the ordeal of trial and incarceration. He also examines life during this crisis period of New England history - a time beset by Indian wars, disease, severe weather, and challenges to Puritan hegemony - to show how an atmosphere of paranoia contributed to this outbreak of persecution. Hoffer examines many aspects of this history, from accusations to grand jury investigations to the conduct of the trials themselves. He shows how rights we take for granted today - such as rules of evidence and a defendant's right to legal counsel - did not exist in colonial times, and he demonstrates how these cases relate to current instances of children accusing adults of abuse. ""The Salem Witchcraft Trials"", a concise history written expressly for students and general readers, sheds important light on the period and shows that our horror of these infamous proceedings must be tempered with sympathy for a people who gave in to panic in the face of a harsh and desolate existence.

The 1965 student rights case ""Tinker v. Des Moines"", raises important issues regarding First Amendment freedoms and is a precedent for both the rights of public school students and legitimate civil disobedience. This account of the case places it in the legal and historical context of the 1960s.

Lochner v. New York (1905), which pitted a conservative activist judiciary against a reform-minded legislature, remains one of the most important and most frequently cited cases in Supreme Court history. In this concise and readable guide, Paul Kens shows us why the case remains such an important marker in the ideological battles between the free market and the regulatory state.The Supreme Court's decision declared unconstitutional a New York State law limiting bakery workers to no more than ten hours per day or sixty hours per week. By evoking its "police power," the state hoped to eliminate the employers' abuse of these workers. But the 5-4 majority opinion, authored by Justice Rufus Peckham and renounced by Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, cited the state's violation of due process and the "right of contract between employers and employees," which the majority believed was protected by the Fourteenth Amendment.Critics jumped on the decision as an example of conservative judicial activism promoting laissez-faire capitalism at the expense of progressive reform. As series editors Peter Hoffer and N.E.H. Hull note in their preface, "the case also raised a host of significant questions regarding the impetus of state legislatures to enter the workplace and regulate hours, wages, and working conditions; of the role of courts as monitors of the constitutionality of state regulation of the economy; and of the place of economic and moral theories in judicial thinking."Kens, however, reminds us that these hotly contested ideas and principles emerged from a very real human drama involving workers, owners, legislators, lawyers, and judges. Within the crucible of an industrializing America, their story reflected the fierce competition between two powerful ideologies.

In the Chicago suburb of Skokie, one out of every six Jewish citizens in the late 1970s was a survivor--or was directly related to a survivor--of the Holocaust. These victims of terror had resettled in America expecting to lead peaceful lives free from persecution. But their safe haven was shattered when a neo-Nazi group announced its intention to parade there in 1977. Philippa Strum's dramatic retelling of the events in Skokie (and in the courts) shows why the case ignited such enormous controversy and challenged our understanding of and commitment to First Amendment values.The debate was clear-cut: American Nazis claimed the right of free speech while their Jewish "targets" claimed the right to live without intimidation. The town, arguing that the march would assault the sensibilities of its citizens and spark violence, managed to win a court injunction against the marchers. In response, the American Civil Liberties Union took the case and successfully defended the Nazis' right to free speech.Skokie had all the elements of a difficult case: a clash of absolutes, prior restraint of speech, and heated public sentiment. In recreating it, Strum presents a detailed account and analysis of the legal proceedings as well as finely delineated portraits of the protagonists: Frank Collin, National Socialist Party of America leader and the son of a Jewish Holocaust survivor; Skokie community leader Sol Goldstein, a Holocaust survivor who planned a counterdemonstration against the Nazis; Skokie mayor Albert Smith, who wanted only to protect his townspeople; and ACLU attorney David Goldberger, caught in the ironic position of being a Jew defending the rights of Nazis against fellow Jews. While the ACLU did win the case, it was a costly victory--30,000 of its members left the organization. And in the end, ironically, the Nazis never did march in Skokie.Forcefully argued, Strum's book shows that freedom of speech must be defended even when the beneficiaries of that defense are far from admirable individuals. It raises both constitutional and moral issues critical to our understanding of free speech and carries important lessons for current controversies over hate speech on college campuses, inviting readers to think more carefully about what the First Amendment really means.This book is part of the Landmark Law Cases and American Society series.

This volume reexamines the events and personalities in the 1894 strike when the American Railway Union took action against the Pullman Palace Car Company. It also looks at related proceedings in the Chicago trial courts, and the decision which set important standards for labour injunctions.

When the American Railway Union went on strike against the Pullman Palace Car Company in 1894, it set into motion a chain of events whose repercussions are still felt today. The strike pitted America's largest industrial union against twenty-four railroads, paralyzed rail traffic in half the country, and in the end was broken up by federal troops and suppressed by the courts, with union leader Eugene Debs incarcerated. But behind the Pullman case lay a conflict of ideologies at a watershed time in our nation's history.David Ray Papke reexamines the events and personalities surrounding the 1894 strike, related proceedings in the Chicago trial courts, and the 1895 Supreme Court decision, In re Debs, which set important standards for labor injunctions. He shows how the Court, by upholding Debs's contempt citation, dealt fatal blows to broad-based unionism in the nation's most important industry and to any hope for a more evenhanded form of judicial involvement in labor disputes-thus setting the stage for labor law in decades to come.The Pullman case was a defining moment in the often violent confrontation between capital and labor. It matched wealthy industrialist George Pullman against Debs and gave a stage to Debs's fledgling attorney Clarence Darrow. Throughout the trial, capital and labor tried to convince the public of the justice of their cause: Debs decrying the company's treatment of workers and Pullman raising fears of radical unionists. Papke provides an analytically concise and highly readable account of these proceedings, offering insight into the strengths and weaknesses of the law at the peak of industrial capitalism, showcasing Debs's passionate commitment to workers' rights, and providing a window on America during a period of rapid industrialization and social transformation.Papke shows that the law was far from neutral in defending corporate interests and suggests what the Pullman case, by raising questions about both the legitimacy of giant corporations and the revolutionary style of industrial unions, can teach us about law and legal institutions in our own time. His book captures the passions of industrial America and tells an important story at the intersection of legal and cultural history.

In two 1997 decisions, the Supreme Court ruled that there is no constitutional right to physician-assisted suicide. Yet for many people the concept strikes to the heart of notions of liberty. This text examines those cases, the law surrounding the claims and the moral debate around the issue.

Twice denied admission to a California medical school, despite better grades and test scores than successful minority applicants, Alan Bakke took his case to court. This is a review of the issues raised by this case that placed affirmative action on trial. It presents both sides of the debate.

When Gregory Lee Johnson burned a flag, he was convicted for flag desecration under Texas law, but the Court of Appeals reversed the conviction. This work examines the case and the attendant controversy over whether protection of the flag conflicts with constitutional guarantees of free speech.

The Supreme Court's controversial decision in Oregon v. Smith sharply departed from previous readings of the First Amendment's religious freedom clause and ignited a firestorm of protest. This analysis of the case shows why it continues to resonate so deeply in the American psyche.

On Easter Sunday in 1873, more than one hundred black men were gunned down in Grant Parish, Louisiana, for daring to assert their right to vote. Several months earlier, in Lexington, Kentucky, another black man was denied the right to vote for simply failing to pay a poll tax. Both events typified the intense opposition to the federal guarantee of black voting rights. Both events led to landmark Supreme Court decisions. And, as Robert Goldman shows, both events have much to tell us about an America that was still deeply divided over the status of blacks during the Reconstruction era. Goldman deftly highlights the cases of United States v. Reese and United States v. Cruikshank within the context of an ongoing power struggle between state and federal authorities and the realities of being black in postwar America. Focusing especially on the so-called Reconstruction Amendments and Enforcement Acts, he argues that the decisions in Reese and Cruikshank signaled an enormous gap between guaranteed and enforced rights. The Court's decisions denied the very existence of any such guarantee and, further, conferred upon the states the right to determine who may vote and under what circumstances. In both decisions, lower court convictions were overturned through suprisingly narrow rulings, despite the larger constitutional issues involved. In Reese the Court justified its decision by voiding only two sections of the Enforcement Acts, while in Cruikshank it merely voided the original indictments as being ""insufficient in law"" by failing to allege that the Grant Parish murders had been explicitly motivated by racial prejudice. Such legalistic reasoning marked the grim beginning of a nearly century-long struggle to reclaim what the Fifteenth Amendment had supposedly guaranteed. As Goldman shows, the Court's decisions undermined the fledgling efforts of the newly formed justice department and made it increasingly difficult to control the racial violence, intimidation, poll taxes, and other less visible means used by white southern Democrats to ""redeem"" their political power. The result was a disenfranchised black society in a hostile and still segregated South. Only with the emergence of a nationwide civil rights movement and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 did things begin to change. Readable and insightful, Goldman's study offers students, scholars, and concerned citizens a strong reminder of what happens when courts refuse to enforce constitutional and legislated law - and what might happen again if we aren't vigilant in protecting the rights of all Americans.

Nally v. Grace Community Church of the Valley was America's first case to allege ""clergy malpractice,"" one that challenged the freedom of religious leaders to counsel their parishioners. The case is as much a story of modern America as it is an account of courtroom proceedings.

The military trial of William Calley for his role in the slaughter of 500 or more Vietnamese civilians at My Lai shocked a nation already sharply divided over a controversial war. This work is a retelling of the My Lai story through the prism of the law. One of the most highly publicized trials of its day, the Calley case emerged at a time when protests against the war were growing larger. Well aware of this, the Nixon administration sought to downplay the My Lai incident, which military officers in Vietnam had tried to cover up in order to protect their own careers and reputations. The investigations of Ron Ridenhour and Seymour Hersh revealed the full extent of the My Lai tragedy, further inflamed the anti-war movement, and brought to trial Lieutenant William Calley. Unfolding the Calley, this work shows how the system of military justice actually works. It shows how a court-martial conducted within the public eye transformed a purely legal proceeding into a political debate about the conduct of the war. The text portrays Calley as both criminal and victim - guilty of the crimes of which he stood accused, but also an unintended scapegoat of the American military machine.

In 1993-2001, three cases in North Carolina went before the Supreme Court to decide how far a state could establish voting districts along racial lines. This text explores how the Court addressed the constitutionality of redistricting within the contexts of civil rights and partisan politics.

Almost 35 years before New York saw the first great battle waged by the new United States of America for its independence, rumours of a slave conspiracy spread in the city, leading to the conviction and execution of over 70 slaves. This text retells the dramatic story of these landmark trials.

In the late 1960s an Amish community considered state education detrimental to its own values. When the state claimed truancy and took Jonas Yoder to court, a legal battle of landmark proportions followed. This volume is a complete and compelling account of the Yoder case.

The Santeria religion of Cuba - the Way of the Saints - mixes West African Yoruba culture with Catholicism. Similar to Haitian voodoo, Santeria has long practiced animal sacrifice in certain rites. But when Cuban immigrants brought those rituals to Florida, local authorities were suddenly confronted with a controversial situation of the regulation of public health and morality against religious freedom. After Ernesto Pichardo established a Santeria church in Hialeah in the 1980s, the city of Hialeah responded by passing ordinances banning ritual animal sacrifice. Although on the surface those ordinances seemed general in intent, they were clearly aimed at Pichardo's church. When Pichardo subsequently sued the city, a federal court ruled in the latter's favor, in effect privileging the regulation of public health and morality over the church's free exercise of its religion. The U.S. Supreme Court heard Pichardo's appeal in 1993 and unanimously decided that the city had overstepped its bounds in targeting this particular religious group; however, the court was sharply divided regarding the basis of its decision. Three concurring opinions registered distinctly different views of the First Amendment, the limits of government regulation, and the religious freedom of minorities. In the end, the nine justices collectively concluded that freedom of religious belief was absolute while the freedom to practice the tenets of any faith were subject to non-discriminatory local regulations. David O'Brien, one of America's foremost scholars of the Court, now illuminates this controversy and its significance for law, government, and religion in America. His lively account takes us behind the scenes at every stage of the litigation to reveal a riveting case with more twists and turns than a classic whodunit. Ranging with equal ease from primitive magic to municipal politics and to the most arcane points of constitutional law, O'Brien weaves a compelling and instructive tale with a fascinatig array of politicians, lawyers, jurists, civil libertarians, and animal rights advocates. Offering sharp insights into the key issues and personalities, he highlights cultural clashes large and small, while maintaining a balance for both the needs of government and the religious rights of individuals.

Few episodes in the modern civil rights movement were more galvanizing or more memorialized than the brutal murders of Michael Schwerner, Andrew Goodman, and James Chaney - idealists eager to protect and promote the rights of black Americans, even in the deep and very dangerous South. In films like Mississippi Burning and popular folk songs, these young men have been venerated as martyrs. Even so, the landmark legal dimensions of their murder case have until now remained largely lost. Howard Ball reminds us just how problematic the prosecution of the murderers - all members of the KKK - actually was. When the State of Mississippi failed to indict them, the U.S. tried to prosecute the case in federal district court. The judge there, however, ruled that the federal government had no jurisdiction and so dismissed the case. When the U.S. appealed, the Supreme Court unanimously overturned the lower court decision, claiming that federal authorities did indeed have the power to police civil rights violations in any state. United States v. Price (1967) thus produced a landmark decision that signaled a seismic shift in American legal history and race relations.

Few episodes in the modern civil rights movement were more galvanizing or more memorialized than the brutal murders of Michael Schwerner, Andrew Goodman, and James Chaney - idealists eager to protect and promote the rights of black Americans, even in the deep and very dangerous South. In films like Mississippi Burning and popular folk songs, these young men have been venerated as martyrs. Even so, the landmark legal dimensions of their murder case have until now remained largely lost. Howard Ball reminds us just how problematic the prosecution of the murderers - all members of the KKK - actually was. When the State of Mississippi failed to indict them, the U.S. tried to prosecute the case in federal district court. The judge there, however, ruled that the federal government had no jurisdiction and so dismissed the case. When the U.S. appealed, the Supreme Court unanimously overturned the lower court decision, claiming that federal authorities did indeed have the power to police civil rights violations in any state. United States v. Price (1967) thus produced a landmark decision that signaled a seismic shift in American legal history and race relations.

Title VII of the 1964 Civil Rights Act may have outlawed sex discrimination, but it did not address the sexual harassment of women in the workplace - behavior that courts did not deem illegal until well into the era of the modern civil rights and women's movements. Mechelle Vinson's lawsuit against her employer, Meritor Savings Bank v. Vinson (1986), changed all of that. Adopting the legal theory pioneered by feminist Catharine MacKinnon that sexual harassment was indeed discriminatory, the Supreme Court's opinion, authored by one of the most conservative justices, brought the problem of sexual harassment into the spotlight and placed power relations between men and women at work squarely on the public agenda. Plaintiff Vinson claimed that she had submitted to the unwanted sexual advances of her supervisor in order to hold onto her job. Although her supervisor denied her charges and the bank he worked for disavowed any knowledge of misbehavior, her suit finally reached the Supreme Court after six years of litigation, where a unanimous Court determined that the creation of a ""hostile work environment"" through sexual harassment was a form of sex discrimination.

Privacy isn't even mentioned in the US Constitution. It took the Supreme Court's ruling in Griswold v. Connecticut (1965) to bestow constitutional protection upon this right. John Johnson's critique of Griswold - which observes its 40th anniversary on June 7, 2005 - reminds us once again of its crucial impact on both American law and society.

Privacy isn't even mentioned in the US Constitution. It took the Supreme Court's ruling in Griswold v. Connecticut (1965) to bestow constitutional protection upon this right. John Johnson's critique of Griswold - which observes its 40th anniversary on June 7, 2005 - reminds us once again of its crucial impact on both American law and society.

Anne Hutchinson was perhaps the most famous Englishwoman in colonial American history, viewed in later centuries as a crusader for religious liberty and a prototypical feminist. Michael Winship, author of the highly acclaimed Making Heretics, provides a startlingly new and fresh account of her oft-told tale, disentangling what really happened from the legends that have misrepresented her for so long.During the 1630s, religious controversies drove a wedge into the puritan communities of Massachusetts. Anne Hutchinson and other members began to speak out against mainstream doctrine, while ministers like John Cotton argued for personal discovery of salvation. The puritan fathers viewed these activities as a direct and dangerous threat to the status quo and engaged in a fierce and finally successful fight against them. Refusing to disavow her beliefs, Hutchinson was put on trial twice—first for slandering the colony's ministers, then for heresy—and banished from the colony.Combing archives for neglected manuscripts and ancient books for obscure references, Winship gives new voice to other characters in the drama whose significance has not previously been understood. Here are Thomas Shepard, a militant heresy hunter who vigorously pursued both Cotton and Hutchinson; Thomas Dudley, the most important leader in Massachusetts after Governor John Winthrop; Henry Vane, a well-connected supporter of radical theology; and John Wheelwright, a bellicose minister who was a lightning rod for the frustrations of other dissidents. Winship also analyzes the political struggle that almost destroyed the colony and places Hutchinson's trials within the context of this turmoil.As Winship shows, although the trials of Anne Hutchinson and her allies were used ostensibly to protect Massachusetts' Christian society, they instead nearly tore it apart. His concise, fast-moving, and up-to-date account brings puritan doctrine back into focus, giving us a much closer and more informed look at a society marked by religious intolerance and immoderation, one that still echoes in our own times. As long as governments take it upon themselves to define orthodoxies of conscience, The Times and Trials of Anne Hutchinson will be required reading for students and concerned citizens alike.

In the annals of Civil War history, one dispute remains unsettled: was the United States waging war against another nation or putting down an internal rebellion? In 1861 three legal battles put this question to the test. As Mark Weitz reveals, these proceedings were instrumental in debating and ultimately shaping the Confederacy's very identity..

In 1942, eight Germans landed on US shores bent on sabotage. Louis Fisher chronicles their capture, trial, and punishment in order to examine the extent to which procedural rights are suspended in time of war. He analyzes the Supreme Court decision Ex parte Quirin (1942), reconstructing the rush to judgment.

The Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution, ratified in 1868, sought to protect the rights of the newly freed slaves; but its first important test did not arise until five years later. That test centered on a vitriolic dispute among the white butchers of mid-Reconstruction New Orleans. The rough-and-tumble world of nineteenth-century New Orleans was a sanitation nightmare, with the city's slaughterhouses dumping animal remains into local backwaters. When Louisiana authorized a monopoly slaughterhouse to bring about sanitation reform, many independent butchers felt disenfranchised. Framing their case as an infringement of rights protected by the new amendment, they flooded the lower courts with nearly 300 suits. The surviving cases that reached the U.S. Supreme Court pitted the butchers' right to labor against the state's ""police power"" to regulate public health. The result was a controversial decision that for the first time addressed the meaning and import of the Fourteenth Amendment. Speaking for the majority in the Court's 5-4 decision, Justice Samuel F. Miller upheld the state's actions as a fair use of its ""police power."" He also argued that the Fourteenth Amendment was intended exclusively as a means of protecting and redressing the suffering of former slaves. The result was a very restricted interpretation of the amendment's ""privileges and immunities,"" ""due process,"" and ""equal protection"" clauses. In striking contrast, the minority, led by Justices Stephen Field and Joseph Bradley, claimed that the Fourteenth Amendment had been intended to apply to all Americans, not just former slaves, and therefore protected the butchers' right to labor in their chosen profession. Engagingly written and concisely crafted for students and general readers, this newly abridged edition provides a very accessible guide to one of the Supreme Court's most famous cases.

Although she came to be known as merely ""that girl with the dirty books,"" Dollree Mapp was a poor but proud black woman who defied a predominantly white police force by challenging the legality of its search-and-seizure methods. Her case, which went all the way to the Supreme Court, remains hotly debated and highly controversial today. In 1957, Cleveland police raided Mapp's home on a tip - from future fight promoter Don ""the Kid"" King - that they'd find evidence linked to a recent bombing. What they confiscated instead was sexually explicit material that led to Mapp's conviction for possessing ""lewd and lascivious books"" - a conviction that initially pitted Ohio police and judges against Mapp and the American Civil Liberties Union. At stake was not only the search-and-seizure question but also the ""exclusionary rule"" concerning the use of evidence not specified in a search warrant. Carolyn Long follows the police raid into Mapp's home and then chronicles the events that led to the Court's 5-4 ruling in Mapp v. Ohio (1961), which redefined the rights of the accused and set strict limits on how police could obtain and use evidence. Long traces the case through the legal labyrinth, discusses the controversies it created, and assesses its impact on police behavior, as well as subsequent prosecutions and convictions of the accused. She also analyzes Justice Tom Clark's creative use of Mapp's case to overturn Wolf v. Colorado, which had ruled that the Fourth Amendment's protection against unreasonable searches applied only to federal law, and presents Justice John Harlan's strong federalist-based dissent. As entertaining as it is informative, Long's book features a host of intriguing characters: Mapp, her seasoned and determined attorney, A. L. Kearns, and police sergeant Carl Delau, among others. Combined with her concise and insightful explanations of key legal principles - including the exclusionary rule itself - Long's deft narrative provides an ideal format for teachers and students in criminology, legal history, constitutional law, and political science, as well as anyone who loves a good story. The Mapp case is still much debated, especially in light of the recent reauthorization of the U.S. Patriot Act and the free rein given to law enforcement officers in matters of search and seizure. Long's compelling study thus poses important questions regarding privacy and individual rights that still matter today, even as it also illuminates one of the keystones of the Warren Court's criminal procedure revolution.

Federalism - including its meanings and limits - remains one of the most contested principles in constitutional law. To fully understand its importance, we must turn to a landmark decision nearly two centuries old. M'Culloch v. Maryland (1819) is widely regarded as the Supreme Court's most important and influential decision - one that essentially defined the nature and scope of federal authority and its relationship to the states. Mark Killenbeck's sharply insightful study helps us understand why. Killenbeck recounts how the cashier of the Baltimore branch of the Second Bank of the United States refused to pay Maryland's tax on the bank and how that act precipitated a showdown in the Supreme Court, which addressed two questions: whether the U.S. Congress had the authority to establish a national bank and whether Maryland's tax on the bank was barred by the Constitution. In one of Chief Justice, John Marshall's most famous opinions, the Court unanimously answered yes to both, authorizing the federal government to exercise powers not expressly articulated in the Constitution - and setting an alarming precedent for states-rights advocates. The issues at the heart of M'Culloch are as important today as they were then: the nature and scope of federal constitutional authority, the division of authority between federal and state governments, and the role of the Supreme Court in interpreting and applying the Constitution. Situating the case within the protracted debate about the bank and about federal-state relations, the Panic of 1819, the fate of the Second Bank following the Court's momentous decision, and the ever-expanding and increasingly contentious debate over slavery, Killenbeck's book provides a virtual constitutional history of the first fifty years of the nation. As such, it shows that the development of the Constitution as a viable governing document took place over time and that M'Culloch, with its very broad reading of federal power, marked a turning point for the Constitution, the Court, and the nation. As the Court continues to reshape the boundaries of federal power, M'Culloch looms large as a precedent in a debate that has never been fully settled. And as states today grapple with such questions as abortion, gay rights, medical marijuana, or assisted suicide, this book puts that precedent in perspective and offers a firm grasp of its implications for the future.