In the meantime efforts were being made by Congress to improve the unsatisfactory ordinance for the government of the West. Committees were appointed, reports were made, and at intervals of weeks or months the subject was considered. Some amendments were actually adopted, but Congress, notoriously inefficient, hesitated to undertake a fundamental revision of the ordinance. Then, suddenly, in July, 1787, after a brief period of adjournment, Congress took up this subject and within a week adopted the now famous Ordinance of 1787.
The stimulus which aroused Congress to activity seems to have come from the Ohio Company. From the very beginning of the public domain there was a strong sentiment in favor of using western land for settlement by Revolutionary soldiers. Some of these lands had been offered as bounties to encourage enlistment, and after the war the project of soldiers’ settlement in the West was vigorously agitated. The Ohio Company of Associates was made up of veterans of the Revolution, who were looking for homes in the West, and of other persons who were willing to support a worthy cause by a subscription which might turn out to be a good investment. The company wished to buy land in the West, and Congress had land which it wished to sell. Under such circumstances it was easy to strike a bargain. The land, as we have seen, was roughly estimated at one dollar an acre; but, as the company wished to purchase a million acres, it demanded and obtained wholesale rates of two-thirds of the usual price. It also obtained the privilege of paying at least a portion in certificates of Revolutionary indebtedness, some of which were worth about twelve and a half cents on the dollar. Only a little calculation is required to show that a large quantity of land was therefore sold at about eight or nine cents an acre. It was in connection with this land sale that the Ordinance of 1787 was adopted.
The promoter of this enterprise undertaken by the Ohio Company was Manasseh Cutler of Ipswich, Massachusetts, a clergyman by profession who had served as a chaplain in the Revolutionary War. But his interests and activities extended far beyond the bounds of his profession. When the people of his parish were without proper medical advice he applied himself to the study and practice of medicine. At about the same time he took up the study of botany, and because of his describing several hundred species of plants he is regarded as the pioneer botanist of New England. His next interest seems to have grown out of his Revolutionary associations, for it centered in this project for settlement of the West, and he was appointed the agent of the Ohio Company. It was in this capacity that he had come to New York and made the bargain with Congress which has just been described. Cutler must have been a good lobbyist, for Congress was not an efficient body, and unremitting labor, as well as diplomacy, was required for so large and important a matter. Two things indicate his method of procedure. In the first place he found it politic to drop his own candidate for the governorship of the new territory and to endorse General Arthur St. Clair, then President of Congress. And in the next place he accepted the suggestion of Colonel William Duer for the formation of another company, known as the Scioto Associates, to purchase five million acres of land on similar terms, “but that it should be kept a profound secret.” It was not an accident that Colonel Duer was Secretary of the Board of the Treasury through whom these purchases were made, nor that associated with him in this speculation were “a number of the principal characters in the city.” These land deals were completed afterwards, but there is little doubt that there was a direct connection between them and the adoption of the ordinance of government.
The Ordinance of 1787 was so successful in its working and its renown became so great that claims of authorship, even for separate articles, have been filed in the name of almost every person who had the slightest excuse for being considered. Thousands of pages have been written in eulogy and in dispute, to the helpful clearing up of some points and to the obscuring of others. But the authorship of this or of that clause is of much less importance than the scope of the document as a working plan of government. As such the Ordinance of 1787 owes much to Jefferson’s Ordinance of 1784. Under the new ordinance a governor and three judges were to be appointed who, along with their other functions, were to select such laws as they thought best from the statute books of all the States. The second stage in self-government would be reached when the population contained five thousand free men of age; then the people were to have a representative legislature with the usual privilege of making their own laws. Provision was made for dividing the whole region northwest of the Ohio River into three or four or five districts and the final stage of government was reached when any one of these districts had sixty thousand free inhabitants, for it might then establish its own constitution and government and be admitted into the Union on an equal footing with the original States.
The last-named provision for admission into the Union, being in the nature of a promise for the future, was not included in the body of the document providing for the government, but was contained in certain “articles of compact, between the original States and the people and States in the said territory, [which should] forever remain unalterable, unless by common consent.” These articles of compact were in general similar to the bills of rights in State Constitutions; but one of them found no parallel in any State Constitution. Article VI reads: “There shall be neither slavery nor involuntary servitude in the said territory, otherwise than in the punishment of crimes, whereof the party shall have been duly convicted.” This has been hailed as a farsighted, humanitarian measure, and it is quite true that many of the leading men, in the South as well as in the North, were looking forward to the time when slavery would be abolished. But the motives predominating at the time were probably more nearly represented by Grayson, who wrote to James Monroe, three weeks after the ordinance was passed: “The clause respecting slavery was agreed to by the southern members for the purpose of preventing tobacco and indigo from being made on the northwest side of the Ohio, as well as for several other political reasons.”
It is over one hundred and forty years since the Ordinance of 1787 was adopted, during which period more than thirty territories of the United States have been organized, and there has never been a time when one or more territories were not under Congressional supervision, so that the process of legislative control has been continuous. Changes have been made from time to time in order to adapt the territorial government to changed conditions, but for fifty years the Ordinance of 1787 actually remained in operation, and even twenty years later it was specifically referred to by statute. The principles of territorial government today are identical with those of 1787, and those principles comprise the largest measure of local self-government compatible with national control, a gradual extension of self-government to the people of a territory, and finally complete statehood and admission into the Union on a footing of equality with the other States.
In 1825, when the military occupation of Oregon was suggested in Congress, Senator Dickerson of New Jersey objected, saying, “We have not adopted a system of colonization and it is to be hoped we never shall.” Yet that is just what America has always had. Not only were the first settlers on the Atlantic coast colonists from Europe; but the men who went to the frontier were also colonists from the Atlantic seaboard. And the men who settled the States in the West were colonists from the older communities. The Americans had so recently asserted their independence that they regarded the name of colony as not merely indicating dependence but as implying something of inferiority and even of reproach. And when the American colonial system was being formulated in 1783-87 the word “Colony” was not used. The country under consideration was the region west of the Alleghany Mountains and in particular the territory north and west of the Ohio River and, being so referred to in the documents, the word “Territory” became the term applied to all the colonies.
The Northwest Territory increased so rapidly in population that in 1800 it was divided into two districts, and in 1802 the eastern part was admitted into the Union as the State of Ohio. The rest of the territory was divided in 1805 and again in 1809; Indiana was admitted as a State in 1816 and Illinois in 1818. So the process has gone on. There were thirteen original States and six more have become members of the Union without having been through the status of territories, making nineteen in all; while twenty-nine States have developed from the colonial stage. The incorporation of the colonies into the Union is not merely a political fact; the inhabitants of the colonies become an integral part of the parent nation and in turn become the progenitors of new colonies. If such a process be long continued, the colonies will eventually outnumber the parent States, and the colonists will outnumber the citizens of the original States and will themselves become the nation. Such has been the history of the United States and its people. By 1850, indeed, one-half of the population of the United States was living west of the Alleghany Mountains, and at the present time approximately seventy per cent are to be found in the West.
The importance of the Ordinance of 1787 was hardly overstated by Webster in his famous debate with Hayne when he said: “We are accustomed … to praise the lawgivers of antiquity; we help to perpetuate the fame of Solon and Lycurgus; but I doubt whether one single law of any lawgiver, ancient or modern, has produced effects of more distinct, marked and lasting character than the Ordinance of 1787.” While improved means of communication and many other material ties have served to hold the States of the Union together, the political bond was supplied by the Ordinance of 1787, which inaugurated the American colonial system.
John Fiske summed up the prevailing impression of the government of the Confederation in the title to his volume, The Critical Period of American History. “The period of five years,” says Fiske, “following the peace of 1783 was the most critical moment in all the history of the American people. The dangers from which we were saved in 1788 were even greater than were the dangers from which we were saved in 1865.” Perhaps the plight of the Confederation was not so desperate as he would have us believe, but it was desperate enough. Two incidents occurring between the signing of the preliminary terms of peace and the definitive treaty reveal the danger in which the country stood. The main body of continental troops made up of militiamen and short-term volunteers—always prone to mutinous conduct—was collected at Newburg on the Hudson, watching the British in New York. Word might come at any day that the treaty had been signed, and the army did not wish to be disbanded until certain matters had been settled—primarily the question of their pay. The officers had been promised half-pay for life, but nothing definite had been done toward carrying out the promise. The soldiers had no such hope to encourage them, and their pay was sadly in arrears. In December, 1782, the officers at Newburg drew up an address in behalf of themselves and their men and sent it to Congress. Therein they made the threat, thinly veiled, of taking matters into their own hands unless their grievances were redressed.
There is reason to suppose that back of this movement—or at least in sympathy with it—were some of the strongest men in civil as in military life, who, while not fomenting insurrection, were willing to bring pressure to bear on Congress and the States. Congress was unable or unwilling to act, and in March, 1783, a second paper, this time anonymous, was circulated urging the men not to disband until the question of pay had been settled and recommending a meeting of officers on the following day. If Washington’s influence was not counted upon, it was at least hoped that he would not interfere; but as soon as he learned of what had been done he issued general orders calling for a meeting of officers on a later day, thus superseding the irregular meeting that had been suggested. On the day appointed the Commander-in-Chief appeared and spoke with so much warmth and feeling that his “little address … drew tears from many of the officers.” He inveighed against the unsigned paper and against the methods that were talked of, for they would mean the disgrace of the army, and he appealed to the patriotism of the officers, promising his best efforts in their behalf. The effect was so strong that, when Washington withdrew, resolutions were adopted unanimously expressing their loyalty and their faith in the justice of Congress and denouncing the anonymous circular.
The general apprehension was not diminished by another incident in June. Some eighty troops of the Pennsylvania line in camp at Lancaster marched to Philadelphia and drew up before the State House, where Congress was sitting. Their purpose was to demand better treatment and the payment of what was owed to them. So far it was an orderly demonstration, although not in keeping with military regulations; in fact the men had broken away from camp under the lead of noncommissioned officers. But when they had been stimulated by drink the disorder became serious. The humiliating feature of the situation was that Congress could do nothing, even in self-protection. They appealed to the Pennsylvania authorities and, when assistance was refused, the members of Congress in alarm fled in the night and three days later gathered in the college building in Princeton.
Congress became the butt of many jokes, but men could not hide the chagrin they felt that their Government was so weak. The feeling deepened into shame when the helplessness of Congress was displayed before the world. Weeks and even months passed before a quorum could be obtained to ratify the treaty recognizing the independence of the United States and establishing peace. Even after the treaty was supposed to be in force the States disregarded its provisions and Congress could do nothing more than utter ineffective protests. But, most humiliating of all, the British maintained their military posts within the northwestern territory ceded to the United States, and Congress could only request them to retire. The Americans’ pride was hurt and their pockets were touched as well, for an important issue at stake was the control of the lucrative fur trade. So resentment grew into anger; but the British held on, and the United States was powerless to make them withdraw. To make matters worse, the Confederation, for want of power to levy taxes, was facing bankruptcy, and Congress was unable to devise ways and means to avert a crisis.
The Second Continental Congress had come into existence in 1775. It was made up of delegations from the various colonies, appointed in more or less irregular ways, and had no more authority than it might assume and the various colonies were willing to concede; yet it was the central body under which the Revolution had been inaugurated and carried through to a successful conclusion. Had this Congress grappled firmly with the financial problem and forced through a system of direct taxation, the subsequent woes of the Confederation might have been mitigated and perhaps averted. In their enthusiasm over the Declaration of Independence the people—by whom is meant the articulate class consisting largely of the governing and commercial elements—would probably have accepted such a usurpation of authority. But with their lack of experience it is not surprising that the delegates to Congress did not appreciate the necessity of such radical action and so were unwilling to take the responsibility for it. They counted upon the goodwill and support of their constituents, which simmered down to a reliance upon voluntary grants from the States in response to appeals from Congress. These desultory grants proved to be so unsatisfactory that, in 1781, even before the Articles of Confederation had been ratified, Congress asked for a grant of additional power to levy a duty of five per cent ad valorem upon all goods imported into the United States, the revenue from which was to be applied to the discharge of the principal and interest on debts “contracted … for supporting the present war.” Twelve States agreed, but Rhode Island, after some hesitation, finally rejected the measure in November, 1782.
The Articles of Confederation authorized a system of requisitions apportioned among the “several States in proportion to the value of all land within each State.” But, as there was no power vested in Congress to force the States to comply, the situation was in no way improved when the Articles were ratified and put into operation. In fact, matters grew worse as Congress itself steadily lost ground in popular estimation, until it had become little better than a laughing-stock, and with the ending of the war its requests were more honored in the breach than in the observance. In 1782 Congress asked for $8,000,000 and the following year for $2,000,000 more, but by the end of 1783 less than $1,500,000 had been paid in.
In the same year, 1783, Congress made another attempt to remedy the financial situation by proposing the so-called Revenue Amendment, according to which a specific duty was to be laid upon certain articles and a general duty of five per cent ad valorem upon all other goods, to be in operation for twenty-five years. In addition to this it was proposed that for the same period of time $1,500,000 annually should be raised by requisitions, and the definite amount for each State was specified until “the rule of the Confederation” could be carried into practice. It was then proposed that the article providing for the proportion of requisitions should be changed so as to be based not upon land values but upon population, in estimating which slaves should be counted at three-fifths of their number. In the course of three years thereafter only two States accepted the proposals in full, seven agreed to them in part, and four failed to act at all. Congress in despair then made a further representation to the States upon the critical condition of the finances and accompanied this with an urgent appeal, which resulted in all the States except New York agreeing to the proposed impost. But the refusal of one State was sufficient to block the whole measure, and there was no further hope for a treasury that was practically bankrupt. In five years Congress had received less than two and one-half million dollars from requisitions, and for the fourteen months ending January 1, 1786, the income was at the rate of less than $375,000 a year, which was not enough, as a committee of Congress reported, “for the bare maintenance of the Federal Government on the most economical establishment and in time of profound peace.” In fact, the income was not sufficient even to meet the interest on the foreign debt.
In the absence of other means of obtaining funds Congress had resorted early to the unfortunate expedient of issuing paper money based solely on the good faith of the States to redeem it. This fiat money held its value for some little time; then it began to shrink and, once started on the downward path, its fall was rapid. Congress tried to meet the emergency by issuing paper in increasing quantities until the inevitable happened: the paper money ceased to have any value and practically disappeared from circulation. Jefferson said that by the end of 1781 one thousand dollars of Continental scrip was worth about one dollar in specie.
The States had already issued paper money of their own, and their experience ought to have taught them a lesson, but with the coming of hard times after the war, they once more proposed by issuing paper to relieve the “scarcity of money” which was commonly supposed to be one of the principal evils of the day. In 1785 and 1786 paper money parties appeared in almost all the States. In some of these the conservative element was strong enough to prevent action, but in others the movement had to run its fatal course. The futility of what they were doing should have been revealed to all concerned by proposals seriously made that the paper money which was issued should depreciate at a regular rate each year until it should finally disappear.
The experience of Rhode Island is not to be regarded as typical of what was happening throughout the country but is, indeed, rather to be considered as exceptional. Yet it attracted widespread attention and revealed to anxious observers the dangers to which the country was subject if the existing condition of affairs were allowed to continue. The machinery of the State Government was captured by the paper-money party in the spring election of 1786. The results were disappointing to the adherents of the paper-money cause, for when the money was issued depreciation began at once, and those who tried to pay their bills discovered that a heavy discount was demanded. In response to indignant demands the legislature of Rhode Island passed an act to force the acceptance of paper money under penalty and thereupon tradesmen refused to make any sales at all—some closed their shops, and others tried to carry on business by exchange of wares. The farmers then retaliated by refusing to sell their produce to the shopkeepers, and general confusion and acute distress followed. It was mainly a quarrel between the farmers and the merchants, but it easily grew into a division between town and country, and there followed a whole series of town meetings and county conventions. The old line of cleavage was fairly well represented by the excommunication of a member of St. John’s Episcopal Church of Providence for tendering bank notes, and the expulsion of a member of the Society of the Cincinnati for a similar cause.
The contest culminated in the case of Trevett vs. Weeden, 1786, which is memorable in the judicial annals of the United States. The legislature, not being satisfied with ordinary methods of enforcement, had provided for the summary trial of offenders without a jury before a court whose judges were removable by the Assembly and were therefore supposedly subservient to its wishes. In the case in question the Superior Court boldly declared the enforcing act to be unconstitutional, and for their contumacious behavior the judges were summoned before the legislature. They escaped punishment, but only one of them was re¨elected to office.
Meanwhile disorders of a more serious sort, which startled the whole country, occurred in Massachusetts. It is doubtful if a satisfactory explanation ever will be found, at least one which will be universally accepted, as to the causes and origin of Shays’ Rebellion in 1786. Some historians maintain that the uprising resulted primarily from a scarcity of money, from a shortage in the circulating medium; that, while the eastern counties were keeping up their foreign trade sufficiently at least to bring in enough metallic currency to relieve the stringency and could also use various forms of credit, the western counties had no such remedy. Others are inclined to think that the difficulties of the farmers in western Massachusetts were caused largely by the return to normal conditions after the extraordinarily good times between 1776 and 1780, and that it was the discomfort attending the process that drove them to revolt. Another explanation reminds one of present-day charges against undue influence of high financial circles, when it is insinuated and even directly charged that the rebellion was fostered by conservative interests who were trying to create a public opinion in favor of a more strongly organized government.
Whatever other causes there may have been, the immediate source of trouble was the enforced payment of indebtedness, which to a large extent had been allowed to remain in abeyance during the war. This postponement of settlement had not been merely for humanitarian reasons; it would have been the height of folly to collect when the currency was greatly depreciated. But conditions were supposed to have been restored to normal with the cessation of hostilities, and creditors were generally inclined to demand payment. These demands, coinciding with the heavy taxes, drove the people of western Massachusetts into revolt. Feeling ran high against lawyers who prosecuted suits for creditors, and this antagonism was easily transferred to the courts in which the suits were brought. The rebellion in Massachusetts accordingly took the form of a demonstration against the courts. A paper was carried from town to town in the County of Worcester, in which the signers promised to do their utmost “to prevent the sitting of the Inferior Court of Common Pleas for the county, or of any other court that should attempt to take property by distress.”
The Massachusetts Legislature adjourned in July, 1786, without remedying the trouble and also without authorizing an issue of paper money which the hard-pressed debtors were demanding. In the months following mobs prevented the courts from sitting in various towns. A special session of the legislature was then called by the Governor but, when that special session had adjourned on the 18th of November, it might just as well have never met. It had attempted to remedy various grievances and had made concessions to the malcontents, but it had also passed measures to strengthen the hands of the Governor. This only seemed to inflame the rioters, and the disorders increased. After the lower courts a move was made against the State Supreme Court, and plans were laid for a concerted movement against the cities in the eastern part of the State. Civil war seemed imminent. The insurgents were led by Daniel Shays, an officer in the army of the Revolution, and the party of law and order was represented by Governor James Bowdoin, who raised some four thousand troops and placed them under the command of General Benjamin Lincoln.
The time of year was unfortunate for the insurgents, especially as December was unusually cold and there was a heavy snowfall. Shays could not provide stores and equipment and was unable to maintain discipline. A threatened attack on Cambridge came to naught for, when preparations were made to protect the city, the rebels began a disorderly retreat, and in the intense cold and deep snow they suffered severely, and many died from exposure. The center of interest then shifted to Springfield, where the insurgents were attempting to seize the United States arsenal. The local militia had already repelled the first attacks, and the appearance of General Lincoln with his troops completed the demoralization of Shays’ army. The insurgents retreated, but Lincoln pursued relentlessly and broke them up into small bands, which then wandered about the country preying upon the unfortunate inhabitants. When spring came, most of them had been subdued or had taken refuge in the neighboring States.
Shays’ Rebellion was fairly easily suppressed, even though it required the shedding of some blood. But it was the possibility of further outbreaks that destroyed men’s peace of mind. There were similar disturbances in other States; and there the Massachusetts insurgents found sympathy, support, and finally a refuge. When the worst was over, and Governor Bowdoin applied to the neighboring States for help in capturing the last of the refugees, Rhode Island and Vermont failed to respond to the extent that might have been expected of them. The danger, therefore, of the insurrection spreading was a cause of deep concern. This feeling was increased by the impotence of Congress. The Government had sufficient excuse for intervention after the attack upon the national arsenal in Springfield. Congress, indeed, began to raise troops but did not dare to admit its purpose and offered as a pretext an expedition against the Northwestern Indians. The rebellion was over before any assistance could be given. The inefficiency of Congress and its lack of influence were evident. Like the disorders in Rhode Island, Shays’ Rebellion in Massachusetts helped to bring about a reaction and strengthened the conservative movement for reform.
These untoward happenings, however, were only symptoms: the causes of the trouble lay far deeper. This fact was recognized even in Rhode Island, for at least one of the conventions had passed resolutions declaring that, in considering the condition of the whole country, what particularly concerned them was the condition of trade. Paradoxical as it may seem, the trade and commerce of the country were already on the upward grade and prosperity was actually returning. But prosperity is usually a process of slow growth and is seldom recognized by the community at large until it is well established. Farsighted men forecast the coming of good times in advance of the rest of the community, and prosper accordingly. The majority of the people know that prosperity has come only when it is unmistakably present, and some are not aware of it until it has begun to go. If that be true in our day, much more was it true in the eighteenth century, when means of communication were so poor that it took days for a message to go from Boston to New York and weeks for news to get from Boston to Charleston. It was a period of adjustment, and as we look back after the event we can see that the American people were adapting themselves with remarkable skill to the new conditions. But that was not so evident to the men who were feeling the pinch of hard times, and when all the attendant circumstances, some of which have been described, are taken into account, it is not surprising that commercial depression should be one of the strongest influences in, and the immediate occasion of, bringing men to the point of willingness to attempt some radical changes.
The fact needs to be reiterated that the people of the United States were largely dependent upon agriculture and other forms of extractive industry, and that markets for the disposal of their goods were an absolute necessity. Some of the States, especially New England and the Middle States, were interested in the carrying trade, but all were concerned in obtaining markets. On account of jealousy interstate trade continued a precarious existence and by no means sufficed to dispose of the surplus products, so that foreign markets were necessary. The people were especially concerned for the establishment of the old trade with the West India Islands, which had been the mainstay of their prosperity in colonial times; and after the British Government, in 1783, restricted that trade to British vessels, many people in the United States were attributing hard times to British malignancy. The only action which seemed possible was to force Great Britain in particular, but other foreign countries as well, to make such trade agreements as the prosperity of the United States demanded. The only hope seemed to lie in a commercial policy of reprisal which would force other countries to open their markets to American goods. Retaliation was the dominating idea in the foreign policy of the time. So in 1784 Congress made a new recommendation to the States, prefacing it with an assertion of the importance of commerce, saying: “The fortune of every Citizen is interested in the success thereof; for it is the constant source of wealth and incentive to industry; and the value of our produce and our land must ever rise or fall in proportion to the prosperous or adverse state of trade.”
And after declaring that Great Britain had “adopted regulations destructive of our commerce with her West India Islands,” it was further asserted: “Unless the United States in Congress assembled shall be vested with powers competent to the protection of commerce, they can never command reciprocal advantages in trade.” It was therefore proposed to give to Congress for fifteen years the power to prohibit the importation or exportation of goods at American ports except in vessels owned by the people of the United States or by the subjects of foreign governments having treaties of commerce with the United States. This was simply a request for authorization to adopt navigation acts. But the individual States were too much concerned with their own interests and did not or would not appreciate the rights of the other States or the interests of the Union as a whole. And so the commercial amendment of 1784 suffered the fate of all other amendments proposed to the Articles of Confederation. In fact only two States accepted it.
It usually happens that some minor occurrence, almost unnoticed at the time, leads directly to the most important consequences. And an incident in domestic affairs started the chain of events in the United States that ended in the reform of the Federal Government. The rivalry and jealousy among the States had brought matters to such a pass that either Congress must be vested with adequate powers or the Confederation must collapse. But the Articles of Confederation provided no remedy, and it had been found that amendments to that instrument could not be obtained. It was necessary, therefore, to proceed in some extra-legal fashion. The Articles of Confederation specifically forbade treaties or alliances between the States unless approved by Congress. Yet Virginia and Maryland, in 1785, had come to a working agreement regarding the use of the Potomac River, which was the boundary line between them. Commissioners representing both parties had met at Alexandria and soon adjourned to Mount Vernon, where they not only reached an amicable settlement of the immediate questions before them but also discussed the larger subjects of duties and commercial matters in general. When the Maryland legislature came to act on the report, it proposed that Pennsylvania and Delaware should be invited to join with them in formulating a common commercial policy. Virginia then went one step farther and invited all the other States to send commissioners to a general trade convention and later announced Annapolis as the place of meeting and set the time for September, 1786.
This action was unconstitutional and was so recognized, for James Madison notes that “from the Legislative Journals of Virginia it appears, that a vote to apply for a sanction of Congress was followed by a vote against a communication of the Compact to Congress,” and he mentions other similar violations of the central authority. That this did not attract more attention was probably due to the public interest being absorbed just at that time by the paper money agitation. Then, too, the men concerned seem to have been willing to avoid publicity. Their purposes are well brought out in a letter of Monsieur Louis Otto, French Chargé d’Affaires, written on October 10, 1786, to the Comte de Vergennes, Minister for Foreign Affairs, though their motives may be somewhat misinterpreted.
Although there are no nobles in America, there is a class of men denominated “gentlemen,” who, by reason of their wealth, their talents, their education, their families, or the offices they hold, aspire to a preeminence which the people refuse to grant them; and, although many of these men have betrayed the interests of their order to gain popularity, there reigns among them a connection so much the more intimate as they almost all of them dread the efforts of the people to despoil them of their possessions, and, moreover, they are creditors, and therefore interested in strengthening the government, and watching over the execution of the laws.
These men generally pay very heavy taxes, while the small proprietors escape the vigilance of the collectors. The majority of them being merchants, it is for their interest to establish the credit of the United States in Europe on a solid foundation by the exact payment of debts, and to grant to congress powers extensive enough to compel the people to contribute for this purpose. The attempt, my lord, has been vain, by pamphlets and other publications, to spread notions of justice and integrity, and to deprive the people of a freedom which they have so misused. By proposing a new organization of the federal government all minds would have been revolted; circumstances ruinous to the commerce of America have happily arisen to furnish the reformers with a pretext for introducing innovations.
They represented to the people that the American name had become opprobrious among all the nations of Europe; that the flag of the United States was everywhere exposed to insults and annoyance; the husbandman, no longer able to export his produce freely, would soon be reduced to want; it was high time to retaliate, and to convince foreign powers that the United States would not with impunity suffer such a violation of the freedom of trade, but that strong measures could be taken only with the consent of the thirteen states, and that congress, not having the necessary powers, it was essential to form a general assembly instructed to present to congress the plan for its adoption, and to point out the means of carrying it into execution.
The people, generally discontented with the obstacles in the way of commerce, and scarcely suspecting the secret motives of their opponents, ardently embraced this measure, and appointed commissioners, who were to assemble at Annapolis in the beginning of September.
The authors of this proposition had no hope, nor even desire, to see the success of this assembly of commissioners, which was only intended to prepare a question much more important than that of commerce. The measures were so well taken that at the end of September no more than five states were represented at Annapolis, and the commissioners from the northern states tarried several days at New York in order to retard their arrival.
The states which assembled, after having waited nearly three weeks, separated under the pretext that they were not in sufficient numbers to enter on business, and, to justify this dissolution, they addressed to the different legislatures and to congress a report, the translation of which I have the honor to enclose to you. ¹
Among these “men denominated ‘gentlemen’” to whom the French Chargé d’Affaires alludes, was James Madison of Virginia. He was one of the younger men, unfitted by temperament and physique to be a soldier, who yet had found his opportunity in the Revolution. Graduating in 1771 from Princeton, where tradition tells of the part he took in patriotic demonstrations on the campus—characteristic of students then as now—he had thrown himself heart and soul into the American cause. He was a member of the convention to frame the first State Constitution for Virginia in 1776, and from that time on, because of his ability, he was an important figure in the political history of his State and of his country. He was largely responsible for bringing about the conference between Virginia and Maryland and for the subsequent steps resulting in the trade convention at Annapolis. And yet Madison seldom took a conspicuous part, preferring to remain in the background and to allow others to appear as the leaders. When the Annapolis Convention assembled, for example, he suffered Alexander Hamilton of New York to play the leading rôle.
Hamilton was then approaching thirty years of age and was one of the ablest men in the United States. Though his best work was done in later years, when he proved himself to be perhaps the most brilliant of American statesmen, with an extraordinary genius for administrative organization, the part that he took in the affairs of this period was important. He was small and slight in person but with an expressive face, fair complexion, and cheeks of “almost feminine rosiness.” The usual aspect of his countenance was thoughtful and even severe, but in conversation his face lighted up with a remarkably attractive smile. He carried himself erectly and with dignity, so that in spite of his small figure, when he entered a room “it was apparent, from the respectful attention of the company, that he was a distinguished person.” A contemporary, speaking of the opposite and almost irreconcilable traits of Hamilton’s character, pronounced a bust of him as giving a complete exposition of his character: “Draw a handkerchief around the mouth of the bust, and the remnant of the countenance represents fortitude and intrepidity such as we have often seen in the plates of Roman heroes. Veil in the same manner the face and leave the mouth and chin only discernible, and all this fortitude melts and vanishes into almost feminine softness.”
Hamilton was a leading spirit in the Annapolis Trade Convention and wrote the report that it adopted. Whether or not there is any truth in the assertion of the French chargé that Hamilton and others thought it advisable to disguise their purposes, there is no doubt that the Annapolis Convention was an all-important step in the progress of reform, and its recommendation was the direct occasion of the calling of the great convention that framed the Constitution of the United States.
The recommendation of the Annapolis delegates was in the form of a report to the legislatures of their respective States, in which they referred to the defects in the Federal Government and called for “a convention of deputies from the different states for the special purpose of entering into this investigation and digesting a Plan for supplying such defects.” Philadelphia was suggested as the place of meeting, and the time was fixed for the second Monday in May of the next year.
Several of the States acted promptly upon this recommendation and in February, 1787, Congress adopted a resolution accepting the proposal and calling the convention “for the sole and express purpose of revising the Articles of Confederation and reporting … such alterations … as shall … render the Federal Constitution adequate to the exigencies of Government and the preservation of the Union.” Before the time fixed for the meeting of the Philadelphia Convention, or shortly after that date, all the States had appointed deputies with the exception of New Hampshire and Rhode Island. New Hampshire was favorably disposed toward the meeting but, owing to local conditions, failed to act before the Convention was well under way. Delegates, however, arrived in time to share in some of the most important proceedings. Rhode Island alone refused to take part, although a letter signed by some of the prominent men was sent to the Convention pledging their support.