American History Tellers - Supreme Court Landmarks | Separate and Unequal | 3

Episode Date: November 4, 2020

After the Civil War, America began to rebuild a shattered nation. For the first time, the country could create a society without slavery, and a nation where Black people could forge their own path as independent citizens.But by the 1890s, the laws and policies that promised new rights for Black citizens in the South were under assault. In Louisiana, white politicians attempted to turn back the clock on racial progress by passing the Separate Cars Act and reinstating segregation. The move prompted a Black New Orleans activist group called the Comité des Citoyens to rise up and challenge the law. Members Louis Martinet and Albion Tourgee aimed to build a test case – a case that would force the Supreme Court to strike down segregation laws, and disprove the idea that “separate” could ever be “equal.” The high-stakes case would define race relations for decades to come. And it would begin with a brief train car ride in New Orleans, by a 29-year-old shoemaker named Homer Plessy.Listen ad free with Wondery+. Join Wondery+ for exclusives, binges, early access, and ad free listening. Available in the Wondery App. https://wondery.app.link/historytellersSupport us by supporting our sponsors!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Imagine it's September 1st, 1891 in New Orleans. You're just stepping off a busy train car, and it's good to be back in the city. The sun is setting, and there's a hint of jasmine floating on the breeze. You're making your way through an open-air depot when you run into your friend Louie. Louie! Hey, Louie! Hey, how are you? He's impossible to miss.

The man is always dressed to the nines in the same black suit, black bow tie, and wide-brim hat. Well, I've been better and I've been worse. Are those flowers in your hand for me? Oh, you didn't have to. Louie's ever the joker. The flowers are for your mother. She doesn't get out much anymore. You've been running errands for her today. Oh, it's funny to see you here. I thought you'd be busy with the paper, Louis.

Louis is the editor of The Crusader, a paper you like to read when you get the time. You and Louis are both Creole, of mixed black and European descent, and both light-skinned. You also share an abiding hatred of the rampant racial discrimination in this country. Well, in a way, I am. Today, I'm watching the trains. What's that? Let me ask you a question. Which car did you take just now? The white one? Louis, you know I didn't take the white one. You watched me get off. Well, that's fair enough. But with your complexion, you could have taken the white one. And probably no one would have known. Why didn't you? Well, maybe I could have, but it's not a chance I want to take. Ever since they passed that separate car law, I mean, I'm just not as daring as you.

Listen, why don't you come by my office on Friday? We're having a special meeting. I think the subject matter might interest you. Don't be coy with me. What is it? Well, we're forming a citizens committee to overturn the Separate Car Act. These kind of laws are senseless. It's not 1858. We've come too far since the war. Well, you know I agree. Good. Because we're going to overturn this law.

We'll build a test case against it. Take it all the way to the Supreme Court. I'm wondering if you want to help. Louie, I'd be happy to, but my mother isn't well these days. Perhaps I can let you know? Certainly, and give my best to your mother. I hope she has a speedy recovery. But don't wait too long. We need you. Frankly, we need all the help we can get.

The train's leaving the station, and you need to be on your way too. But the idea has gotten you excited. A citizens' committee. Roll the phrase around in your mind. As long as your mother's okay, you're going to go on Friday and see what this group is all about. It's a tall task to get rid of these racist laws, but any group daring enough to try is one you're interested in joining. From the team behind American History Tellers comes a new book, The Hidden History of the White House. Each chapter will bring you inside the fierce power struggles, intimate moments, and shocking scandals that shaped our nation. From the War of 1812 to Watergate. Available now wherever you get your books. Kill List is a true story of how

I ended up in a race against time to warn those whose lives were in danger. Follow Kill List wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Kill List and more Exhibit C True Crime shows like Morbid early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus.

From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History Tellers. Our history, your story. By the 1890s, American society was defined in black and white, and American laws enforced these boundaries. The term Jim Crow was shorthand for the pervasive laws that enforced racial segregation. The term came from a minstrel routine and was also a derogatory epithet for Black Americans, a designation of their separate status. White politicians and militant groups pushed for Jim Crow laws after the U.S. passed the 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments, the ones officially ending slavery, guaranteeing equal protection, and ensuring the right to vote for black men.

These segregation laws attempted to reassert white supremacy and restrict black people into inferior schools, parks, restaurants, and public transportation. But for the citizens of New Orleans, many of whom were Creole or mixed race, the question of whether a person was black or white was complex. They hailed from a rich and diverse culture that defied simple categorizations. The Supreme Court hadn't ruled explicitly on race since before the Civil War, but a black activist group in Louisiana would try and change that. They would do it by forming a test case, a case that would force the Supreme Court to strike down segregation laws throughout the country. And they were going to do it with a 29-year-old shoemaker's ride on a train car.

This is Episode 3, Separate and Unequal. In the summer of 1890, the Louisiana State Legislature passed a law called the Separate Cars Act, requiring that railroads maintain different cars for black and white passengers. The legislation called for accommodations to be equal but separate. The punishment for violating this fine was $25 or 20 days in jail. Louis Martinet was angered by the passing of the Separate Cars Act, but he was not surprised. Just one year before, Martinet, a former attorney, had started a newspaper as an alternative to the racist language that appeared in the city's dailies. It was called the Crusader. Published weekly, Martinette's paper billed itself as newsy, spicy, progressive, stalwart,

and fearless. And it often lived up to the promise. Martinette was 41 years old, old enough to remember the institution of slavery. Born in 1849 to a Belgian father and a free black mother, he had grown up in a prominent Creole family in a rural parish west of Baton Rouge. He was a teenager when the Civil War ended and the 13th and 14th Amendments ended slavery and promised equal rights to black citizens. Because of those amendments, Louis Martinet had been able to attend law school with other black students.

He was admitted to the Louisiana State Bar. He could vote and seek elected office. Martinet had even served one term in the Louisiana State Legislature. But following passage of these amendments, Southern whites launched a campaign to reinforce a strict racial hierarchy. They stripped black citizens of their rights and restricted their access to the polls. Then in 1877, President Rutherford B. Hayes withdrew federal troops from Louisiana, the last Southern state to have government forces, officially ending Reconstruction. Without a strong federal presence, local politicians and violent militia groups like the White League in New Orleans quickly eroded whatever gains former slaves had secured and spread violence on the streets. But despite intimidation, Black people voted and were politically active. By 1890, Black men worked in the police department.

The Louisiana legislature that passed the Separate Cars Act had 16 Black members, and now those same legislators were prevented from traveling in a train car with their white colleagues. Lawmakers said that they had introduced the law to promote the comfort of passengers in railway trains. But the racial animus behind it was clear. Next door in Mississippi, lawmakers had just drafted a new state constitution that imposed poll taxes and literacy tests, vastly reducing the number of black voters and even some whites. By Louis Martinet's reckoning, Louisiana's Separate Cars Act had a similar aim. What's more, it was unconstitutional because of the 14th Amendment's Equal Protection Clause. He thought the time was right for it to be challenged and that people of color

had the political will to overturn it. In the pages of his newspaper, Martinet laid out his plan for all to see, writing, We'll make a case, a test case, and bring it before the federal court on the grounds of the invasion of the right of a person to travel through the states unmolested. And so with his plan set, all he had to do was find the right test case.

The offices of the Crusaders soon became home to a small group of activists who sought to challenge the constitutionality of the Separate Car Act. Calling themselves the Comité de Citoyens, or Citizens Committee, the group's members included educators, businessmen, lawyers, and government workers. By 1891, the Citizens Committee was holding rallies and fundraisers. Meanwhile, Martinet began secret negotiations with the Louisville and Nashville Railroad Company, which agreed to offer assistance to the group. From the railroad company's standpoint, the Separate Cars Act was terrible for business. They had to pay for extra cars that might only be half-used.

Additionally, their employees were saddled with the burden of becoming the state's racial police. Ultimately, it would have been cheaper for the company if the state had mandated integration instead. The Louisville and Nashville Railroad would be a silent partner in the script of civil disobedience that Martinet was writing. And it was their train cars that would be the stage. Next, Martinet recruited his plaintiffs. The first man was Daniel de Dunes, a young Creole musician who was the son of one of the committee members. In February 1892, Daniel boarded a train headed to Mobile, Alabama, and was arrested and charged for sitting in the car reserved for whites.

But there would need to be a second man on a second train. Since the committee was unsure which might prove to be the better case, they had to challenge the Separate Cars Act on trains running both outside and inside the state of Louisiana. The second plaintiff was named Homer Plessy. Plessy was a 29-year-old shoemaker from New Orleans affiliated with the committee. He had never been arrested before. Like de Dunes, Plessy was light-skinned. His family was Haitian and French and had lived in New Orleans since the 1790s. And it was his appearance that was the most important element, since Homer Plessy needed to be able to buy a ticket and take a seat in a whites-only train car without arousing any suspicion.

Only once Plessy had taken his seat and the train had begun to move would the next phase of the plan began. Imagine it's June 7th, 1892, a warm, cloudy day just after four in the afternoon. You're the train conductor for this East Louisiana Railroad trip from Covington and the resort towns just across Lake Pontchartrain. Today, you're in the first class car, collecting tickets from the passengers. One by one, you inspect the destination and the stamp. Tickets, please. Ma'am, can I see your ticket?

You started working for the railroad two years ago, just after the Separate Car Act passed. Your first week, you had to put up the signs designating which cars were for black people and which were for whites. You thought the law was stupid, and it's even more stupid now that it's your job to enforce it. Sir, ticket please. The man in front of you is calm as he hands you his ticket.

He's polite. He looks as white as you. He must be Homer Plessy. You were never told what the man would look like, just his seat number. You check the ticket one last time and look him in the eye and say the words you're seat number. You check the ticket one last time, then look him in the eye and say the words you're supposed to. Are you a colored man? Yes, I am. Then you will have to retire to the colored car. I will not. I'm an American citizen, and I paid for my ticket. The train goes to Covington, and I intend to ride it to Covington.

If you won't remove yourself to the colored car, then I'm going to have to remove you from this train. I will stay right where I am. With that, you pull the bell, signaling the conductor. The train slowly grinds to a halt, and the other passengers groan. It doesn't take long for the private detective from the train station to climb into the stopped train car. You've never seen the detective before the train station to climb into the stop train car. You've never seen the detective before either, but he's about to play his part. Sir, if you are colored, you should go to the train car set apart for your race. The law is plain and it must be obeyed. But Homer Plessy doesn't move.

He just looks up at you and at the detective. All right, then. You're just going to have to come with us. Plessy stands up as the detective places cuffs on him. You almost want to clap yourself, but for a totally different reason. The people on this train have no idea that they're actually helping the Citizens Committee's test case, just like you, the detective, and Homer Plessy. Everything's going according to plan. Homer Plessy was bailed out of jail that evening. Both the train conductor, J.J. Dolling, and private detective Christopher C. Kane had been hired by the Citizens Committee. They'd played their parts well, and now Homer Plessy had a case.

The New Orleans Daily Picayune greeted the story with jeers. Another Jim Crow car case, read the headline, while it promised the reader further details on the arrest of a Negro traveler who persisted in riding with the white people. Just two days later, Martinette received a notice that New Orleans Criminal Court Judge John Ferguson had thrown out Daniel Day-Dune's case. Interstate travel was a federal matter, not a state one. But Judge Ferguson would hear Plessy's case. It was a good thing that Martinette had pressed for two different arrests. Homer Plessy was going to get his day in court in New Orleans. On November 18, 1892, Homer Plessy appeared before Judge Ferguson. Ferguson wasted little time pronouncing Homer Plessy guilty of

violating the state's law, declaring, there is no pretense that he was not provided with equal accommodations of the white passengers. Plessy was simply deprived of the liberty of doing as he pleased. Then, upon appeal, the Louisiana State Supreme Court upheld Judge Ferguson's ruling. The case of Plessy v. Ferguson was headed to the Supreme Court, but the road to challenging racial segregation in Louisiana would be anything but smooth. Faced with unsympathetic justices, Plessy's legal team would gain a faraway ally, a lawyer who would be instrumental in attempting to strike down injustice throughout the country. In a quiet suburb, a community is shattered by the death of a beloved wife and mother. But this tragic loss of life quickly turns into something even darker. Her husband had tried to hire a hitman on the dark web to kill her.

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A Louisiana lawyer had handled the case so far in the New Orleans courts, but Martinet needed someone else, someone who could argue Homer Plessy's case on a national stage. Martinet would find his man a thousand miles away in upstate New York. Albion Tourget was 53 years old. Known primarily as a novelist, he wore a glass eye and had adopted an accent mark to sit atop the first E in Tourget. The last case he'd argued in front of the Supreme Court had been 20 years ago. So while out of practice and a bit

eccentric, Torget was also a prominent white advocate for black civil rights. A former Union soldier, Torget had been a judge in Reconstruction-era North Carolina, where he ruled against the Ku Klux Klan and spoke openly against racist politics. Retiring from the bench, Torget had moved back to upstate New York, but stayed involved in the fight against racist lawmaking. So far, Albion Torget had helped construct Homer Plessy's entire case through writing letters to the Citizens Committee from his home in New York. In one, he stressed the futility

of defining racial categories. Race is a scientific and legal question of great difficulty, Torget wrote. Technically, Homer Plessy was only one-eighth black. In Torgett's view, this percentage proved the absurdity of the separate car law. It was unreasonable to write racial classifications into law, and even more ludicrous to empower train conductors to make those distinctions. And even if there were a clear and simple way to distinguish black from white, which there was not, the state's

law violated the 14th Amendment's guarantee of equal protection under the law. But Torgé knew it would not be easy to convince the justices of the Supreme Court to share his reasoning. Over the years, the Supreme Court had often helped to reinforce and even strengthen racial divisions. In 1858, the court had ruled in Dred Scott v. Sanford that black men and women were not people but property. Chief Justice Roger Taney had written for the majority that constitutionally, black people were a subordinate and inferior class of beings, with no rights which the white man was bound to respect. That ruling and its fallout helped to inflame debate around slavery and usher in the Civil War.

After the war, slavery was abolished. Black people became official citizens of the United States, and they were promised equal protection under the law. In 1875, Congress passed the Civil Rights Act. This legislation was a positive step towards ensuring equal access to housing, public transportation, and social accommodations for people of color. But in less than a decade, the Supreme Court struck down the anti-discriminatory provisions of that law. In a set of five related cases, decided under the heading of Civil Rights Cases of 1883, the Court declared the Civil Rights Act unconstitutional. Speaking for an 8-1 majority, Justice Joseph Bradley ruled that the equal protections of the 14th Amendment did not give Congress the power to ban private acts of

racial discrimination. He wrote in his opinion, When a man has emerged from slavery, there must be some stage in the process of his elevation when he takes the rank of a mere citizen and ceases to be the special favorite of the laws. It had only been two decades since the end of a mere citizen and ceases to be the special favorite of the laws. It had only been two decades since the end of slavery, a system that had fueled American growth for more than two centuries. Yet the Supreme Court's ruling suggested that Black people had no legal claim to try and fight racial discrimination. This suggestion was still very much in place nearly ten years later when Louisiana Judge Ferguson ruled it was a crime for Homer Plessy to ride in a whites-only car. But the Citizens Committee had expected Ferguson

to rule this way. In a way, they'd planted a legal trap, and Ferguson had sprung it. But it would take until 1896 for Plessy's case to make its way to the Supreme Court bench. For three years, there was nothing to do but wait and try and build the best case possible. Imagine it's 1896. You live in the town of Maysville in upstate New York. It's a wonderful place in the summer when the days are 12 hours long and the breeze comes in off the water. Today, you've ridden around the edge of Lake Chautauqua to the house of Albion Tourget. You've been friends with his family ever since they settled up here 15 years ago. You find him on the lawn outside his house, pacing in the grass. Albion, what are you doing out here? My wife told me if I'm going to continue pacing, it's best I do it outside,

so I can more fully take in the fresh air. Ah, so she wants to be rid of you. Yes, yes, and I can't blame her. I haven't been sleeping well. You know that Albion's worried. You can see it in his face. And you suspect the cause is the same reason you stopped by for this casual visit. Any idea when the Supreme Court might call you for the Plessy case? None. None at all. The highest court in the land doesn't like to bother with little things like advance notice.

You get the call, and off you trot. Every day I have to tell myself, don't worry, it's just the whole history of racial relations in this country riding on the decision, so just keep waiting. Albion paces around the side of the house, and you follow him to a small pile of wood. You can't think of it that way. That's an impossible mountain to move. True. But I've always been a fool. Albion picks up an axe, swings it, and brings it down sharply, splitting a wooden log in two. I was certainly a fool trying to fight the Ku Klux Klan in North Carolina.

No, you were not. You were a judge. The bench is a powerful place. Change comes from it. Ha! Ah, change. More often, entrenchment is the only decision justices really make. If we lose, it'll be worse than if we ever tried to overturn that damn law in the first place. And there it is, the worry that's been keeping you up at night, too. You never considered that possibility? To be honest, I didn't give been keeping you up at night, too. You never considered that possibility? To be honest, I didn't give it much thought in the beginning, no.

Our chances seem so strong. But if the Supreme Court upholds the Separate Car Act, it could become the law of the land. One terrifyingly short-sighted law in one backward state could then be codified as proof that any state could do the same. And then, Albion stops, as if he's seeing you again for the first time. Yes, yeah, and then, then I would have to ride in a separate train car in every state, Albion. Albion's face falls. The stakes are highest for you, I am very aware. You give him a tight smile, the same one you give all your white friends when the topic of race comes up.

I know you'll bring the best case you can. God knows I'm trying. But that's all you can do. Now, can we go inside and find something to eat? Albion nods and gives you a small smile. It makes you feel good to see his spirits up, even for a moment. He stands a better chance if he's confident. Now, if you could only just calm

your own fears. Put your arm around his shoulder and the two of you head inside together. By 1896, it had been four years since Homer Plessy's arrest. Despite any misgivings he might have had, Torgé still remained confident in Homer Plessy's case and confident in the handful of justices who might swing a ruling in his favor. Foremost of these was Associate Justice John Marshall Harlan, whose views on the subject of race were complex. Harlan had grown up in Kentucky to a landed, slave-holding family. He'd supported the Union, but considered the end of slavery to be a violation of property rights.

After the Civil War, Harlan's attitudes toward black civil rights had shifted to a more open-minded stance. He'd been the lone holdout in the Supreme Court's 1883 decision overturning the Civil Rights Act, and he was a vocal dissenter in many other cases, often pounding on the desk and shaking his finger at his fellow justices. Sharing the bench with Harlan were two other Republican justices, Horace Gray and David Brewer. These were the men Albion Torje felt relatively certain would vote along party lines, and that meant for his client. Justices Rufus Peckham, George Shires, and Harry Billings Brown were the swing votes. All were Northerners, and Shires and Brown were both Republican,

but in the past they had also demonstrated more enthusiasm in upholding states' rights than equal rights. The last three justices, including Chief Justice Melville Fuller, were nearly lost causes. But they tended to rule in favor of cases involving contract law and property law. Chief Justice Fuller believed in the sanctity of an unregulated market. Perhaps if Torgé could connect Plessy's case to a property argument, he'd have a chance. But Torgé didn't need Fuller. He only needed five votes out of nine. If Harlan, Gray, and Brewer came through, Torgé would only need two swing votes to win. On April 13, 1896, Albion Torgé was finally summoned to Washington to make his case. The oral arguments in Plessy v. Ferguson were the only ones the court had scheduled for the day.

Torgé spoke from note cards he had written out beforehand, but the ideas had been developed with Louis Martinet and Torgé's co-counsel, James C. Walker, the lawyer who had first tried the case in Louisiana. Neither of them could attend the hearing. The gist of our case, Torgé began, is the unconstitutionality of the Separate Cars Act. The 14th Amendment, still less than 30 years old, guaranteed that any person born in the United States was a citizen, that they could not be deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process. Nor could they be denied the equal protection of the law. These words,

equal protection, were the circle Torgé drew around Plessy's case. Torgé asked the justices of the court to consider what would happen if train conductors were authorized to classify men and women by race. What visual cues would they use, and where would the line drawing stop? Why made the state not require all red-headed people to ride in a separate car, Torgé asked. Why not require white and black people to walk on separate sides of the street? A white man's house could be painted white, and a black man's house black. Surely these steps could formalize both the separation and the equality of the races supposedly required in Louisiana state law. After he posed these questions, Tourget pivoted.

If a person's race was so essential to their reputation, didn't their race also approximate a property right? Tourget asked the justices for a moment, imagine themselves as black people. How much would it be worth to a young man entering upon the practice of law to be regarded as a white man rather than a colored one? Six-sevenths of the population are white. Nineteen-twentieths of the country's property is owned by white people. Indeed, is reputation not the most valuable sort of property,

being the master key that unlocks the golden door of opportunity? In closing, Torgé argued that the only real effect of the separate car law was to perpetuate the stigma of color, to make the curse immortal, incurable, inevitable. With those words, he closed his case. Buried under precedent and arguments and pages of legalese lay Homer Plessy's freedom to catch any train he wanted. And the court's

decision would have far-reaching consequences, not just for Homer Plessy, but for every state in the Union. In November 1991, media tycoon Robert Maxwell mysteriously vanished from his luxury yacht in the Canary Islands. But it wasn't just his body that would come to the surface in the days that followed. It soon emerged that Robert's business was on the brink of collapse, and behind his facade of wealth and success was a litany of bad investments, mounting debt, and multi-million dollar fraud. Hi, I'm Lindsey Graham, the host of Wondery Show Business Movers. We tell the true stories of business leaders who risked it all, the critical moments that define their journey, and the ideas that transform the way we live our lives.

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I'm Tristan Redman, and as a journalist, I've never believed in ghosts. But when I discovered that my wife's great-grandmother was murdered in the house next door to where I grew up, I started wondering about the inexplicable things that happened in my childhood bedroom. When I tried to find out more, I discovered that someone who slept in my room after me, someone I'd never met, was visited by the ghost of a faceless woman. So I started digging into the murder in my wife's family, and I unearthed family secrets nobody could have imagined. Ghost Story won Best Documentary

Podcast at the 2024 Ambees and is a Best True Crime nominee at the British Podcast Awards 2024. Ghost Story is now the first ever Apple Podcast Series Essential. Each month, Apple Podcast editors spotlight one series that has captivated listeners with masterful storytelling, creative excellence, and a unique creative voice and vision. To recognize Ghost Story being chosen as the first series essential, Wondery has made it ad-free for a limited time, only on Apple Podcasts. If you haven't listened yet, head over to Apple Podcasts to hear for yourself. On May 18th, 1896, the Supreme Court handed down its verdict in the case of Plessy v. Ferguson. It was just a little over a month since Algie and Torgy had traveled to Washington to argue Plessy's case.

In a 7-to-1 vote, the court ruled in favor of Louisiana's Separate Car Act and against Homer Plessy. In spite of Torgy's calculations, all but Justice John Marshall Harlan had ruled against his client. Now, any one of the country's 45 states could forcibly and legally segregate people of different races. Even though the decision was nearly unanimous, it was written not by Chief Justice Melville Fuller, but by Associate Justice Henry Billings Brown. Brown's opinion dismissed Plessy's 14th Amendment claims and pointed to the existence of separate schools and bans on interracial marriage to justify Louisiana's segregation law.

The court acknowledged that race may be difficult to pin down, but left it up to the states to determine their own criteria. So long as facilities were equal, the separation was perfectly legal. The court could see no so-called badge of inferiority, even if black people chose to see it as such. Finally, Justice Brown concluded, if one race be inferior to the other socially, the Constitution of the United States cannot put them on the same plane. Justice Brown concluded that although society may be unjust, it wasn't the role of the courts or any branch of the government to right that wrong. The court's

decision did not create any new justifications for racial segregation. It only locked the old justifications into place. Separate but equal, and with it legal justification for white supremacy, was now the law of the land. Justice John Marshall Harlan wrote a blistering dissent. In the eye of the law, there is in this country no superior, dominant, ruling class of citizens. There is no caste here. Our Constitution is colorblind and neither knows nor tolerates classes among its citizens. In respect of civil rights, all citizens are equal before the law. Harlan continued with a warning. The judgment this day rendered will, in time, prove to be

quite as pernicious as the decision made by this tribunal in the Dred Scott case. Harlan would be proved right, but his was just one voice out of seven, and the justices had plenty else to attend to. That day, the court also handed out decisions in 52 other cases. Three of these decisions were reported on from the front page of the New York Times. Plessy v. Ferguson was not among them. Back in Louisiana, Homer Plessy had been found guilty, and now he needed to pay the price. Imagine it's January 1897. It's been five years since you first represented Homer Plessy as his lead counsel in New Orleans, looking to challenge the Separate Car Act. And it's been just eight months since the Supreme Court handed down the decision you

and your co-counsel Albion Torgi were dreading. Today, you've returned to the New Orleans criminal courthouse with your client in order that he may pay the fine he owes to the state of Louisiana. Your client is a bit nervous. I hope this isn't going to take long. It was hard enough to get the morning off work as it is. You feel for him. Homer stopped making shoes a while ago. On the way over, he told you he'd started working in a warehouse downtown. Who's the judge? I don't see Judge Ferguson anywhere. No, his term expired. The new judge calls the room to order.

In the matter of Plessy v. Ferguson, I hear that we have counsel and defendant before us? Yes, Your Honor. And you'd like to change the plea recorded July 20, 1892, if not guilty? Your Honor, my client would like to change that plea to guilty. We'd like to waive all legal delay and be sentenced immediately. Beside you, you can feel Homer's body stiffen in anger at the word guilty, but he doesn't say anything. So noted, Homer Adolph Plessy, you have pled guilty according to the provisions of Section 2 of Act Number 111 of the My client will pay the $25, sir. So noted.

But Homer won't be paying with his money. The Citizens Committee raised the $25, but since disbanded. You're one of the last members left, you and Homer. You helped build Homer's case, the test case, with Albie and Torgy. You were supposed to travel north and present it at the Supreme Court, but you had to back out for health reasons. Every step of this case was planned, every move except the part where you lost. The court's business for the day continues while you and your client make your way into the hallway and pass the other defendants awaiting adjudication. Homer turns and shakes your hand. Well, I'll be seeing you. Goodbye, Homer.

I'm sorry we didn't win. Homer turns and heads down the hallway. You watch him go, past the swinging doors and out into the streets. Just another man headed back to work. The Citizens Committee folded in late 1896, not long after the Supreme Court's decision. In Louis Martinet's newspaper, The Crusader would soon close as well. But in one of its final issues, Martinet reasserted his commitment to the fight. We as free men still believe that we were right and that our cause is sacred. Martinet withdrew himself from the public arena. He would not publish again, but continued to live in New Orleans until his death in 1917. Albion Torgy,

too, was bitterly discouraged by his loss in the Plessy case. He died in France in 1905. As for Homer Plessy, his brief tenure in civil disobedience was over. He continued working as a warehouseman, as a clerk, and eventually took up a position at the black-owned People's Life Insurance Company. He died in 1925 at the age of 62. Plessy v. Ferguson gave the doctrine of separate but equal legal protection that stood for the next 60 years. The Supreme Court's decision helped to erode the gains of the Reconstruction era. It also struck a blow to the promise of the 14th Amendment and ushered in decades of racial inequality in the South. The same year Homer Plessy pled guilty and paid his fine in criminal court, the state of Louisiana held a new constitutional convention in New Orleans.

The Judiciary Committee chairman of this convention bluntly declared, We met here to establish the supremacy of the white race. Our mission is to establish the extent to which white manhood suffrage could be legally and constitutionally done. Meeting for over 66 days, the convention passed a series of new constitutional bylaws stripping voting rights from Black citizens of the state. Later that year, the Louisiana Governor Murphy Foster approved these changes and gave a speech as a toast. The white supremacy for which we have so long struggled, at the cost of so much precious blood and treasure, is gathering itself in a common brotherhood for the exercise of its unified power. Between 1897 and 1900, the state of Louisiana

purged approximately 129,000 Black voters from its rolls. Meanwhile, registration among white voters surged. 96% of eligible white voters now went to the polls, up from just 56% a few years before. Segregation also expanded to Louisiana's streetcars and public water fountains. White majority rule became entrenched as the law of the land, while lynchings and violence against Black people spiked in the region. But amidst all this turmoil, Black activists organized and fought back. A group of 29 activists from 14 states founded the Niagara Movement. One of their founders was W.E.B. Du Bois, who called for the reestablishment of basic rights

for Black citizens in a speech at Harper's Ferry in 1906, saying, We want full manhood suffrage, and we want it now, henceforth, and forever. We want discrimination and public accommodation to cease. Separation in railway and streetcars based simply on race and color is un-American, undemocratic, and silly. We want the law enforced against rich as well as poor, against capitalists as well as laborer, against white as well as black. Du Bois and other Niagara Movement members would found the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, or NAACP, in 1909. The organization would be a leading force in the fight to roll back disenfranchisement and institutional racism throughout the country. It would help to ensure that the decision of the Supreme Court in Plessy v. Ferguson would not be the last word,

and that the bold arguments of Louis Martinet and the Citizens Committee in New Orleans and the train ride of Homer Plessy would not be the last word, and that the bold arguments of Lewis Martinet and the Citizens Committee in New Orleans and the train ride of Homer Plessy would not be forgotten. Next on American History Tellers, an executive order in 1942 leads to the forced internment of thousands of Japanese Americans in the United States. As World War II rages across the ocean, a young man named Fred Korematsu defies the military and challenges President Franklin Roosevelt in the halls of the Supreme Court. From Wondery, this is episode three of Supreme Court Landmarked for American History Tellers. I also have two other podcasts you might like, American Scandal and American Elections Wicked Game. For more information on Plessy v. Ferguson, we recommend We as Free Men by Keith Weldon Medley.

American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsey Graham for Airship. Audio editing by Molly Bach. Sound design by Derek Behrens. This episode is written by George Ducker, edited by Dorian Marina. Our executive producers are Jenny Lauer Beckman and Marshall Louie,

created by Hernán López for Wondery.