The Critical Period of American History

by John Fiske

A most auspicious beginning had thus been made. Three states, one third of the whole number required, had ratified almost at the same moment. Two of these, moreover, were small states, which at the beginning of the Federal Convention had been obstinately opposed to any fundamental change in the government. It was just here that the Federalists were now strongest. The Connecticut compromise had wrought with telling effect, not only in the convention, but upon the people of the states. When the news from Trenton was received in Pennsylvania, there was great rejoicing in the eastern counties, while beyond the Susquehanna there were threats of armed rebellion. On the day after Christmas, as the Federalists of Carlisle were about to light a bonfire on the common and fire a salute, they were driven off the field by a mob armed with bludgeons, their rickety old cannon was spiked, and an almanac for the new year, containing a copy of the Constitution, was duly cursed, and then burned. Next day the Federalists, armed with muskets, came back, and went through their ceremonies. Their opponents did not venture to molest them; but after they had dispersed, an Antifederalist demonstration was made, and effigies of James Wilson and Thomas McKean, another prominent Federalist, were dragged to the common, and there burned at the stake.

Georgia ratifies, Jan. 2, 1788; Connecticut, Jan. 9. The outlook in Massachusetts.

The action of Delaware and New Jersey had shown that the Antifederalists could not build any hopes upon the antagonism between large and small states. It was thought, however, that the southern states would unite in opposing the Constitution from their dread of becoming commercially subjected to New England. But the compromise on the slave-trade had broken through this opposition. On the 2d of January, 1788, the Constitution was ratified in Georgia without a word of dissent. One week later Connecticut ratified by a vote of 128 to 40, after a session of only five days. The hopes of the Antifederalists now rested upon Massachusetts, where the state convention assembled on the 9th of January, the same day on which that of Connecticut broke up. Should Massachusetts refuse to ratify, there would be no hope for the Constitution. Even should nine states adopt it without her, no one supposed a Federal Union feasible from which so great a state should be excluded. Her action, too, would have a marked effect upon other states. It could not be denied that the outlook in Massachusetts was far from encouraging. The embers of the Shays rebellion still smouldered there, and in the mountain counties of Worcester and Berkshire were heard loud murmurs of discontent. Laws impairing the obligation of contracts were just what these hard-pressed farmers desired, and by the proposed Constitution all such laws were forever prohibited. The people of the district of Maine, which had formed part of Massachusetts for nearly a century, were anxious to set up an independent government for themselves; and they feared that if they were to enter into the new and closer Federal Union as part of that state, they might hereafter find it impossible to detach themselves. For this reason half of the Maine delegates were opposed to the Constitution. In none of the thirteen states, moreover, was there a more intense devotion to state rights than in Massachusetts. Nowhere had local self-government reached a higher degree of efficiency; nowhere had the town meeting flourished with such vigour. It was especially characteristic of men trained in the town meeting to look with suspicion upon all delegated power, upon all authority that was to be exercised from a distance. They believed it to be all important that people should manage their own affairs, instead of having them managed by other people; and so far had this principle been carried that the towns of Massachusetts were like little semi-independent republics, and the state was like a league of such republics, whose representatives, sitting in the state legislature, were like delegates strictly bound by instructions rather than untrammelled members of a deliberative body. To men trained in such a school, it would naturally seem that the new Constitution delegated altogether too much power to a governing body which must necessarily be remote from most of its constituents. It was feared that some sort of tyranny might grow out of this, and such fears were entertained by men who were not in the slightest degree infected with Shaysism, as the political disease of the inland counties was then called. Such fears were entertained by one of the greatest citizens that Massachusetts has ever produced, the man who has been well described as preëminently "the man of the town meeting,"—Samuel Adams. The limitations of this great man, as well as his powers, were those which belonged to him as chief among the men of English race who have swayed society through the medium of the ancient folk mote. At this time he was believed by many to be hostile to the new Constitution, and his influence in Massachusetts was still greater than that of any other man. Besides this, it was thought that the governor, John Hancock, was half-hearted in his support of the Constitution, and it was in everybody's mouth that Elbridge Gerry had refused to set his name to that document because he felt sure it would create a tyranny.

Such symptoms encouraged the Antifederalists in the hope that Massachusetts would reject the Constitution and ruin the plans of the "visionary young men"—as Richard Henry Lee called them—who had swayed the Federal Convention. But there were strong forces at work in the opposite direction. In Boston and all the large coast towns, even those of the Maine district, the dominant feeling was Federalist. All well-to-do people had been alarmed by the Shays insurrection, and merchants, shipwrights, and artisans of every sort were convinced that there was no prosperity in store for them until the federal government should have control over commerce, and be enabled to make its strength felt on the seas and in Europe. In these views Samuel Adams shared so thoroughly that his attitude toward the Constitution at this moment was really that of a waverer rather than an opponent. Amid balancing considerations he found it for some time hard to make up his mind.

In the convention which met on the 9th of January there sat Gorham, Strong, and King, who had taken part in the Federal Convention. There were also Samuel Adams and James Bowdoin; the revolutionary generals, Heath and Lincoln; and the rising statesmen, Sedgwick, Parsons, and Fisher Ames, whose eloquence was soon to become so famous. There were twenty-four clergymen, of various denominations,—men of sound scholarship, and several of them eminent for worldly wisdom and liberality of temper. Governor Hancock presided, gorgeous in crimson velvet and finest laces, while about the room sat many browned and weather-beaten farmers, among whom were at least eighteen who hardly a year ago had marched over the pine-clad mountain ridges of Petersham, under the banner of the rebel Shays. It was a wholesome no less than a generous policy that let these men come in and freely speak their minds. The air was thus the sooner cleared of discontent; the disease was thus the more likely to heal itself. In all there were three hundred and fifty-five delegates present,—a much larger number than took part in any of the other state conventions. The people of all parts of Massachusetts were very thoroughly represented, as befitted the state which was preëminent in the active political life of its town meetings, and the work done here was in some respects decisive in its effect upon the adoption of the Constitution.

Debates in the Massachusetts convention.

The convention began by overhauling that document from beginning to end, discussing it clause by clause with somewhat wearisome minuteness. Some of the objections seem odd to us at this time, with our larger experience. It was several days before the minds of the country members could be reconciled to the election of representatives for so long a period as two years. They had not been wont to delegate power to anybody for so long a time, not even to their selectmen, whom they had always under their eyes. How much more dangerous was it likely to prove if delegated authority were to be exercised for so long a period at some distant federal city, such as the Constitution contemplated! There was a vague dread that in some indescribable way the new Congress might contrive to make its sittings perpetual, and thus become a tyrannical oligarchy, which might tax the people without their consent. And then as to this federal city, there were some who did not like the idea. A district ten miles square! Was not that a great space to give up to the uncontrolled discretion of the federal government, wherein it could wreak its tyrannical will without let or hindrance? One of the delegates thought he could be reconciled to the new Constitution if this district could only be narrowed down to one mile square. And then there was the power granted to Congress to maintain a standing army, of which the president was to be ex officio commander-in-chief. Did not this open the door for a Cromwell? It was to be a standing army for at least two years, since this was the shortest period between elections. Why, even the British Parliament, since 1688, did not keep up a standing army for more than one year at a time, but renewed its existence annually under what was termed the Mutiny Act. But what need of a standing army at all? Would it not be sure to provoke needless disorders? Had they already forgotten the Boston Massacre, in spite of all the orations that had been delivered in the Old South Meeting-House? A militia, organized under the town-meeting system, was surely all-sufficient. Such a militia had won glorious triumphs at Lexington and Bennington; and at King's Mountain, had not an army of militia surrounded and captured an army of regulars led by one of England's most skilful officers? What more could you ask? Clearly this plan for a standing army foreboded tyranny. Upon this point Mr. Nason, from the Maine district, had his say, in tones of inimitable bombast. "Had I the voice of Jove," said he, "I would proclaim it throughout the world; and had I an arm like Jove, I would hurl from the globe those villains that would dare attempt to establish in our country a standing army!"

Liberal attitude of the clergy.

Next came the complaint that the Constitution did not recognize the existence of God, and provided no religious tests for candidates for federal offices. But, strange to say, this objection did not come from the clergy. It was urged by some of the country members, but the ministers in the convention were nearly unanimous in opposing it. There had been a remarkable change of sentiment among the clergy of this state, which had begun its existence as a theocracy, in which none but church members could vote or hold office. The seeds of modern liberalism had been planted in their minds. When Amos Singletary of Sutton declared it to be scandalous that a Papist or an infidel should be as eligible to office as a Christian,—a remark which naively assumed that Roman Catholics were not Christians,—the Rev. Daniel Shute of Hingham replied that no conceivable advantage could result from a religious test. Yes, said the Rev. Philip Payson of Chelsea, "human tribunals for the consciences of men are impious encroachments upon the prerogatives of God. A religious test, as a qualification for office, would have been a great blemish." "In reason and in the Holy Scripture," said the Rev. Isaac Backus of Middleborough, "religion is ever a matter between God and the individual; the imposing of religious tests hath been the greatest engine of tyranny in the world." With this liberal stand firmly taken by the ministers, the religious objection was speedily overruled.

Then the clause which allows Congress to regulate the times, places, and manner of holding federal elections was severely criticised. It was feared that Congress would take advantage of this provision to destroy the freedom of elections. It was further objected that members of Congress, being paid their salaries from the federal treasury, would become too independent of their constituents. Federal collectors of revenue, moreover, would not be so likely to act with moderation and justice as collectors appointed by the state. Then it was very doubtful whether the people could support the expense of an elaborate federal government. They were already scarcely able to pay their town, county, and state taxes; was it to be supposed they could bear the additional burden with which federal taxation would load them? Then the compromise on the slave-trade was fiercely attacked. They did not wish to have a hand in licensing this nefarious traffic for twenty years. But it was urged, on the other hand, that by prohibiting the foreign slave-trade after 1808 the Constitution was really dealing a death-blow to slavery; and this opinion prevailed.