Tempest at Dawn (35 page)

Hamilton clasped Madison’s shoulder and pulled him
toward the house. “Come. There’re lots of ladies eager to meet a
wealthy gentleman. Fate has someone picked out for you.”

“
Alex, I must trust in fate, for my charms
seduce no one.”

“
You underestimate the seductive power of
money.”

Madison couldn’t help but laugh as he bounced back
into the house, eager to rejoin the party. But the image of the
bright young girl lingered, titillating him. It was a moment he
would not soon forget.

“
No way to make it simple?” Ellsworth looked
worried.

“
I’m open to suggestions,” Sherman
said. “But sometimes politics just gets complicated.”

“
Simplicity is highly overrated,”
Dickinson huffed.

Sherman had arranged to met Ellsworth and
Dickinson in his room after church. He wanted to test his plan with
his closest friends, away from adversaries or the curious.

“
Can we coordinate events in both
Philadelphia and New York?” Ellsworth asked.

“
Others can.”

Ellsworth went for his snuff, a sure sign of
his unease. Sherman sipped his tea and waited.

Finally Ellsworth said, “I hope you don’t
intend to appeal to Washington’s greed.”

“
No,” Sherman responded immediately.
“It wouldn’t work, nor is it necessary.”

Dickinson said, “Anyone who approached him
with something that looked like a bribe would find himself on the
receiving end of a cane.”

Ellsworth continued to look worried. “Robert
Morris owns huge expanses of western lands, and Franklin and
Washington also have interests in the frontier. A deal of this sort
increases the value of their holdings. They might misconstrue your
intent.”

Ellsworth had touched on Sherman’s biggest
concern. “Prudent advice. I haven’t felt the cane since my father
died.”

“
Must you use Washington?” Ellsworth
asked. “The price’ll be dear.”

“
No one else can control both
delegations.”

“
Our side isn’t without influence in
Congress,” Ellsworth said.

“
Perhaps I’ve missed something. Have
we captured this convention?”

“
Of course not. The Virginians hold
the reins.”

“
And only a Virginian can take us down
a different path.”

Ellsworth shook his head. “I feel like we’re
conspiring with the opposition.”

Dickinson reached over and patted
Ellsworth’s forearm. “Trust those instincts, my boy, for that’s
exactly what our devious friend proposes.”

Ellsworth looked soulful as he slowly
fingered his snuffbox. “I didn’t anticipate building a great
republic with something so seedy.”

Dickinson wore a sly expression. “It
may look untidy, but if you watch the early brushstrokes of an
artist, his work looks puzzling and unattractive.
Later

and from a
distance

you see symmetry and
beauty. Those apparent random colors eventually become a work of
art.”

“
My error,” Ellsworth said with a
taint of sarcasm. “I forgot we’re artists, laying down dark hues
that’ll one day blossom into a beautiful pastoral
scene.”

Dickinson gave Ellsworth another pat on the
arm. “You do eventually catch on.”

Ignoring his snuff, Ellsworth turned to
Sherman. “Have you considered approaching someone other than the
general?”

“
Washington’s the only choice. Mason’s
too arrogant, Randolph’s a weather vane, and Madison’s a purist.
Washington can ram a constitution through this convention, but he
knows it’ll never get ratified without support from a few small
states. He sees this clearly

one of the few.” Sherman hefted the teapot and
felt that it was empty. “Besides, Washington carries enough clout
to pull this off.”

“
Why would he conspire with us?”
Ellsworth asked.

“
Washington can put the preliminaries
in place, but I hold the lynchpin. When I lay it out, he’ll see we
must work together.”

Ellsworth went for his snuff and took an
inordinate amount of time with his little ritual. “Roger, wait a
few more days. You said we need only one state to shift to our
side. Surely, we can find another way.”

“
The morality bothers you?”

Ellsworth answered Sherman with silence.

“
John?”

“
It’s a nasty piece of business.”
Dickinson hesitated. “Sometimes, if you stall, problems disappear;
passions abate. Other times, if you dawdle, you lose opportunity.
Why do you want to move now?”

“
Hamilton is about to leave for New
York. He must carry instructions from the general.”

Dickinson spun his empty teacup in a chipped
saucer. After a few distracted seconds, he looked up, and Sherman
was surprised to see compassion in his eyes. “Roger, how do you
feel about this?”

Sherman felt a pang of melancholy. Working
out the mechanics had mercifully seized his mind for the last few
days. Sherman didn’t tend toward introspection, but he had wrestled
with these issues on many solitary walks. In the end, he couldn’t
reconcile his proposal with his religious beliefs. The money side
bothered him, but he could live with the consequences. It was the
slavery side that struck deep, far too deep to slough off with
little excuses.

Was he too determined to make a deal,
any deal? Would he sacrifice any principle? Roger believed himself
an honest man. An honest man must first and foremost be honest with
himself. His plan didn’t sanction slavery, but it used the South’s
need to protect this institution as a means to protect Connecticut.
The convention would never endorse a government that didn’t
tolerate slavery, but he couldn’t use this as a rationalization. He
had decided to do wrong

to
sacrifice the freedom of thirty-five percent of the population in
the South to get a workable federal government.

Perhaps sacrifice was too strong a word.
Negroes were already in bondage, and nothing that happened in
Philadelphia in the summer of 1787 would change their condition.
Every state except Massachusetts allowed slaves. A less honest man
might tell himself that bargaining with something the other side
already controlled was clever, not evil. Sherman knew better. As
soon as he struck his deal, he would be sucked into the morass of
slavery.

Sherman heard a quiet knock at the door.
“Come in.”

Howard opened the door enough to stick his
head in and asked, “Would you gentlemen care for more tea? Mrs.
Marshall has baked fresh scones.”

“
Thank you, Howard. You’re very
thoughtful. A fresh pot of tea sounds good, and I never turn down
Mrs. Marshall’s cooking.”

“
I’ll return in about ten minutes.
Sorry to interrupt.”

The three men sat silent until Howard
withdrew his head and closed the door with a barely audible
click.

Dickinson caught Sherman’s eye. “Are we
cutting a pact with the devil?”

Sherman glanced at the closed door, then
returned to meet Dickinson’s eyes, “No, John, but his surrogates
fill our dance card.”

Sherman entered the chamber and
immediately felt suffocated by the humid atmosphere. Summer had
come early this year, and the morning temperature was unusually
warm. He glanced toward the closed windows and wished they could be
opened to allow some unspoiled air into the chamber. As he took his
seat, Sherman feared that both the heat and tempers would worsen in
the days ahead.

At the opening of every session,
he made a habit of looking around to observe the members’ moods, to
see if he could spot any knowing glances between delegates who had
conspired into the night, or perhaps catch a hard glare between men
who had gone to bed angry. Pinckney started speaking before Sherman
completed his scrutiny of the room, and he found himself drawn into
a skillful exhibition of eloquence and energy.

Sherman got his work done by craft
and perseverance. How much more could he have accomplished with
Pinckney’s good looks and easy grace? Despite the clammy heat,
Pinckney appeared cool and unaffected. He moved with poise, spoke
with authority, and projected confidence. Sherman tugged at his
moist wool pants and felt envious of the linen attire favored by
Southerners.

“
Gentlemen, we must remember that
we’re unique. Compared to other countries, there are few
distinctions of rank and fortune. Every freeman has the same
rights, honors, and privileges.”

In private conversation, Pinckney enjoyed
irritating people, but he knew how to deliver a speech and command
a chamber’s attention. Although he often wasted his talent to make
small points, today he seemed to have a larger sense of
purpose.

“
Equality will continue in our new
country because we reward industry. Almost every member of our
society enjoys an equal opportunity to achieve wealth or rise to
high office. Gentlemen, it would be a mistake to design a
government meant for a different people.”

Pinckney modulated his voice in a
pleasing rhythm that seemed natural to those reared in the Southern
aristocracy. Sherman knew his Yankee twang grated on the ears of
the gentlemen from the South.

“
Our situation is distinct from the
people of Greece or Rome. Can Solon’s orders work in the United
States? Do the military habits of Sparta resemble our habits? Are
the distinctions of patrician and plebeian known among us? Were the
Helvetica or Belgic confederacies, or the Germanic Empire, similar
to us? No—they’re all different.”

Pinckney’s reminder of his own classical
education was aimed at the scribbling little man in the front row.
Madison sat at his usual place, his quill pen moving in smooth
swirls, interrupted by unconscious detours to the inkwell. Sherman
wondered what Madison intended to do with his precious notes.

“
The constitution of Great Britain may
be the best in existence, but Parliament is a creature of chance.
The monarch needed money, and the nobility wouldn’t permit taxation
unless they were given a voice, so they blended the Commons with
the Lords to form Parliament.”

As Pinckney said this, he raised his hands
in front of him at equal height, right palm up and the left palm
down. “Since that time, nobility have been a part of Parliament,
but their power has diminished, as the power of the Commons
increased.” With this he lowered his left hand and raised his right
palm upward. Sherman grew jealous. He never used appropriate
gestures to accent important points. In fact, he seldom used
gestures at all.

“
The United States will never accept
nobility, and this country contains few men wealthy enough to pose
a dangerous influence. Perhaps there aren’t one hundred such men on
this continent.”

Sherman thought that at least thirty of
those with “dangerous influence” sat in this chamber. The
thirty-first stood before them.

“
Can this situation change?” Pinckney
asked. “From what cause? The landed? That interest is too divided.
Moneyed interest? If that happened, it would be the first time
nobility sprang from merchants.”

This last was said with such disdain that no
one could mistake Pinckney’s contempt for the merchant class.
Sherman stole a glance at Gerry and spotted annoyance.

“
Fellow delegates, we’re here to form
a government for the people of the United States. We’re a vast new
country, capable of extending the blessings of liberty to all its
citizens—capable even of making them happy.”

“
What kind of government suits us
best?” Pinckney then stepped to his desk and picked up his
notes.

After what Sherman considered an
excellent preamble, Pinckney proceeded for the second time to
present his plan of government. Unfortunately, the high interest
shown for his opening remarks didn’t extend to the populist theme
of his plan. Sherman detected no converts. He noticed that even
Madison had put down his quill and folded his hands on the table, a
clear sign that he didn’t intend to record Pinckney’s plan. Sherman
was pleased that the tiff between Madison and Pinckney hadn’t been
squelched. Personal rivalries often presented a mallet to break
opposing coalitions into manageable pieces.

“
If no better plan is proposed, I move for the
adoption of this one.”

With this weak close, Pinckney
walked over and plopped a copy of his plan on the table in front of
Madison. Madison kept his hands folded and studiously appeared
indifferent to the document.

“
An excellent scheme; I highly
endorse it,” Robert Morris said.

Washington gave Morris a
cautionary glance. “I’ll consider it overnight and speak to you
before the opening of tomorrow’s session.”

Strange, but Sherman felt more
comfortable with Washington’s equivocation than with the
unqualified endorsement from Morris. Both had speculated in western
lands, but Washington dabbled, while Morris had committed a huge
portion of his vast fortune. The general’s measured response made
Sherman feel better. If Washington came to embrace the plan, it
meant he too had decided that the objective justified whatever
expedients might be necessary.

“
Of course, sir. I expected nothing more,”
Sherman said.