Tempest at Dawn (68 page)

“
Federalist?” Baldwin sounded perplexed. “The
Articles are a federation of the states. It’s a stretch to use that
term with this Constitution.”

“
We need to mold public perception. We’ll
claim the name Federalist so we can call our opponents
Anti-Federalists. Hamilton smiled. “First to trough, first to
eat.”

“
You sly devil.” Baldwin saluted with his
lemonade. “No wonder you’re a banker.”

Hamilton shrugged. “It allows me to buy lemonade for
my Yankee friends.”

“
Whoa!” Baldwin feigned offense. “You can’t
buy my friendship with a mere glass of refreshment.”

As they laughed, Hamilton suddenly became serious.
“By the way, we’ve established the price for unanimity.”

“
What does Massachusetts want?”

“
It will become clear Monday.”

“
Why not until Monday?”

“
One of Gorham’s conditions,” Hamilton said.
“I just wanted to forewarn you.”

“
You forewarned me of nothing. Should I be
concerned?”

Hamilton shook his head. “No. Gorham’s reasonable.
He could have gotten more.” Hamilton handed his glass to Baldwin.
“The general has stepped from the State House. I’ll see you men
later.”

Sherman watched Hamilton’s back as he dodged the
carriages to cross the street. “That was ominous,” Sherman
said.

“
The man’s too clever by half,” Baldwin
said.

“
I don’t like surprises.”

“
What are you going to do?”

“
Nothing. It’s too late.”

When Randolph received the floor on Saturday, he
walked to the front of the chamber wearing a theatrical expression
of solemnity. “I feel great pain to differ from my fellow delegates
on the close of our great labors, but I make a final motion that
amendments to the plan can be offered by state conventions.”

An audible groan filled the chamber, but Randolph
pushed on. “Should this proposition lose, it will be impossible for
me to put my name to this instrument. I don’t know if I shall
oppose it afterwards, but I cannot deprive myself of the freedom to
do so.”

Mason seconded Randolph and gave his own speech.
Sherman had never seen Mason look so haughty or use a more
condescending tone. Both traits were personal attributes, but most
of the time he kept them in check. Sherman wondered if he was
seeing the true George Mason or an extremely frustrated
patriot.

When the votes were called on Randolph’s motion, all
the states sharply answered—no!

Sherman saw Mason accept defeat with a frown and his
arms folded tightly against his chest.

Elbridge Gerry felt obliged to state why he would
withhold his name from the Constitution. He accused the convention
of proposing a system that could make any law it chose by declaring
it “necessary and proper.”

When Gerry took his seat, Washington gave a gentle
rap with his gavel and said in a loud, clear voice, “On the
question to agree to the Constitution, as amended, will the states
please mark their votes.”

The assembly quieted in less than two minutes and
then faced the front of the chamber with an air of expectancy.
Washington, as dictated by tradition, called the roll of states
from north to south.

“
New Hampshire?”

“
New Hampshire votes aye.”

“
Massachusetts?”

Rufus King proudly said, “Massachusetts votes
aye.””

“
Connecticut?”

Roger Sherman stood, paused a heartbeat, and said,
“Aye.”

“
New Jersey?”

“
New Jersey votes aye.”

“
Pennsylvania?”

Benjamin Franklin struggled to his gout-ridden feet.
“Pennsylvania votes a hearty aye.”

Applause sprinkled the chamber as Franklin sat.
Sherman didn’t know if it was to honor a great man or the vote.

When the applause subsided, Washington called,
“Delaware?”

“
The great state of Delaware votes aye.” When
George Read sat down, the applause grew more pronounced.

“
Maryland?”

“
Aye.” The trend had now been set, and the
applause became steady.

“
Virginia?”

“
Virginia votes aye.” The applause
strengthened, and James Madison wore the smile of the truly
joyful.

“
North Carolina?”

“
Aye.”

Up to now, Sherman had been clapping perfunctorily,
but he caught the enthusiasm of the room and started to pound his
hands with rare delight.

“
South Carolina?”

Charles Pinckney rose and gave Gen. Washington an
aristocratic bow, flourishing his arm across his midsection and
dipping his right shoulder just a bit deeper than his left. “Sir,
the great and sovereign state of South Carolina votes aye.”

When the applause grew loud and sustained, Pinckney
turned toward the delegates and bowed as if they were honoring
him.

“
Georgia?”

Abraham Baldwin stood slowly, paused, bowed
graciously toward the general, turned, and then boomed in a heavy
Southern accent; “Gentlemen, it is my great honor to announce that
Georgia votes AYE!”

Sherman leaped to his feet banging his cupped hands
and yelling a Revolutionary cheer. He felt a slap on his back and
turned, expecting to see Gouverneur Morris, but it was a beaming
James Wilson. Sherman grabbed his hand, but they shook quickly so
they could resume clapping. Turning toward Ellsworth, he started to
reach out his hand but instead clasped him in a fraternal hug. When
he broke free, everywhere about him was pandemonium. Delegates
clapped, yelled, hugged, and some cried. Washington sat on his dais
with a smile and his hand purposely laid flat on the table away
from his gavel.

Sherman shouldered through the crowd, trying to get
to Madison. Backslapping, handshakes, and emotional embraces slowed
his progress toward the Virginia table. As he shuffled through the
jostling crowd, he noticed that three men remained seated in
steadfast defiance. He reached Madison to find Franklin enveloping
the little man in his beefy arms. When they broke, Sherman muscled
his way past a couple of well-wishers and caught the eye of the
little genius from Virginia. He took Madison’s delicate hand within
his own huge palm and covered the combined fist with his left
hand.

Holding Madison more with his eyes than with his
hands, Sherman said, “Congratulations, Mr. Madison, you shall have
your republic.”

Madison didn’t speak, but the mist in the corner of
his eye said everything. Just when the moment was about to get
awkward, Sherman heard the sharp rap of the gavel. “Gentlemen,
please take your seats.” Another firm, but benevolent, rap of the
gavel sent the men scurrying back to their tables.

Instead of the room becoming quiet, the men, back at
their tables, started congratulating their state colleagues. It
took several more respectful raps of the gavel to regain order.

Washington assumed a businesslike tone. “Fellow
delegates, it is my honor to announce that this Federal Convention,
by the unanimous consent of the states present, does commend this
Constitution to the people for ratification.”

The entire room, save three people, stood and
applauded. This time, instead of rambunctious exuberance, the
formal announcement elicited a respectful and firm ovation. As the
clapping subsided, Gerry marched proudly out of the chamber.
Sherman respected Randolph and Mason for remaining at the Virginia
table.

When everyone else sat, Washington solemnly remained
standing, and in a theatrical voice, gave the command they all
wanted to hear. “The plan, as amended, is ordered engrossed.”

Chapter 40

Monday, September 17, 1787

Madison sat in his customary place with folded hands
resting on the table. He didn’t intend to take notes today. In
fact, he didn’t intend to take any more notes on any day. This
signing ceremony would be the final act of the convention.

Madison noticed that his ink-stained hands looked
prayerful. He thought this fitting because a reverential spirit
suffused the assembly. The chamber remained hushed as the secretary
read the engrossed Constitution in its entirety. At the conclusion,
Franklin rose with a speech in his hand.

“
Mr. President, I confess there are several
parts of this Constitution I don’t like, but I’m not sure I won’t
later approve of them. Most men believe they possess all truth and
that whoever differs from them is in error. The older I grow, the
more I doubt my own judgment and the more I pay attention to the
judgment of others.

“
When you assemble a group of men to take
advantage of their collective wisdom, you inevitably bring together
all their prejudices, passions, and selfish views. From such an
assembly, can one expect perfection? It astonishes me that this
system approaches so near perfection.

“
Thus, I consent to this Constitution because
I’m not sure that it’s not the best. My reservations were born
within these walls and here they’ll die. I’ll never whisper a
syllable about my uncertainties. I hope we all heartily recommend
this Constitution. My wish is that any member who still harbors
objections will, with me, doubt his own infallibility and put his
name to this document.”

Franklin dropped his papers to his side and spoke in
a commanding voice. “I move the Constitution be signed.”

The old man had made a fine last attempt to
pull the three dissenters along, but Madison doubted that it would
work. They would have to settle for artifice;
by the unanimous consent of the states present
ignored the two missing states and the seven
delegates—counting those who had left—who dissented.

Gorham, looking nervous, asked for the floor.
“Gentlemen, I wish that the clause declaring, ‘the number of
Representatives shall not exceed one for every forty thousand,’ be
changed to ‘thirty thousand.’” Hamilton immediately seconded the
motion.

Washington rose to put the question to a vote,
hesitated, and then expressed his opinion for the first time.
“Although I have hitherto restrained myself, my wish is that the
proposal be approved. Many consider the small proportion of
representatives insufficient to secure the rights and interests of
the people. Late as the present moment is, it will give me great
satisfaction to see this amendment adopted.”

Madison turned to see Sherman’s reaction. Ellsworth
tapped his forearm, but Sherman just smiled and made a flick of his
hand. Sherman couldn’t countermand the sole wish expressed by the
great hero of the Revolution, but Madison wished he had been
rewarded with a flash of anger or at least surprise.

Without debate, the amendment was
approved
—
in the manner so
dear to Gen. Washington’s heart
—
unanimously.

Madison expected this to be the end, but Randolph
urgently asked for the floor. Bristling with indignation, he stared
at the Pennsylvania table. “I resent the allusions to myself by Dr.
Franklin.” Randolph turned toward Washington. “I apologize for
refusing to sign the Constitution. I don’t mean by this refusal to
oppose the Constitution beyond these doors. I only mean to keep
myself free to be governed by future judgments.”

Gerry felt obliged to explain his refusal. “This is
painful, and I won’t offer any further observations. The outcome
has been decided. While the plan was in debate, I offered my
opinions freely, but I’m now bound to treat it with the respect due
an act of the convention. I hope that I’m not violating that
respect by declaring I fear a civil war might erupt from these
proceedings.”

Gerry gave a disrespectful glance toward the
Pennsylvania table. “As for Dr. Franklin’s remarks, I cannot but
view them as leveled at myself and the other gentlemen who mean not
to sign.”

Pinckney had lost his normal composure, but none of
his arrogance. “We’re not going to gain any more converts. Let’s
sign the document.”

King interrupted the initiation of the signing
ceremony. “I suggest that the journals of the convention be
destroyed or deposited in the custody of the president. If it
becomes public, those who wish to prevent the adoption of the
Constitution will put it to bad use.”

“
I prefer the second expedient.” Wilson looked
directly at Gerry. “Some may make false representations of our
proceedings, and we’ll need evidence to contradict
them.”

The last hour confirmed Madison’s suspicion that the
fight for ratification would be divisive and mean-spirited.

The motion passed to deposit the journals into the
hands of Washington.

Finally, all other business completed, Washington
formally called on the delegates to sign the Constitution. The
secretary had arranged the Syng inkstand that had been used to sign
the Declaration of Independence on a green baize-covered table.
Washington walked around the table and signed first. He then called
the states from north to south. The delegates remained silent and
reverential as they approached the low dais to apply their
signatures.

When Virginia was called, Madison felt a tightening
in his stomach. This Constitution would permanently bind his
beloved country. When he picked up the pen, he looked at
Washington, who stood respectfully to the side, instead of behind
the table. The precedents set by this man would seal these words.
Madison grabbed the pen, dipped it in the inkwell, and signed with
confidence. When he looked up, Washington gave him a nod that made
Madison think he had read his mind.