Robert L. Steadman, 33°
Grand Lodge of Masons
186 Tremont Street, Boston, Massachusetts 02111-1095

A violent courtroom incident tests the author's Masonic adherence
to the fourth cardinal virtue, justice.

As a trial Judge and as Chief Justice of the Massachusetts Superior Court, I can say the Craft has had a profound effect on my professional life and become an important part of who and what I am today.

I am going to go back almost 50 years and, with your permission, take you with me. We have all been there and can reflect together on what happened to us on that memorable day when we were made a Mason. I was a young attorney looking forward to a career as a trial lawyer with a major Boston law firm. There were no Masons in my family, I knew nothing about the Fraternity, and what I had heard was definitely mixed. It was hard to divide truth from fiction.

With the reservations usually present when facing the unknown, I made application for membership and, in response, received a letter from the Lodge Secretary requesting that I appear at 7:00 pm at the Masonic Temple to take my First Degree. I obediently appeared and was ushered into a small room where I met three other Candidates who were strangers to me. My conductor said, "Trust me" and took me by the arm and led me down a long corridor to a door. I guessed it to be the Lodge Room. I felt alone, and it was not unlike passing from the security of the real world to the insecurity of a strange but peaceful environment where you relied on unseen others for refuge.

I had a thoughtful companion with me, but unknown to me until that evening. I didn't know why, but I trusted him, and that trust was not violated. I was prepared for whatever was to come. That was the beginning of a marvelous adventure, a learning experience that changed who I was and changed my approach to life, the practice of law, and, later on, my career in the judiciary.

At the end of that evening, I was made a Mason. I was not the same neophyte escorted into the Lodge Room earlier that night. I was a different person; I had just had a life-altering experience. At that point in time, if asked, I would not have been able to put into words what that change was, but after living Masonry for nearly half a century, I would like to try to express, in some meaningful way, the metamorphosis, the profound change in my life, that started on that day and continues to the present.

The lesson unfolded before me reinforced my unalterable belief in a Supreme Being and provided me with the additional moral fiber to practice and adhere to the lessons contained in the four cardinal virtues: temperance, fortitude, prudence, and justice. These virtues are not unique to Masonry, but that evening, the words took on a broader and more significant meaning. They were not just words, but a formula for living.

The presiding Master of the Lodge gave the lecture. He was a grand old Scot named George Imlack, who had a brogue that could cut down an oak tree. I hung onto every word, listening with the critical ear of a young, know-it-all, skeptical, overly suspicious, young trial lawyer. I was totally focused on what my new responsibilities were, as a man, as a Mason, as a lawyer, and as a judge. I knew then that I had to make adjustments in my professional philosophy to make it more consistent with my newfound Masonic ideology. When the Master came to the virtue of justice, his voice deepened, and it struck its mark, my heart.

There were other Candidates that evening, but it was clear, crystal clear, that he was talking to me, just to me, no one else. Or so I felt. Justice, he said, is that standard or boundary of right, which enables us to render unto every man his just due, without distinction. This virtue is not only consistent with divine law, but is the very cement and support of civil society. He reminded me that as justice in great measure constitutes the real and good man, so should it be the invariable practice never to deviate from the minutest principle thereof. It keeps coming back to me: "never deviate from the minutest principle thereof." What a magnificent credo, particularly for a jurist!

There is a nice distinction between law and justice. The law parts of the equation are the enactments of our courts, lawmakers, the legislatures. The justice part of the equation originates from the individual judge and the way that he or she administers and applies that law to the facts of the case.

Brother Davy Crockett wrote in his biography that, when he was a magistrate, his decisions were fair because he did not know "the law," but he knew about "common justice and honesty." There is no better source of common justice and honesty than the tenets taught in Masonry.

My adherence to the four cardinal virtues has been tested many times by the unpredictable dynamics of the courtroom, and, on some occasions, most regrettably, I came close to deviating from the standards I was taught. One case, in particular, tested me severely.

On my very first criminal sitting as a Superior Court Judge, I was presiding over a case involving a very attractive young lady who said the accused raped her. The defendant was a giant hulk of a man, who, according to his record, was without redeeming graces.

The distraught victim was on the stand testifying and at the same time bravely fighting back her tears. The courtroom was deathly still as she courageously delineated the horrid events of this tragic moment in her life. She came to the point in her testimony where she was detailing what the defendant did to her. At the most dramatic and pivotal point of the questioning, all eyes and ears focused on her. The jury was frozen in place. I noticed the defendant start to squirm, and then he snapped. He made an unintelligible, high-pitched scream, and, in one leap, he had jumped out of his chair, knocked over a court officer, leaped on top of my clerk's desk, then landed on the top of my bench, glaring down at me. Reinforcements quickly arrived, and he was set upon by a swarm of court officers who wrestled him to the ground and put him in shackles.

I was outraged. My immediate thought was vengeance and how to get even with him for his outrageous conduct in my courtroom. I was hurt and offended. He had made this personal. Or was it I who made it personal?

I ordered the jury out of the courtroom and retired to my office to stew, fume, and plot sweet revenge. I thought about a life sentence or perhaps a public hanging on the Boston Common. Yes, that is it!

Then I said to myself, "Steadman, stop right there." What a terrible thought. Here was a defendant who appeared before me seeking justice, a man who had not yet been found guilty of any charge, and I am considering hanging him on the Boston Common. Who do I think I am? I am supposed to be a judge-not judge, jury, and executioner.

I knew right away that there was no temperance in my outrageous thoughts of vengeance. There was no fortitude in my lack of courage in facing this unique challenge. There was no prudence in my failure to seek a judicious resolution to this dilemma. More importantly, there was no justice in my unrighteous thoughts of retribution. Once I tested my thoughts, words, and actions against the criteria of the four cardinal virtues, I found I was wanting.

I now knew that my initial management of the defendant's improper conduct was inappropriate, and I quickly reversed course, using my mind instead of my emotions to devise an appropriate response to the defendant's uncontrollable conduct. I had regained my senses. Worshipful George Imlack's lecture on the First Degree would not be lost on me.

My plan was this. I ordered the defendant to be returned to the courtroom (without the jury present) with full security. But before he was returned to the courtroom, I ordered him cloaked in double cuffs and double waist and leg irons. I was amazed that he was able to stand, much less walk. I informed the defendant that I was going to complete the trial of his case and that he can be tried dressed as he is now, in iron from head to toe, or he can be tried as a man, with some dignity and his chains removed.

The decision is his, I told him, but be assured, one way or the other, this case will be tried.

He was calm now. He thought for a moment and said, "Judge, I am sorry. I would like the chains removed." I said, "If I take them off, do you promise to behave yourself during the rest of this trial?" He said that he would, and I said, "I will take your word for it." I then ordered all the handcuffs and body chains removed.

They were removed without incident, and the defendant conducted himself with the utmost decorum during the remainder of the trial. He gave his word, and he kept it right up to the verdict. He was found guilty, and the sentence I gave him was no different from the sentence I would have given any other defendant for the crime for which he stood convicted. I did not add a single day to his sentence because of his conduct in my courtroom. That was not the crime he was charged with and tried for. The defendant learned his lesson that day, I learned mine, and I became a better judge because of it.

I have often wondered how our Ancient Grand Master, Solomon, King of Israel, would view the hundreds of cases that I have tried and the verdicts and sentences I have rendered. But then, I never claimed to possess Solomonic wisdom. What I am more concerned about is whether or not I have met with the rigorous standard taught to me by that Grand Old Scot, Worshipful George Imlack, who taught me the real lesson of justice on my first day as a Mason. I pray that I have. Please know that the lessons he taught-temperance, fortitude, prudence, and justice-are not limited to the judiciary, but are the Masonic requirements for all of our relationships with our fellowman.

Robert Lloyd Steadman is a Past Master of Weymouth United Masonic Lodge, South Weymouth, Mass., Past Master of the 22nd Lodge of Instruction, Past District Deputy Grand Master, Past Deputy Grand Master of the Most Worshipful Grand Lodge of Massachusetts, a Holder Joseph Warren Medal, Holder Henry Price Medal, and present Judge Advocate for the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts. In the Scottish Rite, he is an Active Member of the Supreme Council, 33°, Northern Masonic Jurisdiction, Past Deputy for Massachusetts, and presently Active Emeritus Member. He is also a member in the York Rite, Shrine, and DeMolay Legion of Honor. A graduate of Boston's Suffolk University Law School, Justice Steadman has been a trial lawyer and a trial judge for over 50 years. He has received many honors in his profession for his outstanding performance in several important offices, including his appointment as Associate Justice of the Massachusetts Superior Court (1979-88) followed by his later appointment as Chief Justice of the Court (1988-1993). Email: Bobstead@comcast.net