Tempest at Dawn (14 page)

“
Convention suffrage?”

“
One vote per state.”

Sherman threw the answer over his shoulder as he
squeezed down the narrow stairs. Oliver Ellsworth, Sherman’s fellow
delegate from Connecticut, had arrived the night before.

“
Gouverneur Morris tried to base suffrage on
population, but the Virginians killed the idea,” Sherman added.
“They were afraid of a small state revolt.”

As they entered the dining room, Mrs. Marshall
greeted the men. “Good morning, Mr. Sherman, Mr. Ellsworth. Please
take a seat, and I’ll bring breakfast. Tea or coffee?”

“
Coffee, please. It smells wonderful,” Sherman
said.

“
I knew you’d be down soon, so I brewed a
fresh pot. Just a moment.” She immediately whirled around,
departing before Ellsworth could state a preference.

During the war, the British had closed off tea, so
it had become a symbol of patriotism to permeate your home with the
smell of coffee. Most women burned the beans. Mrs. Marshall had the
knack. Whether she was roasting, grinding, or brewing, the hearty
aroma always made Sherman crave a cup.

Sherman’s relationship with Mrs. Marshall continued
to improve, which wasn’t a new experience for him. His courtesy,
attentive conversation, and oafish ways combined in some haphazard
formula that appealed to women in the same way that a big, shaggy
dog always finds a caring home.

They took their seats and Mrs. Marshall returned,
using a folded towel to carry a coffeepot in one hand and a tin of
breakfast puffs in the other. Setting the puffs down, she poured
the coffee. From each cup billowed a tiny fog wafting an
invigorating aroma. Mrs. Marshall then reached for the cream and
placed it directly in front of Sherman.

“
There,” Mrs. Marshall said. “While I get
things together, you just try one of these puffs, Mr. Sherman. The
recipe came from a friend in Virginia, and everyone says they’re
wonderful.”

As Sherman took a test sip of the scalding coffee,
he noticed that Ellsworth gave Mrs. Marshall a wary look before he
said, “I brought a letter from your wife.”

“
Thank you.” Sherman put the sealed envelope
in his waistcoat pocket.

Ellsworth’s consternation amused him. Mrs. Marshall
wasn’t unattractive, but at sixty-six, he had other interests on
his mind. Sherman never confused a woman’s good-hearted attentions
with a romantic interest; at least, he hadn’t in many years.

Mrs. Marshall smiled. “Mr. Sherman, it seems you
have secured the advice you sought from an ‘intelligent woman.’ I
hope between the household news, Mrs. Sherman found time to fulfill
her obligations as your political confidant.”

Ellsworth looked puzzled. “Political confidant?”

“
Mrs. Marshall, please,” Sherman said. “You
mustn’t reveal our late night discourse to Mr.
Ellsworth.”

When Mrs. Marshall saw Ellsworth’s expression, she
explained, “I gave Mr. Sherman difficulty one evening.” Turning to
Sherman, she said, “I apologize. I’m afraid I was not kind.”

“
No apology needed,” Sherman said. “My
behavior was brash and inappropriate.”

Sherman gave Oliver a reassuring wink just as
another guest entered the room. Both men immediately stood.

“
Good morning, Reverend,” Mrs. Marshall said.
“Gentlemen, may I introduce the Reverend Doctor John Witherspoon.
The reverend is president of the College of New Jersey. This is Mr.
Roger Sherman and Mr. Oliver Ellsworth, delegates to the Federal
Convention.”

Sherman took a step forward and extended his hand.
“It’s a great pleasure to see you again, Reverend.”

“
Mr. Sherman, this is indeed a pleasant
surprise,” Witherspoon boomed in a voice more appropriate to a
classroom. “How grand. Your presence will improve the quality of
the evenings.”

“
You know each other?” Mrs. Marshall
asked.

“
Oh, they know each other,” Ellsworth said.
“Neither is inclined to boast, but they both signed the
Declaration. You’re looking at a couple of genuine
revolutionaries.”

“
Worn and tattered revolutionaries,” Sherman
said. “What brings you to Philadelphia, Reverend?”

“
I’m tutoring two students for the summer.
Brothers enrolled at the college. Both equally poor students,
burdened with rich parents. Dunderheaded boys forced to feign an
interest in scholarship. I fear a long, dreary summer.”

This could present difficulties, Sherman thought.
“As luck would have it, one of your former students is representing
Virginia. Have you had an opportunity to see Mr. Madison?”

“
Goodness, no, I arrived just last night. Do
you know where he’s staying?”

“
At the Indian Queen. I’ll see him shortly. If
you’d like, I can let him know you’re in town.”

“
Please. He was an exceptionally bright
student.”

“
We should adjourn early, perhaps by two
o’clock. Will you be here?”

“
Yes, yes. I should be returning about that
time. I’d consider it a great favor if you would let him know I’ve
boarded at Mrs. Marshall’s.”

“
Of course. James is still a great scholar.
He’s grown to become the trusted pilot for our noble
endeavor.”

As they sat down to breakfast, Sherman thought about
the possible repercussions of Madison’s academic mentor living in
the same house as the Connecticut delegation. Would Witherspoon
eavesdrop on their conversations? Could he be used to send signals
to the other side?

“
When did you see Madison last?” Sherman
asked.

“
Years, but we’ve traded correspondence. He
has an inquisitive mind.”

Sherman chewed on a spoonful of oatmeal laced with
nuts and raisins. “You must have a half dozen former students at
this convention.”

“
More, I suspect. I look forward to revisiting
them all, but Madison possessed a special quality.”

“
Did he share his plan with you?”

“
Goodness, no. Only questions. I’m anxious to
hear what he came up with.”

“
As are we,” Sherman said as he vowed to make
Witherspoon’s presence an opportunity, not a liability.

Sherman went to his room to read the letter from his
wife. What he read between the lines was more important than her
words. She had dealt with their fifteen children and household
affairs in his absence many times, but obviously things were
beginning to overwhelm her.

Rebecca was his second wife. She shared his
religious convictions and understood his commitment to civic duty.
His first wife had died in 1760, after bearing him seven children.
Three years later, he married Rebecca, and Sherman could not
imagine a better match. Rebecca was beautiful, shrewd in politics,
and always cheerful. Eight more children crowded the boisterous
household, and despite several having grown old enough to leave
home, the burden on Rebecca remained enormous.

She wanted to know how long he would be away. Too
long. This convention would meander for several weeks before he’d
be able to measure its duration, but he already knew it would
probably run several months.

He decided he needed to write several letters: one
to Rebecca, another to his minister, and yet another to a good
neighbor. He had to depend on others to keep an eye on his family
while he toiled in Philadelphia. Rebecca could handle family and
even business affairs, but she needed the kind of encouragement and
support that only a husband could provide. Sherman vowed to write
to her often.

When his letter was almost complete, he remembered
to add a warm salutation from Washington. The general had said
nothing, but the small lie would remind her of her proudest moment.
Several years ago, Rebecca had visited Roger while he was in
Congress, and Washington had invited them to a dinner party. To
Rebecca’s surprise, the general had escorted her in to dinner and
seated her to his immediate left. In an unbelievable breach of
etiquette, Mrs. Hancock had complained that she was owed the
distinction because of the status of her husband, the governor of
Massachusetts. Washington, who disliked the haughty John Hancock,
had taken his seat and simply said, “It’s my privilege to give my
arm to the handsomest woman in the room.”

That incident had made Washington a hero in the
Sherman household. The general later visited New Haven and called
on the family. When he was ready to leave, Sherman’s daughter
Mehetabel raced to open the door. The general, bowing graciously,
said, “You deserve a better office, my dear little lady.” Mehetabel
curtsied before responding. “Yes, sir, to let you in.”

Sherman smiled. He hoped that a greeting from
Washington would lift his wife’s spirits and give her something to
innocently drop into conversations with her friends.

Sherman entered the State House Central Hall and
looked around for a specific delegate. The Pennsylvania State House
was an elegant Georgian building. The Assembly Room stood to the
left, through a single door decorated with a shell-and-leaf frieze
above the frame. To the right, the architect had used three arches
to open the Pennsylvania Supreme Court Chamber to the public. At
the back of the Central Hall, a striking Palladian window drew
attention to the double-height Stair Hall that gave access to the
second floor.

Sherman watched a group of delegates disperse in
robust laughter. Obviously, someone had punctuated the end of their
conversation with an amusing story. Richard Dobbs Spaight, a young
delegate from North Carolina, wore a lingering smile as he walked
across the lobby. Sherman moved quickly to intercept Spaight before
he became engaged with another group.

“
Richard, may I have a moment?”

“
Of course, Roger. What's on your
mind?”

“
The Virginia Plan.”

“
A bit early to discuss it.”

“
The plan, yes, but it’s not too early to
discuss the rules. Do you think the plan will pass
intact?”

“
Of course not.”

“
My thinking exactly.” Sherman took Spaight’s
elbow and led him to a quieter corner. “My concern is that we might
agree on some aspect of the plan, say, executive term length,
before we define the powers of the executive. What may look correct
one day might look wrong after several more votes.”

“
I follow you, Roger, but I don’t know where
you’re going.”

“
This isn’t a single piece of legislation but
an entire system. We may need to reconsider prior decisions,
especially after we see the distribution of power.”

Spaight stiffened. “North Carolina stands firmly
with Virginia.”

“
I'm not suggesting you do
otherwise.”

“
Then what are you suggesting?” A cautionary
note suffused Spaight’s manner and voice.

“
North Carolina has
different—sensitive—interests from the Northern states. You must
stand fast to your commitments, but you needn’t lay yourself bare
to their ill-considered compassion.”

“
We have discussed this among ourselves, but
why is Connecticut concerned?”

“
We have our own concerns, but one answer
serves us both.”

“
And that is?”

“
This proposal isn’t without precedent. I
suggest …”

Sherman hurried outside to witness the strange
event. Wedged onto the State House steps, his height gave him an
unobstructed view over the heads of the other delegates. He quickly
spotted the venerable legend, situated like an ancient noble inside
a glass-enclosed chair aloft on the shoulders of four strong men.
The scene would have had an air of aristocracy if not for the
bemused smile on Franklin’s face. His wan expression told everyone
that no noble, but merely a frail old man, had come to do his
duty.

“
So, the great doctor makes his entrance. Now
that the convicts have hauled his corpulent figure here, we may
begin in earnest.” This came from Pinckney, standing beside
Sherman.

“
Careful, Charles, the doctor has powerful
friends. Some quite close at hand.”

Pinckney gave Sherman a sharp look, but he delivered
his answer in an even tone. “Everyone feels the need to caution
me.” Then after a pause, “Perhaps I should learn to hold my tongue,
but I object to the elevation of prominent citizens to demigods. In
our republic, all men are created equal.”

Were Pinckney’s comments heartfelt? Who else had
reproached him?

Sherman returned his attention to Franklin. He had
heard that the old man intended to use a sedan chair, but the grand
arrival had nonetheless startled him. Franklin’s gout limited his
mobility, so he had imported the chair from France. Although
Sherman had heard that even able Parisians used sedan chairs, this
was the first he had seen in America.

The rainy weather on Friday had kept Franklin away
from their first meeting, but today’s bright skies offered no
obstacle. The men gently carried their charge up the three steps,
down the Central Hall, and into the Assembly Room. Franklin had
rented the carriers from the debtors’ prison, and they seemed happy
for the recess from their boredom.

The delegates had followed the entourage inside. Now
they all stood in a circle, three and four deep, as the ill-fated
farmers lifted the doctor and carefully placed him in a chair in
the first row. A small round of applause accompanied the impromptu
ceremony; and then everyone shook Franklin’s hand or bowed briefly
from the periphery. The delegates broke from the circle, either
searching out a seat or breaking into small groups to continue
their conversations.