20 / CHRONICLESnand prospective spokesman for the Anti-Federalist cause—nuntil his son dies, his supporters in Boston turn Federalist,nand John Hancock decides to be a hero one time more.nSpeaking of proposed amendments, he affirms the onenwhich provides “that it be explicitly declared that all powersnnot expressly delegated to Congress are reserved to thenseveral states, to be by them exercised.” Says Adams, “Thisnappears to my mind to be a summary of the bill of rights.”nThere were, of course, stubborn radicals who remainednunsatisfied with the promise of federalism, part of a populationnfilled with an “inordinate self-confidence” in “theirnability to pass upon the most abstruse questions of government.”nThe Constitution would have been refused innVirginia, New York, and elsewhere if the MassachusettsnAnti-Federalists had, out of their resentment of Federalistnleaders (of wealth, education, lawyers) and the rigorousnpunitive aftermath of Shays’ Rebellion, prevented its approvalnin their state. Probably they could have been successfulnif their natural leadership had been elected to serve in thenconvention. But Gerry and Warren and Winthrop lived inntownships where the Constitution was admired and werenthus denied a seat. And other Anti-Federalists kept quiet, orndid not even bother to stand for election. From the first,nwhat worked most against the Federalist cause (apart fromn”the apparentiy vindictive way in which the [Bowdoin]ngovernment in Boston had disfranchised and prosecuted thenShaysites after their surrender”) had been Massachusetts’nfierce insularity; a powerful spirit of localism; the advantagenbelonging to well-tested “manners,” modes, and orders; thengeneral American fear of remote and hostile authoritiesncompounded to the third power by an attendant pride innbeing part of a “chosen” people—who even lived longernthan citizens of other American regions, so wholesome wasntheir place of habitation. And, with that group pride,npresuming a common patrimony and blood, a corporatenhostility to contamination working inward from the parametersnof Zion, to a dilution or “thinning out” of the Puritannsubstance by reason of being “unequally yoked together”nwith assorted godless heathen. Consolidation, in the opinionnof Benjamin Randall, “would introduce mannersnamong us which would set us at continual variance.” Worsenthan “the pirates of Algiers” or “the haughty Spaniard” werenthe wicked Southerners: “We shall suffer from joining withnthem.” Or, what is worse, “We shall be slaves to thenSouthern states.” Ceneral William Heath, in reaction tonthis evidence of an exclusive spirit, asks his neighbors,n”Shall we refuse to eat and drink with those who do notnthink and act as we do?” To the proposition that “theninterests of the States are too dissimilar for a Union,”nFederalists say little more than that “the members of thenSouthern States, like ourselves, have their prejudices.” Atntimes the complaint is aimed at the luxury of life in thenSouth, where two days’ work stands in the place of six innEssex County. In other circumstances there are objectionsnof Negro slavery, both as a violation of essential humannliberty and as a flight from the life of industry. GeneralnSamuel Thompson thunders, “If the Southern states willnnot give up slavery, we should not unite with them.” Tonwhich line of thought Caleb Strong replies, “The southernnStates have their inconveniences; none but negroes cannwork there.” Strong reminds the Massachusetts delegates ofnnnthe superiority of the New England “way.” And if slaverynwill not do for a danger, how about Popery and thenInquisition? That complaining of one violation of essentialnhuman liberties while recommending another kind ofnrepression is, of course, contradictory. Yet it is also innkeeping with an essential paradox of Massachusetts historynand reduces natural grumbling against two-thirds of thenslaves being counted in the political census of states andndistricts to the level of a mere irritant, brought on by thenunwholesome situation of those folk “down there.” Yet evennwith sectionalism under control, Massachusetts Federalistsnwere not ready for a vote; they therefore kept the conversationngoing, even though by continuing they ran a risk ofnsharpening the most serious of Anti-Federalist fears—thatnthey will collect money “by the point of the sword”—n”heavy direct taxes” of the kind which had spawned Shays’nRebellion in the first place.nBecause they had such a numerical advantage when thenconvention first assembled (as many as 48 votes), Anti-nFederalists set the tone of the meeting. The business of thatnassembly was, to be sure, not so much disinterestedndeliberation as it was to hear what everyone knew would bena vigorous case put against the Constitution and then seenwhat kind of circumstantial argument might issue from itsnfriends and champions. The convention worked throughnthe Constitution and stopped for discussion only as objectionsnwere voiced. Its delays bought time for the Federalists,nwho would have been defeated in any division of the housenin early January, but did not guarantee their success at anlater date. Despite delays, the Anti-Federalists had a greatnstrategic advantage in that they spoke not for the Articles ofnConfederation but for the integrity of Massachusetts, thenstate’s sense of itself, “since our fathers dug clams atnPlymouth,” embodied in much of the dialogue betweenncritics and supporters of the Constitution. The task of thenFederalists was to persuade those less-than-certain delegatesnthat the best way to save the Commonwealth they allnprofessed to love was by accepting, on balance, a Constitutionnall knew to be imperfect. Federalists sometimes made annormative argument for Union per se, but not forcefully fornthis particular version of Union. It was only “as good anConstitution of government as the people would bear.”nFinally it became obvious to James Bowdoin, RufusnKing, Nathaniel Gorham, and Theophilus Parsons, whonhad more or less organized the Federalist forces, that somenconcession to Anti-Federalist objections would have to benmade—a concession in the form of recommended amendments.nAnd Governor Hancock (elected president of thenconvention but waiting at home—with the excuse of poornhealth—to see which way the wind blew) brought in tonsupport that concession as a sufficient protection for selfgovernmentnin Massachusetts. It appears that a delegationnof Federalists went to see the governor with this rhetoricalnpackage, offering him the opportunity to lead them forwardntoward what inevitably was their future while continuing tonhonor the history, the identity of his people: a chance to benthe central player in a melodrama.nThe Federalists would provide what Gouverneur Morrisnspoke of as “loaves and fishes”—a miracle of persuasion tonbring around popular politicians—as part of the arrangement;nthey were (reported Rufus King) obliged to promisen