“Secondly, if new states are created, the legislature shall possess the authority to regulate the number of representatives based on wealth and inhabitants.”
Sherman stood, clasped his hands in front of his waistcoat, and spoke without a trace of enmity. Madison studied him. The man was driven by passion, yet he displayed less emotion than a worn-out harlot. “Could someone please explain how the committee settled on the numbers? They don’t appear to correspond to any criteria discussed in this chamber.”
Gorham tried to explain. “We used the number of whites and blacks, with some regard to property.” Appearing uncomfortable, he soldiered on. “There were objections to membership based purely on population, because the legislature would grow very large, and western states might one day outvote our Atlantic states.”
Paterson took the floor, and Madison braced for an angry onslaught. Instead, Paterson gave a terse response. “I considered the rules too vague.” As he started to take his seat, he calmly declared, “New Jersey will resist the report.” But before his posterior actually touched the seat, he bolted upright again.
“May I ask a simple question? In the sovereign state of Virginia, does a man hold a vote for each of his slaves? Or even for three-fifths of his slaves?” Paterson glared around the chamber. “No, gentlemen, he does not! We use representatives because it’s impossible to gather all the people. But if such a meeting occurred in Virginia, would slaves attend? They would not! You don’t allow Negroes representation in your own states, so why should we allow them to be represented in the general government?”
As he sat down, Paterson threw out a final challenge. “Please excuse my befuddlement, but could someone please explain the underlying principle to me?”
While Madison scratched out Paterson’s outburst, Sherman moved that the report should be referred to yet another committee, one with a member from each state. Madison felt divided; his loyalty to the South conflicted with his foremost principle of proportional representation. This was where Sherman’s obsession with equal suffrage in the Senate had driven them: dueling committees to apportion the other house. Principles once violated bred corruption.
Gouverneur Morris interrupted his thoughts. “The report is little more than a guess. I second the motion.” Madison didn’t know the inner workings of the committee, but if Morris could defect so easily, it must have been acrimonious. The assembly quickly passed the motion for a new committee, with only two nays. The new committee members included himself, Roger Sherman, Gouverneur Morris, Rufus King, Pierce Butler, and six other capable delegates. As the meeting adjourned, Madison realized that Washington had already kept his promise, but he had never imagined that another committee would be formed so soon.
As he stood to leave, Sherman caught his eye and gave him one of his quirky smiles. The meaning escaped him until he realized that this would be the first time in nearly two months that the two adversaries would work together. It was about time.
The only way to reach the two small chambers facing the back of the building was through doors that opened from the Long Gallery. The governor of Pennsylvania occupied the room to the left, so Madison turned right and walked the ten paces to the Committee Chamber door.
Most of the eleven members sat around four tables that had been pushed together to form a large work area. Madison took an empty seat next to Gouverneur Morris, who looked agitated.
“Good afternoon, Gouverneur.”
“We shall see.”
“You sound unhappy.”
“This business may never end.”
“It must. I hate snow.” This brought some tense laughter from around the table.
“Damn it, if you had stood by your committee’s work, we’d be closer,” Butler said.
Morris chose not to reply, so Madison spread out his papers and arranged his inkpot and quills. Soon all eleven members were present, and Butler said testily, “Let’s get to work.”
Sherman made a guttural noise and said, “I propose Gouverneur Morris chair the committee.”
“Why?” Butler demanded.
“Because he was on the prior committee, and he can guide us around the shoals.”
“That committee failed,” Butler protested.
“I decline,” Morris said, obviously peeved. “If you think someone from the prior committee can add value, I nominate Mr. King.”
Nobody spoke. Some looked around the table; others pretended to consult their papers. The mood frightened Madison. The muggy room didn’t help, but at least on the second floor, they could open the windows to catch whatever faint breeze wafted above the hot streets. Nailing the windows shut in the Assembly Room seemed excessive when a few sentries could have kept eavesdroppers away from the building.
Finally, Sherman said, “I think Mr. King is a fine choice, and I second the nomination.” Rufus King voiced no objection and quickly won the dubious honor.
Before King could set the order of business, Butler grabbed everyone’s attention. “The South insists on security for her Negroes. They won’t be taken from us.”
“No one threatens that,” Sherman said.
“Some gentlemen have a very good mind to do just that.”
“Mr. Butler,” Sherman said, “we all have special interests that warrant protection.”
“The strength of America swells faster in the South,” Butler exclaimed.
“Meaning?”
“This committee should award the South a larger proportion of representatives.”
“You demand equality?” Morris asked incredulous.
“I demand protection for my property.”
Gouverneur Morris pushed his inkwell away, as if finished for the day. “This business has led me into a deep gloom. A division has been manufactured between the North and South, and the distinction is groundless.”
“Groundless!” Butler grew red in the face. “We sit in the North. Go sit in the South and judge if it’s groundless.”
“Whether groundless or genuine, you persist in it. You’ll not relent until you gain a majority in the public councils. You want—”
“We demand protection for our property.”
“Now you demand protection for your peculiar objects; soon you’ll demand war with Spain, which would threaten our commercial interests.”
“Spain must be thrown from our frontier!”
“Damn you, sir, I’ll vote for that vicious principle of equality in the Senate just to defend myself against your tyranny.”
“Our tyranny? Good God, man, you’ve taken leave of your senses.”
“I’ve come to my senses. Either this distinction between North and South is fictitious or real.” Morris rose from his chair. “If real, we should take leave of each other.”
“Gentlemen, please,” Madison said. “First, we fight small against large, now South against North. The tactics remain the same: angry ultimatums, pleas to the emotions, threats to secede. We must return to reason. Both houses must be based on inhabitants.”
“Then where’s my security?” demanded Butler.
“And where’s mine?” demanded Morris, thumping his wooden leg against the wood floor.
Everyone fell silent. Madison looked at Sherman, who wore the innocent expression of a fresh-scrubbed boy at his first day of school. Madison felt infuriated. “Gentlemen, please,” he pleaded. “Let’s assume for the moment that the protection you seek can be delivered by the Senate. Additional infractions shouldn’t be imposed on the lower house.”
“We voted to proportion the lower house based on the number of freemen, with slaves counted as three-fifths,” Sherman said. “I suggest we proceed on that basis.”
Butler looked as if a thought had just struck him. “Do you mean to count your blacks as full inhabitants?”
“All freemen should receive a full count,” Sherman said in a surprisingly strong voice.
“Let’s not pursue that issue,” King interjected. “It’s far too inconsequential.”
“I a
gree,” Madison said. “If we must argue, let’s argue about something that matters.”
Everyone looked warily at each other, but no one pushed to argue about the status of free blacks. Madison finally suggested a break, and everyone filed out of the room without comment.
“There’s safety in numbers,” Madison said with exasperation.
“There’s confusion in numbers,” Sherman said offhandedly, as he struggled with some long division.
The committee had cajoled, bartered, and negotiated until they had something they were willing to submit to the full assembly. Madison felt relief that the men in the room had put away their grievances for a few hours to concentrate on their task, using mechanics instead of emotion. Surprisingly, his strongest ally until now had been Sherman. They had settled on a ratio between North and South that was identical with that of the committee of five, except that they had shifted the weight from the Deep South to the perimeter states of Virginia and Maryland. So many representatives allocated to the South could not be justified, even if slaves were counted with the three-fifths rule, but North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia insisted on a disproportionate share of representatives. Shifting numbers around within the South was the most they would tolerate without threatening to leave the convention.
The Northern members acquiesced because Virginia had outlawed the slave trade, and Maryland usually voted with the North on commercial matters. The Southern states had acquiesced because of a further promise that would not be disclosed to the rest of the assembly until after the report had been approved.
Madison should have known that Sherman’s newfound cooperative nature was too good to last. “Numbers cannot confuse; they’re absolute.”
Sherman looked up from his reckoning to display a streak of ink across his nose, “What are we talking about?”
“A larger legislature. One hundred and thirty. You must admit that it’s more difficult to corrupt a majority in a large house. It’s base arithmetic.”
“Sixty-five is sufficient,” Sherman said matter-of-factly as he went back to his calculations. “Doubling the number is too expensive. It’s base arithmetic.”
Madison found Sherman exasperating. He looked around for support, but he could see that the other committee members were exhausted and ready to return to their quarters. Pushing the issue further would be an error.
“All right,” Madison said.
“Excellent,” King said, showing more energy that he had in hours. “I move to adjourn.”
Tuesday saw the delegates quibble over the committee report. All day they argued over the number of representatives assigned to each state. Several votes were taken to change the count for this state or that, but every one failed. Finally, unable to alter the allocation, the convention voted nine to two to accept the committee report as submitted.
Madison traded a nod with Sherman as they left the State House.
Randolph opened Wednesday’s session with a proposal to require a periodic census to reassign representatives by state. This was the promised proposition that got the Deep South to agree to shifting representatives away from them to their brethren in Virginia and Maryland.
Mason provided the rationale. “A revision from time to time according to some standard is essential. Today, the North has a right to a majority, but possibly not in the future. Those with power do not release it. If the Southern states increase their population faster than the North, they may complain for generations without redress.”
Pierce Butler then arrogantly violated their agreement. “I insist that blacks count equal with whites and therefore move that the word three-fifths be struck.”
Mason leaped back up, speaking angrily. “I cannot agree to the motion, despite its being favorable to Virginia. It’s wrong and …” Mason paused and then nearly yelled. “I don’t regard Negroes as equal to freemen!”
When Butler declined to argue that blacks were equal to whites, his motion faded as quickly as a snuffed candle.
Sherman supported a census. “At first, I thought we should leave the matter to the legislature, but I’ve been convinced that the method of revising representation must be clearly stated within the Constitution.”
Gouverneur Morris spoke, and Madison discovered that his fear of the West had deep roots. “If the West gets power, they’ll ruin the Atlantic states. Let the representatives set their own membership. Surely, those who come after us can judge the present better than we can judge the future.”
Gorham countered, “If we’re perplexed, how can we expect a biased legislature to settle on a standard? This convention must set the rule.”
Madison put logic back into the disjointed discourse. “The South fears a Northern majority, while the North fears a western majority. To reconcile the inconsistency, it would be necessary to imagine that points of a compass determine human character.
“When commerce is free, labor moves until competition destroys inequalities. For this reason, people swarm to less populous places—from Europe to America, from the Atlantic states to the western frontier. People go where land is cheap and labor dear. Since land has no value without labor, it seems clear that population is a sufficient measure of wealth and should be the sole basis for representation.”
The vote to count slaves in the proportion of three-fifths failed six to four, with Connecticut voting aye. Rutledge exploded. “Some gentlemen wish to deprive the South of any representation for their blacks. If the North means to exclude them altogether, this business is at an end.”
King showed unusual vehemence when he said, “If the South threatens to separate now, does anyone doubt that in the future she’ll do the same? During the coming years, there’ll no time when she’ll not say, do us justice or we’ll separate.”
The session ended on this sour note.
Madison found Gouverneur Morris in the parlor of his home, reading a newspaper. The room displayed geometric patterns in bright yellow, sky blue, and watermelon red in both the carpet and the wallpaper. Madison felt as if he had stepped into a cheery spring day brought indoors.
“Gouverneur, I appreciate your time.”
“I wish I could manufacture a twenty-five-hour day.”
“While you’re at it, please construct an eight-day week.”
“Jefferson called us an assembly of demigods, but evidently God withheld the power to alter time from his diminutive cousins.”
“And for good reason. If we held the power, the convention would change time at every whisper of the wind.”
“True words, my boy. What’s on your mind?”
“How old are you?”
“You came to determine my age?”
“I apologize, but everyone calls me ‘my boy.’ I’m small, but if I’m not mistaken, I’m older than you.”
“No offense, Jemmy. I just meant to be friendly.” Morris folded the paper and dropped it on the floor beside his chair. “I’m thirty-five, by the way.”
“And I thirty-six.”
“I thought you much younger.”
Madison made a dismissive wave with his hand. “I came to talk about your unreasonable stand on the western territories. New states must be admitted on an equal basis.”
“The South believes population will migrate to the sunnier climes, but they’re wrong. Once Congress passes the Northwest Ordinance, the Ohio territories will explode with settlers. You said today that people go where land is cheap, but they want clear title. That’s what this law will accomplish.”
Madison hesitated. “You think the Ohio Valley will be ready for statehood soon?”
“Probably faster than we can finish this interminable convention.”
Madison laughed. “I’ve made better progress with mud up to my axle.”
“Listen, this scheme to resolve the Ohio territories will change the course of the country.”
“New states must be admitted on an equal basis.”
Morris leaned in. “You should spend time on the frontier. They’re not A
mericans. In point of fact, they don’t even speak English.”
“We’ll make them Americans. Just as our forefathers became American. Several delegates at this convention are foreign-born.”
“You’re an idealist.”
Madison started to grow angry. “You won’t budge?”
“I’ll give it some thought.”
“If you come around to my way of thinking, you may call me whatever you want.”
“Then I won’t remain completely immovable, or I’ll have to call you Mr. Madison.”
Pinckney opened Thursday’s session with a new gambit. “South Carolina exported £600,000 sterling last year—all from slave labor. Will she be represented in proportion to this amount? No. Then she shouldn’t be taxed on it. The Constitution must prohibit export taxes.”
Madison’s head jerked up. The South had evidently caucused and decided to insist that the Constitution prohibit export taxes. How much more could they demand?
Ellsworth responded by resurrecting the three-fifths rule with an added caveat that taxation would also be subject to the three-fifths rule. Butler seconded the motion. This told Madison that Connecticut and South Carolina worked together. Was there no end to these side deals?
The convention voted on representation in the lower house, and the committee recommendation passed. The clause provided for a census within six years and every ten years thereafter, and the census would count whites and three-fifths of blacks for the purpose of taxation and representation. While Madison had visited Morris to broker a better deal for new states, others had placed the final seal on the slavery conundrum. Madison suddenly realized that he had unconsciously avoided the subject. Now that he thought about it, he was content that others had wrangled out a solution.
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