aloud.
Court resumed. Turner’s lawyer restated his case,
pointedly referring to the eyewitness testimony. He implied that the
malfunction of the automaton, which necessitated the considerable expense of
repairs, was due to damage inflicted on it by the defendant. Wales, in his
turn, argued that Cochoran and his assistants had entered the property of
Thomas Covington uninvited. Without a proper warrant and proof of ownership of
the mechanical device, Thomas had been under no obligation to deliver the
automaton. If the automaton had refused to comply with its instructions, then
perhaps those instructions were improperly issued. Given the necessity for
subsequent repairs, the automaton was certainly defective. In neither case
could responsibility be assigned to his client.
As persuasive as these arguments were, Thomas grew
increasingly uneasy. The question was not whether Cochoran or Turner or anyone
else had the proper authority to claim a piece of stolen equipment, but whether
Adam or any human soul should be enslaved.
Thomas caught the eye of his attorney and beckoned him over.
“John, thee must allow me to speak. Put me on the stand!”
“Are you mad? You’ll be under oath and the plaintiff will
question you on cross-examination! You’d be slitting your own throat!” Wales
hesitated, perhaps remembering that Thomas would not swear an oath that implied
he was at other times untruthful. “I’m sorry, but it’s too late. Unless you
have some new piece of evidence you haven’t told me about.”
“Not evidence, no—”
“Counsel for the defense, do you require a recess?” Justice
Hall inquired. Taney was scowling in disapproval.
“Thomas, there’s a time and a place for everything. Now let
me do my job.” Wales straightened up. “I’ll resume my statement straightaway,
your Honor.”
Thomas sat helplessly as Wales concluded his speech. He did
not expect the jury to confer for long, and they did not. As the courtroom
settled to hear the verdict, Thomas felt a sense of dread. He listened as Hall
reviewed the salient points in the case, searching for any hint as to how the
judges saw Adam’s status—machine or man, slave or free? But Hall kept only to
the testimony presented, and Taney’s expression was unreadable.
In the end, did it matter in whose favor these men decided?
Would Adam be less dead in either case?
After Hall concluded, Taney glanced down at his notes and
began. “This court was unable, given the facts presented, to determine if the
entity referred to as the automaton is entirely a mechanical device or whether
it, by the moiety which might be considered a human soul, has a valid claim to
consideration as a person. Furthermore, we have been unable to determine
whether that person, if any such exists, is to be considered a slave or a free
citizen. Therefore, we have attempted to ascertain whether, at the time the
Constitution was ratified, federal law would have recognized this entity as a
citizen, and we have determined that it would not. A device created for the
sole purpose of servitude, regardless of any hypothetical human component, must
therefore be regarded under law as property.”
The jury found in favor of the plaintiff, the fine being
calculated at the cost of the automaton, its repairs, and the loss of its use.
Some of the onlookers gasped at the amount, far more than the value of a slave.
After the court adjourned, Turner went up to the jury and
attempted to shake their hands; some accepted, but others turned away, clearly
uncomfortable.
Only a few of the onlookers left the courtroom, and most of
those had been standing at the back. Thomas got to his feet and the murmurs
died. Turner, in the midst of thanking one of the jurors, stepped back.
Thomas faced the bench. “Judge, I have not always acted
according to my conscience, at times out of fear of losing what little I
possess. Now that burden has been removed from me, so I say to thee, to Durham
Turner, and to all in