The Convention was more than half over when Hugh Williamson of North Carolina made the remark that it was “pretty certain that we should at some time or other have a king.” A single executive would in effect constitute an elective king, and would “feel the spirit of one. He will spare no pains to keep himself in office for life, and will then lay a train for the succession of his children.” No precaution should be omitted “that might postpone this event as long as possible.”
No fewer than sixty ballots were needed before the method of selecting the President was decided, with the convention torn between appointment by Congress, by the state legislatures, or perhaps even by popular vote. Madison remained steadfastly opposed to any proposal for popular election; one of his arguments was that people would always prefer a citizen of their own state, thereby putting the small states once again at a disadvantage.
It took nearly as many ballots to resolve other matters concerning the executive department. Should the President be subject to impeachment? If so, he could certainly not be called a monarch, for a king cannot be impeached. Gouverneur Morris, at least, thought the President should be impeachable. He reminded the delegates that even the King of England, Charles II, had been bribed by Louis XIV, and that the American executive, too, “may be bribed by a greater power to betray his trust.”
In the third month of the Convention, the matter of a king for America came to a head. A newspaper reported a rumor, persistent and disturbing, to invite the “Bishop of Osnaburgh,” second son of George III, to America as king. The rumor spread from town to town, state to state, and was eventually traced to a Connecticut Loyalist who had issued a circular letter suggesting that, as the states did not possess enough wit to govern themselves, George III’s son should be sent for.
The Convention was quick to act. The Pennsylvania Journal carried an article which declared that the delegates had responded to the “idly circulating reports . . . tho’ we cannot affirmatively tell you what we are doing, we can, negatively, tell you what we are not doing – we never once thought of a king.” Perhaps not, but monarchial traditions die hard, even in America. When the question of the chief executive’s title came up in the Senate two years later, John Adams, no monarchist by any stretch of the imagination, nevertheless proposed “His Highness, the President of the United States and Protector of their Liberties.” Nothing less would be proportional to the authority and dignity of his office and to the wealth, power and population of the nation. Providentially, the House refused; George Washington and his successors all remained plain “Mr. President.”
