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FREMONT’S HEROIC EXPEDITION

FREMONT’S HEROIC EXPEDITION

FREMONT’S HEROIC EXPEDITION OF THE DISCOVERY TO THE UNTRACKED REGION OF THE NORTH-WEST, OREGON, CALIFORNIA, ETC. — 1842

Every American reader is enchanted with the narrative of those intrepid and heroic explorations of Fremont, “the Pathfinder,” which, in the language of Humboldt, — himself the greatest scientific explorer and geographer the world has ever seen, — “enriched every branch of natural science, and illustrated a vast country before entirely unknown,” and in appreciation of which he received from his admiring countrymen the highest tokens of honor, and, from kingly hands, acknowledgments inscribed on tablets of gold.

Several exploring tours of the western portion of our continent, within the geographical boundaries of the country subsequently known by the title of Oregon, took place before that which was led by the brave Fremont, but none with such rich and varied results as the latter.

It being desirable for our government to become fully acquainted with the character of the vast territory between the southern geographical boundary of the United States and the Rocky Mountains, around the head-waters of the Missouri, Fremont was appointed to superintend that exploring tour, under the direction of Colonel Abert, the chief of the topographical bureau at Washington, and by him projected and planned, with the approval of Secretary Poinsett. The great object of this expedition was to examine and report upon the rivers and country between the frontiers of Missouri and the base of the Rocky Mountains; and especially to examine the character, and ascertain the latitude and longitude of that wonderful gateway, the South Pass, the great crossing place to these mountains on the way to Oregon.

In executing his official instructions, Fremont proceeded up the Kansas river far enough to ascertain its peculiar features, and then crossed over to the Great Platte, and pursued that river to its source in the mountains, where the Sweet Water — a head branch of the Platte — issues from the neighborhood of the South Pass. He reached the Pass on the eighth of August, and found it to be a wide and low depression of the mountains, of very easy ascent, and where a plainly beaten wagon load leads to the Oregon through the valley of Lewis’s river, a fork of the Columbia. He went through the Pass, and saw the head-waters of the Colorado, of the Gulf of California; and, leaving the valleys to indulge a laudable curiosity, and to make some useful observations, Fremont, attended by four of his men, climbed the loftiest peak of the Rocky Mountains, until then untrodden by any known human being; and, on the fifteenth of August, looked down upon ice and snow some thousand feet below, and traced in the distance the valleys of the rivers which, taking their rise in the same elevated ridge, flow in opposite directions to the Pacific ocean and to the Mississippi. From that ultimate point he returned by the valley of the Great Platte, following the stream in its whole course, and solving all questions in relation to its navigability, and the features of the country through which it flows.

On the prairies which border the forks of the river Platte, the travelers bivouacked in the evening, eating their meat with a good relish; for they were all in fine health, and had ridden nearly of a long summer’s day, with a burning sun reflected from the sands.

When about sixty miles distant, the party caught the first faint glimpse of the Rocky Mountains. Though a tolerably bright day, there was a slight mist, and the snowy summit of ‘Long’s Peak,’ showing like a small cloud near the horizon, was just barely discernible. There was, however, no mistake in distinguishing it, there being a perceptible difference in its appearance from the white clouds that were floating about the sky.

Proceeding onward through hostile tribes of Indians, Fremont reached the first military frontier post — Fort Laramie; departing thence, in a short time, for the bases of the “great mountains.” With the change in the geological formation on leaving Fort Laramie, the whole face of the country appears entirely changed. Eastward of the meridian, the principal objects which strike the eye of the traveler are the absence of timber, and the immense expanse of prairie, covered with the verdure of rich grasses, and highly adapted for pasturage. Wherever they are not disturbed by the vicinity of man, large herds of buffalo give animation to this country.

Many sufferings were endured in reaching the Rocky Mountains, but the following details show that the labors of the party were amply rewarded. About six miles from their encampment brought the party to the summit of the South Pass. The ascent had been so gradual, that, with all the intimate knowledge possessed by Carson, the guide, and who had made that country his home for seventeen years, the party were obliged to watch very closely to find the place at which they had reached the culminating point. This was between two low hills, rising on either hand fifty or sixty feet. From the broken ground where this pass commences, at the foot of the Wind River Chain, the view to the south-east is over a champaign country, broken, at the distance of nineteen miles, by the Table Rock, which, with the other isolated hills in its vicinity, seemingly stands on a comparative plain. The ‘Pass’ in no manner resembles the places to which that term is commonly applied — nothing of the gorge-like character and winding ascents of the Alleghany passes in America, nor of the great St. Bernard and Simplon passes in Europe. Approaching from the mouth of the Sweet Water, a sandy plain, one hundred and twenty miles long, conducts, by a gradual and regular ascent, to the summit, about seven thousand feet above the sea; and the traveler, without being reminded of any change, by toilsome ascents, suddenly finds himself on the waters which flow to the Pacific ocean. On this short mountain-chain are the head-waters of four great rivers of the western continent, namely, the Colorado, Columbia, Missouri, and Platte rivers.

A scene of characteristic adventure was that of reaching the summit of these mountains. Putting hands and feet in the crevices between the blocks, Fremont succeeded in getting over it, and, on attaining the top, found his companions in a small valley below. Descending to them, they continued climbing, and in a short time reached the crest. He sprang upon the summit, and unfurled the national flag to wave in the breeze where never flag waved before.

During the morning’s ascent, no sign of animal life was met with, except a small sparrow-like bird. A stillness the most profound and a solitude the most terrible forced themselves constantly on the mind as the great features of the place. Here, on the summit, where the stillness was absolute, unbroken by any sound, and the solitude complete, the explorers thought themselves beyond the region of animated life; but, while they were sitting on the rock, a solitary bumble-bee came winging his flight from the eastern valley, and lit on the knee of one of the men. It was a strange place, the icy rock and the highest peak of the Rocky Mountains, for a lover of warm sunshine and flowers. The barometer stood at 18.293, the attached thermometer at 44 degrees; giving for the elevation of this summit 13,570 feet above the sea, it may be called the highest known flight of the bee. From this presumed loftiest peak of the great mountain range, — since known as Fremont’s Peak, — could be seen innumerable lakes and streams, the spring of the Colorado of the Gulf of California, on the one side; on the other, was the Wind River valley, where were the heads of the Yellow Stone branch of the Missouri; far to the north could be faintly descried the snowy heads of the Trois Tetons, where were the sources of the Missouri and Columbia rivers; and at the southern extremity of the ridge, the peaks were plainly visible, among which were some of the springs of the Nebraska, or Platte river. The whole scene around had one main striking feature, which was that of terrible convulsion. Parallel to its length, the ridge was split into chasms and fissures; between which rose the thin lofty walls, terminated with slender minarets and columns.

Fremont’s next tour was devoted to Oregon and California. On arriving at the Utah lake, he had completed an immense circuit of twelve degrees diameter north and south, and ten degrees east and west. They found themselves in May, 1844, on the same sheet of water which they had left in September, 1843. The Utah is the southern limb of the Great Salt Lake; and thus they had seen this remarkable sheet of water both at its northern and southern extremity, and were able to fix its position at these two points. In this eight months circuit, the explorers found that the mountains on the Pacific slope are higher, more numerous, and more distinctly defined in their ranges and directions, than those on the Atlantic side; and, what is contrary to the natural order of such formations, one of these ranges, which is near the coast — the Sierra Nevada and the Coast Range — presents higher elevations and peaks than any which are to be found in the Rocky Mountains themselves. During all this circuit, the party were never out of sight of snow; and the Sierra Nevada, where they crossed it, was nearly two thousand feet higher than the famous South Pass. Peaks are constantly seen which enter the region of eternal snow.

Differing so much from the Atlantic side of our continent in coast, mountains, and rivers, the Pacific side differs from it in yet another most rare and singular feature — that of the Great Interior Basin. The structure of the country would require this formation of interior lakes, for the waters which would collect between the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevada, not being able to cross this formidable barrier, nor to get to the Columbia or the Colorado, must naturally collect into reservoirs, each of which would have its little system of streams and rivers to supply it. The Great Salt Lake is a formation of this kind, and quite a large one, having many streams, and one considerable river, four or five hundred miles long, falling into it. Fremont saw this lake and river, and examined them; he also saw the Wahsatch and Bear River mountains inclosing the waters of the lake on the east, and constitute, in that quarter, the rim of the Great Basin. Afterwards, along the eastern base of the Sierra Nevada, where the party traveled for forty-two days, they saw the line of lakes and rivers which lie at the foot of that sierra, and which sierra is the western rim of the basin. In going down Lewis’s Fork, and the main Columbia, they crossed only inferior streams coming in from the left; and often saw the mountains at their heads, white with snow, which divided the waters of the desert from those of the Columbia, — the range of mountains forming the rim of the basin on its northern side. In returning from California along the Spanish trail, as far as the head of the Santa Clara Fork of the Rio Virgen, the party crossed only small streams making their way south to the Colorado, or lost in sand, as the Mo-hah-ve; while to the left, lofty mountains, their summits white with snow, were often visible — and which, Fremont , concluded, must have turned water to the north as well as to the south, thus constituting, on this part, the southern rim of the basin. At the head of the Santa Clara Fork, and in the Vegas de Santa Clara, they crossed the ridge which parted the two systems of waters. They entered the basin at that point, and continued for some time to travel in it, having its south-eastern rim — the Wahsatch mountain — on the right, and crossing the streams which flow down into it.

In this eventful exploration, all the great features of the western slope of our continent were brought to light the Great Salt Lake, the Utah Lake, the Little Salt Lake — at all which places, then desert, the Mormons now are; the Sierra Nevada, then solitary in the snow, now crowded with Americans, digging gold from its banks; the beautiful valleys of the Sacramento and San Joaquin, then alive with wild horses, elk, deer, and wild fowls, now smiling with American cultivation. The Great Basin itself, and its contents; the three Parks; the approximation of the great rivers which, rising together in the central region of the Rocky Mountains, go off east and west towards the rising and the setting sun, — all these, and other strange features of a new region, more Asiatic than American, were brought to light and revealed to public view in the results of this exploration. But the great pathfinder was to win laurels in still another field.

It was in May, 1845, that Fremont set out on his third expedition for the exploration of the Great West, and he was soon at the north end of the great Tla-math lake, and in Oregon. Hostilities being likely to break out between the United States and Mexico, Fremont, in order to avoid exciting any unjust suspicion as to the character of his movements, obtained leave of the Mexican general at Monterey, to encamp during the ensuing winter, in the San Joaquin valley. It was not long, however, before open diplomatic hostilities broke out between the two republics, and Fremont received word from his government to keep an eye upon Mexican and other designs upon California. General Kearney, by order of government, was constituted head of the army of the west, which was to retaliate sternly upon Mexico, for her assumed aggressions. New Mexico was soon prostrate before American arms. On the fifth of July, 1846, under the lead of Fremont, a band of Americans declared their independence of Mexico at Sonoma, a small town near San Francisco, and, not long after, they joined Commodore Sloat, who had recently reduced Monterey. The successor of Sloat was Stockton, who, in connection with Fremont, at once gained possession of Ciudad de los Angelos, the capital of Upper California; and one event speedily succeeded another, until, seemingly as inevitable as the gravitation of fate, the loss of California was consummated, and Fremont was appointed governor of the territory, which, largely through his efforts, had now become a permanent possession of the United States.

So curious a link in this chain of events, as the throwing off of the Mexican yoke at Sonoma, and illustrating so aptly, as it does, the intrepidity of the great explorer, possesses an interest peculiarly appropriate to this narrative. Having aided in clearing the enemy from the country north of the bay of San Francisco, Fremont returned to Sonoma on the evening of the fourth of July, and, on the morning of the fifth, called the people together, explained to them the condition of things in the province, and recommended an immediate declaration of independence. The declaration was made, and he was selected as governor, or chief director of affairs.

From Sonoma to Yerba Buena, (says one who accompanied him,) the little hamlet where now stands the queen city of the Pacific, Fremont augmented his stock of horses to the number of fifteen hundred, completely clearing the country; and then commenced one of the most peculiar races for a fight ever probably known. Rarely speaking but to urge on his men, or to question some passing native, taking the smallest modicum of refreshment, and watching while others snatched a moment’s repose, was he wrapped up in his project and determined to have some of the fight. Through San Pablo, and Monterey, and Josepha, they dashed like the phantom riders of the Hartz mountains, startling the inhabitants, and making the night-watcher cross himself in terror as their band flew on. The river Sacrificios was reached; swollen by the rains, it rolled on, a rapid, muddy stream; his men paused.

“Forward! Forward!” cried Fremont.

Dashing in himself, the struggle is a fierce one, but his gallant mustang breasts the current, and he reaches the opposite shore in safety; his men after a time join him, two brave fellows finding a watery grave, and many horses being carried down the stream; but nothing can now stop him — the heights adjacent to the Puebla appear — now a smile might be seen on the imperturbable visage of the leader — ’tis the sixth day, and the goal is won!

With ninety men on the last of his caravan of horses, he fell like a thunderbolt on the rear of the Mexicans. The day was with them; the little band of stout hearts guarding the presidio, taken by surprise, and not having the advantage of the Mexicans in regard to horses, were beginning to waver. But cheer up, cheer again — succor is at hand. On come those riders of Fremont — nothing can withstand their shock. With shouts of triumph they change the battle to a rout. The field is won! The rout of the enemy was complete, and so ended the ride of the one hundred. Thus did Fremont display, by the rarest achievements, the character of a consummate scientific explorer and brave soldier; and, for his pre-eminent services in behalf of geographical science, he received the highest honors from the learned societies of Europe and America, and a rich and massive gold medal from the king of Prussia, through the hands of Baron Humboldt.

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CONVENTION AT PHILADELPHIA

CONVENTION AT PHILADELPHIA

A change was now to be wrought, the grandeur of which would be acknowledged throughout all lands, and its importance reach forward to the setting of the sun of time. The same hall which had resounded with words of patriotic defiance that shook the throne of King George and proclaimed to an astonished world the Declaration of Independence, — that same hall in which congress had continued to sit during the greater part of the momentous period intervening, — in the state house at Philadelphia, was soon to witness the assembling of such a body of men as, in point of intellectual talent, personal integrity, and lofty purpose, had perhaps never before been brought together. The curious student of this page in modern history has sometimes plausibly but speciously attributed to mere chance — instead of to that Providence which rides in the affairs of men — this timely and grand event. Thus, General Washington, having contemplated with great interest a plan for uniting the Potomac and the Ohio rivers and by this means connecting the eastern and western waters, made a journey of six hundred and eighty miles on horseback, taking minute notes of everything which could be subservient to this project. His influence, and the real importance of the design, induced the legislatures of Virginia and Maryland to send commissioners to Alexandria to deliberate on the subject. They met in March, 1785, and having spent some time at Mount Vernon, determined to recommend another commission, which might establish a general tariff on imports. The Virginia legislature not only agreed, but invited the other states to send deputies to meet at Annapolis. In September, 1786, they had arrived from five only, and with too limited powers. A number of able statesmen, however, were thus assembled, who, feeling deeply the depressed and distracted state of the country, became sensible that something on a much greater scale was necessary to raise her to prosperity, and give her a due place among the nations. They therefore drew up a report and address to all the states, strongly representing the inefficiency of the present federal government, and earnestly urging them to send delegates to meet at Philadelphia in May, 1787. Congress responded to this proceeding in February, by the passage of resolutions recommending the proposed measure, — but of which, perhaps, they did not then contemplate all the momentous results.

On the day appointed for the meeting of the convention, May fourteenth, 1787, only a small number of the delegates had arrived in Philadelphia. The deliberations did not commence, therefore, until May twenty-fifth, when there were present twenty-nine members, representing nine states. Others soon after came in, until the whole number amounted to fifty-five. Never, perhaps, had any body of men combined for so great a purpose — to form a constitution which was to rule so numerous a people, and probably during so many generations. The members, consisting of the very ablest men in America, were not unworthy of, nor unequal to, so high a trust.

Towering above all these men of might, in his world-wide fame and in the genius of his personal ascendancy, was Washington, entrusted by the commonwealth of Virginia with the work of cementing together the sisterhood of states in one indissoluble bond of mutual interest, co-operation, and renown. And there was Rufus King, from Massachusetts, young in years, but mature in wisdom and brilliant in oratory; Langdon, from New Hampshire, strong in his understanding and readily mastering the most intricate details; Elbridge Gerry, of Massachusetts, exhibiting the utmost zeal and fidelity in the performance of his official duties; Caleb Strong, from the same state, plain in his appearance, but calm, firm, intelligent, and well-balanced; Ellsworth, from Connecticut, elegant in his manners, and distinguished for his energy of mind, clear reasoning powers, and effective eloquence; Sherman, his colleague, a statesman and jurist whose fame has extended far beyond the western world; Hamilton, from New York, spare and fragile in person, but keen, active, laborious, transcendent in his abilities and of unsullied integrity; Livingston, from New Jersey, of scholarly tastes, uncompromisingly republican in his politics, and fearless in the expression of his opinions; Franklin. from Pennsylvania, one of the profoundest philosophers in the world, and, though now rising of four score years, capable of grasping and throwing light upon the most recondite questions relating to the science of government; Robert Morris, from Pennsylvania, the great financier, of whom it has been said, and with much truth, that ‘the Americans owed, and still owe, as much acknowledgment to the financial operations of Robert Morris, as to the negotiations of Benjamin Franklin, or even to the arms of George Washington;’ Gouverneur Morris, from the same state, conspicuous for his accomplishments in learning, his fluent conversation, and sterling abilities in debate; Clymer, distinguished among the sons of Pennsylvania, as one of the first to raise a defiant voice against the arbitrary acts of the mother country; Mifflin, another delegate from the land of Penn, ardent almost beyond discretion, in zeal for his country’s rights and liberties; Dickinson, from New Jersey, a patriot, who, though the only member of the continental congress opposed to the Declaration of Independence, on the ground of its being premature, was nevertheless the only member of that body who immediately shouldered his musket and went forth to face the enemy; Wythe, from Virginia, wise, grave, deeply versed in the law, and undaunted in the defense of liberty for the people; Madison, also from Virginia, talented, thoughtful, penetrating, one of the brightest ornaments of his state and nation; Martin, from Maryland, a jurist of vast attainments and commanding powers; Davie, from North Carolina, of splendid physique, one of the master-minds of the country; Rutledge, from South Carolina, pronounced by Washington to be the finest orator in the continental congress; Pinckney, from the same state, a soldier and lawyer of unrivaled abilities; — and thus the record might go on, until it embraced all the names of this eminent assemblage of America’s noblest patriots and most illustrious historic characters, “all, all, honorable men.”

On proceeding with the organization of the convention, George Washington was nominated by Robert Morris to preside over its deliberations, and was unanimously elected. The standing rules were then adopted, one of these being that nothing spoken in the house be printed or otherwise published, or made known in any manner, without special permission. And in this connection, the following little episode, which has come to light, will doubtless be read as a refreshing reminiscence of the “secret” doings among those grave old worthies:

One of the members of the Georgia delegation was Mr. _______, a gentleman, the zeal of whose legislative mind and efforts sometimes quite ate up his attention to mere extraneous matters. Like all the rest of his associates in the assembly, he had been furnished with a schedule of the principal points of debate, or subjects of consideration, which were to be brought before the convention as constituting its business, and, in accordance with the parliamentary usage of secrecy, this programme of the convention’s duties and deliberations was with especial care to be kept from disclosure during the period of its sittings. It happened, however, that one of the delegates unfortunately lost his copy of this official schedule or orders of the day. General Mifflin, one of the delegates from Pennsylvania, by good chance discovered the stray document, and, explaining the circumstances to Washington, placed it in the latter’s hands, who, in silence and gravity, deposited it among his own papers. At the close of that day’s proceedings, and just previously to the convention’s rising, Washington, as presiding officer, called the attention of the assembly to the matter in question, in the following characteristic remarks:

“Gentlemen, I am sorry to find that some one member of this body has been so neglectful of the secrets of this convention, as to drop in the state house a copy of their proceedings — which, by accident, was picked up and delivered to me this morning. I must entreat gentlemen to be more careful, lest our transactions get into the newspapers, and disturb the public repose by premature speculations. I know not whose paper it is, but there it is (throwing it down on the table); let him who owns it take it.”

But to proceed with the historical sketch of this most august body of modern legislators.

They had been appointed merely with a view to the revision or improvement of the old articles of confederation, which still held them precariously together as a nation; yet they had not deliberated long, when they determined that the existing compact or system of government must be swept away. The question, however, as to what should be substituted in its place, was one of extreme difficulty. Mr. Randolph, of Virginia, opened the great discussion by a speech in which he laid bare the defects of the confederation, and then submitted a series of resolutions embodying the substance of a plan of government — the same, in character, as that contained in letters written by Mr. Madison to Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Randolph, and General Washington, a few months previous.

The plan in question proposed the formation of a general government, constituted as follows: The national legislature to consist of two branches — the members of the first branch to be elected by the people of the several states, and the members of the second branch to be elected by the first branch, out of a proper number nominated by the state legislatures; the national legislature to have a negative on all the state laws contravening the articles of union, and to have power to legislate in all cases where the states were incompetent; the right of suffrage in the legislature to be proportioned to the quota of contribution, or to the number of free inhabitants; a national executive to be chosen by the national legislature; a national judiciary, to consist of one or more supreme tribunals and inferior ones, the judges to be chosen by the national legislature; the executive, and a convenient number of the national judiciary, to compose a council of revision to examine every act of the national legislature before it should operate, and every act of a particular legislature before a negative thereon should be final; provision to be made for the admission of new states to the Union; a republican form of government to be administered in each state; provision to be made for amendments to the articles of union ; the legislative, executive, and judiciary powers, or officials, of the several states, to be bound by oath to support the articles of union.

A good degree of favor was shown to Mr. Randolph’s plan, but not sufficient to prevent other projects, conspicuous among these being one by Mr. Patterson, of New Jersey, and another by Alexander Hamilton, from being brought forward and urged by their respective friends, — all of these being republican in their general features, but differing in their details.

For some days, angry debates occurred which, but for the timely and healing wisdom of Dr. Franklin, the Mentor of the convention, would have ended in the breaking up of the body. As soon as there was an opening for him to speak, the doctor rose, and in a most impressive manner, said, among other things:

“It is to be feared that the members of this convention are not in a temper, at this moment, to approach the subject on which we differ, in a candid spirit. I would therefore propose, Mr. President, that, without proceeding further in this business at this time, the convention shall adjourn for three days, in order to let the present ferment pass off, and to afford time for a more full, free, and dispassionate investigation of the subject; and I would earnestly recommend to the members of this convention, that they spend the time of this recess, not in associating with their own party, and devising new arguments to fortify themselves in their old opinions, but that they mix with members of opposite sentiments, lend a patient ear to their reasoning?s, and candidly allow them all the weight to which they may be entitled; and when we assemble again, I hope it will be with a determination to form a constitution; if not such an one as we can individually, and in all respects, approve, yet the best which, under existing circumstances, can be obtained.” (Here the countenance of Washington brightened, and a cheering ray seemed to break in upon the gloom of the assembly.) The doctor continued:

“Before I sit down, Mr. President, I will suggest another matter; and I am really surprised that it has not been proposed by some other member, at an earlier period of our deliberations. I will suggest, Mr. President, the propriety of nominating and appointing, before we separate, a chaplain to this convention, whose duty it shall be uniformly to assemble with us, and introduce the business of each day by imploring the assistance of Heaven, and its blessing upon our deliberations.”

The doctor sat down, and never did a countenance appear at once so dignified and so delighted as that of Washington, at the close of this address. The motion for appointing a chaplain was instantly seconded and carried. The convention also chose a committee, by ballot, consisting of one from each state, to sit during the recess, and then adjourned for three days.

The three days were spent in the manner advised by Doctor Franklin. On re-assembling, the chaplain appeared and led the devotions of the assembly, and the minutes of the last sitting were read. All eyes were now turned to the venerable doctor. He rose, and in a few words stated, that during the recess he had listened attentively to all the arguments, pro and con, which had been urged by both sides of the house; that he had himself said much, and thought more, on the subject; he saw difficulties and objections, which might be urged by individual states, against every scheme which had been proposed; and he was now, more than ever, convinced that the constitution which they were about to form, in order to be just and equal, must be formed on the basis of compromise and mutual concession. With such views and feelings, he would now move a reconsideration of the vote last taken on the organization of the senate. The motion was seconded, the vote carried, the former vote rescinded, and by a successive motion and resolution, the senate was organized on the present plan.

On the seventeenth of September, the final debate closed, the last amendment was adopted, and the result of the convention’s labors was the formation of a constitution establishing a national government on the following prescribed principles: That the affairs of the people of the United States were thenceforth to be administered, not by a confederacy, or mere league of friendship between the sovereign states, but by a government, distributed into the three great departments — legislative, judicial, and executive; that the powers of government should be limited to concerns pertaining to the whole people, leaving the internal administration of each state, in time of peace, to its own constitution and laws, provided that they should be republican, and interfering with them as little as possible in case of war; that the legislative power of this government should be divided between the two assemblies, one representing directly the people of the separate states, and the other their legislatures; that the executive power of this government should be vested in one person chosen for four years, with certain qualifications of age and nativity, and invested with a qualified negative upon the enactment of the laws; and that the judicial power should consist of tribunals inferior and supreme, to be instituted and organized by congress, the judges removable only by impeachment.

Thus, finally amended, the constitution was signed by all the members present, except by Messrs. Randolph and Mason, of Virginia, and Gerry, of Massachusetts. The scene is described as one of historic solemnity, rising almost to the sublime. When Washington, whose turn came first, was about to sign the instrument ordained to be henceforth — if ratified by the several states — the palladium of his country’s national existence, and the formation of which he had watched over with such anxious solicitude, he rose from his seat, and holding the pen in his hand, after a short pause, pronounced these words:

“Should the states reject this excellent Constitution, the probability is that an opportunity will never again be offered to cancel another in peace — the next will be drawn in blood.”

And when, following the example of their illustrious leader, the other members of the convention appended their signatures, Doctor Franklin, with his eye fixed upon the presiding officer’s seat, in the rear of which was the picture of a halo or sun, made the characteristic remark:

“I have often and often, in the course of the session, and in the vicissitudes of my hopes and fears as to its issue, looked at that sun behind the president, without being able to tell whether it was rising or sinking; at length I have the happiness to know it is a rising and not a setting sun.”

The convention, however, which framed the constitution, was not clothed with legislative power, nor was the congress of the confederation competent to accept it or reject the new form of government. It was referred by them to the several states, represented by conventions of the people; and it was provided in the instrument itself, that it should become the supreme law of the land, when adopted by nine states. It was not till the summer of 1788 that the ratification of nine states was obtained, beginning with Delaware, some by large, and some by very small majorities. The violence of the opposition party was in some sections very great, resulting, in New York, in tumultuous riots. Of the thirteen original states, Rhode Island was the last to accept the constitution, which she did in May, 1790.

The year of suspense, while the American people were debating the great question whether to accept or reject the constitution offered them by Washington and his associate compatriots, was, on the announcement of the result, succeeded by a national jubilee.