Tempest at Dawn (63 page)

He added in an unusually testy voice that the small
duty showed that revenue was the purpose, not discouragement of the
trade. When Sherman would not relent, the wording was changed to “a
tax or duty may be imposed on such importation not exceeding ten
dollars for each person.”

Madison gave a low whistle. He wanted to stop the
trade, but ten dollars per head would do the job almost as well. It
looked like an adequate compromise, especially if in later
deliberations they rolled the twenty years back to a reasonable
deadline.

“
How does it feel to be a thousand dollars
richer?”

“
Excuse me?”

Pinckney plopped his portfolio onto Madison’s table
and sat down. Madison was always the last to leave because he
normally had additional notes to scribe.

“
Mr. Madison, squire of Montpelier, you can’t
deny that your hundred slaves have appreciated with this new
tax.”

“
The market determines the price of slaves,
not taxes.”

“
How naïve.”

“
Mr. Pinckney, I don’t have time for your
insolence.”

“
How would you run your plantation without
slaves?”

“
With wage labor—indentured servants, if
necessary.”

“
You believe a seven-year slave
moral?”

“
He’s earning passage. A wage paid in
advance.”

“
Commercial passage costs more than a slave,
and slaves last a lifetime—and they replicate. With very little
urging on our part, I might add.”

“
If they’re such a bargain, ten dollars ought
not to harm such a lucrative enterprise.”

“
The enterprise that benefits from this nasty
tax is the sale of Virginia’s excess slaves to
neighbors.”

“
My slaves won’t leave Montpelier unless I
free them.”

Pinckney picked up his portfolio. “Then they’ll
surely be shackled for life.” Pinckney made an elaborate show of
tipping an imaginary hat. “Good day, Mr. Madison. I’m so proud of
you for using the personal pronoun. Often, one must measure
progress in tiny steps.”

Madison sat dead still until Pinckney had left the
chamber. After a few additional moments, he suddenly slammed the
flat of his hand against the table.

On Wednesday, Butler proposed harsh wording for the
fugitive slave clause. “If any person bound to service or labor in
any of the United States shall escape into another state, he or she
shall be delivered up to the person justly claiming their service
or labor.”

The convention agreed to
this wording to mollify states wounded by the ten dollar tax on
slaves.

The next issue was ratification. The committee
hadn’t specified the number of states required to put the new
constitution into force. Wilson proposed seven, a majority of
states. Sherman wanted ten. Mason suggested nine, and the assembly
quickly passed the motion. Madison grew excited. When they finished
the final touches, only nine states would be required to make this
new Constitution the supreme law of the nation.

Gouverneur Morris suggested that state legislatures
be instructed to call the conventions speedily. Morris said, “When
it first appears, people will approve of our work, but by degrees,
state officers will turn the popular current against the
Constitution.”

Martin weaved to the front of the chamber and leaned
against a table with the tips of his fingers. After steadying
himself, he said derisively. “Mr. Morris is correct. After a time,
the people will oppose it, but for different reasons. They’ll
reject this travesty not because of unscrupulous state officers,
but because they’ll come to know it. The people will ratify this
Constitution only if caught by surprise.”

Mason asked to postpone debate on ratification. “I’d
sooner chop off my right hand than put my signature to this
Constitution. I recommend that the whole subject be brought before
another general convention.”

“
I heartily agree!” Gouverneur Morris yelled.
“Yes, by all means, let’s convene once again in this dreadful room
and wile away our lives in fruitless adventure.”

Madison tried to figure out what point had turned
Randolph, Gerry, and Mason against the plan. They weren’t natural
allies. He decided each man acted from different motivations.

Mason still smarted from the decision on a
single executive. He had arrived in Philadelphia confident of an
executive position in the new government, but he had no illusions
that he could win against Washington
—
or outlive him.

Randolph was scared. He had lost touch with the mood
in Virginia and didn’t have an inkling of what his constituents
were thinking. The long convention had prevented him from putting
his finger to the wind, and the man loathed taking a blind stand.
Madison guessed he had already worked on public statements that
would give him room to either support or fight ratification,
depending on the reception back home.

Gerry was cantankerous, but it had to be more. He
would have preferred a government in which the elite ruled. The man
feared what he called “the leveling spirit.” Above all, this odd
scarecrow of a man always aligned himself with whichever side
seemed to be winning.

This realization brought Madison up short. Gerry had
decided that the new Constitution would fail. Why? Mason and
Randolph were one good reason. These two powerful Virginians could
tip the state against the plan, and they had Patrick Henry in the
wings, ready to mount the stage to slay the monstrous dragon from
the North. Virginia split the country in the middle and would make
it nearly impossible to form one nation if it stayed outside. The
second most critical state was New York, obviously problematic
under Clinton’s devious leadership.

Gerry’s cynical calculations caused Madison’s heart
to beat so hard he had to concentrate on long, slow breaths to
regain his composure. After he calmed down, Madison vowed to work
relentlessly for ratification in New York and Virginia. They had
come too far to lose it all in the closing stages.

When his mind returned to the proceedings, Sherman
moved to refer the remaining issues to another committee. Madison
gave a knowing glance at Morris when it was announced that they
would both be members. This time, the composition showed balance.
Although Sherman had Baldwin and Dickinson, Madison could count on
Morris and King. Unfortunately, this put the mercurial Pierce
Butler in a pivotal position. It might not be Morris’s hyperbolic
Armageddon, but the committee had all the hallmarks of a pitched
battle between evenly matched forces.

The Committee on Postponed Matters met in the
Council Chamber, the small room on the second floor of the State
House. Sherman had worked on the committees that wrote the
Declaration of Independence and the Articles of Confederation, but
this was the most important of his long career. A Committee of
Style would eventually craft the language of the Constitution, but
this one would finalize four months of work and make
recommendations on the few remaining issues.

When the convention had adjourned earlier that
afternoon, Sherman, Madison, Morris, King, Baldwin, and Butler had
climbed to the second floor for their first meeting. Everyone was
present except Dickinson, who felt ill. Their first order of
business had been to catalog the issues they needed to address in
the next few days.

After resolving one issue, Butler moved to adjourn.
Sherman scanned his two pages of terse notes to make sure there
were no crucial issues that needed immediate attention. He looked
up from his meager scratches to say, “I agree. Let’s adjourn. Nine
o’clock tomorrow morning?”

As Sherman packed his valise, he noticed that
Gouverneur Morris looked unhappy. He was contemplating whether to
probe into the cause of his dissatisfaction, when the door suddenly
burst open.

“
Gentlemen, I apologize,” Dickinson
said.

“
John, you look terrible,” Sherman said.
“We’ve just recessed. Get some rest.”

“
You’re done?”

“
For the day,” Butler answered.

“
Have you made any decisions?”

Butler didn’t stop packing his writing materials.
“Only on the executive,” he said offhandedly.

“
How did you decide?”

“
Selection by Congress,” Morris
snapped.

“
Damn it, no.”

Dickinson’s outburst startled Sherman. “John, we
merely endorsed the convention’s vote.”

Dickinson began pacing the room. “I know how the
convention voted.”

“
Then you know it is not within our purview to
decide differently,” Butler said with an edge of irritation. “We’re
supposed to resolve postponed matters.”

Dickinson pleaded. “We cannot give the president
enough power unless he’s independent of the legislature.”

“
Hear! Hear!” Morris said. “Finally, someone
talks sense.”

Butler shook his head as he prepared to leave. “I
refuse to open the issue again.”

“
Do you have a suggestion?” Madison asked
Dickinson.

“
No!” Butler shouted. “Leave it
be.”

“
Just a minute,” Morris said. “It’s a simple
question.”

Dickinson quit pacing and looked at Madison.
“Electors chosen by the state legislatures.”

“
Not that tired ol’ horse.” Butler started for
the door. “I’m leaving.”

Morris, who had stayed seated, leaped up. “Pierce,
please, give it a moment.”

“
A moment? Good God, man, we’ve been over this
matter innumerable times.” He turned to Dickinson. “Do you have
anything new?”

Dickinson started to say something, stopped, and
then fixed Butler with a firm look. After a moment, he said,
“Yes.”

Sherman knew his friend was lying.

“
I want to hear,” Madison said
eagerly.

Morris took his seat. “Yes, everybody sit back
down.”

Butler whirled on Morris. “We’ve already
adjourned.”

“
We can reconvene,” Morris insisted. “Shall we
vote?”

“
Hell, the president might be the only thing
my people back home care about,” Baldwin said. “Let’s hear John
out.”

Butler didn’t say another word, but he plopped his
portfolio on the table with a loud slap to show his irritation.

King looked skeptical, but he sat back down. “What’s
new about electors?”

“
People must trust the president,” Dickinson
said.

Sherman wanted to help, but he disagreed. “People
trust the legislature.”

“
They trust their representative, not the
body,” Dickinson said. “Only the president can represent the nation
as a whole.”

“
So let the people elect,” Madison
said.

“
If I may,” Dickinson said. “We have three
choices that have been bandied about. Election by—“

“
Bandied? Where have you been man?” Butler
remained angry. “They’ve been argued to the point of
nausea.”

“
Let him finish, please,” Sherman interjected
mildly.

“
Yes, I want to hear,” Morris
insisted.

Dickinson took a deep breath. “The three include
election by the people, election by Congress, and election by the
state legislatures. The delegates split numerous times on these
three choices. We need another option.”

“
We don’t have the authority!” Butler
screamed.

“
Hell, why should that stop us,” Baldwin said.
“Everything we’ve done has been outside of our
sanction.”

“
If I may,” Madison said in his soft voice.
“We’re charged with resolving postponed matters, but it’s within
our purview to recommend further changes for symmetry.”

“
You just want a popular election,” Butler
said.

“
Let’s hear John out.” Baldwin and Morris had
spoke in a single voice.

Butler made a show of throwing his arms open in
surrender. Everyone turned to Dickinson, who took another deep
breath before saying, “We let the state legislatures decide how
electors are chosen.”

Madison looked intrigued. “You mean they can
authorize popular election.”

“
Or not,” Dickinson answered.

Everyone sat quietly for a moment.

“
It might work,” Morris said.

Dickinson started speaking rapidly. “This’ll give
the executive independence, so we can grant him additional powers.
We can simplify impeachment, the presidential term, and
reeligibility. We can eliminate cabals by requiring the electors to
vote in their own state on the same date. The extent of the country
will make collusion impossible.”

Madison cleared his throat. “I can support this.
Even if only a few states allow popular choice, the people will
apply pressure to the other states.”

Sherman turned to Morris. “Gouverneur?”

“
Not perfect, but better than
Congress.”

“
Pierce?”

Butler hesitated, so Baldwin interrupted, “My
constituents will reject a powerful executive chosen by the ruling
class. We must emaciate him or give the people voice.”

“
This doesn’t exactly give them a voice,”
Butler said.

“
Give Georgia the choice, and my people will
make sure that they’re heard.”

Sherman gave Butler a hard look. Butler looked down
at his closed portfolio and gave it a dismissive spin. “I can live
with this—if the convention can.”