Tempest at Dawn (56 page)

“
Talking isn’t my only
talent.”

“
Talking? You’re a terrible speaker.
All the wives ask me what you’re really like. They can’t understand
how such a cold, stiff man gets his way in politics.”

“
And what do you tell them about your
stiff man?”

Rebecca blushed. “Nothing.”

“
Mr. Madison, may I—”

“
Not now, perhaps later.” Madison did
not slow his pace or even give an acknowledging nod. He walked past
the clusters of delegates in idle conversation and marched directly
into the chamber. When he reached his table, he immediately
distributed his notes and writing materials, snapping his inkwell
on the baize-covered table with enough force to draw inquisitive
glances. Sitting down, he rifled his papers until he realized that
everything was already in order.

Several times, he had approached Randolph,
who had steadfastly insisted that the Committee of Detail could
handle their assignment without Madison’s assistance. The five
committeemen had locked themselves in the upstairs Council Room
during the workday and studiously avoided other delegates at night.
Why had they been so secretive?

Most of the delegates had left the
blistering city, either to visit home or to venture into the cooler
countryside. Madison had neither enough time to go home, nor the
inclination to face his father, so he had remained at the Indian
Queen to work on his notes.

He worried that Randolph lacked resolve and
would easily bend to the other committee members. His notes could
have been invaluable to the committee, but they never asked to see
them. Now, as the assembly reconvened after a ten-day recess,
Madison feared that the document they were about to distribute
would veer from the convention’s directives.

Everyone filed to their seats, and
Washington immediately awarded the floor to Rutledge so he could
present the committee report. While he made his preliminary
remarks, Gorham and Ellsworth walked around the chamber
distributing copies of a document. When Madison received his copy,
he flipped the pages like a raccoon sorting through trash. What he
saw confirmed his fears. They had remained faithful to the votes on
decided issues, but there were many other areas, some quite
extensive, where they had borrowed from other sources. Madison was
immediately struck by how little they had accomplished in two
months.

He picked up Rutledge’s words: “We the
people of the States of New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island,
Connecticut …”

The committee had gone to the expense of having
their report typeset and printed as a folio pamphlet. The first
page bore the imprint of Dunlap and Claypoole, one of the most
prestigious printing houses in Philadelphia. They had shown the
courtesy to restrict the printing to the right side of the page, so
delegates could make notes in a broad left margin. At least they
knew this wouldn’t be the final document.

Rutledge stopped reading to make a
parenthetical comment that caught Madison’s attention. “We
choose
Congress
as a name for
the national legislature to appeal to our present congressmen. If
the members believe the body is the same, they’ll assume they can
be easily elected to the new body.”

Madison had no qualms about their choice of
names for the various government departments, but he suspected that
they had spent too much time on such a small matter. The convention
had already informally adopted
Senate
for the upper house and the committee now
specified
House of Representatives
for the lower house and
Congress
for the combined bodies. The
Supreme Court
showed little
imagination, but the name fit the task. They avoided words that had
become sensitive during British rule and selected the
neutral
president
for the
executive. The controversial parts didn’t appear on the first page,
so Madison went back to reading. The biggest problems appeared to
be with the executive, this new president.

Rutledge took several hours to read the
report, seldom adding any explanation. Madison calmed down after
studying the document. The deviations arose from issues in which
the convention had never bought finality with a vote. Without
guidance, the committee had no choice but to invent solutions.
Madison believed that they should be able to quickly move through
the document and button up the remaining issues. He tossed the
folio onto the table and sighed. The committee had done a service
by exposing their omissions.

“
Did you have a pleasant visit home?” Madison
asked.

He had found Sherman in the yard, and both
men had started walking together. Strolling the tree-lined path,
Madison wondered how they could accomplish any proper work in a
room that felt like a blacksmith shed.

“
Excellent. Did you enjoy the
recess?”

“
Mine was quiet. I stayed in
Philadelphia to recuperate.”

“
How’s your health?”

“
Much improved. I caught up on my
sleep.”

Sherman looked over his shoulder. “The
general looks sunburned.”

“
I understand he traipsed around
Valley Forge and went trout fishing at Trenton. What’d you do in
New Haven?”

“
My wife and I hosted several large
family gatherings, I enjoyed my own church services, and I
performed some judicial duties.” Sherman gave a rare smile. “A
pleasant and gratifying life to which I’m anxious to
return.”

“
If I had gone home, my father would
have made me follow him around the plantation while he lectured
me.”

“
He appears to be a devoted
father.”

“
Appearances deceive.”

Madison felt uneasy because Sherman looked
as if he might probe, but he merely asked, “And your mother?”

“
Very supportive. I wish I could write
her about the proceedings. She’s taken to bed again, and it would
lift her spirits. Instead, I write about Philadelphia.” Madison
looked up into Sherman’s impassive face. “What’s New Haven
like?”

“
Peaceful—and pretty. Green
neighborhoods filled with friendly people. The college adds both a
scholarly and a rambunctious note.”

“
I’ll bet I’d like New Haven. I loved
Princeton.”

“
Then you must visit.”

“
I shall. Did you have any interesting
cases?”

“
Just tedious debt issues. I broke the
monotony by giving a rambling speech to dedicate a
bridge.”

“
You’ve never given a rambling speech
here.”

For some reason, this made Sherman laugh. “I
didn’t know what to say, so I stomped my foot and said, ‘This
bridge looks sturdy built.’” He laughed again. “Some were critical
of my brevity.”

“
That’s all you said?”

“
What more needed to be
said?”

Madison contemplated the strange man who
walked beside him with the gait of a plow horse. Despite his
physical awkwardness and poor speaking style, he projected
self-assurance and seemed comfortable with himself. Was the man
smart? Without a doubt, and he was savvy. Madison realized that
Sherman was not oblivious to his shortcomings. The evidence lay in
the way he used other people. There was a lesson here that he would
have to think about.

On Tuesday
they debated the committee report. Madison settled in for an easy
day, because the initial clauses held little potential for
conflict. The debate meandered, so Madison decided to ask why the
committee had fixed a date for Congress to meet. He suggested that
the Constitution should require only that Congress meet once a
year.

Gouverneur Morris interjected that they
shouldn’t be required to meet annually because there might not be
enough business for an annual session.

Ellsworth
, a
bit exasperated, explained.
“Until they meet, Congress
won’t know whether a session is required or not. Nor will they know
when to send their members.”

“
Gouverneur Morris is right,” King
argued. “Legislating too much is a vice. And the vast majority of
legislation belongs to the states.”

Sherman made a typically terse statement.
“I’m for fixing a date. The great extent of our affairs will supply
purpose enough.”

They voted to leave the date in December but
allowed Congress the authority to set a different date if it
chose.

The report recommended that persons
qualified to vote for state offices would be qualified to vote for
the House of Representatives. Gouverneur Morris spoke with a level
of emotion that surprised Madison. “The states should not establish
qualifications. We should set the standard, and we should limit the
vote to men of property.”

Wilson spoke with a note of condescension.
“Does Mr. Morris wish to tell a man he can vote for his state
representative, but he cannot vote for his national representative?
That makes no sense.”

Gouverneur Morris thumped his wood leg.
“Balderdash! I object to letting the states set the
qualifications.” Another thump. “It’s not proper.”

Ellsworth explained. “Eight or nine states
have already extended the right beyond freeholders, and the people
will never rally behind a constitution that disfranchises them.”
Ellsworth put his fingers in the waistband pocket where he kept his
snuffbox. “Every man who pays taxes owns the right to vote for the
man who spends his money.”

Morris was unconvinced. “May I remind the
delegates that children don’t vote? Neither can the ignorant and
dependent be trusted. The time is not distant when this country
will abound with men who receive their bread from employers. Will
such men guard liberty?” Morris sat back down but threw out one
final taunt. “As for merchants, if they want to vote, they can
acquire property.”

Madison caught Washington’s eye and signaled
that he wanted the floor. “In the future, a great majority of the
people will be without land and possibly without any form of
property. They will combine their interests and threaten property
rights. Despite these considerations, we must remain pragmatic. A
few states still require a freehold, but more have granted suffrage
to every man. Keep in mind, the people must ratify our work.”

When Madison took his seat, he saw a faint
nod from Gen. Washington. As he picked up his quill, he felt
chagrined to discover how much he craved approval, so he
immediately made himself busy to suppress the uncomfortable
emotion.

Franklin gathered himself up and spoke to
the assemblage like he was their kindly guardian. “Gentlemen, I’d
like to remind you that American seamen, who were carried in great
numbers to British prisons, refused to free themselves by serving
on the ships of our enemy. Contrast their patriotism with the
British seamen, who readily served on our ships. This difference
stems from our just treatment of commoners. We don’t have the right
to narrow suffrage, and such a restriction will create ill will
with many of the men in this chamber.”

Everyone knew that “many of the men”
included Benjamin Franklin. After this upbraiding by their most
senior delegate, the assembly dropped the matter and quietly
adjourned.

“
James, my good man, I’m glad I found
you.”

Before his jolly greeting, a thumping dowel
had signaled Morris’s approach. Madison held aloft a silver teapot.
“Gouverneur, may I offer you tea?”

Morris plopped into the opposite chair.
“That you may, my boy, that you may.”

Madison set the teapot on a silver platter
and signaled for another teacup. The Indian Queen, in patriotic
fervor, had sold all their European tea services and replaced them
with sets crafted by Paul Revere. He would never voice the opinion,
but Madison preferred the more elegant European designs to the
simple American tooling. When a maid delivered another teacup,
Madison covered the bottom with cream and added two teaspoons of
sugar before pouring hot tea to the brim. “You’re not going to
flail me about a property requirement, are you?”

“
Heavens, no.” Morris took a cautious
sip to test the temperature. “We have bigger game to
hunt.”

Madison laughed. Morris never took defeat to
heart; he just rotated the angle of attack or gracefully slid to a
whole new issue. The man could not be deflated. “And what new
conquest do you have in your sights?”

“
The slave trade,” Morris replied. “We
intend to kill it.”

Madison felt his good mood evaporate. “I
think most of us consider that issue settled. You might unravel
some painful negotiations.”

“
Better than unraveling our budding
empire. The South got the better of that deal, and we mean to
balance the scale.”

“
Who’s we?”

“
Massachusetts and
Pennsylvania.”

“
Sanctioned by?”

“
We don’t need permission.” Morris
waved his hand dismissively. “Where do you stand?”

“
I’ve placed that issue in the
completed pile. What do you mean, balance the scale?”

“
We must stop importing these poor
souls onto our shores.”

“
Make slave trade illegal?”

“
As in Virginia.”

The Deep South had threatened to abandon the
convention if there was any restriction on slave trade. Now Morris
threatened to stop a lucrative commercial enterprise. On the other
hand, he had promised Witherspoon to work toward prohibiting this
heinous practice. Madison set his teacup down. “I’ll not be in the
forefront, but if you create a breach, I will lend my influence,
for whatever it may be worth.”