On motion of Mr. Buckalew, of Pennsylvania, a committee was appointed to consider the ventilation and sanitary condition of the Senate wing of the Capitol; and the committee made an elaborate report.
July 23d, while the Senate had under consideration the bill making appropriations for sundry civil expenses of the Government, this Senator moved an amendment appropriating $117,685.25 for improvements approved and recommended in the report. In the debate that ensued, Mr. Sumner said:—
MR. PRESIDENT,—The Senator from Pennsylvania has entitled himself to the gratitude of all his brethren for the attention he has bestowed upon an uninviting subject, which concerns the comfort of the Senate,—I was about to say, the character of our legislation; for, while breathing this anomalous atmosphere, legislation itself must too often suffer with our bodies. But he will pardon me, if I suggest that he is not sufficiently radical in his proposition. I am aware that he is unwilling to be thought radical. The name is not pleasant to him.
Mr. Buckalew. I have no distaste for the name. I claim to be very radical on some subjects.
Mr. Sumner. Very well. I hope he will be radical now,—in other words, that he will be thorough in his remedy for the present case.
Catching a phrase from ancient Rome, the Senator says that the roof over our heads must be destroyed, as if it were another Carthage. To my mind, this is not enough; the walls by which we are shut in must be destroyed. Our present difficulty is less with the roof than with the surrounding inclosure, separating us entirely from the open air and the light of day. Windows are natural ventilators; but we have none. Let this chamber be brought to the open air and the light of day, and Nature will do the rest. From its commanding position on a beautiful eminence, where every breeze can reach it, the Capitol will have an invigorating supply from every quarter. I doubt if any public edifice in the world can compare in site with that enjoyed by it,—and I do not forget the monumental structures of London, Paris, Vienna, or Rome. But in entering this stone cage with glass above, we renounce the advantages and opportunities of this unparalleled situation.
I would have all this massive masonry about us taken down, and the chamber brought to the windows. This change would make ventilation easy, and secure all that the Senator so anxiously recommends. It is more revolutionary than his plan. It will be expensive, very expensive, I fear; for the very completeness of the original work is an impediment to change. This Capitol, as we all see, is built for immortality. Its disadvantages will not be less permanent than its advantages, unless we apply ourselves resolutely to their revision. Without legislation and positive effort on our part, this chamber will continue uncomfortable for generations and long centuries. Senators after us, in thickening ranks, will sit here as uncomfortable as ourselves. If not for ourselves, then for those who come after us, we should initiate a change.
Besides bringing this chamber to the windows, its proportions should be reduced,—I am disposed to say one half. A chamber of one half the size would answer every purpose of business, and not fail essentially even on occasions of display. Everything is now sacrificed to the galleries. Senators are treated as the gladiators of the ancient amphitheatre, not to make “a Roman holiday,” but a Washington show. As many as fourteen or fifteen hundred people are constantly gathered in these galleries. But such surrounding multitudes are plainly inconsistent with the quiet transaction of business and the simple tone which belongs to legislation.