CONSTITUTION OF CALIFORNIA.
The desires of the people of California for a civil government, suited to their new condition, at length found utterance at the ballot-box. The best informed and most sedate of her citizens were elected in their several districts, and commissioned to proceed to Monterey, for the purpose of drafting in concert the provisions of a constitution. Never were interests, habits, and associations more diverse than those represented in this body. Unanimity could be reached only through the largest concessions. It was the conquerors and the conquered, the conservatives and the progressives; they who owned the lands, and they who worked the mines, assembling to frame organic laws which should equally secure and bind the interests of all. No cloud ever cast its shadow on equal incongruities grouped in cliffs and chasms, pinnacles and precipices, without having it broken into a thousand fragments. But the honest and patriotic purpose which animated the convention, raised that body above all national prejudice and local interests, and poured its spirit in blending power over its measures. They had been commissioned to plan and perfect a constitution for California, and they were true to their trust. Day after day they labored at that eventful instrument; no passion, no prejudice disturbed their counsels: where opinions clashed, they were softened; where interests jarred, they were harmonized; where local feeling sought assertion, it was surrendered. Till at last, through this spirit of deference, compromise, and public concern, the instrument was finished. And now let us glance at its prominent features.
This constitution is thoroughly democratic; no prescriptive privileges, or invidious distinctions are recognized; the interests of the great mass fill every provision. Political and social equality are its bases, while the rights of private judgment and individual conscience flow untrammelled through its spirit. It is the embodiment of the American mind, throwing its convictions, impulses, and aspirations into a tangible, permanent shape. It is the creed of the thousands who wield the plough, the plane, the hammer, the trowel, and spade. It is the palladium of freedom, rolled in from the seaboard, and down from the mountains, and which has caught its echoes from every river, steep, and valley. It is the fraternal oath of a great people, uttered in the presence of God and the hearing of nations. Millions will turn their eyes to the fulfilment of its promises, when time and disaster have engulfed the monuments of their own splendor and strength.
The 13th of October, 1849, will never fade from the annals of California. It was not the sun, circling up into a broad and brilliant heaven, that gave this morn its brightness: it was not the thunder of the Pacific on the sea-beaten strand, that gave the day its impressive force: it was not the long heavy roll of the artillery that most signalized the hour; nor the harmony of the winds rolling their anthems from the steep forests that stirred most strongly the human heart. It was the silent signatures of the members of the convention to the constitution, which had been confided to their wisdom and patriotic fidelity. It was this last crowning act in an eventful moral enterprise, having its source in the exigences of a great community. I wonder not the old pioneer of the Sacramento pronounced it the greatest day of his life; I wonder not that the veteran “Hero of Contreras” forgot the laurels gathered on that field of fame, in the higher and nobler honors showered upon him in this day’s achievements. It was his steady purpose and fearless responsibility that threw into organized forms and practical results, the plans and purposes of the people of California. He will find his reward in the happiness and prosperity of a great state, over which the flag of the Union shall never cease to wave. The tide of Anglo-Saxon blood stops not here; it is to circulate on other shores, continents, and isles; its progress is blent with the steady triumphs of commerce, art, civilization, and religion. It will yet flow the globe round, and beat in every nation’s pulse; morn will not blush, or twilight fade where its swelling wave is not; its guiding-star is above the disasters in which the purposes of man are sphered.
I regret my limits will not permit me to follow the Pacific squadron, under the command of Com. Shubrick, to the Mexican coast. The capture and occupation of Mazatlan has hardly stirred a whisper in the trump of fame, which has poured out such strains on the other side of the continent. And yet this achievement of the commodore had in it a spirit of wisdom, resolution, and firmness that might emblazon a much loftier page than mine. When the history of the Mexican war shall be written, and the services of those who shared in its hardships and perils be duly recognized, Com. Shubrick, with the gallant officers and brave men attached to his command, will receive a lasting meed of merited renown. It is now silently written in that international compact which terminated the apprehensions of one republic and sealed the triumphs of another. It was the waving of the stars and stripes on the strand of the Pacific which left a forlorn hope without a refuge, and coerced the terms of an honorable peace; and long may that peace remain unbroken by the monster of discord and war.
CHAPTER XXXI.
GLANCES AT TOWNS SPRUNG AND SPRINGING.—SAN FRANCISCO.—BENICIA.—SACRAMENTO CITY.—SUTTER.—VERNON.—BOSTON.—STOCKTON.—NEW YORK.—ALVEZO.—STANISLAUS.—SONORA.—CRESCENT CITY.—TRINIDAD.
The growth of towns in California is so rapid, that before you can sketch the last, a new one has sprung into existence. You go to work on this, and dash down a few features, when another glimmers on your vision, till at last you become like the English surgeon at the battle of Waterloo; who began by bandaging individuals, but found the wounded brought in so fast he declared he must splinter by the regiment.
San Francisco.—This town has thrice been laid in ashes; but the young phœnix has risen on ampler wings than those which steadied the consumed form of its parent. It must be the great commercial emporium of California in spite of competition, wind, and flame. Its direct connection with the sea, its magnificent bay and internal communications, have settled the question of its ultimate grandeur. It may be afflicted with grog-shops and gamblers, and the mania of speculation, but these are temporary evils which time, a higher moral tone, and the more steady pursuits of man will remedy. Three years ago only a dozen shanties sprinkled its sand-hills; now, even with its heart burnt out, it looks like the skeleton of a huge city. That heart will be reconstructed, and send the life-blood leaping through the system.
Benicia.—This town on the straits of Carquinas has the advantages of a bold shore, a quiet anchorage, and depth of water for ships of any size. Even without being a port of entry, it must become in time a large commercial depot. The small craft which float the waters of the Suisun, Sacramento, and San Joaquin, and which are ill suited to the rough bay below, will here deposit their cargoes. It has been selected as the most feasible site for a navy yard, and the army stores are already housed on its quay. It was first selected as the site of a city by Robert Semple, president of the Constitution Convention, and rose rapidly into importance under his fostering care, and the energetic measures of Thomas O. Larkin.