PART FIVE: Birth of the Republic
9: Miracle at Philadelphia
by H.W. BRANDS
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Once the Revolution began, Americans set about creating the political machinery necessary to sustain an independent nation. The Second Continental Congress, called in 1775, continued as an emergency, all-purpose central government until 1781, when the Articles of Confederation were finally ratified and a new one-house Congress was elected to function as the national government. Wary of central authority because of the British experience, Americans now had precisely the kind of government most of them wanted: an impotent Congress that lacked the authority to tax, regulate commerce, or enforce its own ordinances and resolutions. Subordinate to the states, which supplied it with funds as they chose, Congress was powerless to run the country. Indeed, its delegates wandered from Princeton to Annapolis to Trenton to New York, endlessly discussing where they should settle.
Patriots such as James Madison of Virginia, Alexander Hamilton of New York, and the venerable George Washington fretted in their correspondence about the near paralysis of the central government and the unstable conditions that plagued the land. "An opinion begins to prevail, that a General Convention for revising the Articles of Confederation would be expedient," John Jay wrote Washington in March 1787. Washington agreed that the "fabrick" was "tottering." When Massachusetts farmers rose in rebellion under Daniel Shays, Washington was horror stricken. "Are your people getting mad? ... What is the cause of all this? When and how is it to end? ... What, gracious God, is man! that there should be such inconsistency and perfidiousness in his conduct? ... We are fast verging to anarchy and confusion!"
Many of his colleagues agreed. There followed a series of maneuvers and meetings that culminated in the great convention of 1787, a gathering of fifty-five notables sent to Philadelphia to overhaul the feeble Articles of Confederation. Without authority, they proceeded to draft an entirely new constitution that scrapped the Articles, created a new government, and undoubtedly saved the country and America's experiment in popular government. As James MacGregor Burns has noted, it was a convention of "the well-bred, the well-fed, the well-read, and the well-wed." Most delegates were wealthy, formally educated, and youngish (their average age was the early forties), and more than a third of them were slave owners. The poor, the uneducated, the backcountry farmers, and women, blacks, and Indians were not represented. Throughout their deliberations, moreover, they compromised on the volatile slavery issue. "For these white men," wrote one scholar, "the black man was always a brooding and unsettling presence (the black woman, even more than the white woman, was beyond the pale, beyond calculation)." For most of the framers of the Constitution, order and national strength were more important than the unalienable rights of blacks or women. Like their countrymen, most could simultaneously love liberty, recognize the injustice of slavery, yet tolerate bondage as a necessary evil.
As we enter our third century under the Constitution, we need more than ever to remember that the framers were not saints but human beings -- paradoxical, complex, unpredictable, and motivated by selfishness as well as high idealism. Yet, as H. W. Brands shows in the following selection, the founders were able to rise above petty self-interest to fashion what remains the oldest written national constitution, which in turn created one of the oldest and most successful federal systems in history.
Brands tells the story of the Constitutional Convention from the viewpoint of Benjamin Franklin, the oldest and perhaps the wisest of the delegates assembled there. As Franklin perused the list of delegates when the convention began, he declared himself extremely pleased. "We have here at present," Franklin said, "what the French call une assemblee des notables, a convention composed of some of the principal people from the states of our Confederation." Reading over the same roster, Thomas Jefferson called the convention an assembly of demi-gods."
It was remarkable indeed that a new country of only about four million people produced an assembly of some of the most gifted statesmen in history. Yet only Franklin and George Washington, who presided over the convention, had national reputations. Both men sought to create a strong central government that would rise above the petty differences of the thirteen states. Other delegates feared such a government, especially one with a large standing army. Massachusetts delegate Elbridge Gerry spoke for many of his colleagues when he said that such an army might be misused, thus endangering their infant nation. Gerry compared a large standing army with a large standing penis. "An excellent assurance of domestic tranquility," he said, "but a dangerous temptation to foreign adventure." Franklin no doubt enjoyed a hearty laugh over the analogy. He would have reminded Gerry and the other delegates that "the wisdom of the common folks" would restrain both an overzealous chief executive and a strong standing army.
The most divisive dispute concerned the nature of representation. Franklin compared the dispute to that of a snake with two heads when confronting a bush. One head wanted to go on one side of the stem, Franklin said, but the other head insisted on the other side. "Neither of the heads would consent to come back or give way to the other, " implying that the snake would starve to death if the heads could not reach an accommodation. The convention faced a similar problem: the delegates had to resort by necessity to accommodation and compromise, or their work would die of indecision. Fortunately for them and all succeeding generations of Americans, the delegates were able to fashion a new government through a series of painstaking compromises. By doing so, they ensured the survival of their new Constitution and the new government it created. A later historian called their achievement "the miracle at Philadelphia. "
GLOSSARY
ARTICLES OF CONFEDERATION (1781-1789) The first American government after independence, it consisted of a weak central government that was subordinate to the states. There was a one-house congress that exercised all judicial, executive, and legislative functions but that lacked the power to levy taxes or to regulate currency.
BEDFORD, GUNNING A delegate from Delaware who believed that the large states had adopted "a dictatorial air" toward the small ones. He threatened secession if the individual states lost the sovereignty they had under the Articles of Confederation.
CUTLER, MANASSEH A Massachusetts clergyman and botanist who came to Philadelphia as a lobbyist for a group that was interested in receiving land grants in the Northwest Territory.
HAMILTON, ALEXANDER The brilliant New York delegate to the Constitutional Convention, Hamilton had earlier served as Washington's military aide during the American Revolution. Despite a humble background, Hamilton was an elitist who preferred monarchical government and distrusted the opinions of ordinary people.
JONES, JOHN PAUL During the American Revolution, Jones was an American naval officer who commanded the warship Bonhomme Richard. He raided British shipping and captured an English warship, which made him famous in America. During a desperate battle with another British warship, Jones's ship was severely damaged. When asked to surrender, he defiantly shouted: "I have not yet begun to fight."
MADISON, JAMES A Virginia delegate to the Constitutional Convention, this planter, slaveholder, and brilliant statesman was responsible for much of the substance of the new Constitution drafted there.
MORRIS, GOUVERNEUR A Pennsylvania delegate to the Constitutional Convention, Morris assumed the main responsibility for drafting the new Constitution. The preamble, which began, "We the people," was his inspiration and represented one of the single most important acts of the Constitutional Convention.
MORRIS, ROBERT Another Pennsylvania delegate to the Constitutional Convention, Morris was one of the richest men in America. He had earned a considerable reputation for his work in financing the American Revolution. While at the Constitutional Convention, Washington stayed at Morris's impressive mansion.
RANDOLPH, EDMUND A popular governor and a delegate from Virginia at the Constitutional Convention, Randolph championed the interests of the large states there, speaking in his trademark high-pitched voice Randolph wanted a legislature based on proportional representation (see the Virginia Plan in this glossary).
SHAYS'S REBELLION {1786} Poor farmers in western Massachusetts closed a county courthouse and threatened to seize a federal arsenal. Daniel Shays, who had fought at Bunker Hill, led a group of rural debtors who felt that the state government was insensitive to their needs. Shays's uprising was symptomatic of the weaknesses of the Articles of Confederation and the need for a stronger central government.
SOCIETY FOR POLITICAL INQUIRIES Formed by Benjamin Franklin, the society included George Washington, Thomas Paine, and many prominent Philadelphia residents. It met periodically to engage in lively discussions on, in Franklin's words, "the arduous and complicated science of government."
VIRGINIA PLAN Proposed by Edmund Randolph, the Virginia Plan called for a national executive with veto power, a national judiciary, and a two-house legislature. The lower house would be "elected by the people, and the upper house chosen by the lower." Delegates from the small states felt threatened by this proportional representation plan.
WILSON, JAMES A Pennsylvania delegate at the Constitutional Convention, Wilson advocated a strong national government and a legislature based on proportional representation. Wilson proposed that the southern states should count three-fifths of their slave populations when determining the number of representatives each slave state would have in the national House of Representatives.
[Benjamin] Franklin had lived much longer than [James] Madison -- much longer, in fact, than all but a handful of the other delegates to the constitutional convention. And he adopted a much less alarmist view of the future. He referred to [Daniel] Shays's rebellion as merely the work of "some disorderly people," and declared -- this to a French friend, to whom he spoke candidly -- "The rest of the states go on pretty well, except some dissensions in Rhode Island and Maryland respecting paper money."
Yet if he did not think doom at the door, Franklin heard its rumblings in the distance. Briefing [Thomas] Jefferson, still in France,* he wrote that from what he knew of the delegates, they seemed to be men of prudence and ability. "I hope good from their meeting." But the risks were great. "If it does not do good it must do harm, as it will show that we have not wisdom enough among us to govern ourselves, and will strengthen the opinion of some political writers that popular governments cannot long support themselves."
Anticipating the convention, Franklin organized a group called the Society for Political Inquiries, which met weekly in the library of his new home. Philadelphians made up the active membership, but the group enrolled various outside luminaries as honorary members. Among these was [George] Washington, who was thought to be favorably disposed to constitutional revision yet was also known to be reluctant to take a leading role. The former general cherished his exalted reputation and was correspondingly hesitant to involve himself in any divisive venture. At the same time, however, he hardly desired the undoing of the cause to which he had devoted eight years of his life. Nor did he wish to appear derelict in his duty. Franklin was among those telling Washington that duty called him to Philadelphia. "Your presence will be of the greatest importance to the success of the measure," Franklin wrote. Washington allowed himself to be persuaded.
Washington's arrival in Philadelphia prompted a civic celebration the likes of which had not been seen since the end of the war. A cadre of his old officers rode out to greet him; the party crossed the Schuylkill on a floating bridge built by the British but abandoned intact at the evacuation of the city and since maintained by the locals. Church bells pealed as the hero passed; the leading citizens vied for his favor. Robert and Mrs. Morris won the prize of housing him, in their mansion on Market Street just east of Sixth. If the Morris house was any evidence, the financier's interests were thriving; besides a hothouse (for winter enjoyment), the compound boasted an icehouse (especially appreciated during the sweltering weeks of the convention) and a stable for twelve horses. (Yet, not content with a standard of living unsurpassed "by any commercial voluptuary of London," in the words of a French visitor, Morris subsequently speculated in western lands and lost all. He spent three years in a debtors' prison within wailing distance of his former mansion.)
On arrival Washington paid his respects to Franklin; the next day the general returned for dinner. The other delegates followed suit. Franklin's new dining room seated twenty-four; he now probably wished it bigger, for everyone insisted on seeing the man who was at once America's resident sage and, as Pennsylvania president, the convention's ex officio host. On Friday, May 18, he wrote a London brewer who had sent him a cask of porter [beer]. "We have here at present what the French call une assemblee des notables, a convention composed of some of the principal people from the several states of our confederation. They did me the honour of dining with me last Wednesday, when the cask was broached, and its contents met with the most cordial reception and universal approbation."
On this festive note the convention commenced its sober business. Only two men were even contemplated for president of the convention: Franklin and Washington. Franklin deferred to Washington, perhaps partly from concern that his health would not stand the wear of daily sessions, but at least equally from knowledge that the project would have the greatest chance of success under the aegis of the eminent general. (Washington's distance above mere mortals was already legendary. Several delegates were discussing this phenomenon when Franklin's Pennsylvania colleague, Gouverneur Morris, a hearty good fellow, suggested it was all in their minds. Alexander Hamilton challenged Morris: "If you will, at the next reception evenings, gently slap him on the shoulder and say, 'My dear General, how happy I am to see you look so well!' a supper and wine shall be provided for you and a dozen of your friends." Morris accepted the challenge and did what Hamilton demanded. Washington immediately removed Morris's hand from his shoulder, stepped away, and fixed Morris with an angry frown until the trespasser retreated in confusion. Hamilton paid up, yet at the dinner Morris declared, "I have won the bet, but paid dearly for it, and nothing could induce me to repeat it.")
"Scene at the Signing of the Constitution" by Howard Chandler Christy. Courtesy Archives of the Capitol
Thomas Jefferson, although he was not present, called the men who gathered at Philadelphia to write the Constitution "an assembly of demi-gods. " Most recognize in this Howard C. Christy painting the tall upright figure of the presiding officer, George Washington, and the slouched gout-stricken body of eighty-one year-old Benjamin Franklin. They were men of substance, of property -- men who were about to draft what would become the longest-running constitution in the history of the world.
Franklin was right to worry about his ability to attend all the sessions. His mode of travel these days -- to the limited extent he did travel -- was via sedan chair, a seat mounted between two poles, which he had brought from France. Four prisoners from the Walnut Street jail hoisted the chair on their shoulders, and, if they walked slowly, Franklin's [kidney] stone did not pain him too much. Although the seat was covered, with glass windows, it was not really suited to foul weather, and when heavy rain doused the opening day of the convention, Franklin was forced to stay home. He had been planning to nominate Washington for convention president himself; instead the nomination was put forward by the Pennsylvania delegation. The gesture was appreciated all the same. "The nomination came with particular grace from Pennsylvania," recorded James Madison, "as Doctor Franklin alone could have been thought of as a competitor.
Before the convention most of the delegates knew Franklin only by reputation. His long absence from America rendered him something of a mystery; most wondered whether he would live up to all the good things said of him -- or down to the few bad things. William Pierce of Georgia was one of the handful of delegates who recorded his impression:
Dr. Franklin is well known to be the greatest philosopher of the present age; all the operations of nature he seems to understand, the very heavens obey him, and the clouds yield up their lightning to be imprisoned in his rod.
But what claim he has to be a politician, posterity must determine. It is certain that he does not shine much in public council. He is no speaker, nor does he seem to let politics engage his attention.
He is, however, a most extraordinary man, and tells a story in a style more engaging than anything I ever heard. Let his biographer finish his character. He is 82 [actually 81] years old, and possesses an activity of mind equal to a youth of 25 years of age.
Franklin would have been the first to agree he was no orator, and in a gathering of fifty-five politicians, most of whom prided themselves on their forensic skills, he was content to let others carry the oratorical burden.
In fact he allowed others to carry even the burden of his statements. Very early the intentions of the organizers of the convention became evident: not merely to revise the Articles of Confederation but to draft an entirely new charter. The Virginians -- especially Madison and Edmund Randolph -- had been busy, and on the third day Randolph revealed a comprehensive plan for a national government. The centerpiece of the Virginia plan was a powerful legislature of two houses, one house elected by the people, the other chosen by the popular house from nominations forwarded by the states. The legislature would name the executive and the judiciary, and it would possess a veto over state laws infringing its prerogatives.
Franklin had preferred a unicameral legislature for Pennsylvania, and he preferred it for America. He preferred an executive council, again on the Pennsylvania model, over a single president. But his first speech addressed another issue: how the executive was to be paid. Apologizing for the fact that his memory was not what it had been, he explained that he had written out his remarks. Franklin's Pennsylvania colleague James Wilson offered to read them, and Franklin accepted.
Franklin proposed that the executive, whether singular or plural, receive no compensation beyond expenses. "There are two passions which have a powerful influence on the affairs of men," he asserted. "These are ambition and avarice: the love of power, and the love of money: Separately, each of these has great force in prompting men to action; but when united in view of the same object, they have in many minds the most violent effects. Place before the eyes of such men a post of honour that shall at the same time be a place of profit, and they will move heaven and earth to obtain it." ...
Some would call his proposal utopian, Franklin conceded; men must be paid for their labors. Yet he begged to differ, and he cited evidence. In English counties the office of high sheriff yielded no profit to its holder; on the contrary, the office cost its holder money. "Yet it is executed, and well executed, and usually by some of the principal gentlemen of the county." In France the office of counselor likewise exacted a cost of its holders, yet respectable and capable individuals vied for the distinction it conferred.
Nor did the members of the convention have to look across the ocean for examples of patriotic service untied to profit. They merely had to look across the room. "Have we not seen the great and most important of our offices, that of general of our armies, executed for eight years together without the smallest salary, by a patriot whom I will not now offend by any other praise?" If such was true amid the fatigues and distresses of war, would not the country be able to find men willing to give service during peace? "I have a better opinion of our country. I think we shall never be without a sufficient number of wise and good men to undertake and execute well and faithfully the office in question."
Perhaps Franklin misread from his own past into the future of his audience. Their very presence, combined with their youth, indicated they were not like him, who had delayed entering politics until he had made his fortune. Nor were any but a few as well off as Washington, who could afford to serve his country for eight years without compensation. These men might not place profit above honor, but few of them could ignore profit entirely.
Madison recorded the reaction to Franklin's speech: "The motion was seconded by Colonel [Alexander] Hamilton with the view, he said, of merely bringing so respectable a proposition before the committee, and which was besides enforced by arguments that had a certain degree of weight. No debate ensued, and the proposition was postponed for the consideration of the members. It was treated with great respect, but rather for the author of it than from any apparent conviction of its expediency or practicality."
Another Franklin proposal received equally short shrift. A month into the convention the body had made frustratingly little progress. Franklin noted that the delegates had searched history for guidance and looked to the governments of other countries. "How has it happened, sir, that we have not hitherto once thought of humbly applying to the Father of Lights to illuminate our understandings?" At the onset of the troubles with Britain, the Continental Congress, meeting in this very room, had daily requested divine help in finding its way. "Our prayers were heard, sir, and they were graciously answered. All of us who were engaged in the struggle must have observed the frequent instances of a superintending Providence in our favour." Without Heaven's help the delegates would not be where they were, attempting what they were attempting. "Have we now forgotten that powerful Friend? Or do we imagine we no longer need its assistance?" Franklin remarked that he had lived a long time. "And the longer I live the more convincing proofs I see of this truth, that God governs in the affairs of men. And if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without his notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without his aid?" ...
This statement was as open as Franklin ever got in public about his religious beliefs. (And it was only partially public, the delegates having pledged themselves to confidentiality.) The delegates probably did not appreciate the unusual candor in Franklin's remarks; in any case they ignored them. His motion received a second, but Hamilton and others worried that, however laudable the practice of prayer might be, to commence it at this late date would convey a sense of desperation. Franklin responded that the past omission of a duty did not justify continued omission and that the public was just as likely to respond positively as negatively to word that their delegates were seeking God's blessing on their labors.
His argument failed. After Hugh Williamson of North Carolina pointed out that the convention lacked funds to pay a chaplain, Edmund Randolph offered an amendment to Franklin's motion. Randolph suggested hiring a preacher to give a sermon on Independence Day, less than a week off, and thereafter to open the sessions with a prayer.
Franklin accepted the amendment, but the delegates put off discussion by recessing for the day, and the proposition died. Franklin remarked with some wonder, at the bottom of the written copy of his speech, "The convention, except three or four persons, thought prayers unnecessary!"
Most delegates had more earthly matters in mind. The nature of the executive vexed the convention for weeks. At one extreme stood Alexander Hamilton, the former protege of Washington -- ambitious, arrogant, intolerant of those less gifted than he. A certain mystery surrounded his West Indian birth; John Adams, ever uncharitable, called him the "bastard brat of a Scotch pedlar." He was small and lithe, with delicate features that made him look even younger than his thirty-two years. Yet the fire that burned inside him made him seem, to Jefferson at least (after Hamilton aimed his flames Jefferson's way), "an host within himself." Even on best behavior, as at the convention, he put people off. William Pierce, while granting that Hamilton was "deservedly celebrated for his talents," added, "His manners are tinctured with stiffness, and sometimes with a degree of vanity that is highly disagreeable."
Patriotic and courageous during the war, [b]Hamilton nonetheless retained a decided partiality toward the British system of government. "I believe the British government form the best model the world ever produced," Hamilton told the convention. The secret of the British government was its strength, which allowed it to provide individual security. The British recognized a fundamental facet of human nature. "All communities divide themselves into the few and the many. The first are the rich and well born, the other the mass of the people. The voice of the people has been said to be the voice of God; and however generally this maxim has been quoted and believed, it is not true in fact." The people were turbulent and fickle; they rarely knew where their interests lay. "Give therefore to the first class a distinct, permanent share in the government. They will check the unsteadiness in the second, and as they cannot receive any advantage by a change, they therefore will ever maintain good government."