CHAPTER III
Ratifications of New Hampshire, Virginia, and New York, with Proposed Amendments.
South Carolina was the eighth State that had ratified the Constitution, and one other only was required for its inauguration. In this posture of affairs the month of May in the year 1788 was closed. An intense interest was to be concentrated into the next two months, which were to decide the question whether the Constitution was ever to be put into operation. The convention of Virginia was to meet on the 2d, and that of New York on the 17th, of June; the convention of New Hampshire stood adjourned to the 18th of the same month. The latter assembly was to meet at Concord, from which place intelligence would reach the Middle and Southern States through Boston and the city of New York. The town of Poughkeepsie, where the convention of New York was to sit, lay about midway between the cities of Albany and New York, on the east bank of the Hudson. The land route from the city of New York to Richmond, where the convention of Virginia was to meet, was of course through the city of Philadelphia. The distance from Concord to Poughkeepsie, through Boston, Springfield, and Hudson, was about two hundred and fifty miles. The distance from Poughkeepsie to Richmond, through the cities of New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore, was about four hundred and fifty miles. The public mails, over any part of these distances, were not carried at a rate of more than fifty miles for each day, and over a large part of them they could not have been carried so fast. The information needed at such a crisis could not wait the slow progress of the public conveyances.
No one could tell how long the conventions of New York and Virginia might be occupied with the momentous question that was to come before them. It was evident, however, that there was to be a great struggle in both of them, and it was extremely important that intelligence of the final action of New Hampshire should be received in both at the earliest practicable moment. For, whatever might be the weight due to the example of New Hampshire under other circumstances, if, before the conventions of New York and Virginia had decided, it should appear that nine States had ratified the Constitution, the course of those bodies might be materially influenced by a fact of so much consequence to the future position of the Union, and to the relations in which those two States were to stand to the new government. It was equally important, too, that whatever might occur in the conventions of New York and Virginia should be known respectively in each of them, as speedily as possible. About the middle of May, therefore, Hamilton arranged with Madison for the transmission of letters between Richmond and Poughkeepsie, by horse expresses; and by the 12th of June he had made a similar arrangement with Rufus King, General Knox, and other Federalists at the East, for the conveyance from Concord to Poughkeepsie of intelligence concerning the result in New Hampshire.
A very full convention of delegates of the people of Virginia assembled at Richmond on the 2d of June, embracing nearly all the most eminent public men of the State, except Washington and Jefferson. All parties felt the weight of responsibility resting upon the State. Every State that had hitherto acted finally on the subject had ratified the Constitution; in three of them it had been adopted unanimously; in several of the others it had been sanctioned by large majorities; and in those in which amendments had been proposed, they had not been made conditions precedent to the adoption. So far, therefore, as the voice of any State had pronounced the Constitution defective, or dangerous to any general or particular interest, the mode of amendment provided by it, to be employed after it had gone into operation, had been relied upon as sufficient and safe. The opposition in Virginia were consequently reduced to this dilemma;—they must either take the responsibility of rejecting the Constitution entirely, or they must assume the equally hazardous responsibility of insisting that the ratification of the State should be given only upon the condition of previous amendments. They were prepared to do both, or either, according to the prospects of success; for their convictions were fixed against the system proposed; their abilities, patriotism, courage, and personal influence were of a high order; and their devotion to what they deemed the interests of Virginia was unquestionable.
They were led, as I have already said they were to be, by Patrick Henry, whose reputation had suffered no abatement since the period when he blazed into the darkened skies of the Revolution,—when his untutored eloquence electrified the heart of Virginia, and became, as has been well said, even "a cause of the national independence."[429] He had held the highest honors of the State, but had retired, poor, and worn down by twenty years of public service, to rescue his private affairs by the practice of a profession which, in some of its duties, he did not love, and for which he had, perhaps, a single qualification in his amazing oratorical powers. His popularity in Virginia was unbounded. It was the popularity that attends genius, when thrown with heart and soul, and with every impulse of its being, into the cause of popular freedom; and it was a popularity in which reverence for the stern independence and the self-sacrificing spirit of the patriot was mingled with admiration for the splendid gifts of oratory which Nature, and Nature alone, had bestowed upon him. But Mr. Henry was rightly appreciated by his contemporaries. They knew that, though a wise man, his wisdom lacked comprehensiveness, and that the mere intensity with which he regarded the ends of public liberty was likely to mislead his judgment as to the means by which it was to be secured and upheld. The chief apprehension of his opponents, on this important occasion, was lest the power of his eloquence over the feelings or prejudices of his auditory might lead the sober reflections of men astray.
He was at this time fifty-two years of age. Although feeling or affecting to feel himself an old and broken man, he was yet undoubtedly master of all his natural powers. Those powers he exerted to the utmost, to defeat the Constitution in the convention of Virginia. He employed every art of his peculiar rhetoric, every resource of invective, of sarcasm, of appeal to the fears of his audience for liberty; every dictate of local prejudice and State pride. But he employed them all with the most sincere conviction that the adoption of the proposed Constitution would be a wrong and dangerous step. Nor is it surprising that he should have so regarded it. He had formed to himself an ideal image which he was fond of describing as the American spirit. This national spirit of liberty, erring perhaps at times, but in the main true to right and justice as well as to freedom, was with him a kind of guardian angel of the republic. He seems to have considered it able to correct its own errors without the aid of any powerful system of general government,—capable of accomplishing in peace all that it had unquestionably effected for the country in war. As he passed out of the troubles and triumphs of the Revolution into the calmer atmosphere of the Confederation, his reliance on this American spirit, and his jealousy for the maxims of public liberty, led him to regard that system as perfect, because it had no direct legislative authority. He could not endure the thought of a government, external to that of Virginia, and yet possessed of the power of direct taxation over the people of the State. He regarded with utter abhorrence the idea of laws binding the people of Virginia by the authority of the people of the United States; and thinking that he saw in the Constitution a purely national and consolidated government, and refusing to see the federal principle which its advocates declared was incorporated in its system of representation, he shut his eyes resolutely upon all the evils and defects of the Confederation, and denounced the new plan as a monstrous departure from the only safe construction of a Union. He belonged, too, to that school of public men—some of whose principles in this respect it is vain to question—who considered a Bill of Rights essential in every republican government that is clothed with powers of direct legislation.
On the first day of the session, at the instance of Mr. Mason, the convention determined not to take a vote upon any question until the whole Constitution had been debated by paragraphs; but the discussions in fact ranged over the whole instrument without any restriction. The opposition was opened by Henry, in a powerful speech of a general nature, in which he demanded the reasons for such a radical change in the character of the general government. That the new plan was a consolidated government, and not a confederacy, he held to be indisputable. The language of the preamble, which said We, the People, and not We, the States, made this perfectly clear. But States were the characteristics and the soul of a confederation. If States were not to be the agents of this new compact, it must be one great, consolidated, national government of the people of all the States. This perilous innovation, altogether beyond the powers of the Convention which had proposed it, had given rise to differences of opinion which had gone to inflammatory resentments in different parts of the country. He denied altogether the existence of any necessity for exposing the public peace to such a hazard.
As soon as Henry had sat down, the Governor, Edmund Randolph, rose, to place himself in a position of some apparent inconsistency. He had, as we have seen, refused to sign the Constitution. On his return to Virginia, he had addressed a long, exculpatory letter to the Speaker of the House of Delegates, giving his reasons for this refusal; which were, in substance, that he considered the Constitution required important amendments, and that, as it would go to the conventions of the States to be accepted or rejected as a whole, without power to amend, he thought that his signature would preclude him from proposing the changes and additions which he deemed essential. This letter had attracted much attention both in and out of Virginia, and Randolph was consequently, up to this moment, regarded as a firm opponent of the Constitution. He chose, however, to incur the charge of that kind of inconsistency which a statesman should never hesitate to commit, when he finds that the public good is no longer consistent with his adherence to a former opinion. He declared that the day of previous amendments had passed. The ratification of the Constitution by eight States had placed Virginia and the country in a critical position. If the Constitution should not be adopted by the number of States required to put it into operation, there could be no Union; and if it were to be ratified by that number, and Virginia were to reject it, she would have at least two States at the south of her which would belong to a confederacy of which she would not be a member. He should, therefore, vote for the unconditional adoption of the Constitution, looking to future amendments, although he had little expectation that they would be made.
This announcement took the opposition by surprise. But they relaxed none of their efforts. They subjected every part of the Constitution to a rigid scrutiny, and to the most subtle course of reasoning, as well as to one which addressed the prejudices of the common mind. Some of the most important only of the topics on which they enlarged can be noticed here.
Their first and chief object was to show that the Constitution presented a national and consolidated government, in the place of the Confederation, and that under such a government the liberties of the people of the States could not be secure. This character of the proposed government Mr. Mason deduced from the power of direct taxation, which, he contended, entirely changed the confederacy into one consolidated government. This power, being at discretion and unrestrained, must carry everything before it. The general government being paramount to, and in every respect more powerful than, the State governments, the latter must give way; for two concurrent powers of direct taxation cannot long exist together. Assuming that taxes were to be levied for the use of the general government, the mode in which they were to be assessed and collected was of the utmost consequence, and it ought not to be surrendered by the people of Virginia to those who had neither a knowledge of their situation nor a common interest with them. He would cheerfully acquiesce in giving an effectual alternative for the power of direct taxation. He would give the general government power to demand their quotas of the States, with an alternative of laying direct taxes in case of non-compliance. The certainty of this conditional power would, in all probability, prevent the application of it, and the sums necessary for the Union would then be raised by the States, and by those who would best know how they could be raised.
Mr. Henry took a broader ground. He argued that the Constitution presented a consolidated government, because it spoke in the name of the People, and not in the name of the States. It was neither a monarchy like England,—a compact between prince and people, with checks on the former to secure the liberty of the latter; nor a confederacy like Holland,—an association of independent States, each retaining its individual sovereignty; nor yet a democracy, in which the people retain securely all their rights. It was an alarming transition from a confederacy to a consolidated government. It was a step as radical as that which separated us from Great Britain. The rights of conscience, trial by jury, liberty of the press, all immunities and franchises, all pretensions to human rights and privileges, were rendered insecure, if not lost, by such a transition. It was said that eight States had adopted it. He declared that, if twelve States and a half had adopted it, he would, with manly firmness, and in spite of an erring world, reject it. "You are not to inquire," said he, "how your trade may be increased, or how you are to become a great and prosperous people, but how your liberties may be secured";—and then, kindling with the old fire of his earlier days, and with the recollection of what he had done and suffered for the liberties of his country, he broke forth in one of his most indignant and impassioned moods.[430]
Madison, always cool, clear, and sensible, answered these objections. He described the new government as having a mixed character. It would be in some respects federal, in others consolidated. The manner in which it was to be ratified established this double character. The parties to it were to be the people, but not the people as composing one great society, but the people as composing thirteen sovereignties. If it were a purely consolidated government, the assent of a majority of the people would be sufficient to establish it. But it was to be binding on the people of a State only by their own separate consent; and if adopted by the people of all the States, it would be a government established, not through the intervention of their legislatures, but by the people at large. In this respect, the distinction between the existing and the proposed governments was very material.
The mode in which the Constitution was to be amended also displayed its mixed character. A majority of the States could not introduce amendments, nor yet were all the States required; three fourths of them must concur in alterations; and this constituted a departure from the federal idea. Again, the members of one branch of the legislature were to be chosen by the people of the States in proportion to their numbers; the members of the other were to be elected by the States in their equal and political capacities. Had the government been completely consolidated, the Senate would have been chosen in the same way as the House; had it been completely federal, the House would have been chosen in the same way as the Senate. Thus it was of a complex nature; and this complexity would be found to exclude the evils of absolute consolidation and the evils of a mere confederacy. Finally, if Virginia were separated from all the States, her power and authority would extend to all cases; in like manner, were all powers vested in the general government, it would be a consolidated government; but the powers of the general government are enumerated; it can only operate in certain cases; it has legislative powers on defined and limited objects, beyond which it cannot extend its jurisdiction.
With respect to the powers proposed to be conferred on the new government, he conceived that the question was whether they were necessary. If they were, Virginia was reduced to the dilemma of either submitting to the inconvenience which the surrender of those powers might occasion, or of losing the Union. He then proceeded to show the necessity for the power of direct taxation; and in answer to the apprehended danger arising from this power united with the consolidated nature of the government,—thus giving it a tendency to destroy all subordinate or separate authority of the States,—he admitted that, if the general government were wholly independent of the governments of the States, usurpation might be expected to the fullest extent; but as it was not so independent, but derived its authority partly from those governments, and partly from the people,—the same source of power,—there was no danger that it would destroy the State governments.
In this manner, extending to all the details of the Constitution, the discussion proceeded for nearly a week, the opposition aiming to show that at every point it exposed the liberties of the people to great hazards; Henry sustaining nearly the whole burden of the argument on that side, and fighting with great vigor against great odds.[431] At length, finding himself sorely pressed, he took advantage of an allusion made by his opponents to the debts due from the United States to France, to introduce the name of Jefferson.
"I might," said he, "not from public authority, but from good information, tell you that his opinion is that you reject this government. His character and abilities are in the highest estimation; he is well acquainted in every respect with this country; equally so with the policy of the European nations. This illustrious citizen advises you to reject this government till it be amended. His sentiments coincide entirely with ours. His attachment to, and services done for, this country are well known. At a great distance from us, he remembers and studies our happiness. Living in splendor and dissipation, he thinks yet of Bills of Rights,—thinks of those little, despised things called maxims. Let us follow the sage advice of this common friend of our happiness."[432]
At the time when Mr. Henry made this statement, he had seen a letter written by Mr. Jefferson from Paris, in the preceding February, which was much circulated among the opposition in Virginia, and in which Mr. Jefferson had expressed the hope that the first nine conventions might accept the Constitution, and the remaining four might refuse it, until a Declaration of Rights had been annexed to it.[433] Mr. Henry chose to construe this into an advice to Virginia to reject the Constitution. But this use of Mr. Jefferson's opinion was not strictly justifiable, since Virginia, in the actual order of events, might be the ninth State to act; for the convention of New Hampshire was not to reassemble until nearly three weeks after the first meeting of that of Virginia, in which Mr. Henry was then speaking. The friends of the Constitution, therefore, became somewhat restive under this attempt to employ the influence of Jefferson against them. Without saying anything disrespectful of him, but, on the contrary, speaking of him in the highest terms of praise and honor, they complained of the impropriety of introducing his opinion,—saying that, if the opinions of important men not within that convention were to govern its deliberations, they could adduce a name at least equally great on their side;[434] and they then contended that Mr. Jefferson's letter did not admit of the application that had been given to it.[435] But the truth was, that the assertions of his opponents respecting New Hampshire, and the ambiguous form of Mr. Jefferson's opinion, gave Henry all the opportunity he wanted to employ that opinion for the purpose for which he introduced it. "You say," said he, "that you are absolutely certain New Hampshire will adopt this government. Then she will be the ninth State; and if Mr. Jefferson's advice is of any value, and this system requires amendments, we, who are to be one of the four remaining States, ought to reject it until amendments are obtained."[436]
Notwithstanding the efforts of Madison to counteract this artifice, it gave the opposition great strength, because it enabled them to throw the whole weight of their arguments against the alleged defects and dangers of the Constitution into the scale of an absolute rejection. Mr. Jefferson's subsequent opinion, formed after he had received intelligence of the course of Massachusetts, had not then been received, and indeed did not reach this country until after the convention of Virginia had acted.[437] The opposition went on, therefore, with renewed vigor, to attack the Constitution in every part which they considered vulnerable.
Among the topics on which they expended a great deal of force was that of the navigation of the Mississippi. They employed this subject for the purpose of influencing the votes of members who represented the interests of that part of Virginia which is now Kentucky. They first extorted from Madison, and other gentlemen, who had been in the Congress of the Confederation, a statement of the negotiations which had nearly resulted in a temporary surrender of the right in the Mississippi to Spain.[438] They then made use of the following argument. It had appeared, they said, from those transactions, that the Northern and Middle States, seven in number,[439] were in favor of bartering away this great interest for commercial privileges and advantages; that those States, particularly the Eastern ones, would be influenced further by a desire to suppress the growth of new States in the Western country, and to prevent the emigration of their own people thither, as a means of retaining the power of governing the Union; and that the surrender of the Mississippi could be made by treaty, under the Constitution, by the will of the President and the votes of ten Senators,[440] whereas, under the Confederation, it never could be done without the votes of nine States in Congress.
It must be allowed that there had been much in the history of this matter on which harsh reflections could be made by both sections of the Union. But it was not correct to represent the Eastern and Middle States as animated by a desire to prevent the settlement of the Western country, or to say that they would be ready at any time to barter away the right in the Mississippi. Seven of the States had consented, in a time of war and of great peril, to the proposal of a temporary surrender of the right to Spain, just when it was supposed that negotiations between Spain and Great Britain might result in a coalition which would deprive us of the river for ever, and when it was thought that a temporary cession would fix the permanent right in our favor.[441] This was undoubtedly an error; but it was one from which the country had been saved, by the disputes which arose respecting the constitutional power of seven States to give instructions for a treaty, and by the prospect of a reconstruction of the general government.[442] Now, therefore, that an entirely new constitutional system had been prepared, the real question, in relation to this very important subject, was one of a twofold character. It involved, first, the moral probabilities respecting the wishes and policy of a majority of the States; and, secondly, a comparison of the means afforded by the Constitution for protecting the national right to the Mississippi, with those afforded by the Confederation,—assuming that any State or States might wish to surrender it.
Upon this question Mr. Madison made an answer to the opposition, which shows how accurately he foresaw the relations between the western and the eastern portions of the Union, and how justly he estimated the future working of the Constitution with respect to the preservation of the Mississippi, or any other national right.
If interest alone, he said, were to govern the Eastern States, they must derive greater advantage from holding the Mississippi than even the Southern States; for if the carrying trade were their natural province, it must depend mainly on agriculture for its support, and agriculture was to be the great employment of the Western country. But in addition to this security of local interest, the Constitution would make it necessary for two thirds of all the Senators present—and those present would represent all the States, if all attended to their duty—to concur in every treaty. The President, who would represent the people at large, must also concur. In the House of Representatives, the landed, rather than the commercial interest, would predominate; and the House of Representatives, although not to be directly concerned in the making of treaties, would have an important influence in the government. A weak system had produced the project of surrendering the Mississippi; a strong one would remove the inducement.[443]
In the midst of these discussions, and while the opposition were making every effort to protract them until the 23d of June,—when the assembling of the legislature would afford a colorable pretext for an adjournment,—Colonel Oswald of Philadelphia arrived at Richmond, with letters from the Anti-Federalists of New York and Pennsylvania to the leaders of that party at Richmond, for the purpose of concerting a plan for the postponement of the decision of Virginia until after the meeting of the convention of New York. It was supposed that, if this could be effected, the opponents of the Constitution in New York would be able to make some overture to the opposition in Virginia, for the same course of action in both States. If this could not be brought about, it was considered by the opposition at Richmond that the chances of obtaining a vote for previous amendments would be materially increased by delay. The parties in their convention were nearly balanced, at this time. Mr. Madison estimated the Federal majority at not more than three or four votes, if indeed the Federalists had a majority, on the 17th of June, the day on which the convention of New York was to meet.[444]
But we must now leave the convention of Virginia, and turn our eyes to the pleasant village on the banks of the Hudson, where the convention of New York was already assembling. Hamilton was there, and was its leading spirit. How vigilant and thoughtful he was, we know;—sometimes watching for the messenger who might descend the eastern hills with reports from New Hampshire,—sometimes turning to the South and listening for the footfall of his couriers from Virginia;—but always preparing to meet difficulties, always ready to contest every inch of ground, and never losing sight of the great end to be accomplished. The hours were slow and heavy to him. The lines of horse-expresses which he had so carefully adjusted, and at whose intersection he stood to collect the momentous intelligence they would bring him, were indeed a marvel of enterprise at that day; but how unlike were they to the metallic lines that now daily gather for us, from all the ends of the land and with the speed of lightning, minute notices of the most trivial or the most important events! Still, such as his apparatus was, it was all that could be had; and he awaited, alike with a firm patience and a faithful hope, for the decisive results. Even at this distance of time, we share the fluctuations of his anxious spirit, and our patriotism is quickened by our sympathy.
Rarely, indeed, if ever, was there a statesman having more at stake in what he could not personally control, or greater cause for solicitude concerning the public weal of his own times or that of future ages, than Hamilton now had. His own prospects of usefulness, according to the principles which had long guided him, and the happiness or the misery of his country, were all, as he was deeply convinced, involved in what might happen within any hour of those few eventful days. The rejection of the Constitution by Virginia would, in all probability, cause its rejection by New York. Its rejection by those States would, as he sincerely believed, be followed by eventual disunion and civil war. But if the Constitution could be established, he could see the way open to the happiness and welfare of the whole Union; for although it was not in all respects the system that he would have preferred, he had shown, in the Federalist, how profoundly he understood its bearing upon the interests of the country, into what harmony he could bring its various provisions, and what powerful aid he could give in adjusting it into its delicate relations to the States. He had, too, already conceived the hope that its early administration might be undertaken by Washington; and with the government in the hands of Washington, Hamilton could foresee the success which to us is now historical.
To say that Hamilton was ambitious, is to say that he was human; and he was by no means free from human imperfections. But his was the ambition of a great mind, regulated by principle, and made incapable, by the force and nature of his convictions, of seeking personal aggrandizement through any course of public policy of which those convictions were not the mainspring and the life. In no degree is the character of any other American statesman undervalued or disparaged, when I insist on the importance to all America, through all time, of Hamilton's public character and conduct in this respect. It was because his future opportunities for personal distinction and usefulness were now evidently at stake in the success of a system that would admit of the exercise of his great powers in the service of the country,—a system that would afford at once a field for their exercise and for the application of his political principles,—and because he could neither seek nor find distinction in a line of politics which tended to disunion,—that his position at this time is so interesting and important. As a citizen of New York, too, his position was personally critical. He had carried on a vigorous contest with the opponents of the Constitution in that State; he had encountered obloquy and misrepresentation and rancor,—perhaps he had provoked them. He had told the people of the State, for years, that they had listened to wrong counsels, when they had lent themselves to measures that retarded the growth of a national spirit and an efficient general government. The correctness of his judgment was now, therefore, openly and palpably in the issue. His public policy, with reference to the relations of the State to the Union, was now to stand, or to fall, with the Constitution proposed.
When he entered the convention of the State, he was convinced that the Anti-Federalists were determined that New York should not become a member of the new Union, whatever might be done by the other States.[445] He had also received information, which led him to believe that the Governor, Clinton, had in conversation declared the Union unnecessary; but of this, if true, he could make no public use. His suspicions were certainly justified by the tendency of the arguments made use of by the opposition, during the few first days of the session; for it was the tendency of those arguments to maintain the idea that New York could very well stand alone, even if the Constitution should be established by nine States, she refusing to be one of them. With this view, they pressed the consideration under which they had all along acted, that the Confederation, if amended, would be sufficient for all the proper purposes of a general government; and their plan for such an amendment of the Confederation was, to provide that its requisitions for money should continue to be made as they had been, and that Congress should have the new power of compelling payment by force, when a State had refused to comply with a requisition.
Hamilton answered this suggestion with great energy. It is inseparable, he said, from the disposition of bodies which have a constitutional power of resistance, to inquire into the merits of a law. This had ever been the case with the federal requisitions. In this examination, the States, unfurnished with the lights which directed the deliberations of the general government, and incapable of embracing the general interests of the Union, had almost uniformly weighed the requisitions by their own local interests, and had only executed them so far as answered their particular convenience or advantage. But if we have national objects to pursue, we must have national revenues. If requisitions are made and are not complied with, what is to be done? To coerce the States would be one of the maddest projects ever devised. No State would ever suffer itself to be used as the instrument of coercing another. A federal standing army, then, must enforce the requisitions, or the federal treasury would be left without supplies and the government without support. There could be no cure for this great evil, but to enable the national laws to operate on individuals, like the laws of the States. To take the old Confederation as the basis of a new system, and to trust the sword and the purse to a single assembly organized upon principles so defective,—giving it the full powers of taxation and the national forces,—would be to establish a despotism. These considerations showed clearly that a totally different government, with proper powers and proper checks and balances, must be established.
The convention soon afterwards passed to an animated discussion on the system of representation proposed in the Constitution, and while an amendment relating to the Senate was pending, on the 24th of June, Hamilton received intelligence from the East, that on the 21st the convention of New Hampshire had ratified the Constitution. Up to this moment, the opposition, while disclaiming earnestly all wish to bring about a dissolution of the Union, or to prevent the establishment of some firm and efficient government, had still continued, in every form, to press a line of argument which tended to produce the rejection of the Constitution proposed; and it was evident that their opponents could throw upon them the responsibility of a dissolution of the Union only by a deduction from the tendency of their reasoning. But now that the Constitution had been adopted by the number of States which its provisions required for its establishment, the Federalists determined that the opposition should publicly meet the issue raised by the new aspect of affairs, which was to determine whether the State of New York should or should not place itself out of the pale of the new confederacy,—whether it should or should not stand in a hostile attitude towards the nine States which had thus signified their determination to institute a new government. Accordingly, on the next day, Chancellor Livingston formally announced in the convention the intelligence that had been received from New Hampshire, which, he said, had evidently changed the circumstances of the country and the ground of the present debate. He declared that the Confederation was now dissolved. Would they consider the situation of their country? However some might contemplate disunion without pain, or flatter themselves that some of the Southern States would form a league with them, he could not look without horror at the dangers to which any such confederacy would expose the State of New York.
This dilemma embarrassed, but did not subdue, the opposition. They reiterated their denial of a purpose to produce a dissolution of the Union, doubtless with entire sincerity; but they continued the argument which was designed to show that the State ought not to adopt a system dangerous to liberty, under a fear of the situation in which it might be placed.
Here, then, the reader should pause for a moment, in order to form a just appreciation of the course pursued by Hamilton, in this altered aspect of affairs, when nothing remained to be done but to get the State of New York, if possible, into the new Union. We have now the means of knowing precisely how he estimated the chances of succeeding in this effort. On the 27th, while the discussion was still going on, he wrote to Madison as follows: "There are some slight symptoms of relaxation in some of the leaders, which authorizes a gleam of hope, if you do well; but certainly I think not otherwise."[446] At the same time, we know that his latest news from Virginia was not encouraging.[447]
How easy, then, perhaps natural, it would have been for him to have abandoned this "gleam of hope,"—to have turned his back upon the State and all its cabals,—to have left the Anti-Federalists to determine the fate of New York, and to have transferred himself to what was then the larger community, the great State of Pennsylvania, or to any of the other States which had adopted the Constitution! He must have been received anywhere with the consideration due to his high reputation, his abilities, his public services, and his acknowledged patriotism. He must have been regarded, in any State that had accepted the new government, as a person whose assistance was indispensable to its success; and so he would have been looked upon by the main body of the people throughout the new confederacy. He had no ties of office to bind him to the State of New York. He held one of her seats in the Congress of the Confederation, but that was a body which must soon cease to exist. His political opponents had an undoubted majority in the State. The social ties which had bound him to her soil could have been severed. He could have left her, therefore, to the counsels of his adversaries, and could have sought and found for himself a career of ambition in the new sphere that was open to receive him. That career would have tempted men of an inferior mould, and would have seen them yield to the temptation perhaps the more readily, because the conflicts that would have been inevitable between rival confederacies would have presented fresh fields for exertion and personal energy, new excitements and new adventures. It is, too, a mournfully interesting reflection, that if Hamilton had then cut himself free from the entanglements of the local politics of New York by a change of residence, he probably could never have been drawn into that miserable quarrel with the wretch who in after years planned his destruction, and who gained by it the execrable distinction of having taken the most important life that has ever fallen by the assassination of the duel, since its opportunities for murder have been known among men.
But with whatever melancholy interest we may pursue such a suggestion of what Hamilton might have done, it needs but to be made, in order to show how far he stood above the reach of such a temptation. From his first entrance, in boyhood, into public life, his patriotism had comprehended nothing less than the whole of the United States. Whatever may be thought of his policy, either before or after the Constitution was established, no just man will deny its comprehensive nationality. He now saw that no partial confederacy of the States could be of any permanent value. He had no favorite theories involved in the Constitution, no peculiar experiments that he wished to try. He embraced it, because he believed in its capacity to unite the whole of the States, to concentrate and harmonize their interests, and to accomplish national objects of the utmost importance to their welfare. It could, without doubt, be inaugurated and put into operation without the concurrence of New York. But to leave that, or any other State near the geographical centre of the Union, out of the confederacy, would be to leave its sovereignty and rights exposed to perpetual collision with the new government. No public or private purpose could have induced Hamilton to abandon any effort that might prevent such a result. He still labored, therefore, with those who were associated with him, to procure an adoption of the Constitution by the State of New York; and we must bear in mind the vast importance of her action, and the difficulties with which he had to contend, that we may take a just view of the concessions to the opposition which he seems at one stage of the crisis to have been obliged to consider.
But we must now leave him in the midst of the embarrassments by which he was surrounded, to follow his messenger, whom he instantly despatched, on the 24th, with letters to Madison at Richmond, announcing the news of the ratification by New Hampshire. The courier passed through the city of New York on the 25th, and reached Philadelphia on the 26th. The newspapers of the latter city immediately cried out, "The reign of anarchy is over," and the popular enthusiasm rose to the highest point. The courier passed on to the South; but the convention of Virginia had, in fact, ratified the Constitution before he arrived in Philadelphia. Thus, while New Hampshire, in the actual order of events, was the ninth State to adopt the Constitution, yet Virginia herself, so far as the members of her convention were informed, appeared at the time of their voting to be the ninth adopting State. It is certain that they acted without any real knowledge of what had taken place in New Hampshire, although there may have been random assertions of what nobody at Richmond could then have known.[448]
The result was brought about in Virginia by the force of argument, and because the friends of the Constitution were at last able to reduce the issue to the single question of previous or subsequent, that is, of conditional or recommendatory, amendments. As the State appeared likely to be the ninth State to act, and they could insist that, if she rejected the Constitution, she must bear the responsibility of defeating the establishment of the new government,—a consequence which they could reasonably predict,—they had a high vantage-ground from which to address the reason and patriotism of the assembly.
Henry and the other leaders of the opposition fought valiantly to the last. When the whole subject had been exhausted, the friends of the Constitution presented the propositions on which they were willing to rest the action of the State, and which declared, in substance, that the powers granted under the proposed Constitution are the gift of the people, and that every power not granted thereby remains with them, and at their will,—consequently that no right can be abridged, restrained, or modified by the general government or any of its departments, except in those instances in which power is given by the Constitution for those purposes; and that, among other essential rights, liberty of conscience and of the press cannot be cancelled, abridged, restrained, or modified, by any authority of the United States; that the Constitution ought, therefore, to be ratified, but that whatsoever amendments might be deemed necessary ought to be recommended to the consideration of the first Congress that should assemble under the Constitution, to be acted upon according to the mode prescribed therein.
Mr. Henry, on the other hand, brought forward a counter project, by which he proposed to declare that, previous to the ratification of the Constitution, a Declaration of Rights, asserting and securing from encroachment the great principles of civil and religious liberty, and the inalienable rights of the people, together with amendments to the most exceptionable parts of the Constitution, ought to be referred by the convention of Virginia to the other States in the American confederacy for their consideration.
The issue was thus distinctly made between previous or conditional and subsequent or unconditional amendments, and made in a form most favorable to the friends of the Constitution; for it enabled them to present so vigorously and vividly the consequences of suspending the inauguration of the new government until the other States could consider the amendments desired by Virginia, that they procured a rejection of Mr. Henry's resolution by a majority of eight, and a ratification of the Constitution by a majority of ten votes. A long list of amendments, together with a Bill of Rights, was then adopted, to be presented to Congress for its consideration.[449]
The conduct of Mr. Henry, when he saw that the adoption of the Constitution was inevitable, was all that might have been expected from his patriotic and unselfish character. "If I shall be in the minority," he said, "I shall have those painful sensations which arise from a conviction of being overpowered in a good cause. Yet I will be a peaceable citizen. My head, my hand, and my heart shall be free to retrieve the loss of liberty, and remove the defects of this system in a constitutional way. I wish not to go to violence, but will wait with hopes that the spirit which predominated in the Revolution is not yet gone, nor the cause of those who are attached to the Revolution yet lost. I shall, therefore, patiently wait in expectation of seeing this government so changed as to be compatible with the safety, liberty, and happiness of the people."[450] This noble and disinterested patriot lived to find the Constitution all that he wished it to be, and to enroll himself, in the day of its first serious trial, among its most vigorous and earnest defenders.
But some of the members of the opposition were not so discreet. Immediately after the adjournment of the convention, they prepared an address to the people, intended to produce an effort to prevent the inauguration of the new government by a combined arrangement among the legislatures of the several States. But this paper, which never saw the light, was rejected by their own party, and the opposition in Virginia subsided into a general acquiescence in the action of the convention.[451]
The ratification of Virginia took place on the 25th of June; the news of this event was received and published in Philadelphia on the 2d of July. The press of the city was at once filled with rejoicings over the action of Virginia. She was the tenth pillar of the temple of liberty. She was Virginia,—eldest and foremost of the States,—land of statesmen whose Revolutionary services were as household words in all America,—birthplace and home of Washington! We need not wonder, when she had come so tardily, so cautiously, into the support of the Constitution, that men should have hailed her accession with enthusiasm. The people of Philadelphia had been for some time preparing a public demonstration, in honor of the adoption of the Constitution by nine States. Now that Virginia was added to the number, they determined that all possible magnificence and splendor should be given to this celebration, and they chose for it the anniversary day of the National Independence.
A taste for allegory appears to have been quite prevalent among the people of the United States at this period. Accordingly, the Philadelphia procession of July 4, 1788, was filled with elaborate and emblematic representations. It was a long pageant of banners, of trades, and devices. A decorated car bore the Constitution framed as a banner and hung upon a staff. Then another decorated car carried the American flag and the flags of all friendly nations. Then followed the judges in their robes, and all the public bodies, preceding a grand federal edifice, which was carried on a carriage drawn by ten horses. On the floor of this edifice were seated, in chairs, ten gentlemen, representing the citizens of the United States at large, to whom the Federal Constitution had been committed before its ratification. When it arrived at "Union Green," they gave up their seats to ten others representing the ten States which had ratified the instrument. The federal ship, "The Union," came next, followed by all the trades, plying their various crafts upon elevated platforms, with their several emblems and mottoes, strongly expressing confidence in the protection that would be afforded under the Constitution to all the forms of American manufactures and mechanic arts. Ten vessels paraded on the Delaware, each with a broad white flag at its masthead, bearing the name of one of the ten States in gold letters; and, as if to combine the ideas both of the absence and the presence of the ten States, ten carrier-pigeons were let off from the printers' platform, each with a small package bearing "the ode of the day" to one of the ten rejoicing and sympathizing States.
Thus did ingenuity and mechanical skill exert themselves in quaint devices and exhibitions, to portray, to personify, and to celebrate the vast social consequences of an event which had then no parallel in the history of any other country,—the free and voluntary adoption by the people of a written constitution of government framed by the agents and representatives of the people themselves. The carrier birds are not known to have literally performed their tasks, but as rapidly as horse and man could carry it, the news from Virginia pressed on to the North, and reached Hamilton at Poughkeepsie on the 8th of July.
It found him still surrounded by the same difficulties that existed when he received the result of the convention of New Hampshire. The opposition had relaxed none of their efforts to prevent the adoption of the Constitution; they had only become somewhat divided respecting the method to be pursued for its defeat. Some of them were in favor of conditions precedent, or previous amendments; some, of conditions subsequent, or the proposal of amendments upon the condition that, if they should not be adopted within a certain time, the State should be at liberty to withdraw from the Union; and all of them were determined, in case the Constitution should be ratified, to carry constructive declarations of its meaning and powers as far as possible. Hamilton was conscious that the chief danger to which the Constitution itself was now exposed, was that a general concurrence in injudicious recommendations might seriously wound its power of taxation, by causing a recurrence, in some shape, to the system of requisitions. The danger to which the State of New York was exposed, was that it might not become a member of the new Union, in any form.
The leading Federalists who were united with Hamilton in the effort to prevent such a disastrous issue of this convention were John Jay, the Chancellor Robert R. Livingston, and James Duane. A few days after the intelligence from New Hampshire was received, these gentlemen held a consultation as to the most effectual method of encountering the objections made to the general power of taxation that would be conferred by the Constitution upon the general government. The legislative history of the State, from 1780 to 1782, embraced a series of official acts and documents, showing that the State had been compelled to sustain a very large share of the burden of the Revolutionary war; that requisitions had been unable to call forth the resources of the country; and that, in the judgment of the State, officially and solemnly declared in 1782, and concurred in by those who now resisted the establishment of the Constitution, it was necessary that the Union should possess other sources of revenue. The Federalists now resolved that these documents be formally laid before the convention, and Hamilton undertook to bring them forward.
On the 27th of June, he commenced the most elaborate and important of the speeches which he made in this assembly, for the purpose of showing that in the construction of a government the great objects to be attained are a free and pure representation, and a proper balance between the different branches of administration; and that when these are obtained, all the powers necessary to answer, in the most ample manner, the purposes of government, may be bestowed with entire safety. He proceeded to argue, not only that a general power of taxation was essential, but that, under a system so complex as that of the Constitution,—so skilfully endowed with the requisite forms of representation and division of executive and legislative power,—it was next to impossible that this authority should be abused. In the course of this speech, and for the purpose of showing that the State had suffered great distresses during the war from the mode of raising revenues by requisitions, he called for the reading at the clerk's table of a series of documents exhibiting this fact. Governor Clinton resisted their introduction, but they were read; and Hamilton and his friends then contended, that they proved beyond dispute that the State had once been in great peril for want of an energetic general government.
This movement produced a warm altercation between the leading gentlemen on the opposite sides of the house. But while it threw a grave responsibility upon the opposition, it did not conquer them; and by the day on which the intelligence from Virginia arrived, they had heaped amendments upon the table on almost every clause and feature of the Constitution, some one or more of which it was highly probable they would succeed in making a condition of its acceptance.
This critical situation of affairs led Hamilton to consider, for a short time, whether it might not be necessary to accede to a plan, by which the State should reserve the right to recede from the Union, in case its amendments should not have been decided upon, in one of the modes pointed out by the Constitution, within five or six years. He saw the objections to this course; and he was determined to leave no effort untried to bring the opposition to an unqualified ratification. But the danger of a rejection of the Constitution was extreme; and as a choice of evils, he thought that, if the State could in the first instance be received into the Union under such a reserved right to withdraw, succeeding events, by the adoption of all proper and necessary amendments, would make the reservation unimportant, because such amendments would satisfy the more reasonable part of the opposition, and would thus break up their party. But he determined not to incur the hazard of this step upon his own judgment alone, or that of any one else having a personal interest in the question; and accordingly, on the 12th of July, he despatched a letter to Madison, who was then attending in Congress at the city of New York, asking his opinion upon the possibility of receiving the State into the Union in this form.[452]
Madison instantly replied, that, in his opinion, this would be a conditional ratification, and would not make the State of New York a member of the new Union; that the Constitution required an adoption in toto and for ever; and that any condition must vitiate the ratification of any State.[453]
Before this reply could have been received at Poughkeepsie, the Federalists had introduced their proposition for an unconditional ratification, and this was followed by that of the Anti-Federalists for a conditional one. The former was rejected by the convention on the 16th of July. The opposition then brought forward a new form of conditional ratification, with a Bill of Rights prefixed, and with amendments subjoined. After a long debate, the Federalists succeeded, on the 23d of July, in procuring a vote to change this proposition, so that, in place of the words "on condition," the people of the State would be made to declare that they assented to and ratified the Constitution "in full confidence" that, until a general convention should be called for proposing amendments, Congress would not exercise certain powers which the Constitution conferred upon them. This alteration was carried by thirty-one votes against twenty-seven. A list of amendments was then agreed upon, and a circular letter was adopted, to be sent to all the States, recommending a general convention; and on Saturday, the 26th of July, the ratification, as thus framed, with the Bill of Rights and the amendments, was carried by thirty affirmative against twenty-seven negative votes.[454]
By this slender majority of her delegates, and under circumstances of extreme peril of an opposite decision, did the State of New York accept the Constitution of the United States, and become a member of the new government. The facts of the case, and the importance of her being brought into the new Union, afford a sufficient vindication of the course pursued by the Federalists in her convention. But it is necessary, before closing the history of these events, to consider a complaint that was made at the time, by some of the most zealous of their political associates in other quarters, and which touched the correctness of their motives in assenting to the circular letter demanding a general convention for the amendment of the Constitution.
That there was danger lest another general convention might result in serious injury to the Constitution, perhaps in its overthrow, was a point on which there was probably no difference of opinion among the Federalists of that day. Washington regarded it in this light; and there is no reason to doubt that Hamilton and Jay, and many others of the friends of the Constitution, would have felt great anxiety about its result. But there were some members of the Federal party, in several of the States, who do not seem to have fully appreciated the importance of conceding to the opposition, at the time of the adoption of the Constitution, the use of any and every form of obtaining amendments which the Constitution itself recognized. This was true everywhere, where serious dissatisfaction existed, and it was especially true in the State of New York. It was impossible to procure a ratification in that State, without an equivalent concession; and if the Federal leaders in that convention assented to the proposal of a course of amending the Constitution for which the instrument itself provided, however ineligible it might be, their justification is to be found in the circumstances of their situation. Washington himself, when all was over, wrote to Mr. Jay as follows:—"Although I could scarcely conceive it possible, after ten States had adopted the Constitution, that New York, separated as it is from the others, and peculiarly divided in sentiments as it is, would withdraw from the Union, yet, considering the great majority which appeared to cling together in the convention, and the decided temper of the leaders, I did not, I confess, see how it was to be avoided. The exertion of those who were able to effect this great work must have been equally arduous and meritorious."[455]
But others were not so just. The Federalists of the New York convention were complained of by some of their friends for having assented to the circular letter, for the purpose of procuring a ratification at any price, in order to secure the establishment of the new government at the city of New York. It was said that the State had better have remained out of the Union, than to have taken a course which would prove more injurious than her rejection would have done.[456]
With respect to these complaints and the accompanying charge, it is only necessary to say, in the first place, that Hamilton and Jay and their associates believed that there was far less danger to be apprehended from a mere call for a second general convention, than from a rejection of the Constitution by the State of New York; and they had to choose between these alternatives. The result shows that they chose rightly; for the assembling of a general convention was superseded by the action of Congress upon the amendments proposed by the States. In the second place, the alleged motive did not exist. We now know that Hamilton certainly, and we may presume his friends also, did not expect or desire the new government to be more than temporarily placed at the city of New York. He himself saw the impolicy of establishing it permanently either at that place or at Philadelphia. He regarded its temporary establishment at the city of New York as the certain means of carrying it farther south, and of securing its final and permanent place somewhere upon the banks of the Delaware within the limits of New Jersey, or upon the banks of the Potomac within the limits of Virginia.[457]
The people of the city of New York had waited long for the decision of their State convention. They had postponed several times their intended celebration in honor of the Constitution, which, as it was to be the last, they determined should be the most imposing of these ceremonies. When the day at length came, on the 5th of August, 1788, it saw a population whose mutual confidence and joy had absorbed every narrow and bigoted distinction in that noblest of all the passions that a people can exhibit,—love of country. It were a vain and invidious task to attempt to determine, from the contemporary descriptions, whether this display exceeded that of all the other cities in variety and extent. But there was one feature of it so striking, so creditable to the people of the city of New York, that it should not be passed over. It consisted in the honors they paid to Hamilton.
He must have experienced on that day the best reward that a statesman can ever find; for there is no purer, no higher pleasure for a conscientious statesman, than to know, by demonstrations of public gratitude, that the humblest of the people for whose welfare he has labored appreciate and are thankful for his services. Public life is often represented, and often found, to be a thankless sphere, for men of the greatest capacity and the highest patriotism; and the accidents, the defeats, the changes, the party passions and obstructions of the political world, in a free government, frequently make it so. But mankind are neither deliberately heartless nor systematically unthankful; and it has sometimes happened, in popular governments, that statesmen of the first order of mind and character have, while living, received the most unequivocal proofs of feeling directly from the popular heart, while the sum total of their lives appears in history to be wanting in evidences of that personal success which is attained in a constant triumph over opponents. Such an expression of popular gratitude and sympathy it was now the fortune of Hamilton to receive.
The people of the city did not stop to consider, on this occasion, whether he was entitled, in comparison with all the other public men in the United States, to be regarded as the chief author of the blessings which they now anticipated from the Constitution. And why should they? He was their fellow-citizen,—their own. They remembered the day when they saw him, a mere boy, training his artillerymen in their public park, for the coming battles of the Revolution. They remembered the youthful eloquence and the more than youthful power with which he encountered the pestilent and slavish doctrines of their Tories. They thought of his career in the army, when the extraordinary maturity, depth, and vigor of his genius, and his great accomplishments, supplied to Washington, in some of the most trying periods of his vast and prolonged responsibility, the assistance that Washington most needed. They recollected his career in Congress, when his comprehensive intellect was always alert, to bear the country forward to measures and ideas that would concentrate its powers and resources in some national system. They called to mind how he had kept their own State from wandering quite away into the paths of disunion,—how he had enlightened, invigorated, and purified public opinion by his wise and energetic counsels,—how he had led them to understand the true happiness and glory of their country,—how he had labored to bring about those events which had now produced the Constitution,—how he had shown to them the harmony and success that might be predicted of its operation, and had taught them to accept what was good, without petulantly demanding what individual opinion might claim as perfect.
What was it to them, therefore, on this day of public rejoicing, that there might be in his policy more of consolidation than in the policy of others,—that he was said to have in his politics too much that was national and too little that was local,—that some had done as much as he in the actual construction of the system which they were now to celebrate? Such controversies might be for history, or for the contests of administration that were soon to arise. On this day, they were driven out of men's thoughts by the glow of that public enthusiasm which banishes the spirit of party, and touches and opens the inmost fountains of patriotism. Hamilton had rendered a series of great services to his country, which had culminated in the adoption of the Constitution by the State of New York; and they were now acknowledged from the very hearts of those who best knew his motives and best understood his character.
The people themselves, divided into their respective trades, evidently undertook the demonstrations in his honor, and gave them an emphasis which they could have derived from no other source. They bore his image aloft upon banners. They placed the Constitution in his right hand, and the Confederation in his left. They depicted Fame, with her trumpet, crowning him with laurels. They emblazoned his name upon the miniature frigate, the federal ship of state. They anticipated the administration of the first President, by uniting on the national flag the figure of Washington and the figure of Hamilton.[458] All that ingenuity, all that affection, that popular pride and gratitude could do, to honor a public benefactor, was repeated again and again through the long line of five thousand citizens, of all orders and conditions, which stretched away from the shores of that beautiful bay, where ocean ascends into river and river is lost in ocean,—where Commerce then wore her holiday attire, to prefigure the magnificence and power which she was to derive from the Constitution of the United States.