by Ron Carter
“Interesting.” That is all he said about them, and moved on. “Was there anything else?”
Again Matthew read the covert message. You want my support. What else are you offering?
Matthew eased back in his chair and said firmly, “Should the constitution be ratified and become the law of the land, we are prepared to discuss backing you for vice president of the United States.”
Matthew stopped and for the first time he knew he had caught Hancock by total surprise.
Hancock repeated, quietly, thoughtfully, “Vice president.”
Matthew cut in. “Vice president. Further, if Virginia does not ratify the constitution, we will discuss supporting you for president.”
Hancock slowly eased back in his chair, and in his eyes were his visions of power and prestige, far beyond any office in the state of Massachusetts. President of the United States. How it stirred Hancock! For a time Matthew remained silent, watching Hancock. Adam did not move as he studied both men, caught up in the startling experience of seeing for the first time the real world of politics in action.
Hancock brought his reveries under control and leaned forward. “You’ve made an interesting proposal. I think I can agree to it. You do what you have suggested, and you’ll have my support.”
With no further exchange, it was done. It had taken less than eight minutes. Hancock drew and released a breath. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes. Are you aware of the meeting that was held just as the convention began? The one at the Green Dragon Tavern on Union Street in the North End?”
Hancock searched his memory. “I heard about it, but not the detail. Why?”
“Sam Adams is one of the representatives most trusted by the working men of Boston. They met at the Green Dragon to discuss the ratification. The crowd reached out into the streets. They decided to support ratification. Paul Revere was among them. He took the information to Sam Adams.”
Hancock was fascinated. “Go on.”
“Sam asked Revere one question. ‘How many were there?’ Revere answered, ‘as many as the stars in the heavens.’”
Matthew paused to let the impact settle into Hancock, then went on.
“I think Sam Adams now intends supporting ratification.”
Hancock’s eyebrows arched. “Adams? Has he said so?”
“No, not in words. But rumor has it he is saying it quietly to his constituents.”
Hancock stood. “We’ll see. In the meantime I want to study those proposed amendments. Keep me advised as this thing moves.”
The battle inside the convention chamber continued, with Matthew watching, listening, waiting every day. On Wednesday, January thirtieth, Governor John Hancock made his first appearance, his gout miraculously cured at the same instant he perceived which side was going to win the ongoing fight. On January thirty-first he took the floor and the room became silent in anticipation.
“My fellow delegates, I rise to propose some amendments to the constitution as it is now written, which we can pass on to the national congress for their consideration. Included in these proposed amendments is a bill of rights, and a reservation of all powers to the states, unless specifically granted to the new national government.”
Loud comment broke out and then quieted, and Hancock went on.
“My motive in presenting this to you is simple. I support ratification of the new constitution, and with these amendments it is my hope to pave the way for the adoption of a form of government that may extend its good influence to every part of the United States and advance the prosperity of the whole world.”
Applause filled the chamber.
Sam Adams then took the floor. “I move that the amendments, which are in fact conciliatory propositions, be taken under consideration. For those of us who are still undecided, may I suggest that this plan—the Massachusetts plan—is the best way of dealing with any misgivings.”
Comment rose and he paused and waited for silence before he finished. “Should Massachusetts fail to ratify, I can see repercussions through the nation that will lead to the breakup of the union, and I tremble at the consequence.”
Matthew leaned back, aware that the actions of Hancock and Adams had changed the entire course of the convention, away from the opposition, in favor of the supporters of ratification of the constitution. He leaned forward to peer down at the floor, waiting for the hot attack that he knew was going to come from the opposition. Some rose, angry, to renew their condemnation of the constitution.
Then, Matthew watched in stunned silence as three dedicated men of the opposition rose to declare they had changed their position. The actions of Governor John Hancock, followed by Sam Adams, had persuaded them that ratifying the Constitution, with the proposed amendments, was clearly the best course for the state of Massachusetts. Chief among the three was a brilliant, articulate young lawyer from Andover, William Symmes, who shocked the opposition as his words rang out.
“I refuse to apologize for switching sides, for in so doing I stand acquitted of my own conscience. I hope and trust I shall be so acquitted by my constituents, and I know I shall before God!”
Matthew watched the opponents on the floor disintegrate into loud confusion. A delegate sprang to his feet.
“I move for immediate adjournment.”
The sure knowledge flashed in Matthew’s mind. They’re desperate. Trying to adjourn to avoid a vote that will defeat them!
Another voice rang out. “Second the motion.”
The vote was taken, the tally posted, and the motion was defeated. There would be no delay during which the frantic opposition could rally their people.
Adams sensed an opportunity and once again took the floor. “I propose further conciliatory amendments.” He read a list. The debate went on for a time before it became obvious the newly arrived amendments were not favored, and Adams withdrew them.
Debate continued, the opposition desperately trying to stall, the supporters steadily pushing forward. One by one the obstacles were cleared, and on February sixth, 1788, true to his commitment, Governor John Hancock took the floor.
“I rise to suggest that we have completed our duty. Debate has been energetic and thorough, all pending motions have been resolved in favor of a conclusion to the issue now before us, and I recommend we proceed to a vote on the issue of ratification of the new constitution, with the proposed amendments.”
“Second the motion.”
The tension in the chamber was palpable. Matthew sat with his chart, making marks as the vote was taken.
Of the 401 communities in the commonwealth of Massachusetts that were eligible to send representatives to the convention, forty-six had failed to send any at all. The rural counties of Middlesex, Bristol, Worcester, Hampshire, and Berkshire, as expected, had voted against ratification, 128 votes against, 60 votes in favor. The urban coastal counties of Suffolk, Essex, Plymouth, and Barnstable, also as expected, had voted in favor of ratification, 100 in favor, 19 against.
Quickly Matthew added the columns that included all the counties, and for a moment closed his eyes in heady relief. The constitution had been ratified by a total vote of 187 in favor, 168 against. A margin of only nineteen votes.
He put his papers back in his leather case, rose from his place in the gallery, and walked briskly out into the frigid, clean air and the bright Massachusetts sun, striding toward Fruit Street and the offices of Dunson & Weems where his people were waiting.
We had to have Massachusetts, and we got it!
Notes
The delegates who supported ratification of the Constitution understood they would need the support of Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, and Virginia, three of the largest states, to succeed. The Massachusetts supporters also knew that the opposition held a majority in their home state. Of the 401 communities authorized to send delegates to the ratification convention, forty-six did not send representatives, as described. The parts played by John Hancock and Samuel Adams, as represented here are historic
ally accurate, as are the political strategies employed by both factions. The portrayal of Hancock as a politically motivated man, along with his feigned illness, is factual. The description of Elbridge Gerry’s refusal to account for his reservations to the Massachusetts convention was as described—he had been offended and never again took part in the debates. January twelfth, the Massachusetts Sentinel newspaper included an article by “A Republican Federalist” who favored ratification if certain amendments were included in the constitution, including a bill of rights, and others, but debate continued to run strongly against the supporters in the convention. The other events described in this chapter, leading to ratification by Massachusetts convention are based on the historical record, including Paul Revere’s declaration that the number of working men who supported ratification were “as many as the stars in the heavens.” Adams and Hancock were both heavily impressed. On January thirtieth Hancock did in fact attend the convention for the first time. On January thirty-first he rose to propose the amendments he had received from the supporters, as his own, according to their understanding. Sam Adams then rose in support of Hancock’s proposal. Three opposing delegates rose to state they had changed their position, and now favored the constitution, with the amendments. Strongest of the three was William Symmes, a very articulate lawyer, who added his explanation that he made no apologies for changing sides, since in so doing he stood “ . . . acquitted of my own conscience . . . my constituents . . . and . . . before God.” The die was cast. Debate moved on, Adams added a few amendments of his own that were not favored, and on February sixth, 1788, the vote was taken with the result being as described, including the narrow margin of victory.
For support, see Conely and Kaminski, The Constitution and the States, pp. 113–30. See also Bernstein, Are We to Be a Nation? pp. 207–8; Rossiter, 1787: The Grand Convention, pp. 287–89; Berkin, A Brilliant Solution, pp. 183–85; Warren, The Making of the Constitution, p. 819.
The description of how doctors, midwives, and wet nurses handled the births of babies as described in this chapter is accurate. See Ulrich, A Midwife’s Tale, pp. 165–97, particularly page 176.
Boston
June 26, 1788
CHAPTER XXX
* * *
Adam Dunson sat hunched forward at his desk in the rising midmorning Boston heat, impervious to the sounds of the waterfront that came through the partially open door of the Dunson & Weems office as he concentrated for the third time on essay number 51. The document was dated February 6, 1788, and had appeared in The New York Packet on February 8 in a series of essays written by the fictional “Publius” in an ongoing effort to persuade New Yorkers of the merits of the new constitution. The first essay had been dated October 27, 1787, and had been printed in The New York Packet and The Daily Advertiser on October 30. Essay number 80 had been published May 28, 1788, and more, yet unpublished, were to follow. The authors had followed the tradition of presenting their works to the public under the assumed name of some ancient philosopher or figure in an attempt to present their thoughts in an unbiased posture. But some knew that “Publius” was in reality Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay, trying to gain converts for ratification of the Constitution by using the Roman “Publius,” who had led his countrymen to a republican form of government to replace the tyranny of the Etruscan Kings. The three anonymous conspirators had pooled their collective genius in their essays, to examine every principle of government known to man and to carefully explain how the best of these principles had been brought together in the new constitution. Adam, and hundreds of other students of law and philosophy, had quickly perceived the essays were the most profound documents they had ever seen, of their kind.
Adam raised his head and called to Matthew, behind him, “Have you studied number 51?”
For a moment Matthew searched his memory. “About the separation of powers?”
“Yes.”
“Great document.”
“Brilliant! Separate the powers of government and force each to check the other. Have you read number 15?”
“Yes, but I don’t remember what it was about.”
“An analysis of the reasons the Articles of Confederation failed. So simple. Hard to understand why people are still arguing the issue.”
Matthew said, “Protect that file of essays. They’re going to be valuable.”
“They are now,” Adam exclaimed. “I’ve never seen logic and reason so simple and yet so—”
The partially open front door swung wide, and all four men in the office turned to look. Matthew was the first to recognize the stocky figure standing in the doorway, holding a bag filled with clothing.
“Billy!” he exclaimed. “You’re back.”
Billy Weems nodded. “I’m back.”
“How are you? When did you get in?”
“I’m fine. Got in just now. Haven’t been home yet. Thought I better come here first to make a report.”
All four men were on their feet, waiting.
“New Hampshire ratified,” Billy said. “June twenty-first. Five days ago. Fifty-seven to forty-seven. We won.”
Matthew’s eyes closed and his head rolled back for a moment. “The ninth state! The Constitution is now the law of the land!”
Billy set the bag on his own desk. “They were number nine? I didn’t know. I lost track up there.”
“South Carolina was number eight. Ratified on May twenty-third. New Hampshire has the honor of ushering in the new United States Constitution!”
Billy shook his head in wonder. “We didn’t know.”
Caleb interrupted. “You been gone long enough. What is it? Eight weeks?”
Billy grinned at him. “Eight weeks this trip. Six weeks last January. It’s been a while.”
Old Tom pointed. “Sit down there at your desk. You’ve got time to tell us at least the essentials of what went on up there. We’ve heard some pretty unusual things.”
Billy said, “It got unusual a few times.”
Matthew asked, “How did you travel home?”
“Walked part of the way. Caught a freight wagon coming right onto the waterfront. Got here five minutes ago.”
“Brigitte doesn’t know you’re here?”
“Not yet. I thought I should give you the news first.”
“Want to take time to tell us some of it?”
Billy shrugged. “Where do you want to start? You know I was up there in January and February with Eli, on snowshoes. Those people up in those river valleys—Merrimack, Connecticut, Piscataqua—are a pretty independent, pretty hardheaded lot. They’re suspicious of any form of strong centralized government. Eli and I found that out at that first convention in Exeter last winter. They were going to vote against ratification right then and there, but we were able to get them to adjourn and put off any vote until June. If they had gone ahead, New Hampshire would have rejected the new form of government.”
Tom broke in. “What happened between then and the vote five days ago? What changed?”
Billy chuckled. “Just about everything happened.”
Caleb asked, “Like what?”
Billy sat down in clothes that showed dust and roadwear. Weariness showed in his face. “At Exeter, we found out we were in trouble. We knew the majority of people up there were opposed to the constitution, but they were watching Massachusetts to see what it would do. Eli knows most of the leaders up there, and they know him. We went to John Langdon and John Sullivan for help. Langdon is a rare man—strong reputation in politics. Maybe you remember that he commanded militia back at the Saratoga fight in ’77. He was a delegate to the Philadelphia Convention.”
Billy paused, remembering the battle on the Hudson River that had turned the Revolutionary War in favor of the rebel Americans. He and Eli had led the do-or-die charge against the Breymann Redoubt and been there to witness the surrender of the vaunted British general John Burgoyne. He set the images aside and went on.
“Sullivan is the president o
f New Hampshire. President or governor, whichever they call it. He was also a general in the war. And both Langdon and Sullivan are strong for the Constitution and the new government. They agreed to help, and they brought others with them—influential men, such as Gilman, Livermore, and West. Gillman was also a delegate to the Philadelphia Convention.”
Billy paused for a moment to order his thoughts. “They helped us put together a plan, and things got interesting in a hurry. We urged all the supporters to get to the convention early and as soon as a quorum was there, force an election of the chairman and set some rules that would help get the meeting postponed if it would help.” Billy smiled. “It worked. Our people got there earlier than the opposition, and they voted Josiah Bartlett to be chairman. Bartlett was one of our leaders. That afternoon the opposition arrived, and again the next morning, and they had a clear majority, but they were too late. We already had the chairman and the rules we wanted in place.”
Billy shook his head and grinned. “It angered the opposition, and when debate opened on the ratification question, I never heard such language. Eli was there, standing quietly to one side with that long Pennsylvania rifle of his and his tomahawk in his belt, or I think we might have had a riot right there in the convention. We were taking a count every day, and the opposition was doing the same, to decide if we had enough strength to stand up to a vote, but we didn’t.”
Billy shifted in his chair. “Then something happened I can’t explain. Eleven of the opposition came to Langdon in private and said they had been told by their constituents to vote against ratification, so they had to do it, but that they didn’t feel good about it. So if it became necessary, Langdon would ask for an adjournment of the convention, and propose one later to be held at Concord, sometime in June, and they would support the motion for adjournment at Exeter. By then we knew they had the majority, so Langdon made the motion for adjournment, and those eleven men voted for it, along with our people. The final count was fifty-six in favor, fifty opposed. The Exeter convention was finished. That was in late February.”