Bouquets today, storm of brickbats tomorrow – Washington Quarter Coin

Today, the Washington Quarter Coin remembers the decision of the electors 227 years ago.

In the magazine America, dated January 15, 1910, an article by H. J. Swift titled Cradle Days of the Republic told of that eventful day and remembered the struggles of the first president and first Congress under the new Constitution.

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On February 4, 1789, the first Electoral College elected George Washington and John Adams President and Vice-President respectively of that latest venture on the political sea, the United States of America.

Almost thirteen years had passed since Lexington and Bunker Hill, years of suffering and contention even if not of unremittent military activity, and the country was at last taking a step more important than even the Declaration of Independence.

For it is comparatively easy to pull down, that was the only thing accomplished by the Declaration; but to build up and to make sure of the building are matters of much greater difficulty.

When independence had been secured and a Constitution had been adopted, the first presidential electors chosen in accordance with its provisions were by no means of one mind in their opinion of the Organic Law.

Of the seventy three members of the first Electoral College, four dozen at most were its ardent admirers and supporters, yet with striking unanimity each one of the sixty-nine who actually voted placed Washington first.

In making their second choice ten candidates were “remembered” with from one to nine votes, but John Adams received thirty four and was declared elected Vice-President.

Adams had advocated the appointment of Washington to the command of the patriot army; he had served ably on all kinds of committees in the Continental Congress; he had represented the struggling States abroad; and in all respects, he had been consistently energetic and loyal.

Very probably the difference in the number of votes polled by the two placed Washington and Adams in so sharp a contrast that the first Vice-President, whose most shining trait was not humility, felt far from being soothed or flattered.

Although, to use his own words, Adams looked upon the vice-presidency as “ the most insignificant office that ever the invention of man contrived,” he turned it to good account, for, on as many as twenty occasions, his deciding vote saved administration measures in the Senate, so far were the first senators from being in accord with the first President in matters of public policy.

It is no new thing, then, for a President to meet with active and energetic antagonism from the Congress.

While Washington was on his way to New York where his inauguration was to take place, cities, societies, and educational and religious bodies presented formal addresses.

In replying to an address in Baltimore, he said, almost prophetically: “I hold it of little moment if the close of my life shall be embittered, provided I shall have been instrumental in securing the liberties and promoting the happiness of the American people.”

When he reached New York he was met by the members of the first Congress, Governor Clinton and a throng of notables, and ceremoniously conducted to the residence prepared for him.

The New York Gazette of April 24, 1789, took due notice of the arrival of the liberator of his country.

On April 30, 1789, Washington took the oath of office.

“Long live George Washington!”

The President must have felt more than a passing thrill of exultation as he looked upon the rejoicing throng and listened to their acclamations.

This was the outcome of what had begun in petition and remonstrance to the king, had gone on through the suffering of Valley Forge, had striven against the apathy of some, the mercenary spirit of others and the petty jealousy of many.

Enthusiasm is contagious. “Laugh, and the world laughs with you.”

The unthinking and emotional catch the exhilaration of the moment, but in the slow, plodding, continuous effort towards the attainment of a high ideal, their spirits sink as far below the normal level as they had risen above it.

The President’s first message to the Congress showed how impressed he was with the responsibility of his position.

“Heaven can never smile,” he wrote, “on a nation that disregards the eternal principles of order and right. The preservation of liberty, and the destiny of the republican model of government are justly considered as deeply, perhaps finally, staked on the experiment entrusted to the American people.”

The newborn union was an experiment.

If it was to succeed and perpetuate to generations yet to come the blessings that had been so clearly won, there should be fostered a highminded, patriotic regard for order and right, not as the exclusive privilege of the few but the priceless heritage of all.

There had been many republics. but they had degenerated into oligarchical or autocratic despotisms.

If a nation adopts and applies the principle that might makes right, that nation is smelting the metal for shackles with which a mightier nation will one day fetter it.

Too much power and too much wealth are as dangerous to nations as they are to individuals, for they lead to contempt for those that are weak and poor.

Washington had a well-defined policy, the fruit of much deep thought.

He would uphold the union, for he understood what was called, even at that early day, “the Southern genius of America,” he would restore the public credit and would establish an American system in the foreign relations of the republic.

His great object was to secure the constant and consistent cooperation that so great an undertaking imperatively demanded. When the curtain rises, the habitual “first nighter” may applaud generously, yet his highest motive may be one of expectant curiosity.

Others may join in and make the performance a “success.”

The boyish game of “follow the leader” is reproduced among the adults, sometimes for weal, sometimes for woe, so prone are many to range themselves under the leadership of one who catches their volatile fancy.

Public favor is a fickle jade.

The statesman who is welcomed with a shower of bouquets today may be greeted with a storm of brickbats tomorrow.

When Washington first pronounced the oath of office, cheers and plaudits filled the air; before he retired to private life, he was openly assailed with coarse abuse.

The Ship of State met stormy weather.

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The Washington Quarter Coin shows beside a portrait of the president, circa 1793.

Washington Quarter Coin