E Pluribus

E Pluribus

By David Marsh

Copyright 2016 David Marsh

Distributed by Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of

the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial

purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own

copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support

Foreword

The US Constitution. Looking back over two centuries, it is hard for modern Americans to understand the struggle our Founding Fathers faced when writing it. Issues, such as slavery or whether the Federal Government should be allowed to have an army, seem to have ridiculously obvious solutions. The experiment they contemplated, democracy, allowing the rabble of uneducated commoners to determine the fate of the nation, was unthinkable. Yet, they thought those thoughts, and thought them on a continental scale.

Preposterous.

Somehow they succeeded and created the greatest achievement ever devised by the human mind, The Constitution of the United States of America.

These people were far from perfect. James Madison, often hailed as the father of the Constitution, was a small sickly man who suffered from epilepsy, and some say, autism. Robert Morris was a wealthy pirate, Gouverneur Morris a womanizer unparalleled in modern politics, William Blount a thief, and Luther Martin a perpetual drunk. Above it all presided the stately George Washington who never publically expressed his opinion or engaged in any debate.

How this odd cadre managed this feat, we will never fully know. The Constitutional Convention was conducted in secret. Every one of the 55 delegates who attended took their silence to their graves.

Perhaps this was their story.

Chapter 1

That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States

- Richard Henry Lee, The Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776

Thirteen sovereignties pulling against each other, and all tugging at the foederal head, will soon bring ruin on the whole…. I do not conceive we can exist long as a nation.

- George Washington, ten years later

Akira heard a noise and struggled to open her eyes. Her head hurt and her back ached. Where was she? A rattle of metal and a low rumbling growl of a voice made her heart speed up.

Ms. Madison.

Instantly she was awake, staring at a tall man looming over her, pointing a long barrel in her direction.

Sleeping in the high school newspaper office, Ms. Madison? he said, waving a pen at her, This package came Fed Ex. Unfortunately, I am bound by duty to deliver it.

Ah, thanks Principal Higgins. She rubbed her face trying to shake off her haze of sleep. Between volleyball, being the editor of the high school newspaper and the vlog she did with Ty every week she barely had enough time for her homework, never mind sleep.

Stifling a yawn, she took the pen from the principal and signed the receipt.

Higgins grunted a doubtful harrumph and gave her the box. He took a step back, scanning the all too familiar Rogue Rat design on her t-shirt. How in the world do you expect to get away with wearing that in here?

It’s for the Rogue Rash vlog. We’re live streaming this afternoon.

I see. Higgins hated anything he couldn’t control. And Rogue Rash was on the top of his list. Every week Akira and Ty live-streamed it from the high school auditorium. And every week Higgins gave them a hard time about it. The fact that their vlog had gone viral and was watched by millions only made him madder.

It made Akira smile to think about it.

I still haven’t received your proposal for your Senior Civics Project, Ms. Madison. When might I expect it?

Soon, Principal Higgins, very soon.

Higgins looked her in the eye and his face softened. He sat on the corner of her desk and folded his hands. Ms. Madison…Akira…you are the smartest person in the area of American History that I have ever known. Why are you dragging your feet on this Senior Project, in Civics of all topics?

Higgins’ warm smile reminded Akira that, despite his gruff exterior, he was a softie inside. Being a principal in a New York City high school was a tough job and Higgins truly cared about his students.

Akira paused, and leaned back in her chair staring off into space. Ever since I first learned to read I’ve been fascinated by our history. The more I read, the more I realize there's so much we still don't know about our past. I want my Senior Civics Project to be more than just another essay. I want to discover some new unsolved mystery, some great uncovering of how our nation was really formed. Just imagine, me up on a huge stage, ready to present my paper to a standing-room-only crowd, the New York Times, the Washington Post, and every major network hanging on my every word. She heaved a wistful sigh. Then she noticed Higgins’ doubtful face. Well, that kind of excitement isn't going to just land on my desk. She picked up her letter opener and began slicing through the tape on the package.

Akira, you need to be realistic. Just give me your proposal and write an ordinary essay. What do you say?

I don’t know…. Her voice trailed off as she thought about the long history her family had and how she felt she needed to contribute to that history.

Another thing, Higgins’ face became more serious and folded his hands, you really shouldn’t be spending as much time as you do with Tyler Yates. He’s a bad influence.

Oh my God, how can you say that? At nineteen he is the youngest New York State Senator in history.

Oh please, Higgins said examining his fingernails, don’t remind me. I certainly didn’t vote for him. He is simply too young.

There have been younger legislators in other states. Saira Blair was only 17 when she won her first election to the West Virginia House. Founding Father Jonathon Dayton was only a few years older than Ty when he helped write the US Constitution. Besides, Ty knows as much American history as I do.

A subject he is failing because he doesn’t show up for class. The only reason he is back here is that he's been thrown out of every private school in the area.

Principal Higgins, he’s never missed a senate session. Besides, why should he go to class? He already knows more than the teacher.

The rules are the rules. Besides, the two of you don’t agree on anything. You are exact opposites. Ty’s family is typical WASP, White Anglo-Saxon Protestant, and rich beyond measure. You are, well.…

Go ahead and say it. I’m black and my aunt and I are poor. But we are just as proud of our heritage as anyone in Ty’s family.

For that I give you credit. But you need to be careful dating a boy like Tyler.

We are not dating! We are friends, strictly friends.

Higgins crossed his arms and looked doubtful.

Akira crossed her arms and glared back.

Okay, okay, Higgins conceded. Friends. A friendship I simply don’t understand.

Ever since Kindergarten, Ty and I have fought. Then when we found out our families have always fought, well it only made things worse, and better at the same time.

Higgins forehead furrowed questioning her comment.

It’s true. If you go back far enough it was Ty's ancestor, Robert Yates, that led the battle at the Constitutional Convention against my ancestral uncle, James Madison. She paused, letting Higgins remember the details. Who knows where we'd be if Madison had lost – still struggling under the Articles of Confederation and a powerless central government.

Higgins’ face grew hard again. And like his ancestor, Tyler thinks a powerless government would be a good thing. He says he's sick and tired of what he calls our oversized government stepping on the rights of the people. Rubbish. The Federal Government protects our rights. It doesn’t take them away. And, why does he call himself Dr. Rogue? Tyler is a perfectly good name.

Mr. Higgins, that is his right, is it not?

Higgins blew out a long breath. Yes, it is his right. It is also his right to not to get a diploma. You’ll be in that same position if I don’t get your project proposal soon, young lady. Higgins stood and huffed out of the room nearly running into Jenin as he left.

Princ-pal Higgins, he look mad, Jenin said, her voice thick with a Chinese accent. Jenin was about the same height as Akira, barely five feet, but of a more normal build rather than Akira’s almost scrawny frame.

He’s just being over-protective. Again.

Jenin hefted a makeup tote. Ty, he send me to get you ready for vlog.

Akira nodded and turned her chair around so Jenin could work on her hair.

Jenin pulled a comb through Akira’s hair. Higgins, he no like Ty.

Ty is just one of those people. Either you love him or hate him.

What about you? What you think?

Both. Definitely both. And never in the middle.

I like Ty. He say government need serious haircut. Thomas Jefferson said, 'That government is best which governs least.'

No Jenin, Jefferson never said that.

But, Ty say…

Ty loves to misquote Jefferson as a way to make his point of view clear. It is a technique used throughout American history.

On the outside of Jenin’s tote was a photo of Ty, Dr. Rogue himself. Long brassy hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, jet-black goatee, his massive, bulked-up torso straining through his wrestler's tights. Lord help us. How he ever got elected to the New York Senate was beyond her. On the other hand, he certainly did stand out. Behind him was his blazing stars and stripes Mustang, its overdone engine barely contained under a massive chrome air-intake that mountained up from the hood. Having infinite money made toys like that possible. She re-read the title for the hundredth time.

The Rogue-mobile? Akira tisked. Couldn't he have come up with a better name than that for the most infamous car in America?

You no like? Jenin protested. In China I think all Americans like Ty. So that easy for me.

You named it? Akira was shocked.

Jenin didn’t answer. She just kept working on Akira’s hair, then swiveled her chair around to apply makeup to her face.

Jenin, that car wouldn't be legal even on the Daytona Speedway, never mind the public streets. The only reason he gets away with it is that he is a state senator giving him immunity. Not exactly setting a good example.

Jenin held up a mirror for Akira. Ty say all this government mess need be cleaned up. I senior. Next year I live on my own. Government need be fixed now before it too late.

Akira checked herself in the mirror. Thanks Jenin.

Jenin started packing away her stuff in the tote. Vlog in twenty minutes. You go.

Will do.

Akira smiled as Jenin closed her door. Democracy, or as Jenin called it, all this government mess, never claimed to be clean and easy. Rancor and contention were intentionally built into the Constitution, carefully engineered into the document. E Pluribus Unum, out of many, one. Without the Constitution there’d be no Unum. Today we take democracy and the Constitution for granted. Up until then, every democracy, from the Greeks on forward, had always ended in disaster. Democracy was an impossibility. The very word itself was considered inappropriate for public use, and everyone disagreed as to what it meant.

Even still, the Founding Fathers believed. What we have today all boiled down to their faith that somehow, someway, democracy could be made to work. But, how?

It wasn’t just the battle between James Madison and Robert Yates. That was just the tip of the iceberg. Despite thousands of letters and reams of essays, so little was known today about the people themselves. What were they thinking, what were they feeling, what backroom deals were made to give us our Constitution? That’s what she wanted to write about for her senior project. All her life Akira had dreamed of finding out, and all her school career she'd dreamed of finding solid evidence of what had really gone on back then.

She sighed. Looking back at the now half opened Fed-Ex box, she pulled back the top flap.

***

Philadelphia, February, 1786, fifteen months before the Constitutional Convention

Candle light glimmered and glinted from the freshly polished chandelier, casting rippling shadows into the stemmed goblet of Port in his hand.

I cannot yet fully comprehend why you brought me here Alexander. Four days carriage ride from the Virginia House of Delegates in Richmond. And what is to be accomplished? I should not be absent from the sessions at so crucial a time.

My dear James sir, it has been my experience that men of Guvernur's stature will not concede to such matters as are being planned unless it be on their own terms. Having you here in his home will lend his mind to ease and better contemplation.

Man of his stature? Surely you do not consider a man of such lavish arrogance, James swept his hand around the conspicuously decorated room, who obtained said wealth by piracy on the high seas to be a man of true gentlemanly stature.

A more loyal patriot you will not find. He was deprived of a leg during the Revolution in an accident delivering provisions to the troops.

Madison looked skeptical. It is my understanding, declaimed by many, that his leg was lost due to an inauspicious leap from a second story window escaping a jealous husband.

James sir, take caution. The chamber has many ears. Alexander's eyes gestured toward an approaching servant.

More Port Mr. Hamilton sir, Mr. Madison sir?

Hamilton held out his glass without speaking.

Stature, indeed. Even his servants, James spoke after the servant had left, are better dressed than you or I.

I urge you to overlook the sources of his wealth. Guvernur Morris has the means we so desperately crave.

My friend, you must speak in the singular. My mind is most unsettled by your devious plan.

Devious it may be and it is not my plan alone, as you well know. Moreover, it stands in great necessity. If you are in disagreement, I urge you to speak to me of it presently, for you are about to encounter men who fervently agree with the deviations of which you speak.

Other men, beyond Guvernur? Madison took a step back from the taller Hamilton. Of whom are you speaking? Men the likes of John Hancock?

Hamilton laughed. My dear sir! John Hancock threatened to hang you for treason for your last proposal for amendment of The Articles of Confederation.

James sniffed with a prideful smile of memory. Tis true. By my Lord in Heaven, they have accomplished naught in Congress. A decade on from the Declaration and they cannot even vote to allow Vermont into the Union. No deeper impossibility is there in this life.

The corner of Hamilton's mouth curled into a half smile. Before I joined, when you were yet in the Congress, they voted to allow Canada into the Union.

James' knuckles whitened as he gripped his goblet in frustration. Imbecility upon imbecility. All will be lost if we do not take action. We might do better to hand the country back to King George.

Hearing a clamor at the front door, Hamilton turned. You are acquainted with Guvernur, are you not?

We were seated in Congress together, but I have not met with him since he resigned.

The front door opened and two servants entered, taking places on either side. Then Guvernur entered, his long coat swirled around him, hiding from view the source of the clomping sound from his wooden leg.

James Madison sir, Guvernur effused, so very good of you to come.

James winced as his hand folded under the taller man's overly firm grip. Your servant, sir.

And Alexander sir, I hope you've treated our guest handsomely.

Most certainly he has, James replied for his friend, shaking his hand to restore it.

Come, let us be seated in comfort. Guvernur loped his way into his study, sweeping off his coat as a servant scrambled to catch it before it fell to the floor. Collapsing into a heavily padded red leather chair, he held his hand up to accept a glass of dark red wine. Following a deep draft, he released a long sigh. There, that's better. Now, you were saying, James?

I answered only that I have been well used.

Splendid. But you must be wondering why I sent for you to join me here.

James nodded skeptically, and took a sip of his wine.

The reason, my dear sir, is simple. You are a Continentalist, a man who believes that America's only path forward is the path of strength, strength in unity. You tolerated the futility of the Confederation Congress for three long years. Guvernur turned to Hamilton. How long did you serve, was it three months before you stormed out?

Four. I served four very dreadful months.

Guvernur turned back to Madison. I complement you on your steadfastness, James. The only item of merit to come out of the Congress since the Declaration was your momentous work, the creation of the Northwest Territory. Remarkable, yes, yes, most admirable. Guvernur raised his glass to Madison and took another deep draught. Your work declares you a man of broad philosophy. He looked up into Hamilton's scowling face. As is my friend Alexander, no doubt there. But you James, have a sweetness of words, a softness of tongue, which, unfortunately, is not in the possession of my dearest friend. He looked to Hamilton’s grimace. Yes, 'tis true, and it will please me to no end if you will not hold my words against me. He looked back to Madison, holding him for a moment in his gaze. James, you possess the ability to turn people to your way of thinking. And your thinking is good and sound and moreover is a match for the way my friends and I are thinking.

And will you name these friends of whom you speak?

Shortly you will know, shortly you will know. Guvernur leaned back in his chair and pulled the window curtain, squinting into the darkness to see outside. Ah, yes! For here they are now to present themselves to you.

There was a knock on the door, and a servant moved to open it.

To answer your question, James sir, simply look to the door.

Madison's eyes narrowed as he watched three men walk in.

Do you know them, James?

I am acquainted with each. Robert Morris, the merchant admiral with a private navy of two hundred ships, John Jay, Superintendent of Foreign Affairs, and James Wilson the land speculator. A peculiar collection of men.

Men of vision who risked everything during the Revolution. Continentalists all. Come. Let us meet the men who will lead the new empire to its final victory. Guvernur stood and took several awkward steps forward to greet his comrades before he noticed Madison lagging behind. With a huff he took Madison by the arm and pulled him forward. Come, James dear sir. Don't allow your shyness to keep you from your destiny.

T'is not shyness that holds me back.

Guvernur responded with a gentle pat on his back then a less gentle push forward. With a quick swirl of his other arm he summoned wine for the new guests.

Gentlemen, Guvernur announced, you all know the brilliant James Madison of Virginia. Come let us toast him and his new undertaking.

All glasses were raised. Except one. I know naught of an undertaking.

You, my dear, patient James, Guvernur paused with a self-pleasing chortle, are going to build a nation. Guvernur blinked, and then nodded yes. An easy task for a man such as you, one would think.

I, ah, know not what you may mean, sir. I beg you to be plain. I assure you that I am inclined to listen, though I may not find favor in your explanations.

Come, let us sit, and I will reveal all. The group followed Guvernur into the study. Guvernur winced slightly as he collapsed into his chair. Now that our discussions are about to become more serious, I believe brandy is more appropriate than this Port. Yes? Moments later everyone had brandy in hand. Turning to Wilson, Guvernur said, "Mr. Wilson sir, I will let