From the outset, Judge Raulston adopted the practice—already used by some in town—of referring to Darrow as “colonel.” Malone also became “colonel” or the lesser rank of “captain.” Darrow submitted to the practice with good humor. Many of the other attorneys also bore titles, but none without an obvious reason. Everyone referred to Neal as “judge,” which reflected a previous position; Stewart and Ben McKenzie were usually “general” (as in attorney general); and even Bryan, on occasion, was “colonel,” his rank during the Spanish-American War. Yet some wondered whether the judge extended this designation to Darrow and Malone as a way to avoid calling them “mister,” a title of respect in the South. He certainly had no problem referring to all the other attorneys, including Hays, as “mister.”
The spectators broke into applause just before 9:00, when Bryan entered with Stewart and the other prosecutors. Raulston strode over to welcome the Commoner. The applause broke out anew when Bryan and Darrow shook hands. Despite their differences over religion, the two men had worked together for a variety of political causes and remained on cordial terms. In a letter to Sue Hicks shortly before trial, Bryan described Darrow as “an able man, and, I think, an honest man.”
9
Darrow, for his part, always maintained that Bryan was sincere. The two talked amiably with their hands clasped on each other’s shoulders and posed for pictures with the judge. The conversation became more formal when Malone approached Bryan, perhaps due to bitterness from their days together at the State Department. Darrow wandered off to compare suspenders with Ben McKenzie.
Bryan already showed signs of strain from the heat. “His shirt sleeves were rolled up as high as they would go, and his soft collar and shirt front were turned back away from his neck,” Darrow recalled, though closer inspection showed that Bryan had removed his collar altogether. “In his hand was the largest palmleaf fan that could be found, apparently, with which he fought off the heat waves—and flies.”
10
Mary Baird Bryan watched from a wheelchair behind her husband. She suffered through the entire trial in quiet dignity and obvious physical pain from her crippling arthritis. Privately she objected to her husband’s crusade against teaching evolution and his participation in the Scopes trial, but she stood by him throughout. Raulston took his seat behind the bench and called for order. The trial was about to begin.
First, the court opened with a long prayer (Scopes called it “interminable”) by a local fundamentalist minister. “Not just an ordinary prayer,” Hays noted, “but an argumentative one, directed straight at the defense.” Acknowledging a divine “source of our wisdom,” the preacher prayed that “the Holy Spirit may be with the jury and with the accused and with all the attorneys” so that they would “be loyal to God.” Many spectators punctuated these words with audible amens. Prosecutors bowed their heads throughout; reporters looked toward the defense table; the defense lawyers stared out the window. The judge then reconvened the same grand jury that had indicted Scopes six weeks earlier; that jury had met in May without sufficient notice, therefore a new indictment was needed. The judge repeated his original charge to these jurors, complete with the Genesis account of creation, and Stewart recalled the earlier witnesses. “One of the [student witnesses] did not want to go on the stand,” Scopes later wrote. “To prevent his loyalty [to me] from delaying the trial I went to see the youngster and told him to go ahead ... because he would be doing me a favor.” These proceedings consumed most of the morning, whereupon counsel asked to call it a day so that defense lawyers could recuperate from their travels and become acclimated to the heat. “Well, it wouldn’t require any great amount of energy to select a jury, would it?” the judge responded. He then directed the sheriff to summon one hundred potential jurors to appear after lunch. Under local practice, all veniremen would be white males.
11
The principal figures in the Scopes trial greeting each other in the crowded courtroom at the start of the trial. In front from left are Dudley Field Malone, Tom Stewart, William Jennings Bryan, Judge John Raulston, and Clarence Darrow. (Courtesy of Bryan College Archives)
Shortly before noon, a thousand people poured out of the ovenlike courtroom into the festive atmosphere of downtown Dayton. Four steers roasted over a huge barbecue pit behind the courthouse. Hot dog and soft drink stands lined the main street, intermixed with bookstalls and carnival games. “A blind man with a portable organ sat at the iron fence at Market Street, only half shaded from the broiling sun, playing mountain hymns,” a reporter observed, “another blind man played on a guitar and mouth organ.” An African-American string quartet entertained in the street. “Negroes mingled freely with white persons on the lawn of the court house,” a surprised Yankee noted. The biggest thrill occurred later in the day, when two airplanes buzzed the crowd after taking off from near town. They carried newsreel footage of the trial that would begin showing in northern cinemas at the next afternoon’s matinee.
Jury selection started immediately after lunch. Darrow typically stressed this part of a trial as critical for the defense and often spent weeks going through hundreds of veniremen before settling on twelve suitable jurors. Tennessee trial practice allowed only three peremptory challenges without cause for each side, and there was little point in probing into the backgrounds and beliefs of veniremen to establish cause for their exclusion owing to a fundamentalist predisposition—which in itself would never constitute just cause for a local judge to exclude anyone from anything. When Darrow tried this tact by challenging a particularly militant fundamentalist for cause, Stewart objected: “If a man is subject to challenge by the defendant because he believes the Bible conflicts with the theory of evolution... then, for the converse reason the state would have grounds to challenge for cause and the result would be everybody on earth who could be brought here, would be challenged.” Betraying his frustration with the jury pool, Darrow shot back, “If you can find any man on the jury that believes in evolution, you have my permission to challenge him.”
12
Despite Stewart’s objection, this particular venireman had gone too far in admitting his bias. Raulston excused him for cause.
Darrow settled for jurors who claimed to have an open mind. To facilitate this, he asked that names from the jury pool be drawn from a hat rather than selected by the sheriff. The judge offered this option to accommodate Darrow’s concern about fairness, inviting his daughter to draw the first name. The prosecution readily accepted nearly everyone after a few pro forma questions. For the defense, Darrow engaged each potential juror in a casual interrogation that inevitably covered three key issues and generally elicited similar responses. “Mr. Smith, do you know anything about evolution?” Darrow began one typical exchange. “I do not, no sir,” came the inevitable reply. Further questioning led up to, “Did you ever have any opinion... on whether the Bible was against evolution or not?” No, again. Finally, Darrow inquired to the effect, would you make up your own mind on these matters based on the evidence presented in court? When the answer came back, “Yes, sir,” Darrow concluded, “I think you would, too. You are a juror.”
13
Nearly every venireman wanted to join the jury, if for no other reason than that it appeared to offer a front-row seat for the proceedings. Clearly, many of them said whatever they thought would help to get them accepted. This typically included denying that they held any opinion regarding the theory of evolution and its relationship to Christianity. Some were transparently honest in their professed ignorance on these points. When asked if he had ever read about the subject, for example, one venireman replied, “I can’t read.” Darrow followed up, “Is that due to your eyes?” No, the man answered, “I am uneducated.” Hays later commented, “It was said with such plain, simple dignity that we felt we had at least one honest man.” The illiterate venireman joined the jury. “Evolution is a new idea to the average Tennessee juryman,” Watson Davis concluded. This gave the defense grounds for arguing that the jurors needed to hear expert testimony about evolution to decide the case.
14
When pushed, however, these veniremen betrayed a marked fundamentalist tilt. None said anything negative about the Bible or positive about evolution, and all but one of them were church members. Most were middle-aged farmers from rural Rhea County with little formal education. The judge excluded a few for cause after Darrow probed deeper into their beliefs. For example, a rural minister who professed to know nothing about evolution aroused Darrow’s suspicions. In response to rapid-fire grilling, the minister first denied ever preaching about evolution, then admitted doing so “in connection with other subjects,” and finally exclaimed, “Well, I preached against it, of course!”
15
Local spectators broke into loud cheers, but the minister lost his chance to sit in judgment of Scopes.
Usually Darrow took prospective jurors at their word and accepted the inevitable. “It was obvious after a few rounds that the jury would be unanimously hot for Genesis. The most that Mr. Darrow could hope for was to sneak in a few men bold enough to declare publicly that they would have to hear the evidence against Scopes before condemning him,” H. L. Mencken reported from the scene. “Such a jury, in a legal sense, may be fair,” he added, “but it would certainly be spitting in the eye of reason to call it impartial.”
16
The entire process took only two hours and twenty veniremen. Darrow told reporters afterward, “It is as we expected.” Bryan commented for the prosecution, “We are satisfied.”
17
Many northern editorialists scorned the prospect of these jurors sitting in judgment on a scientific theory, but one put it in a larger perspective. “Last week the white press made much ado about the jury that now sits hearing evidence in the Scopes’ trial,” a Pittsburgh African-American newspaper editor noted. “But right here we rise to remind the complainants that this is no unusual spectacle. The Scopes’ jury is typical—typical of the judgment bar before which black men and women in the bourbon South must stand when charged with crime against members of the opposite group.”
18
Scopes now stood charged with such a crime, and Bryan’s majority sat in judgment.
Jury selection concluded quicker than anyone expected, and the court prepared to adjourn early for the defense. Counsel raised one more issue: “That is the matter with reference to the competence of evidence that will be introduced by the bringing here of these scientists,” Stewart spit out.
19
Darrow had raised the issue several times during the day. Indeed, in his first words to the court that morning, Darrow said, “Your honor, before [jury selection] I want to have a little talk ... on the question of witnesses here, before we do anything else.” Raulston put him off. The competency of defense witnesses usually would not come up until the prosecution concluded its case, and the defense offered those witnesses, but Darrow pushed for an early ruling. “Your honor, all I am doing at this time is because our witnesses are generally from a long distance,” he stated. “If there is to be any question of competency of evidence, that could be disposed of some time before we get them here.” The prosecution left no doubt about its position. “We have had a conference or two about that matter,” Stewart replied. “It isn’t competent to bring into this case scientists who testify as to what the theory of evolution is or interpret the Bible or anything of that sort.”
20
Yet things of that sort constituted the
entire
defense.
“Education is the real job of the defense,” Watson Davis reported from Dayton that first day. He assumed responsibility for assembling defense witnesses, assuring readers that the “supply of competent and learned professors will be ample. Dayton may be the scene of upward steps in the evolution of the human thinking mind. Perhaps that is not too much to hope for.”
21
Of course, it was too much to count on. Governor Peay and other prominent Tennesseans already had warned the court against admitting expert testimony and prosecutors vowed to oppose it as irrelevant. Stewart suggested that the prosecution would agree to take up the competency issue next. Judge Raulston offered to hear the matter on Saturday, so that the defense would “have the advantage over Sunday to arrange for witnesses or not,” but Scopes’s travel-weary defenders asked to wait until Monday.
22
The prosecution did not object and court adjourned for the weekend. Bryan had not spoken in court on this, the twenty-ninth anniversary of his famous “Cross of Gold” speech; he left legal matters to the other prosecutors, and did not intend to address the court until closing arguments—when he planned to expose the menace of Darwinism to the country in a carefully crafted oration.