“Damn.” Baldwin thought that through. “A Southern majority can reverse Jay’s instructions.”
“Exactly. Your charming state claims all land west to the Mississippi, so Pierce and Few saw an opportunity to safeguard your state’s interests.”
Baldwin leaned toward Sherman. “Blount?”
“With no way to reach the sea, the value of his western lands will collapse. A treaty consistent with Jay’s instructions would be sweet for the North, a threat to Georgia, but a catastrophe for our ever-enterprising Mr. Blount. He’s bought vast tracts along the Mississippi.”
“Swindled, you mean. That man wouldn’t pay a fair price for his mother’s funeral.”
“Mr. Baldwin, you must pray for tolerance. The weak depend on the forbearance of others.”
“I shall make a note of it.” Baldwin sat back and laced his fingers around his cup. “No wonder Blount took off like a spooked mare.” Looking into Sherman’s eyes, he asked, “Roger, why do you care about our western lands?”
“I used the issue to lure your colleagues away. What I need is for you to hold a potent vote.”
“Houstoun will counterbalance my vote.”
“I only need Georgia to split.”
“Negate Georgia’s vote? You’ve convinced another state to swing your way?”
“A deadlock serves my purpose.”
“There’s more, isn’t there?”
“There’s always more.”
Baldwin leaned forward. “You rascal, what else have you cooked up?”
“Nothing has been sealed, but have you heard of Manasseh Cutler?”
“My God, you have made a pact with the devil.”
Sherman smiled. “The devil may not covet as much land.”
“The devil has clear title to his domain.”
Cutler represented the Society of the Cincinnati in front of Congress. The Northern chapters of the society, through Cutler, had petitioned Congress for land grants in lieu of back pay. So far, Congress had stalled. Rumors circulated that Congress and certain powerful New York politicians wanted a share of any land grant before they would approve the deal.
Sherman leaned conspiratorially close. “Abe, the nation needs revenue to pay off the war debt. In the next few weeks, Congress will get off its hindquarters. They’ll establish a governing authority for the Northwest Territory and award two massive land grants.”
“And how does that serve the South?”
“In a minute. The Ohio Company is controlled by the Society of the Cincinnati. They’ll get one and a half million acres. They’ll pay an immediate five hundred thousand dollars and another five hundred in the future. That’s about sixty-seven cents an acre. In a side deal, the Scioto Company gets five million acres. Same price.”
“Whoa! Who controls Scioto?”
“I can only say that it includes many powerful men. The Ohio deal couldn’t have been done without tying the two speculations together.”
“Clinton holds the reins in New York,” Baldwin mused. “He must be up to his neck in this. Every influential member of Congress must hold a piece of Scioto.”
“Draw your own conclusion,” Sherman said. “I’d never suggest that Clinton or our sniffy Congress could be seduced by a rigged investment.”
“What do we get from Congress?”
“Congress won’t challenge the convention’s authority. They’ll pass our work on to the states for ratification without raising too much ruckus.”
“And the South?”
“The Northwest Ordinance will restrict the number of new states from fifteen to five.”
“That’s only valuable if you get an equal vote in the Senate—ten senators instead of thirty.” A servant approached their table, but Baldwin waved him away. “Surely that’s not enough?”
“Fugitive slaves can be pursued across state lines.”
Baldwin thought about that piece of news. “The right to chase runaway slaves is vital, especially on the frontier. Damn clever.”
“The legislation also reduces the population requirement for new states. Since the South populates its frontier faster, they’ll heavily influence the Senate for decades.”
“What does the North get?”
“We get equal suffrage in the Senate, protection against squatters in our western lands, and slavery is prohibited in the Northwest Territory.”
“You clever rogue. When you stoop to debauchery, you don’t dither.”
“I do my best.”
“And all this somehow fits with equality in the Senate?”
“More directly than you might imagine. Each man’s price got piled on top of all the previous barters. It’s like a river: the course shifts as new floodwaters join and try to dominate the main current.”
“You got full measure for your pieces of silver.” Baldwin sat for a moment and then released one of his wicked smiles. “What do I get for my vote?”
“My undying friendship?”
“Already in my possession. What else?”
“Abe, I need your vote. The country needs your vote, and it will put you in good stead with the gentry in Savannah. Besides, you said equal suffrage is good for Georgia.”
“Others disagree.” Baldwin leaned forward, serious again. “Roger, we’re talking about the corruption of our vestal Congress. This must be the largest land deal in history. No king would be so generous.”
“It’s scandalous, but we believe it’s the only way to salvage this mess.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“I’m sworn to secrecy.”
Baldwin thought a moment before saying, “A plot of this magnitude must include Washington, and only Robert Morris could broker a land deal this size.”
Sherman sat silent.
When it became obvious that Sherman was not going to answer, Baldwin regained the twinkle in his eye. “Save the convention, parcel out the Northwest Territory, mollify the Cincinnati, and pay off our revolutionary war debt. Roger, you’ve been busy.”
“You forgot to mention killing the Jay treaty, reducing the number of Northern states, lowering the population requirement for new states, and allowing the pursuit of fugitive slaves.”
Baldwin let his weight fall against the wing-backed bench. “My, my, such squalid deeds to launch such a romantic vision.”
“I merely find things that tempt men to do what I want.”
“Any more pieces?”
“I’ve made personal assurances to support the South in later deliberations.”
“Slavery? Is your great compromise worth such a price?”
Sherman ignored the question. “Abe, I need your support.”
“Indeed you do. I’m the lynchpin of the entire deal.”
“What do you want?”
Without hesitation, Baldwin said, “How about your undying friendship?” Baldwin reached across the table, and Sherman immediately grasped his friend’s hand in a poignant shake. “Roger, you’re gifted. It’s a treat to watch you work.”
Sherman laughed. “Thanks, Abe. I owe you.”
“The whole country owes me. Thank God, I’m a man of small wants.”
“You alone preserved your integrity. Not a small want.”
With a blush, Baldwin raised his coffee in mock salute. “Then, to the greater glory of the American Empire.”
Sherman returned the gesture but altered the toast, “To God, family, and our countrymen.”
Baldwin took a sip and then said, “For the first time in weeks, I’m beginning to believe we’ll make something of this splintered land. Congratulations, you ol’ rascal”
Sherman grinned. “Keep your eyes open. Tomorrow is going to be an interesting day.”
As Sherman entered the State House chamber the next morning, he felt less troubled than at any time since his thorny compromise had tugged at his conscience. Baldwin’s open-minded support and good-natured ribbing lightened his unease and made him feel better about his draggletail conduct. Still, he had worries. He had pre
sented this hydra-headed deal as if a compact had been struck. In truth, time would either tie things together or blow his plan to every point on the compass.
Moving briskly, Sherman settled into his customary seat in the back of the chamber. The first order of business was the vote on Ellsworth’s motion for equal suffrage in the Senate.
Sherman watched the delegates as the secretary announced the vote. Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, and Delaware voted aye. Maryland was a swing state that usually split on votes that were important to Sherman. Daniel of St. Thomas Jenifer—a close friend of Washington—normally voted to cancel out Luther Martin’s vote for the small state side. Today, the aristocratic Jenifer was inexplicably absent. With the rare opportunity to control the Maryland vote, Martin threw his state behind equal suffrage in the Senate.
Sherman had five of the eleven votes.
The two large Northern states Pennsylvania and Massachusetts voted no. Then Virginia, North Carolina, and South Carolina held fast and voted no.
Madison had five of the eleven votes.
The secretary read the votes geographically, from north to south. Georgia was last. The delegates sat relaxed because no one anticipated any change in the Georgia vote and assumed a six to five defeat of equal suffrage in the Senate.
The secretary hesitated and then read in a startled voice, “Georgia divided.”
Sherman felt the entire chamber go taut. Georgia had never previously broken with the Deep South. William Houstoun had voted no, and Abe had cast his vote, along with a conspiratorial glance, to Sherman. The convention was deadlocked.
Sherman took pleasure in seeing Madison’s head swing left and right as he tried to spot an explanation on someone’s face. Sherman followed Madison’s sudden shift of attention to the back of the chamber, where the door made a soft but purposeful thud as it swung wide enough to bounce against the wall. Backlit by the great Palladian window in the Central Hall, the patrician Daniel of St. Thomas Jenifer stood on the threshold. After a theatrical pause, he sauntered into the chamber with a bearing, pace, and smile that said his tardiness was no accident.
Sherman marveled at Washington’s political instincts. Both had a hand in dispatching Pierce, Few, and Blount to New York. As agreed on Sunday, Sherman had delivered Baldwin, and Washington had convinced Jenifer to let Martin control the Maryland vote. He realized how blind he was to the imagery of power. The staging of Jenifer’s entrance, only moments after the shattering vote, sent the unmistakable signal that the general himself had orchestrated events, and that fighting the altered course meant fighting the most powerful political figure in the country.
Sherman looked at Washington, who sat as impassively as ever on the low dais. Not a clue could be read from his emotionless face. Jenifer took his seat and adjusted his coat with a gallant flip of the tails. As he turned his gaze to the front, Sherman realized that the chamber had been still during Jenifer’s entrance—stage center, as it were.
Rufus King leaped to his feet. “Mr. President, it’s obvious that Mr. Jenifer has been unavoidably detained. I respectfully request a new vote on the motion.”
Washington gave a sharp rap with his gavel and said in an unusually loud voice, “Denied. The rules do not provide for a second vote on the same day. We shall proceed with other business.”
No one stirred until Washington averted his gaze and moved his left forearm from the top of the table to his lap. Charles Pinckney then cleared his throat and asked for the floor.
Pinckney gave the barest of bows to Washington. “Gentlemen, I consent to the motion. Beyond the issue of large and small states, there’s a distinction between Northern and Southern interests. For example, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia have an interest in rice and indigo, which the North might sacrifice to achieve their own commercial aims.
“How can powerful states be prevented from controlling the government?” With a whirl that put him directly in front of Madison, Pinckney answered his own question. “By allowing the weak states a stronger vote in the second branch.”
Pinckney turned away from Madison and directed his attention to the delegates. “This is our last chance. Nothing prevents a general collapse except this convention. I can’t exaggerate the consequences if we dissolve this meeting. I propose a committee consisting of one member from each state be appointed to devise a resolution to this stalemate.”
Sherman’s admiration for Washington continued to grow. The idea of using a committee to work around the deadlock had been agreed to in advance. After they had decided on the committee membership, Washington said he would talk to a few delegates and convey to them a script for their parts. Charles Pinckney had never been mentioned as a coconspirator, but his recruitment was a masterstroke. Having played a small part, Pinckney could be gracefully blended into the new alliance.
Sherman stood to reinforce the committee idea. “We’re now at a full stop, and nobody wants to break up without doing something. I believe a committee will hit on some expedient.”
Gouverneur Morris agreed. “I think a committee is advisable, but the committee should also review the mode of appointing senators and their term. The executive must appoint senators, and senators must serve for life. If we change our laws, nobody will trust us, so we must avoid a change in laws by avoiding a change of men. The rich always strive to enslave the rest, so safety depends on keeping the rich together in the Senate and watching them from every side.”
Sherman gave a sideways glance at Ellsworth. This had not been scripted. Morris had veered badly off course. At least, Sherman hoped Washington didn’t endorse an aristocratic senate appointed by the executive for life.
Morris, as was his habit, banged his wooden leg on the floor to draw attention to his words. “Demagogues must be bribed, and a Senate seat for life is a grand enticement.”
Morris took his seat to scattered applause. Hamilton had also strongly endorsed the House of Lords model. Perhaps keeping the rich penned up provided greater protection than allowing them to mingle among commoners disguised in democratic garb.
Madison overcame his shock at the torrent of surprises and regained his voice. “Please, sirs, a committee rarely produces anything but delay. Any scheme a committee might propose can as easily be proposed in this chamber.” Madison walked over to his table and leaned into the chamber on splayed fingertips. “Gentlemen, this committee will be controlled by one vote per state. This is the very principle I’ve been fighting against.”
After that brittle note, a motion to establish a committee passed nine to two. Everyone in the chamber understood that Washington was eager to find a compromise. The next step was crucial to their plans. Sherman and Washington had conspired to load the committee with delegates sympathetic to the small state position, or at least not rigid in support of an unaltered Virginia Plan.
The election of committee members went smoothly. Ellsworth from Connecticut, Paterson from New Jersey, Gunning Bedford from Delaware, and Yates from New York championed the small state cause. Baldwin represented Georgia, and Daniel of St. Thomas Jenifer bowed out gracefully to let Luther Martin represent Maryland. Instead of the unbendable James Wilson, the affable Franklin represented Pennsylvania. Instead of the purist James Madison, the reasonable George Mason represented Virginia. Within the Massachusetts delegation, Nathaniel Gorham and Rufus King normally outvoted the hot-tempered Gerry, but Gerry would represent his state this time. Rutledge, a strong advocate for state rights, would sit for South Carolina and William Davie, an ardent champion of the South, represented North Carolina.
The die had been cast.
Everyone in the chamber saw the tidal change. Every committeeman had an interest in retaining some level of state authority over the central government. This group could be trusted to craft a compromise that used the states as a check against the tyranny of concentrated power.
Sherman made a motion to adjourn until Thursday, the fifth of July. “Gentlemen, this will give the committee time to do its work,
and it will provide us with a recess to celebrate the anniversary of our independence.”
The motion was quickly seconded and passed, but prior to people departing, Robert Morris asked for attention. “Gentlemen, I know you’re anxious to leave, but if I could have a moment. I’d like to invite everyone to dine at the Indian Queen at three o’clock this afternoon. Please, everyone join us. We’ll start the celebration of our independence and refresh our spirit.”
When Morris finished, every man in the room seemed to simultaneously funnel out the door. The unnatural absence of conversation told Sherman that everyone wanted to get away to converse in private with close associates. This indeed had been an eventful day.
Sherman and Ellsworth entered the large private room on the second floor of the Indian Queen to find it full. The mood was grimmer than Sherman had expected. Delegates milled around, drinking and talking in hushed tones. He spotted Madison in a corner, talking to Franklin. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the movement of their bodies told him that they weren’t exchanging idle banter. When Madison became animated, Franklin placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder to calm him.
The group dinner had been Washington’s idea, another example of how the general thought through the imagery of the moment. He wanted these men together where he could measure their reaction, cajole, and, when necessary, offer enticements. Sherman watched him move about the room, engaging one group after another. Sherman decided he had a similar duty. He dispatched Ellsworth to talk to the small state delegates, while he approached Pinckney.
“Good afternoon, Charles. Thank you for recommending a committee.”
“Mr. Sherman, the maestro himself.”
“I’m merely a simple delegate from Connecticut.”
“And I’m courteous and reverential.”
“Charles, you can be difficult at times, but you’re always engaging. By the way, Rutledge was a good choice for the committee.”
“John’s my relative,” Pinckney said with a dismissive air. “What else have you adults cooked up?”
Tempest at Dawn Page 28
