Tempest at Dawn (19 page)

“
You sound alarmist,” Read
said.

“
That’s my intent. Think a minute.
Congress is enfeebled by lack of funds and must depend on the
generosity of the states.” Sherman paused. “Gentlemen, money’s the
crux of today’s vote.”

Read shook his head. “I don’t see the
connection.”

“
A supreme national government can tax
our citizens directly—without our permission and without
consideration of our needs. Then we’ll be the enfeebled party,
begging the supreme national government to be generous.” Sherman
leaned toward Read. “George, how does this differ from being under
the thumb of an English monarch?”

Read didn’t answer.

“
Are we doomed?” Paterson
asked.

“
We’re weakened, not doomed. Form
still counts. Our states can thrive if they retain power in the new
system.”

Sherman bent forward and folded his hands in
front of him. “Gentlemen, we’re fighting for the survival of our
states.”

Ellsworth pulled his jeweled snuffbox from
his pocket. With a fastidious motion, he extracted a pinch and
sniffed it with an abrupt head bob. Then, pulling out a bandana, he
carefully wiped his nose. Completing the little ceremony, he looked
at his mentor.

“
Roger, I beg to differ. We are
fighting for the survival of our nation.”

Chapter 12

Thursday, May 31, 1787

“
Charles, why?”

“
Why what?”

“
Don’t act innocent. Why’d you
challenge Randolph so aggressively?”

“
Was I aggressive?”

“
You know you were.”

Pinckney shrugged. “I tire of the milksop.
The real question is, why did you put him in front of the
chamber?”

“
He’s the governor of Virginia,”
Madison answered, exasperated.

“
I was unaware that Virginia was in
such a destitute condition.”

Madison had been talking to delegates on the
sidewalk outside the State House when he spotted Pinckney.
“Charles, are you cantankerous by nature or spite?”

“
Oh, I should think by
nature.”

Madison sighed. “What mischief have you
planned for today?”

“
Mr. Madison, nature’s children need
not plan. Air and mischief arrive in equal quantities. It’s only a
matter of plucking the right morsel.”

“
Damn it, Charles, you must not blaze
your own path!”

“
Mr. Madison! You startle me. You
resort to damnation instead of logic? Please, sir, remember your
reputation for control.”

Madison blurted, “Gen. Washington was highly
displeased with your behavior yesterday.”

Pinckney visibly flinched. “So, now we move
to intimidation.”

“
Charles, as a friend, I’m merely
passing on a caution.”

Pinckney straightened himself. “Very well. I
shall make the greatest effort to hold my tongue. I believed I was
advancing our cause by pushing the point. Please convey my
apologies to the general.”

“
Will you apologize to Governor
Randolph?”

“
Now you push the point too
far.”

Pinckney whirled and entered the State
House. Madison watched in befuddlement. He had finally quieted
Pinckney’s tart tongue, but the man remained a cipher. What was his
purpose yesterday?

Madison heard a dull, hard noise reverberate behind
him. Clomp, pause, clomp. He turned to see Gouverneur Morris
wearing a welcoming grin as he approached the State House.

“
Jemmy, my good man, how are you this
fine morning?”

“
Anxious. And yourself?”

“
Ready to take on the world, or at
least our small corner.”

“
Let’s hope the world is ready to
engage, not postpone.”

Morris gave a laugh that jostled his paunch.
“Dear Jemmy, relax. Surely, you didn’t expect fair weather the
entire voyage?”

“
A minor squall shouldn’t have altered
our course. We should’ve gone forward with the vote. Only Delaware
objected.”

“
Others remained silent because
Delaware did their work.” Then with a more earnest voice, he added,
“Listen, we can pass the resolutions any time we choose, but it
would be a mistake to ram our plan down their throats.”

“
Majorities drive
conventions.”

“
These are proud men. They need to be
given voice.”

“
Voice yes, debate certainly, but
threats and extortion?”

“
They played their only card.” Then
with a shrug, “You can’t blame them.”

Madison started to object, but Morris
interrupted. “Tell me, how’s Pinckney’s mood?”

“
Contrite. But I fear it’s only
temporary.”

“
No doubt. You can’t train a cat, but
they do keep the mice at bay.”

“
I fear Pinckney hunts larger game.
Randolph’s livid.”

“
He’s only angry because the volley
came from his own side.”

“
Any suggestions?”

“
Randolph doesn’t know how to tack; he
follows the wind. The rest of us must tend the sails. By the way,
Washington wishes to speak to you during a break.”

“
Do you know the subject?”

“
Heavens no. The good general forgot
to confide in me.”

Madison suppressed a twinge of anxiety. “You
did a fine job yesterday,” he said. “A bit blunt, but it moved us
forward.”

“
Pusillanimous debate sours my
stomach. What say, shall we enter the pit?”

“
Yes, let’s see if Pinckney can keep
his claws retracted.”

Before Madison’s ink dried, the motion that the
legislature should consist of two branches had passed. He quickly
scratched out the delegates’ comments, using abbreviations and
marks. He suddenly realized that he couldn’t keep up. First,
someone spoke from over here; then, without pause, someone new
started speaking from another area. The exchanges bounced around
the room as swiftly as a farmer switched teats on an udder. He
decided to capture the proceedings in a quick scribble and rewrite
the notes each evening while the events remained fresh.

Sherman had the floor, and the issue was the
election of the first branch. “Gentlemen, I strongly urge the
election of the national legislature by the state legislatures.
Only in this manner will capable and experienced men be chosen. The
people should have little to do with government. They are
constantly misled.”

Sherman stood perfectly straight, left hand balled
in a fist, his right hand clutching the wrist of the left. On the
rare occasion when his hands moved, the motion was as rigid as
starched linen.

Madison appraised his speech as artifice.
Connecticut possessed a strong democratic tradition and, among all
the states, enjoyed the most republican form of government.
Sherman’s real objective was to ensure that the states held as much
power as possible under the new government.

Elbridge Gerry gained the floor. Although he was
from Massachusetts, a member of the large state alliance, Gerry
hated the idea of a strong central government. Madison gave thanks
that he spoke poorly and digressed into ill-mannered diatribes.
Thin-faced, with a sharp, beaklike nose, Gerry always wore a
bemused, superior expression that revealed an elitist nature. A
nervous head tic exaggerated his birdlike appearance, and he had an
odd habit of speaking in bursts, punctuated by unintelligible
stammers. Madison didn’t worry about Gerry because loyal
Massachusetts delegates outnumbered him.

Gerry stuttered a moment and then blurted,
“Gentlemen, I heartily agree with our esteemed colleague from
Connecticut. The evils we experience flow from an excess of
democracy. The masses cannot recognize a good government when it is
placed in front of them.”

Madison almost chuckled. He wondered if Sherman felt
embarrassed to be linked with Gerry’s demagoguery.

Gerry went on to vilify the infamous Shays. Most
people condemned Shays’s farmer revolt, but Madison cherished the
Massachusetts insurrection. Without it—and the alarm it raised
throughout the nation—these delegates would be snug in their own
beds.

Gerry surprised Madison by abruptly shifting his
harangue to a personal peeve. “It seems a democratic maxim to
starve public servants. The people of Massachusetts always clamor
to reduce our salaries.” After another stammer, he threw his words
like grapeshot. “Honorable men should be properly rewarded for
their sacrifice and service. But when the people have voice, they
demand that we wallow in the same poverty as an indentured servant
tied to a miserly master.”

Gerry’s head bobbed uncontrollably. “Gentlemen,
although I remain sympathetic to the cause, I’ve learned by
experience the danger of the leveling spirit.”

As Madison wrote his notes, another part of his mind
marveled at the pettiness of some men.

Mason brought reason back to the discussion. “Fellow
delegates, we’re obligated to protect the rights of every class of
citizen. The first branch of the legislature is the repository of
our democratic principles. It’s true that we have experienced
excesses of democracy, but we shouldn’t run in the opposite
direction. We must design a system that provides for the rights of
the lowest, as well as the highest, order of citizens. I urge the
election of the first branch directly by the people.”

Fervent applause sprinkled the chamber, while others
sat with folded hands. The revolutionary spirit waned in many.

Madison was grateful to see James Wilson, from
Pennsylvania, point the argument directly at Sherman’s undeclared
intent. “Gentlemen, we must eliminate interference by state
governments. Opposition to national measures comes from the
officers of the states, not from the people.”

Wilson looked like an owl, bespectacled and always
wearing a freshly powdered wig. Many people saw him as pompous, but
Madison knew him to be a fervent supporter of a strong national
government controlled by the people.

Wilson continued in a condescending manner that gave
the impression of a schoolmaster lecturing dull students. “I wish
to raise federal authority to a considerable level and, for that
reason, it must have popular support. The first branch of the
legislature should be elected directly by the people.”

Madison set his notes aside to take the floor. “The
great fabric of our national government must be stable and durable.
This requires a solid foundation of the people, not the shaky
pillars of state legislatures.” Madison looked directly at Sherman.
“I’m an advocate for refining appointments by successive filters,
but we can push this device too far. The expedient should be used
only in the appointment of the second branch of the legislature,
the executive, and the judiciary.”

As Madison took his seat, Gerry huffed and strutted
to the front of the chamber. Gerry’s stutters made it difficult for
Madison to record his speech. After an unintelligible mumble, he
said, “The common man sees no further than his next meal, and he
denies others a place at the table. I don’t support giving the
people a direct influence on the government.”

Gerry sat to astonished whispers. Madison tried to
check his prejudice against the merchant class, but Gerry proved
strikingly uncultured. The man had built a fortune in commerce, and
like many of the newly rich, he lacked basic manners. Madison felt
relieved when the assembly moved to a vote.

The popular election of the first branch won six to
two. The full Massachusetts delegation buried Gerry. As Madison
jotted down the results, two puzzles grabbed his attention: Why had
South Carolina voted no—and more perplexing—why had Connecticut
divided? Sherman and Ellsworth normally moved as one, and a divided
vote was a discarded vote. Madison sneaked a peek at the two men.
Sherman wore an impassive expression, but Ellsworth looked
disturbed.

The secretary read the fifth resolution of the
Virginia Plan. “The second branch of the national legislature ought
to be chosen by the first branch from a group that has been
nominated by the state legislatures.”

Madison was disturbed to see Butler argue against
the motion. “This resolution destroys the balance between the
states and the national government. The state legislatures must
elect the second branch.” Butler shifted his weight and looked
directly at the governor of Virginia. “I wish to pose a question to
Mr. Randolph.” After a brief pause for effect, Butler asked,
“Please, sir, may we hear your opinion about the number of members
in this second branch?”

Flabbergasted, Madison forgot to lift his pen and
stained his notes with an expansive blot of ink. Butler had picked
up Pinckney’s lance. Madison looked straight ahead—he had no desire
to see Pinckney’s smirk. The thrust aimed at the witless Randolph
was meant to penetrate all the way through to him.

Randolph reluctantly struggled to his feet. “When I
offered these propositions, I stated my ideas as far as the
proposal required.”

As Randolph tried to sit, Butler boomed, “Surely,
the esteemed governor of Virginia, the leader of his state’s
government, the protector of its sovereignty, has an opinion on the
subject?”

Randolph didn’t hide his anger. “The details aren’t
part of the plan. That’s for this assembly to decide.”

Randolph tried to regain his composure. Tentatively
reaching down, as if to shuffle papers again, he abruptly said,
“Uh, if I were to hazard an opinion, I think the number of the
second branch ought to be smaller than the first, and uh, yes,
small enough to protect against the turbulence of democracy. Some
check is needed, and a good senate seems a likely answer.”