This Sunday, February 16, 2025, will be the day, 192 years ago, when -- a mere 5 days after oral arguments -- the U.S. Supreme Court issued its (in)famous opinion in Barron ex rel. Tiernan v. Mayor and City Council of Baltimore, 32 U.S. 243 (1833).
Generations of law students study this decision in their Con Law classes, and it is mostly known as the case in which the Court held that the Bill of Rights limits only the federal government and does not limit the power of states. For the latter, one must look to state constitutions. Barron, of course, was overruled or otherwise neutralized by the Fourteenth Amendment (privileges or immunities clause or the due process clause, take your pick). And it was formally abrogated in Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroad Co. v. City of Chicago, 166 U.S. 226 (1897) (states and their instrumentalities are bound by the Fourteenth Amendment to respect the Just Compensation Clause).
But the reason we're posting our sad birthday wishes today isn't for that reason, but more because in our estimation, Barron was the first "takings" case considered by the U.S. Supreme Court.
The case was instituted by the owners of a mostly-prosperous wharf on Baltimore Harbor against the City of Baltimore. The municipality had undertaken street upgrades and improvements on one of the city's several hills nearby, which resulted in increased runoff into the harbor and the eventual silting up of the plaintiffs' wharf. And guess what happens when a wharf loses its access to the water? Well, it's not really a wharf any longer, is it.
Next up, a claim against the city for what today we'd call an inverse condemnation or maybe a takings claim. Your actions, Baltimore, destroyed the use and value of our property, a wharf. As the claim worked its way up the judicial food chain, it morphed from a more common-law vibe to a constitutional question: did the Fifth Amendment require that the city provide just compensation if indeed its actions effectively had taken the plaintiffs' property?
As the opinion put it:
The plaintiff in error contends that it comes within that clause in the fifth amendment to the constitution, which inhibits the taking of private property for public use without just compensation. He insists that this amendment, being in favour of the liberty of the citizen, ought to be so construed as to restrain the legislative power of a state, as well as that of the United States.
Barron, 32 U.S. at 247.
Remember, this was a time when no one really knew whether the limitations on government in the Bill of Rights was something that was supposed to apply to all governments, state and federal, or were only intended to limit the federal government (as in, say, the First Amendment, where the phrasing was "Congress shall make no law...").
As we know, it turned out badly for the property owner plaintiffs. Sorry, held Chief Justice Marshall (in the final opinion in his long career), the Bill of Rights only limits the federal government. If you want protection from your state (or local) governments, you can look to your state constitutions. Relying on no cited authority whatsoever, in the Chief's words:
The constitution was ordained and established by the people of the United States for themselves, for their own government, and not for the government of the individual states.
Id. The Chief relied on a maxim of statutory construction, concluding that if the ratifiers of the amendments wanted them to apply to the states, they would have said so.
In light of Mr. Justice Marshall's track record on the Court of being a pretty hard-core "national" guy (his more famous rulings, after all, were all about the power of the Constitution to forge a strong, continent-wide national government, in which the states had their places), you might have been a bit surprised that he was a poodle when it came to bringing states to heel when it came to individual rights. So what gives, JM?
For some answers -- and a great backstory of the case and some its more famous personalities such as Roger Taney, Esq. -- you could not do better than Professor William Davenport Mercer's "Diminishing the Bill of Rights: Barron v. Baltimore and the Foundations of American Liberty" (U. Okla. Press 2017). Professor Davenport details the case, and the arguments. But also sees the decision in the larger context and asks the vital question: why did the Court rule the way it did?
We are of opinion that the provision in the fifth amendment to the constitution, declaring that private property shall not be taken for public use without just compensation, is intended solely as a limitation on the exercise of power by the government of the United States, and is not applicable to the legislation of the states. We are therefore of opinion that there is no repugnancy between the several acts of the general assembly of Maryland, given in evidence by the defendants at the trial of this cause, in the court of that state, and the constitution of the United States. This court, therefore, has no jurisdiction of the cause; and it is dismissed.
Id. at 250-251.
Here's the book's description:
The modern effort to locate American liberties, it turns out, began in the mud at the bottom of Baltimore harbor. John Barron Jr. and John Craig sued the city for damages after Baltimore’s rebuilt drainage system diverted water and sediment into the harbor, preventing large ships from tying up at Barron and Craig’s wharf. By the time the case reached the U.S. Supreme Court in 1833, the issue had become whether the city’s actions constituted a taking of property by the state without just compensation, a violation of the Fifth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. The high court’s decision in Barron v. Baltimore marked a critical step in the rapid evolution of law and constitutional rights during the first half of the nineteenth century.
Diminishing the Bill of Rights examines the backstory and context of this decision as a turning point in the development of our current conception of individual rights. Since the colonial period, Americans had viewed their rights as springing from multiple sources, including the common law, natural right, and English legal tradition. Despite this rich heritage and a prohibition grounded in the Magna Carta against uncompensated state takings of property, the Court ruled against Barron’s claim. The Bill of Rights, Chief Justice John Marshall declared in his opinion for the majority, restrained only the federal government, not the states. The Fifth Amendment, accordingly, did not apply to Maryland or any of the cities it chartered.
In explaining how the Court came to reject a multisourced view of human liberties—a position seemingly inconsistent with its previous decisions—William Davenport Mercer helps explain why we now envision the Constitution as essential to guaranteeing our rights. Marshall’s view of rights in Barron, Mercer argues, helped him navigate the Court through the precarious political currents of the time. While the chief justice may have effected a shrewd political maneuver, the decision helped hasten a reconceptualization of rights as located in documents. Its legacy, as Mercer’s work makes clear, is among the Jacksonian era’s significant democratic reforms and marks the emergence of a distinctly American constitutionalism.
We've read the book, and recommend it. It is a real-eye opener.
And over the past 192 years, history has not been kind to Barron. The Civil War was the end-product of Barron's vibe, one might say. And the Fourteenth Amendment expressly recognized that indeed, states are limited by the Constitution, and that our civil liberties and freedoms are not only acknowledged in state constitutions.
If there was any doubt, the takings aspects of Barron ended up in history's dustbin with the Chicago Burlington case, which held that indeed, states and their instrumentalities are bound by the Fifth Amendment's requirement of just compensation. And whatever might have been left of Barron was finally left fully behind in Pennsylvania Coal.
So happy... er sad birthday, Barron v. Baltimore!
Barron ex rel. Tiernan v. Mayor and City Council of Baltimore, 32 U.S. 243 (Feb. 16, 1833)