The Critical Period of American History

by John Fiske

Maryland ratifies, April 28.

Debates in the South Carolina legislature.

South Carolina ratifies, May 23.

About the time that the Massachusetts convention broke up, that of New Hampshire assembled at Exeter; but after a brief discussion it was decided to adjourn until June, in order to see how the other states would act. On the 21st of April the Maryland convention assembled at Annapolis. All the winter Patrick Henry had been busily at work, with the hope of inducing the southern states to establish a separate confederacy; but he had made little headway anywhere, and none at all in Maryland, where his influence was completely counteracted by that of Washington. Above all things, said Washington, do not let the convention adjourn till the matter is decided, for the Antifederalists are taking no end of comfort from the postponement in New Hampshire. Their glee was short-lived, however. Some of Maryland's strongest men, such as Luther Martin and Samuel Chase, were Antifederalists; but their efforts were of no avail. After a session of five days the Constitution was ratified by a vote of 63 to 11. Whatever damage New Hampshire might have done was thus more than made good. The eyes of the whole country were now turned upon the eighth state, South Carolina. Her convention was to meet at Charleston on the 12th of May, the anniversary of the day on which General Lincoln had surrendered that city to Sir Henry Clinton; but there had been a decisive preliminary struggle in the legislature in January. The most active of the Antifederalists was Rawlins Lowndes, who had opposed the Declaration of Independence. Lowndes was betrayed into silliness. "We are now," said he, "under a most excellent constitution,—a blessing from Heaven, that has stood the test of time [!!], and given us liberty and independence; yet we are impatient to pull down that fabric which we raised at the expense of our blood." This was not very convincing to the assembly, most of the members knowing full well that the fabric had not stood the test of time, but had already tumbled in by reason of its vicious construction. A more effective plea was that which referred to the slave-trade. "What cause is there," said Lowndes, "for jealousy of our importing negroes? Why confine us to twenty years? Why limit us at all? This trade can be justified on the principles of religion and humanity. They do not like our having slaves because they have none themselves, and therefore want to exclude us from this great advantage." Cotesworth Pinckney replied: "By this settlement we have secured an unlimited importation of negroes for twenty years. The general government can never emancipate them, for no such authority is granted, and it is admitted on all hands that the general government has no powers but what are expressly granted by the Constitution. We have obtained a right to recover our slaves in whatever part of the country they may take refuge, which is a right we had not before. In short, considering all circumstances, we have made the best terms in our power for the security of this species of property. We would have made better if we could; but, on the whole, I do not think them bad." Perhaps Pinckney would not have assumed exactly this tone at Philadelphia, but at Charleston the argument was convincing. Lowndes then sounded the alarm that the New England states would monopolize the carrying-trade and charge ruinous freights, and he drew a harrowing picture of warehouses packed to bursting with rice and indigo spoiling because the owners could not afford to pay the Yankee skippers' prices for carrying their goods to market. But Pinckney rejoined that a Yankee shipmaster in quest of cargoes would not be likely to ruin his own chances for getting them, and he called attention to the great usefulness of the eastern merchant marine as affording material for a navy, and thus contributing to the defence of the country. Finally Lowndes put in a plea for paper money, but with little success. The result of the debate set the matter so clearly before the people that a great majority of Federalists were elected to the convention. Among them were Gadsden, the Rutledges and the Pinckneys, Moultrie, and William Washington, who had become a citizen of the state from which he had helped to expel the British invader. The Antifederalists were largely represented by men from the upland counties, belonging to a population in which there was considerable likeness all along the Appalachian chain of mountains, from Pennsylvania to the southern extremity of the range. There were among them many "moonshiners," as they were called,—distillers of illicit whiskey,—and they did not relish the idea of a federal excise. At their head was Thomas Sumter, a convert to Patrick Henry's scheme for a southern confederacy. Their policy was one of delay and obstruction, but it availed them little, for on the 23d of May, after a session of eleven days, South Carolina ratified the Constitution by a vote of 149 against 73.

Important effect upon Virginia.

Debates in the Virginia Convention.

Madison and Marshall prevail and Virginia ratifies, June 25.

The sound policy of the Federal Convention in adopting the odious compromise over the slave-trade was now about to bear fruit. In Virginia there had grown up a party which favoured the establishment of a separate southern confederacy. By the action of South Carolina all such schemes were now nipped in the bud. Of the states south of Mason and Dixon's line, three had now ratified the Constitution, so that any separate confederacy could now consist only of Virginia and North Carolina. The reason for this short-lived separatist feeling in Virginia was to be found in the complications which had grown out of the attempt of Spain to close the Mississippi River. It will be remembered that only two years before Jay had actually recommended to Congress that the right to navigate the lower Mississippi be surrendered for twenty-five years, in exchange for a favourable commercial treaty with Spain. The New England states, caring nothing for the distant Mississippi, supported this measure in Congress; and this narrow and selfish policy naturally created alarm in Virginia, which, in her district of Kentucky, touched upon the great river. Thus to the vague dread of the southern states in general, in the event of New England's controlling the commercial policy of the government, there was added, in Virginia's case, a specific fear. If the New England people were thus ready to barter away the vital interests of a remote part of the country, what might they not do? Would they ever stop at anything so long as they could go on building up their commerce? This feeling strongly influenced Patrick Henry in his desire for a separate confederacy; and we have seen how Randolph and Mason, in the Federal Convention, were so disturbed at the power given to Congress to regulate commerce by a simple majority of votes that they refused to set their names to the Constitution. They alleged further reasons for their refusal, but this was the chief one. They wanted a two thirds vote to be required, in order that the south might retain the means of protecting itself. Under these circumstances the opposition to the Constitution was very strong, and but for the action of South Carolina the party in favour of a separate confederacy might have been capable of doing much mischief. As it was, since that party had actively intrigued both in South Carolina and Maryland, the ratification of the Constitution by both these states was a direct rebuff. It quite demoralized the advocates of secession. The paper-money men, moreover, were handicapped by the fact that two of the most powerful Antifederalists, Mason and Lee, were determined opponents of a paper currency, so that this subject had to be dropped or very gingerly dealt with. The strength of the Antifederalists, though impaired by these causes, was still very great. The contest was waged with all the more intensity of feeling because, since eight states had now adopted the Constitution, the verdict of Virginia would be decisive. The convention met at Richmond on the 2d of June, and Edmund Pendleton was chosen president. Foremost among the Antifederalists was Patrick Henry, whose eloquence was now as zealously employed against the new government as it had been in bygone days against the usurpations of Great Britain. He was supported by Mason, Lee, and Grayson, as well as by Benjamin Harrison and John Tyler, the fathers of two future presidents; and he could count on the votes of most of the delegates from the midland counties, from the south bank of the James River, and from Kentucky. But the united talents of the opposition had no chance of success in a conflict with the genius and tact of Madison, who at one moment crushed, at another conciliated, his opponent, but always won the day. To Madison, more than any other man, the Federalist victory was due. But he was ably seconded by Governor Randolph, whom he began by winning over from the opposite party, and by the favourite general and eloquent speaker, "Light-Horse Harry." Conspicuous in the ranks of Federalists, and unsurpassed in debate, was a tall and gaunt young man, with beaming countenance, eyes of piercing brilliancy, and an indescribable kingliness of bearing, who was by and by to become chief justice of the United States, and by his masterly and far-reaching decisions to win a place side by side with Madison and Hamilton among the founders of our national government. John Marshall, second to none among all the illustrious jurists of the English race, was then, at the age of thirty-three, the foremost lawyer in Virginia. He had already served for several terms in the state legislature, but his national career began in this convention, where his arguments with those of Madison, reinforcing each other, bore down all opposition. The details of the controversy were much the same as in the states already passed in review, save in so far as coloured by the peculiar circumstances of Virginia. After more than three weeks of debate, on the 25th of June, the question was put to vote, and the Constitution was ratified by the narrow majority of 89 against 79. Amendments were offered, after the example of Massachusetts, which had already been followed by South Carolina and the minority in Maryland; and, as in Massachusetts, the defeated Antifederalists announced their intention to abide loyally by the result.

New Hampshire had already ratified, June 21.

The discussion had lasted so long that Virginia lost the distinction of being the ninth state to ratify the Constitution. That honour had been reserved for New Hampshire, whose convention had met on the anniversary of Bunker Hill, and after a four days' session, on the 21st of June, had given its consent to the new government by a vote of 57 against 46. The couriers from Virginia and those from New Hampshire, as they spurred their horses over long miles of dusty road, could shout to each other the joyous news in passing. Though the ratification of New Hampshire had secured the necessary ninth state, yet the action of Virginia was not the less significant and decisive. Virginia was at that time, and for a quarter of a century afterward, the most populous state in the Union, and one of the greatest in influence. Even with the needed nine states all in hand, it is clear that the new government could not have gone into successful operation with the leading state, the home of Washington himself, left out in the cold. The New Roof, as men were then fond of calling the Federal Constitution, must speedily have fallen in without this indispensable prop. When it was known that Virginia had ratified, it was felt that the victory was won, and the success of the new scheme assured. The 4th of July, 1788, witnessed such loud rejoicings as have perhaps never been seen before or since on American soil. In Philadelphia there was a procession miles in length, in which every trade was represented, and wagons laden with implements of industry or emblematic devices alternated with bands of music and gorgeous banners. There figured the New Roof, supported by thirteen columns, and there was to be seen the Ship of State, the good ship Constitution, made out of the barge which Paul Jones had taken from the shattered and blood-stained Serapis, after his terrible fight. As for the old scow Confederacy, Imbecility master, it was proclaimed she had foundered at sea, and "the sloop Anarchy, when last heard from, was ashore on Union Rocks." All over the country there were processions and bonfires, and in some towns there were riots. In Providence the Federalists prepared a barbecue of oxen roasted whole, but a mob of farmers, led by three members of the state legislature, attempted to disperse them, and were with some difficulty pacified. In Albany the Antifederalists publicly burned the Constitution, whereupon a party of Federalists brought out another copy of it, and nailed it to the top of a pole, which they planted defiantly amid the ashes of the fire their opponents had made. Out of these proceedings there grew a riot, in which knives were drawn, stones were thrown, and blood was shed.