Tempest at Dawn (67 page)

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.”

“
That must have been expensive.”

“
Speed is of the essence now, my boy. We
mustn’t give our enemies the time to marshal resources.”

It had taken five years to ratify the Articles, and
if the Constitution took that long, it could prove disastrous.
Madison felt drained, but he had to find strength to bring his
dream to fruition.

“
How can I help?”

“
Talk to Sherman. We need the small states to
ratify immediately.”

“
Why does everyone think I have a relationship
with Sherman?”

“
The two of you got us to this point. Work
with him to finish the job.”

Madison nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

Morris put a hand on his shoulder. “Jemmy, when
you’re at your best, you inspire all those about you.”

Madison flushed. “Thank you. I’m always concerned I
may be deficient in the hard political skills.”

“
Many possess hard political skills;
inspiration is rare.” Morris patted Madison’s shoulder. “You
possess a unique talent.”

They moved outside and clambered aboard the coach
positioned at the front door. As they settled in, King said. “Our
gambit with Randolph didn’t work.”

“
What do you suggest now?” Hamilton
asked.

“
Let him go.” Madison placed his valise
between his feet. “He said an attempt alone is insufficient because
no one will know he wanted additional scrutiny of the
plan.”

Hamilton harrumphed. “An entire army couldn’t
provide enough cover for that insipid poltroon.”

The carriage gently rocked as the driver climbed
into his seat. Madison rested his elbow out the carriage window and
reclined against the upholstered seat back. “Alex, we must push for
a quick ratification.”

“
I have plans.”

“
What?”

“
A series of papers.
The Independent
Journal
has agreed to publish them.”

“
Who will write them?”

“
Not settled yet, but New Yorkers. Jay agreed,
but Morris declined.”

“
Morris lives in Pennsylvania.”

“
He left New York when the Clinton clique
drove him out of Congress, but he still has his Morrisiania estate
in Westchester.”

“
Too bad. We’ve seen the proof of his
pen.”

“
He still carries scars from New York
politics.”

“
Let me know if you can use my assistance.”
Madison felt the carriage jerk forward and realized he was looking
forward to a quick meal and bed. Turning to Hamilton, he asked,
“Alex, do you have a plan for these papers?”

“
Yes. I shall defend every
sentence.”

Chapter 39

“
Thank you for joining me for
breakfast.”

“
My pleasure.” Sherman took a seat opposite
Madison in the Indian Queen dining room. “I look forward to seeing
your committee’s work.”

“
I think you’ll be pleased. Gouverneur did a
masterful job.”

“
I’m sure you contributed as well.” Sherman
spread a linen napkin across his lap and realized that the walk
from his boardinghouse had made him hungry. “I hear the ham comes
from Virginia.”

“
A small contribution from my humble
state.”

“
An interesting adjective for
Virginia.”

“
People misjudge us.”

“
As they do my stiff Yankee accent. But I
assume this meeting is about our states working together on some
agenda.”

“
Ratification.”

A nattily dressed servant interrupted Sherman’s
response. After they had placed their order, Sherman started to
speak, but the rich aroma of roasted coffee caught his attention. A
second servant appeared at his elbow to expertly pour steaming
coffee from a burnished silver urn. After an exploratory sip,
Sherman had to admit that there were things the Indian Queen did
better than Mrs. Marshall.

“
You were talking about ratification,” Sherman
said.

“
It must be fast. A few states must ratify
immediately.”

“
Small states?”

“
You have the Senate.”

“
And you have protection for
slavery.”

Madison winced. “The South won’t ratify easily. In
their eyes, they have more to lose.”

“
Georgia’ll be quick.”

“
Exactly. They’re small. If you use your
influence with the other small states, a momentum can be
established.”

Their meal arrived, which gave Sherman time to
think. He cut a piece of ham and savored the distinctive Virginia
cure. “The ham’s excellent. My compliments to your ‘humble’
state.”

“
Can you engineer a quick Connecticut
ratification?”

“
How quick will Virginia be?”

Madison looked frustrated with Sherman’s deflection.
“I’ll do what I can.”

“
Henry a thorn?”

Madison gave one of his little laughs. “A sword of
Damocles, I’m afraid.”

“
What’s in it for us?”

“
A competent government.”

“
A goal worth striving for.” Sherman finished
another mouthful of ham. “I’ll do my best.”

“
That should be sufficient. When you are at
your best, you always seem to get what you want.” Madison picked up
his fork and ate with relish.

“
Welcome back, William.”

“
This is historic,” Paterson said. “I intend
to be part of it.”

“
You’re aware of the latest developments?”
Sherman asked.

“
I met with my delegation last evening. The
presidential powers are a bit worrisome, but I won’t quibble.”
Paterson looked at the delegates gathered in the hall outside the
Council Chamber. “People look serious.”

Sherman thought even Paterson appeared somber. “This
business carries enormous risk for the country—and our families.”
Sherman led Paterson to a corner of the hall. “What do you hear
from New York?”

“
The battlements are going up.”

“
Little Mars has been planning a campaign.
He’s been returning to New York to cajole or buy
allies.”

“
New Jersey will ratify easily.”

“
Good. It helps New York and Virginia if
several states ratify quickly.”

“
Small states.” Paterson seemed reflective.
“In May, the big states championed an energetic central government,
but after your Senate victory, support for this new government
shifted to the small states.”

“
This has always been about power.”

“
Power for Virginians. New Jersey just wanted
to protect herself from their ambitions.”

“
Put it away, William. It’s a good
plan.”

Paterson looked reluctant to forego the anger that
had given him energy, but he finally smiled. “Yes, it is.”

At the opening of the session, Gouverneur Morris
distributed printed copies of the Constitution from the Committee
of Style. Although they couldn’t leave the chamber, a recess was
called so delegates could read the polished document. Madison had
been right: the committee had done a masterful job. Sherman admired
the eloquence and logical presentation of their resolutions.

After an hour, the convention reconvened to consider
final modifications. Sherman hoped there would be few. A motion to
revert back to the two-thirds override of presidential vetoes
passed with little comment.

Gerry sputtered and spewed words like a teapot ready
to blow. “I move for a right for trial by juries.”

“
The plan should be prefaced with a complete
bill of rights,” Mason said with equal anger. “One can be prepared
in hours.”

Sherman didn’t believe the task could be completed
in hours and felt it was time to bring the proceedings to a close.
“I support securing the rights of the people, but the Declarations
of Rights in the states are still in force, and their authority
sufficient.”

Sherman was surprised when Mason responded with more
emotion than he thought the issue deserved. “The laws of the United
States are paramount to the states, including their Declarations of
Rights.”

Sherman didn’t believe words guaranteed people’s
rights. Untold hours in backrooms had taught him that unscrupulous
political operators searched until they found ways around
stipulations that supposedly obstructed them from achieving their
ambitions. Frequent elections and checks on the abuse of power
provided better protection. The system itself must guarantee
rights.

Without further discussion, a motion for a committee
to prepare a bill of rights failed unanimously. The end was too
tantalizingly near to closet another group of men to complete an
arduous task that could stretch into weeks.

“
You’re wrong.”

Sherman turned toward the State House door and
raised his hand to shield his eyes from the bright sun.
“About?”

“
The bill of rights.” Madison remained on the
State House stoop, which required Sherman to look up.

“
Laws govern nations, not
platitudes.”

“
A bill of rights has the force of
law.”

Sherman tried to keep exasperation from his voice.
“I’ve been through the process numerous times. Nothing excites
debate more than an attempt to build a far-reaching list of rights.
The end result is too general for practical use.”

“
A bill of rights can be precise.”

Sherman grew annoyed. He paused to figure out why he
felt so irritated by Madison’s comments. Sherman sloughed off
affronts from fools, knaves, and the ignorant, but he took to heart
the critiques of people he respected. “James, the process to
achieve precision in a bill of rights must go through a messy
course before the list can be whittled down to the salient themes.
We don’t have the time. The country disintegrates before our
eyes.”

“
We can start with the state
bills.”

“
We don’t have time.”

Madison looked worried. “Roger, you’re making a rare
mistake.”

“
Perhaps, but it’s one I cannot be dissuaded
from.” With that, he lowered his hand, turned away from the
elevated Madison, and walked in the direction of Mrs. Marshall’s
house.

On Thursday, they continued their review of the
final draft from the Committee of Style. Sherman was pleased that
only a few inconsequential changes were made, and they progressed
rapidly through the document. The Constitution was long, and as the
afternoon droned on, it became increasingly difficult for people to
remain in their seats. Everybody just wanted to be done. Some
leaned against the back wall with their arms folded across their
chests, while others whispered in small groups toward the sides of
the chamber. Many left for a spell. At times, Sherman could count
only a dozen delegates in their seats.

Washington, who had previously enforced strict
decorum, ignored the disorder and plowed ahead without recess.
Sherman shared the others’ impatience, but he felt the best way to
leave this chamber for good was to stay in his seat. Just when he
thought things couldn’t get any more discourteous, he heard a loud
thumping behind him. He did not need to turn around to know that it
was Gouverneur Morris showing his displeasure by pacing with
excessive weight thrown to his wooden leg.

This proved too much for the general’s newfound
tolerance. Bang! Bang! Bang! Sherman had never heard a gavel rapped
with such authority. “Order in the chamber. Delegates, take your
seats or remove yourselves. Immediately.” Morris made a
disrespectful wave of his hand and stomped noisily out the
door.

With some semblance of order restored, they slogged
through the remaining articles, making only a few alterations.
Sherman saw relief in Washington’s face as he struck his gavel and
barked, “Adjourned.”

“
Good afternoon, Mr. Hamilton.”

Sherman and Baldwin had ventured across the street
from the State House for lemonade.

“
I’d have thought you’d be pursuing stronger
refreshment,” Baldwin said, affecting a Southern accent.

“
I’m waiting for the general.”

Baldwin put his muscle-hardened arm around
Hamilton’s narrow shoulder. “Then you may buy us lemonade.”

“
Abe, do you ever buy your own drinks?”
Hamilton asked.

“
Never in your presence.”

“
New Yorkers don’t squander their money on
backcountry ne’er-do-wells.” Despite the disclaimer, Hamilton
slapped a heavy Pennsylvania coin onto the cross board. “By the
way, when did you lose your Yankee accent?”

“
When I ran for office in Georgia.” Baldwin
wore a huge grin.

The men wandered out of earshot and stood under a
tree. “I hear you intend to write a series of papers,” Sherman
said.

“
Yes, I’ll call it
The Federalist
.”