“Where do we stand?” Washington asked briskly.
Washington, Madison, Hamilton, and Gouverneur Morris once again enjoyed Franklin’s hospitality under his mulberry tree. On Saturday, the convention had made numerous minor modifications but had eventually approved the report from the Committee on Postponed Matters. Madison had been elated when they appointed a Committee of Style to organize their resolutions into a final document.
After an uncomfortable silence, Hamilton attempted to answer the general’s question. “Sherman says the small states and the South will vote for the plan.”
“I assumed that.” Washington took a sip of Madeira.
Morris shifted in his seat. “Luther has agreed to fade away. He’ll depart before the signing ceremony.”
“That merely transfers his objections to the Maryland ratification,” Washington said. “Please stop avoiding the issue.”
Morris cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, sir, but we’ve made no progress with Randolph or Mason.”
Washington leaped to his feet. “Goddamn it, Randolph presented the plan. Can we not make him see reason?”
Madison cringed but dove into the maelstrom anyway. “I believe Patrick Henry put the fear of God in him.”
“Henry is not a god,” Washington barked with a vehemence that made everyone flinch.
After a still moment, Morris asked, “Have you informed him of that fact?”
Washington whirled on Morris and gave him a withering stare. After a moment, he took his seat and asked mildly, “What will induce them to support the plan?”
“Are you sure we should make further entreatments?” Hamilton asked.
“Loud dissent from the convention threatens ratification.” Washington slammed his fist against the arm of the chair. “Goddamn it, I want unanimity.”
Morris fidgeted and then said. “They insist on state conventions that can offer amendments for consideration at a second national convention.”
Madison almost bounded out of his seat. “No! Another convention will unravel our work instead of darning holes.”
Hamilton said evenly. “We must abandon these two. We still have a solid Virginia.”
“Virginia solid?” Washington said in a testy voice. “Without the governor?”
Madison knew why Washington was so angry. He understood Randolph’s tendency to vacillate but had insisted on having him present the plan in an attempt to buy his commitment. Nothing made the general more furious than one of his schemes going awry.
Franklin interceded with a question meant to return the general to a more reasoned discussion. “General, are you unconcerned with Mason?”
“Concerned, but fatalistic. The Grand Lord of Gunston Hall deigns to withhold his consent to any government that fails to make room for him.”
Madison thought Mason might have loftier objections, but then he remembered his disagreeable conversation with him nearly three months ago at the Robert Morris ball. He had been irascible ever since.
Washington stiffened into a posture reminiscent of a primeval oak that had weathered innumerable storms. He turned to Hamilton. “Alex, make a motion that gives the states authority to propose amendments.”
“No!” Madison could not help himself.
Franklin put a hand on Madison’s arm. “It won’t pass.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Madison said.
Washington’s angry face dissolved into something worse, a condescending expression that deeply wounded Madison. The same look his father used, it never failed to make him feel inadequate.
“Let me explain, if I must.” Washington leaned a tad closer. “We spoke of Henry and his exalted opinion of himself, but make no mistake: he’ll be a powerful figure in Virginia’s ratification. When facing a powerful foe, you first isolate him from his alliances.” Washington gave Madison a stern look. “This may not work, but the risk is minimal. We can tell Randolph we tried to meet his demands, but the convention thwarted our effort. It should give him the political cover he seeks.”
Washington settled back in his seat and took another sip of Madeira. “If he still refuses to acquiesce, then I shall bribe him with an important position in my administration. We must deny Henry the governor’s support.”
Madison felt chagrined. He knew Washington disliked explaining his connivances. He also understood that he had just witnessed politics played on a scale he would need to learn if he wanted to play a role beyond resident logician He tried to keep his face blank as he said, “I understand, sir.”
“Excellent. Now, Ben says that you made an astute observation about Massachusetts. I appreciate your bringing that to our attention.”
“Thank you, sir.” Having just received praise, Madison hated to bring up the next point. “Gerry wants an easier amendment process, but if we give it to him, I believe he’ll still refuse to sign.”
“Not worth the breath,” Washington said. “What does Gorham want?”
“Nothing,” Hamilton said. “Either he is a stalwart believer, or he does not grasp the power of his vote.”
“I always thought he was an agreeable sort,” Morris said.
Washington looked thoughtful. “Perhaps, but I’m not. If Nathaniel chooses to pass up this opportunity, we’ll grasp it.” Washington’s comment intrigued Madison, and he became riveted when Washington looked directly at him. “Sherman got his equal representation in the Senate; now we must throw some large state weight to the House.”
“How?” Hamilton looked puzzled.
“One representative for every thirty thousand people,” Madison answered.
“Exactly,” Washington said. Madison struggled to keep from beaming.
Morris twitched with excitement. “If we lower the benchmark from forty thousand, the populous states will have more votes.”
“I presume you want Gorham to make it a condition of his vote,” Hamilton said.
“Your assignment, Alex,” Washington said. “Massachusetts benefits, so it should be easy. But make sure he understands that this must appear to be an ultimatum of his own making.”
“Consider it done.”
Washington looked around. “Anything else?”
Franklin waved at Madison, Hamilton, and Gouverneur Morris. “We have three of the five members of the Committee of Style. Any instructions?”
“Yes.” Washington spoke earnestly. “Gentlemen, do a superb job.”
On Monday, Gerry wanted to reconsider the way the Constitution could be amended. As the clause now stood, two-thirds of the states could request a convention to consider amendments. After extensive debate, they decided a two-thirds vote by both houses of Congress could also call conventions. Wilson then moved to require a three-fourths majority of the states to ratify amendments.
Rutledge interrupted. “I refuse to agree to a power that might alter slavery.”
Damn slavery, Madison thought. Must it dictate every issue? His mood didn’t improve when the amendment process passed after they added a phrase that restricted slavery amendments until after 1808.
Hamilton asked for the floor. Madison knew what was coming and scooted his chair aside to get a view of at least a few delegates. As Hamilton walked to the front of the chamber, Madison marveled at how this small man, someone not much taller than himself, could fill a room with his presence.
“Gentlemen, we have nearly fulfilled our obligation to design a grand republic. It’s time to turn our attention to how our work is sanctioned. The plan must be sent to Congress for their approval and then communicated to the state legislatures for their approval and amendment.”
Randolph asked for the floor. “Last May, I presented a set of republican propositions, but we’ve departed from those sound propositions. State conventions should also be empowered to offer amendments at a second federal convention.”
King said, “Congress loathes taking sides in a heady dispute. We shouldn’t put our dear friends in such peril.”
After a few more hours of heated debate, Ma
son requested that the motion lie on the table for a day or two to see what steps might be taken to satisfy Randolph. Agreeing to table the motion, the convention adjourned.
Gouverneur Morris made a motion with his hand that Madison interrupted as a sign to gather around his table. By the time Madison had packed away his notes and writing material, Hamilton and King had already pulled chairs around the Pennsylvania table. As Madison took a seat, he noticed that other delegates lingered in small conversational groups, in no hurry to depart the chamber.
Morris looked around and said, “We need to set a meeting time and place. May I suggest my home in one hour? I’ve done a count. There are twenty-three articles we need to mesh into a coherent plan.”
“We must aim for more than coherency,” Madison said. “The plan must be eloquent.”
“Make a purse out of a sow’s ear?” Hamilton’s derisive tone grated on Madison.
“The plan holds together better than I would have expected,” Madison said. “Every article must be defended.”
“That’s the second time I’ve received such advice,” Hamilton said in a distracted manner.
“Who else?” Madison asked.
“Never mind,” Hamilton answered.
The resolutions before them were a far cry from the plan Madison had brought to Philadelphia, but they still overcame the deficiencies of the Articles of Confederation. Besides, there would never be another opportunity. They must all stand resolutely behind this plan or surrender to a rapid deterioration.
“I have an alternate proposal,” Morris said. “With your consent, I’ll organize the resolutions and work on some phrasing; then we can meet in the morning to edit my work.”
“Excellent,” King said. “When orderliness is the goal, one man’s point of view exceeds a committee. Tomorrow morning is soon enough.”
Madison felt disappointed that he hadn’t been selected for the task. After all, he had put together the original Virginia Plan. He kept quiet for one reason: he recognized that Morris had a facility with words far beyond his tortuous turn of phrase.
“Gentlemen, I must get to work. I’ll see you in the morning.”
After they stepped outside, Hamilton put his hand on Madison’s shoulder. “It was your friend Sherman that advised me to defend every word.”
“Roger’s not a friend.”
“Colleague then?”
“Still a generous description.”
“Our bickering resulted in a better plan. We owe a debt of gratitude to the orneriness of Mr. Sherman.”
Madison turned so that Hamilton’s arm fell away from his shoulder. “He’s made his contributions.”
“As have you, Jemmy. Your work has been invaluable. If this odd thing we created finds glory, future generations will revere you.”
“And if it fails?”
Hamilton looked sad. “Then you and this fair nation will be forgotten.”
“Your estimation?”
“I’m not content with every aspect of this plan, but it is a damn site better than the Articles.” Hamilton prideful face took on a determined look. “We must make it work.”
“Make it work?”
“It provides the scaffolding to build an empire.”
“I prefer republic.”
Hamilton smiled. “A republican empire then.”
Hamilton gave out a low whistle. “Gouverneur, you’ve outdone yourself.”
Madison had to agree. The twenty-three disjointed sections had been ordered and logically consolidated into seven articles. Awkward phrasing and stilted words had been replaced with sentences that were clear and easy to read. It was the preamble, however, that made the document appeal to patriotic urges.
They had gathered in Morris’s elegant parlor. After coffee and tea had been served, Morris handed each man a copy of his edited manuscript. Madison was startled. The cost of copies would not noticeably deplete his purse, but where had he found the time? He could tell by the poor quality that the documents had been made by applying ink to glass so that an image could be transferred to successive sheets of paper, but still the process took hours.
Madison let the manuscript fall to his lap. “Our ramblings look consistent and rational. You’ve done a masterful job.”
“Thank you for the compliments, but this is hardly a finished document.”
“Then may I make a suggestion?” King asked.
The men shifted in their seats to face King.
“The country is accustomed to the legislature wielding sole power. An energetic executive is an innovation that will frighten many. I suggest we reorder the articles so that we lead with the legislature.”
In the Morris draft, the first article defined executive powers. Madison immediately saw the advantage in changing the order. The balance of the powers would be more evident to people if they first saw that the legislature could hold the executive in check.
“Are you suggesting the executive article be third?” Morris asked.
Hamilton stiffened. “The executive is the most important. It cannot be relegated to the back.”
“I was thinking second,” King said.
Everyone waited, and then Morris said, “I think that improves the presentation.”
“Since each branch is equal, I have no objections,” Madison said.
Hamilton seemed tense. “It’ll make no difference.”
“I think it does,” Morris said. “The plan remains the same, but the people will feel reassured if we give the legislature prominence.”
“You delude yourself,” Hamilton said.
“The price is insignificant,” King interjected.
Hamilton shrugged. “Change the order. It won’t change the substance, nor resistance.”
“Shall we move on to phrasing?” Morris asked.
They started with the preamble. After an hour, they had made some minor refinements, and they all nodded when Morris read the final draft.
“We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”
The end result pleased Madison enormously. Morris had dropped the listing of the states to give the power directly to the people of the United States. They had picked their verbs with utmost care, using establish, insure, provide, promote, and secure to convey emphasis and priority. He didn’t believe even Tom Jefferson could have so succinctly articulated the source of authority and functions of government.
It took them the rest of the afternoon and the following day to go through the seven articles. When they finished on Wednesday afternoon, Morris introduced another political element. “We need to decide on how to address Congress. I suggest we draft a separate letter.”
“Congress has already been bought and paid for,” Hamilton said.
“Nothing can come unbound faster than a group of self-serving politicians,” Morris said.
“What are you suggesting?” King asked.
“Instructions to Congress on the measures to put this Constitution in place. No leeway. A letter would carry the authority of the entire convention.”
“And what authority would that be?” Hamilton asked.
Madison ignored Hamilton. “Why not include it in Article VII?”
“I believe it better done outside the formal document. Separate, it carries more weight than something embedded deep in a long document.”
“It will carry more arrogance,” Hamilton said.
“What can possibly be more arrogant than disbanding a duly established government and replacing it with one of our own design?” Morris gave Hamilton an uncharacteristically hard look. “We might as well go the next step and instruct Congress on how to implement it.”
Madison shook his head. “I’d still feel more comfortable adding the instructions to Article VII.”
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“We don’t need to burden future generations with the gritty details.” This indirect endorsement came from Hamilton.
“I thought you believed it arrogant,” Madison said.
“I do.” Hamilton smiled. “But humility is not one of my virtues.”
Madison looked around. The other men returned his look. Now it was Madison’s turn to shrug. “Let’s draft it.”
When they had finished, Madison knew that the other men had been right. The sequence of events to establish the government would occur only once, and they deserved the special attention bestowed by a separate document. The letter blandly stated that the Constitution was presented to Congress for them to forward to the states for ratification by conventions of the people. After the conventions, the states were to notify Congress of their assent or rejection. After senators and representatives were elected, the electors would meet on the same date in their respective states and forward their certified, signed, and sealed votes to the secretary of the new Congress. The Senate would open and count the votes.
The only sentence that bothered Madison was the last: “By the unanimous Order of the Convention.” Unanimity was not yet a given, and Congress might take umbrage at an order coming from a mutinous convention.
With the Constitution ready to present, Madison collapsed in exhaustion against the back of his chair. Despite his weariness, he felt exalted. Five months ago, he had embarked on the perilous course to overthrow a standing government without bloodshed. A truly historic moment was within grasp. They held before them a Constitution built clause by clause through debate and deliberation that were sometimes raucous, but many times thoughtful and principled. All that remained to seal its Lockean legitimacy was for the general populace to ratify their work.
As they were preparing to depart, Morris volunteered his coach to take them back to the Indian Queen. After Morris returned from giving instructions to a servant, Madison asked, “How did you get copies made so quickly?”
Morris looked pleased with the question. “When I left you gentlemen at the State House, I went to my printer and paid them to stay ready throughout the night.”
Tempest at Dawn Page 47
