Devil in the Grove

“You know, sometimes I get awfully tired of trying to save the white man’s soul.” 

A well-known quote from Marshall, this illustrates the “battle fatigue” he experienced as the Groveland case dragged on into the 1950s. Fatigue, emotional lows, and health problems mark Marshall’s career at various times in this account; they form the other side to the coin of his joviality and perseverance.

“They came in their jalopy cars and their overalls. [...] All they wanted to do—if they could—was just touch him, just touch him, Lawyer Marshall, as if he were a god.” 

Perhaps no quote better sums up the reverence in which Marshall is held by many in the black community, who look upon him as a savior figure because of his civil rights battles. Wherever he goes Marshall is welcomed with hospitality and gratitude, with women delivering him lunch at court and men fixing broken-down cars to drive him here and there (5).

“But the overall-clad spectators were equally intrigued by Marshall and his fellow NAACP lawyers: by the strange sight of ‘those niggers up there wearing coats and talking back to the judge just like they were white men.’” 

While the previous quote gave us the black attitude toward Marshall, this one conveys the attitude of many white southerners, unaccustomed to seeing a black person in anything but a servile role. Yet “intrigued” conveys that their attitude is not necessarily entirely hostile.

“Lose your head, lose your case.” 

Memorable advice from Marshall’s legal mentor Charles Hamilton Houston, this expresses the importance of keeping a cool demeanor while arguing a case—advice Marshall will demonstrate throughout the book, not least in the Florida retrial during his closing argument. Here he evokes lofty philosophical principles as he reminds the jurors of the impartial nature of their duty and of American justice. This contrasts with the melodramatic and demagogic spectacle put on by Jesse Hunter in his closing speech. King tells us that Marshall speaks “patiently, politely, softly, but fluently and with dignity” and with “reasonableness” (319), not appearing at all nervous or excited—a courtroom manner he has honed with all-white juries in the South over the years.

“We fought for freedom overseas, and we’ll fight for it here.” 

This quote highlights a dilemma for many black Americans during the World War II era—that, having fought for freedom and justice abroad, they found themselves denied of those rights at home. Therefore, for them the fight for equal rights in the South was of a piece with their actions in the war.

“The President only said ‘nigger’ once, but once was enough for me.” 

The president in question is Franklin D. Roosevelt, whom Marshall overhears using the word “nigger” to his wife, Eleanor, on the phone in the context of Eleanor’s efforts on behalf of black civil rights.

“Her reputation around town was ‘not good,’ according to one white woman who knew her, and ‘a bad egg’ is how another local described her.”

This quote establishes the questionable character of Norma Padgett, contrasting with law enforcement’s attempt to use her as a generic symbol of “chaste southern womanhood.” In Devil in the Grove things are often not what they seem, and Marshall and his team find themselves looking beyond the surface to reveal the inner truth of things. 

“Although they were unable to win an acquittal for Crawford, they did together prevent a death sentence. That in itself was worth celebrating, for both men knew that when blacks were charged with killing whites in the South, a life sentence was a victory. ‘You’ve won,’ Marshall later said, ‘because normally they were hanging them.’” 

While a senior law student at Howard University, Marshall assists his mentor Charles Hamilton Houston in defending George Crawford, a black Virginia man accused of murdering two white women. The principle they discover will remain true 20 years later when defending Charles Greenlee, who similarly receives life imprisonment instead of the death penalty. It is a hopeful encouragement to continue fighting the case until they can win acquittal. But it is also a sad reminder of the varying standards of life and justice for white and black people in the South.

“I’m Willis McCall and you’re a damn liar!” 

Sheriff McCall’s belligerent nature is apparent throughout the book. He is continually obsessed by his public image, clipping newspaper articles about him and responding to every personal attack. In this case, McCall is reacting to a piece by Mabel Norris Reese accusing him of political dishonesty in destroying a bolita parlor that had supposedly backed his campaign. The quote also suggests McCall’s explosive and violent character.

“Equality, freedom and tolerance are essential in a democratic government. The NAACP has done so much to preserve these principles and to perpetuate the desires of our founding fathers.” 

Marshall and FBI head J. Edgar Hoover often perform a delicate dance to maintain a positive relationship between their respective organizations. When Marshall seeks to boost the NAACP’s anticommunist credentials with a position pamphlet, Hoover gladly writes a preface in which this laudatory quote appears. It illustrates the cooperative relationship to which the NAACP and the FBI aspired. It also shows the extent to which the FBI regarded the NAACP’s ideals as congruent with fundamental American ideals.

“My dad told me way back [...] that you can’t use race. For example, there’s no difference between a white snake and a black snake. They’ll both bite.” 

King cites Marshall’s quote when discussing his investigations into complaints lodged by black GI’s in the Korean War. Marshall determined that in one particular case the soldier was simply “playing the race card” to cover up his misdeeds. This is emblematic of Marshall’s approach, exercising caution in choosing which cases to represent and looking at the person beyond the color (209).

“The case presents one of the best examples of one of the worst menaces to American justice. It is on that ground that I would reverse.”

This quote comes from Supreme Court Justice Robert Jackson’s concurring opinion reversing the Groveland case conviction. Jackson powerfully equates the inequities shown the defendants with anti-Americanism, claiming that they “do not meet any civilized conception of the due process of law” (220). The quote implicitly aligns the Supreme Court against Truman Futch, Jesse Hunter, and Willis McCall

“They can keep me from the courts of Florida, but there is no man alive or to be born who can prevent me from arguing the Groveland case before the U.S. Supreme Court!” 

Marshall delivers these words at a rally for Groveland at Mount Zion Baptist Church in Miami. They underline his determination in pursuing the case as well his regard for the Supreme Court as an ideal, level playing field toward which to aspire.

“I want you to know that I am one of an increasing number of southern white men who have the highest respect for your professional ability and your integrity of character.” 

A white Florida minister named Caxton Doggett writes these words to Marshall in a letter after the Miami rally. They are a testament to Marshall’s growing influence among whites in the South. Caxton also praises Marshall’s oratorical skills and announces his intention to join the NAACP.

“In common cause they found community and communion: this was why Moore had dedicated two decades of his life to the NAACP.” 

King presents this as Moore’s reaction to Marshall’s stirring speech in Miami, a performance with the power to bring together two such different people as Marshall and the Reverend Doggett. Moore’s commitment to the NAACP is constant and unwavering and it, along with his family, is the center of his life.

“[E]very defendant is assured and guaranteed a fair and impartial trial, and is assured and guaranteed equal justice under the law, equally [...] no matter whether or not he is white, black or yellow, and our government is the finest Government in the world [...] and our great United States government is built on that principle [...] and that is the reason that our government has survived through the ages.” 

These words form part of Marshall’s concluding argument in the Groveland retrial, invoking the traditions of American justice to convince the all-white jury to vote according to their highest principles. It perfectly illustrates the “reasonableness” for which he is known. 

“With Marshall, you really got the impression that what he was saying had to be right [...] that no honest person could really avoid the thrust of what he was arguing. That he really, really believed in this cause. And that made him very effective.” 

These are the words of an unidentified fellow lawyer of Marshall’s describing his approach in the courtroom. Marshall’s reasonableness is one of the most convincing aspects of his performance in court and goes far toward persuading others of the rightness of his cause. Filing out to the jury room, one white juror is heard to say, “Damn, that nigger was good. Sure looks like it’ll be close” (320).

“The only chance these Negroes had of acquittal would have been in the courage and decency of some sturdy and forthright white person of sufficient standing to face and live down the odium among his white neighbors that such a vote, if required, would have brought.”

In his concurring opinion, Justice Jackson speaks of what the white population owes morally to the defendants. In the South, the stigma of being called a “nigger lover” is strong and will prove to be a test  for those, like Lawrence Burtoft, who will be called upon to testify in the Groveland case. Will they have the courage to face down the pressure of their peers and stand up for what is right?

“Could this be another of the ‘rape’ cases which Southern authorities have been known to whomp up as an afterthought in order to keep the Negro in his ‘place’?” 

Richard Carter, a reporter for the New York Compass, cuts to the heart of the matter in suggesting that the alleged rape was trumped up. Carter had earlier researched the Groveland case and uncovered Ernest Thomas’s connection with bolita, suggesting that it was the real reason for his death.

“You could just see the respect all over [Hunter’s] face for that man. It was such a shame they could never have lunch together, but at the time no restaurant in Florida would have permitted it.” 

Mabel Norris Reese writes this in her newspaper column upon observing the growing admiration of Jesse Hunter for Marshall during the retrial. Both Hunter and Reese experience a notable change of sentiment with regard to the trial, Marshall, and race in general. Reese’s statement is a poignant reflection of the Jim Crow conventions that kept blacks and whites separate, to their own mutual loss—even to the extent of not being able to share a meal together at a restaurant.

“I’m not sorry, not even now. Naturally, I would rather have a life sentence than the electric chair, but I thought it wouldn’t be right for me to plead guilty when I’m not guilty.” 

Walter Irvin’s refusal to plead guilty in order to save his life reflects his unclouded commitment to the truth and might be seen as virtual  proof of his innocence.

“I’m going to be a good butler.” “I hope I might be able to get in the post office.” 

These are statements obtained during Marshall’s conversations with black children, when he would ask them what they wanted to be when they grew up (337). Marshall believes that these responses illustrate what psychologist Kenneth Clark found in researching the effects of segregation on the mental attitudes of black children, research that Marshall uses to bolster his argument in Brown v. Board of Education. The Brown decision would have repercussions on the Groveland case, and the quote illustrates more generally the low social status in which most southern blacks are trapped.

“My conscience told me it was a bad case, badly handled, badly tried and now, on this bad performance, I was asked to take a man’s life. My conscience would not let me do it.” 

With these words the new governor of Florida, LeRoy Collins, officially commutes Walter Irvin’s sentence in September 1955. Collins’s decision, partly influenced by a letter he received from Jesse Hunter, reflects his commitment to bringing a more moral and conscientious leadership to Florida as part of the reformist New South movement.