It had rained over the weekend, breaking the sweltering heat that had made Philadelphia a caldron for most of the spring and summer of 1787. The air was cool and fresh on the Monday morning the delegates to the Constitutional Convention gathered for a last time at the war-worn State House (now Independence Hall). They had argued amongst themselves up to the last minute, and even now not one of them was entirely happy w0ith the results they had achieved. Forty one of the 61 delegates originally appointed were present. The aristocratic Charles Pinckney of South Carolina, 29 but claiming he was only 24 to make his accomplishments seem all the more remarkable was dressed in his usual flamboyant silks. The redoubtable Benjamin Franklin representing Pennsylvania at 81 was dressed in plain unembroidered brown, and was easing tensions with humorous stories. Lanky raw boned Roger Sherman from Connecticut, a powerful force at the convention, though a poor man, was dressed in black, his thick muscular wrists sticking out from his too short sleeves.
It was after three o’clock before they finally got everything organized, and what they achieved set the pattern for our peculiarly American way of conducting public ceremonies: No costumes or symbols. No class differences. Only the barest hint of ceremonial behavior. For all the democratic simplicity though, no one doubted that something of great importance was taking place.
Publication History: Smithsonian Magazine. May 2000, pp.143-153.
