From the first the Constitutionalists displayed better tactics and discipline than their opponents, just as they had shown greater skill and astuteness in selecting candidates for election. They arranged everything beforehand and carried their plans out with precision. For the important position of President of the Convention, they agreed on the venerable Chancellor, Edmund Pendleton, who was able, judicial, and universally respected. He was nominated by his associate, Judge Paul Carrington, and unanimously elected.[1149]
In the same way, Wythe, who was learned, trusted, and beloved, and who had been the teacher of many members of the Convention, was made Chairman of the Committee of the Whole. The Anti-Constitutionalists did not dare to oppose either Pendleton or Wythe for these strategic places. They had made the mistake of not agreeing among themselves on strong and influential candidates for these offices and of nominating them before the Constitutionalists acted. For the first time in Virginia's history, a shorthand reporter, David Robertson, appeared to take down a stenographic report of the debates; and this innovation was bitterly resented and resisted by the opposition[1150] as a Constitutionalist maneuver.[1151] Marshall was appointed a member of the committee[1152] which examined the returns of the elections of members and also heard several contested election cases.[1153]
GEORGE WYTHE
At the beginning the Anti-Constitutionalists did not decide upon a plan of action—did not carefully weigh their course of procedure. No sooner had rules been adopted, and the Constitution and official documents relating to it laid before the Convention, than their second tactical mistake was made; and made by one of their very ablest and most accomplished leaders. When George Mason arose, everybody knew that the foes of the Constitution were about to develop the first move in their order of battle. Spectators and members were breathless with suspense. Mason was the author of Virginia's Constitution and Bill of Rights and one of the most honorable, able, and esteemed members of the Legislature.
He had been a delegate to the Federal Convention and, with Randolph, had refused to sign the Constitution. Sixty-two years old, his snow-white hair contrasting with his blazing dark eyes, his commanding stature clad in black silk, his full, clear voice deliberate and controlled, George Mason was an impressive figure as he stood forth to strike the first blow at the new ordinance of Nationality.[1154] On so important a subject, he did not think any rules should prevent "the fullest and clearest investigation." God's curse would be small compared with "what will justly fall upon us, if from any sinister views we obstruct the fullest inquiry." The Constitution, declared Mason, should be debated, "clause by clause," before any question was put.[1155]
The Constitutionalists, keen-eyed for any strategic blunder of their adversaries, took instant advantage of Mason's bad generalship. Madison suavely agreed with Mason,[1156] and it was unanimously resolved that the Constitution should be "discussed clause by clause through all its parts,"[1157] before any question should be put as to the instrument itself or any part of it. Thus the opposition presented to the Constitutionalists the very method the latter wished for, and had themselves planned to secure, on their own initiative.[1158] The strength of the foes of the proposed National Government was in attacking it as a whole; their weakness, in discussing its specific provisions. The danger of the Constitutionalists lay in a general debate on the large theory and results of the Constitution; their safety, in presenting in detail the merits of its separate parts.
While the fight over the Constitution was partly an economic class struggle, it was in another and a larger phase a battle between those who thought nationally and those who thought provincially. In hostile array were two central ideas: one, of a strong National Government acting directly on men; the other, of a weak confederated league merely suggesting action to States. It was not only an economic contest, but also, and even more, a conflict by those to whom "liberty" meant unrestrained freedom of action and speech, against those to whom such "liberty" meant tumult and social chaos.
The mouths of the former were filled with those dread and sounding words "despotism" and "arbitrary power"; the latter loudly denounced "enemies of order" and "foes of government." The one wanted no bits in the mouth of democracy, or, at most, soft ones with loose reins and lax hand; the other wished a stout curb, stiff rein, and strong arm. The whole controversy, on its popular side, resounded with misty yet stirring language about "liberty," "aristocracy," "tyranny," "anarchy," "licentiousness"; and yet "debtor," "creditor," "property and taxes," "payment and repudiation," were heard among the more picturesque and thrilling terms. In this fundamental struggle of antagonistic theories, the practical advantage for the hour was overwhelmingly with those who resisted the Constitution.
They had on their side the fears of the people, who, as has appeared, looked on all government with suspicion, on any vital government with hostility, and on a great central Government as some distant and monstrous thing, too far away to be within their reach, too powerful to be resisted, too high and exalted for the good of the common man, too dangerous to be tried. It was, to the masses, something new, vague, and awful; something to oppress the poor, the weak, the debtor, the settler; something to strengthen and enrich the already strong and opulent, the merchant, the creditor, the financial interests.