Tempest at Dawn (48 page)

A quick exodus for the door signaled that
the large states had arranged their meeting place. Sherman looked
over the heads of his contingent and said, “The large states will
meet at the Indian Queen. We’ll go to the City Tavern.”

“
When?”

“
Now.” Sherman broke through the
circle and walked to the exit. He didn’t look to see if his troupe
followed.

Madison alone remained seated. He shook his head,
and the word
pandemonium
sprang to mind. The big state
delegations had met yesterday, to no avail, and then quickly broke
into tribes of angry men. They had decided to try again in the
State House chamber prior to today’s session, but heated exchanges
had accomplished nothing. Now the delegates stood in different
parts of the room quarreling, their arms flailing, looks stern,
voices a touch too loud. Madison despaired. The convention would
either dissolve or recommend a fatally flawed system. Which would
it be?

“
Gentlemen, please! Gather round!”
Gouverneur Morris boomed over the noise. “This bickering resolves
nothing. We must agree on a course of action.”

Madison stood to reinforce Morris’s plea.
Gradually, the delegates gathered in a tight circle.

“
To what use?” Wilson
demanded.

“
We’ll accomplish nothing in
splintered groups,” Morris said. “Capitulate to their extortion or
unite on our own: that’s the decision before us.”

“
We discarded uniting on our own last
night,” Hamilton said in exasperation.

“
Why weren’t you here for yesterday’s
vote?” Wilson demanded.

“
Not important,” Hamilton
said.

“
The hell it isn’t!” Wilson
barked.

“
Clinton pulled Yates and Lansing back
to New York. I don’t have the authority to cast the New York vote
by myself,” Hamilton said. “Can we proceed to something
relevant?”

“
I don’t agree that we discarded any
options last night,” Randolph put in.

“
Strong political forces won’t abide a
partial union,” Hamilton said.

“
Where’s Washington?” Mason
demanded.

“
He doesn’t share our uncertainty,”
Hamilton answered.

“
Then he should elucidate his
certainty for us,” Mason said with uncharacteristic
anger.

“
One man cannot dictate the design of
our government,” Wilson said

“
The rules allow reconsideration,”
Madison interjected. “Perhaps we should move forward until a more
opportune time.”

“
Surrender?”

“
Withdraw—for the moment,” Madison
suggested.

“
We’re approaching this backwards,”
Gouverneur Morris said. “We’re defining the structure and then the
powers. We should define the powers and then design a system to
administer those powers.” Thumping around on his wooden leg, he
added in disgust, “After yesterday’s vote, bias will infect
questions concerning the powers of the three branches.”

“
We can’t start over,” Wilson
said.

“
We can,” Randolph cried. “Let’s quit
this convention.”

“
And when will we get together again.
Next summer?” Madison asked. “We must act now.”

Some delegates had drifted into chairs,
while others remained standing. Madison didn’t like the mood. The
delegates wavered between fatalism and belligerence. Even Mason had
abandoned reason. Madison noticed Sherman and Dickinson wander into
the chamber and take a seat near the back. Damn. They should have
met in a private room.

“
If you think we can alter the plan
later you’re mistaken.” Mason seemed oblivious to their new
visitors. “The little states will never relent. Ever!”

Wilson looked as if he had come to some
internal reconciliation. “Perhaps state equality in only one house
isn’t so bad.”

“
I can’t believe my ears!” Randolph
screamed. “What have we been fighting for?”

“
A republic.” Wilson’s voice carried a
note of hopefulness. “Perhaps we’ve been too focused on past
mistakes.”

A sudden stillness gripped the men. A few
shuffled in indecision, while others gradually rose to their
feet.

“
What are we going to do?” Mason asked
quietly.

After another long silence, Madison said,
“Let’s see where the day takes us.”

No one offered another option, so the caucus
decided to take a short break prior to the start of the regular
session. Madison left immediately to beat the others to the privy.
He wanted to spend any spare time making notes, not standing in
line. As he passed Sherman and Dickinson, heads bent together in
muted whispers, he knew that they had overheard nothing that would
give them pause. Madison reached the privy first and quickly
unbuttoned his trousers. As he started to urinate, he heard the
door open behind him.

“
We must defrock the
Senate.”

Without turning, Madison said, “You think we
can push forward?”

Wilson positioned himself at the station
next to Madison. “I saw you bolt and realized you had the right
priority.” He sighed with relief. “Too much tea this morning.”

“
The Senate?”

“
Let’s move to fresh air.”

Madison opened the door and stepped into a
crowd of about twenty delegates. The eager shuffled in line, while
the long-suffering hovered in drifting conversation and tobacco
smoke.

“
Let’s wander into the yard,” Wilson
suggested.

After they had walked a few paces, Madison
said, “You seem calmer.”

“
Resigned.”

“
You believe we can still devise a
good system?” Madison asked.

“
Adequate.”

“
How?”

“
We must shift power from the
legislature to the executive and judiciary.”

“
A stronger executive scares
people.”

“
Legislative tyranny inflicts the same
pain as a despot.”

Madison feared an overreaction would tilt
unwisely in favor of the executive. “The legislature must hold
dominion over lawmaking.”

“
Adjustments can be made.”

“
Where?” Madison asked.

“
Appointments, revisionary power,
selection of the executive. Other nuances will surface.”

“
You no longer support the Virginia
Plan?”

“
The Virginia Plan has been violated.
You can’t restore a maidenhead.”

“
An errant loss of virginity doesn’t
compel licentious behavior.”

Wilson gave Madison a condescending look
over the top of his glasses. “A path once chosen leads in a single
direction.”

Madison glanced toward the State House.
“Everyone has reentered. We need to go.”

“
Very well. But think. It’s your
strongest skill.”

“
Let’s see where the day takes
us.”

Madison opened the regular session with a
series of arguments in support of a veto over state laws. He
stopped his customary pacing to conclude, “Gentlemen, the power to
veto improper state laws is the mildest way to preserve
harmony.”

After some additional discussion, Madison
was disappointed to see that the power to revise state laws failed
three to seven. Martin then magnanimously offered a sound
alternative. “Legislative acts of the United States shall be the
supreme law and the several states shall be bound by these laws.”
Madison was pleased to see this alternative agreed to with no
objection. It didn’t give a clear veto of state laws, but it
allowed the national legislature to override state laws. With the
legislative powers issue resolved, the debate shifted to the method
of electing the executive.

Gouverneur Morris remained edgy. “I’m
against an executive chosen by the national legislature. If the
legislature can appoint and impeach him, he’ll be their lackey.
Election by the legislature can only result in intrigue similar to
the election of a pope by a conclave of cardinals. I move to strike
out ‘national legislature’ and insert ‘citizens of the United
States.’”

Mason continued to argue for the national
legislature to pick the executive. Madison put down his quill.
Mason plied the waters he knew, oblivious to the fact that the rest
of the fleet had changed course. Madison believed Mason had not yet
grasped the irreversibility of Senate suffrage. Beyond being a
sound republican principle, election of the executive by the people
truncated Senate power.

“
Gentlemen,” Madison said, “it’s
essential that legislative, executive, and judicial powers remain
separate and independent. Judges are not appointed by the
legislature because they might pander to the legislature, whose
laws they interpret. Likewise, if the legislature appoints the
executive, it infringes on the execution of laws.”

Madison was disappointed to see election by
the people overwhelmingly defeated by nine to one. Martin then
proposed that electors, appointed by state legislatures, should
choose the executive. Madison appreciated Martin’s newfound
pliancy, but that motion failed as well. Another vote reconfirmed
the Virginia Plan’s proposal that the executive should “be chosen
by the national legislature.”

Sherman surprised Madison by proposing to
strike the clause that prohibited the executive from a second term.
Madison was wary of Sherman and felt uncomfortable when he made
unexpected moves. Sherman was like a crafty chess master who
inexplicably moved a peripheral pawn. The wise opponent paused
until he figured out the endgame.

Gouverneur Morris charged ahead, undeterred
by this left-handed move. “I agree. An executive who can’t seek
office again will make hay while the sun shines.”

Sherman’s motion passed, and the delegates
called it a day.

He had chosen to take a walk instead of
immediately returning to the Indian Queen. Madison examined his
feelings. Wilson told him to think, but his emotions were what
puzzled him. He felt devastated that Sherman had won equality in
the Senate, but the new sense of progress elated him. Perhaps he
had been too strident. Wilson had a valid point, if not taken to an
extreme. Something might still be made of this hodgepodge if powers
were shifted to the executive and judiciary. Fear of a monarch had
restricted using the executive to hold the legislature in check,
but perhaps a settled structure permitted a fresh look at balancing
power between the branches. He had to examine everything anew.
Securing the popular election of the executive was a prerequisite.
He decided to fight for this deviation from the Virginia Plan.

Madison considered Sherman’s strategy. The man
thought several steps ahead and apparently had figured out that the
opposition would strive to shift power to the executive from the
legislature. So he pushed for multiple terms. Sherman intended to
use fear of a monarch as a defense. An executive with too much
power could ensure his reelection by the ruthless use of favors and
patronage.

Looking ahead, Madison saw a noisy
crowd and an image that tested his sense of reality. A two-story
building appeared to be casually strolling down the street. He
quickened his pace to investigate the aberration. He discovered
that a house undeniably traveled down the center of the city
street, but ten strapping horses dragged the uprooted structure.
The crowd of spectators had hidden a crude frame with huge wooden
wheels that freed the house from its normally moored state. Somehow
the house had been hoisted onto this contraption, and the horses,
escorted by six whip-wielding men, were rolling the house to a new
lot, where it presumably would behave itself and stay
put.

Madison spotted Pinckney and sidled over to him.
“Good afternoon, Charles.”

“
A good afternoon would be ten degrees
cooler.”

“
The heat seems
relentless.”

“
Like our bickering.”

“
Have you ever seen anything like
this?”

“
I never imagined anyone would be
stupid enough to move a house.”

“
Damn clever, I think.”

“
Clever? All this trouble to save a clapboard
eyesore.”

“
It still has utility.”

“
So do the Articles. Yet you don’t
hesitate to tear them down to build afresh.”

“
This is a solid house, not a
cobbled expedient. It can still provide service.”

“
For someone beyond Seventh
Street, I would hazard.”

“
Don’t they deserve a place to
live?”

Pinckney expression showed
disdain. “You propose that
they
should elect our chief executive?”

“
I do.”

“
Foolish.” Pinckney looked at
Madison, “Tell me, where do your loyalties lie?”

“
I beg pardon.”

“
To the big states or to the slaveholding
states?”

“
To a republican system.”

“
You’re evading the question.”

“
I don’t understand the question.”

“
James, you lost the big state
battle. It’s time to show your loyalty to the South, your home—and
your way of life.”

“
You want me to defend slavery?”