“When Mr. Lowndes took his seat in the House, it was apparent to all that his frail and diseased frame betokened an early death, though he was then only in the forty-first year of his age. He was considerably above six feet in height, and was much stooped in person. There was nothing striking in his countenance to indicate great and varied intellectual powers. As a speaker he was persuasive and convincing. Though earnest and decided in the discussion of great questions, he never uttered a word which could give personal offence to his opponents or leave a sting behind. His eloquence partook of his own gentle and unpretending nature. His voice had become feeble and husky, and when he rose to speak, the members of the House, without distinction of party, clustered around him so that they might hear every word which fell from his lips. Towards his antagonists he was the fairest debater ever known in Congress. It was his custom to state their arguments so strongly and clearly that John Randolph, on one occasion, exclaimed: ‘He will never be able to answer himself.’ He possessed all the varied information necessary to the character of a great American statesman; and this, not merely in regard to general principles, but to minute practical details.
“On one occasion it became his duty, as Chairman of the Committee on Commerce, in the House, to present a history of the origin, progress and character of our trade with the East Indies. This he did with such fulness and precision that Mr. Silsbee, a well-informed and much-respected member of the House, and afterwards a Senator from Massachusetts, declared in his place, that although he had been engaged in that trade for many years, the gentleman from South Carolina had communicated to the House important information and shed new light on the subject which had never been known to him. On another occasion, two young members made a wager that Mr. Lowndes could not promptly state the process of manufacturing a common pin. On propounding the question to him, he at once stated the whole process in minute detail.
“Mr. Lowndes’ great influence,—for he was the undisputed leader in the House—arose in no small degree from the conviction of its members that he never had a sinister or selfish purpose in view, but always uttered the genuine sentiments of his heart. Mr. Lowndes had not the least jealousy in his nature. In his social intercourse with his fellow-members he was ever ready and willing to impart his stores of information on any subject, without feeling the least apprehension that these might be used to anticipate what he himself intended to say, or in debate against himself. His health continuing to decline, he resigned his seat in the House, and by the advice of his physicians, embarked in October, 1822, from Philadelphia in the ship Moss, with his wife and daughter, for London. He died on the passage, on the 27th of that month, and was buried at sea.
“His death was announced in the House of Representatives on the 21st of January, 1823, by Mr. James Hamilton, his successor. This was the first occasion on which such honors had been paid to the memory of any one not a member of the House at the time of his decease. Among the eulogies pronounced was one by John W. Taylor, of New York, who had been the Speaker of the House during the session immediately preceding. He had been an active and able opponent of Mr. Lowndes throughout the debates and proceedings on the Missouri question, which had for two years convulsed the House and the country, until its settlement at the close of the last session. Coming from a political antagonist, it so graphically presents the true character of Mr. Lowndes, that I am tempted to copy a portion of it. After referring to his death, as ‘the greatest misfortune which had befallen the Union’ since he had held a seat in its councils, he proceeds: ‘The highest and best hopes of this country looked to William Lowndes for their fulfillment. The most honorable office in the civilized world—the Chief Magistracy of this free people—would have been illustrated by his virtues and talents. During nine years’ service in this House, it was my happiness to be associated with him on many of its most important committees. He never failed to shed new light on all subjects to which he applied his vigorous and discriminating mind. His industry in discharging the arduous and responsible duties constantly assigned him, was persevering and efficient. To manners the most unassuming, to patriotism the most disinterested, to morals the most pure, to attainments of the first rank in literature and science, he added the virtues of decision and prudence, so happily combined, so harmoniously united, that we knew not which most to admire, the firmness with which he pursued his purpose or the gentleness with which he disarmed opposition. His arguments were made not to enjoy the triumph of victory, but to convince the judgment of his hearers; and when the success of his efforts was most signal, his humility was most conspicuous. You, Mr. Speaker, will remember his zeal in sustaining the cause of our country in the darkest days of the late war.’
“The whole House, with one accord, responded to the truthfulness of these sentiments so happily expressed by Mr. Taylor. And yet, strange to say, the published debates of Congress contain but a meagre and imperfect sketch, and offer no report at all of the speeches of this great and good man. His fame as a parliamentary speaker, like that of the great commoner, Charles James Fox, must mainly rest upon tradition now fast fading away. The editors of the National Intelligencer truly remark that, ‘of all the distinguished men who have passed periods of their lives in either House of Congress, there is certainly no one of anything like equal ability who has left fewer traces on the page of history or on the records of Congress than William Lowndes, the eminent Representative in Congress for several years of the State of South Carolina.’ The reason which they assign why so few of his eloquent speeches are to be found on record is attributable, in part, to his unfeigned diffidence, which placed less than their true value upon his own exertions, and in part to an objection which he had, on principle, to the practice of writing out speeches for publication, either before or after the delivery. Little or no reliance could be placed on the reporters of that day. The art even of shorthand writing was almost unknown in this country, and the published sketches prepared by the so-called reporters, were calculated to injure rather than to elevate the character of the speaker.
“How much has been lost to the country by the scruples of Mr. Lowndes may be imagined from the ‘little gem’ of a speech written out by him at the personal request of Mr. Silsbee, then a member of the House, on the bill for the relief of the family of Commodore Perry, but never published until more than twenty years after his death. It does not appear in the annals of 1821 that he made any speech on this occasion. It may be added, to show the incapacity of the reporters of that day, that there is no other mention of his speech against the bankrupt bill, commenced on February 21st, and concluded on March 5th, 1822, though listened to with rapt attention by the House, except that he did speak on these two days. From physical exhaustion he was unable to say all he had intended on this important subject. His name does not even appear in the index as a speaker on this bill.
“I have written much more than I should otherwise have done, to repair injustice done to the character of the ablest, purest, and most unselfish statesman of his day.”[[9]]
Of John Randolph and John Sergeant, Mr. Buchanan thus records his recollections:
John Randolph of Roanoke was the most conspicuous, though far from the most influential member of the House, when I first took my seat. He entered the House in 1799, and had continued there, with the exception of two terms, from that early period. His style of debate was in perfect contrast to that of Mr. Lowndes. He was severe and sarcastic, sparing neither friend nor foe, when the one or the other laid himself open to the shafts of his ridicule. He was a fine belles-lettres scholar, and his classical allusions were abundant and happy. He had a shrill and penetrating voice, and could be heard distinctly in every portion of the House. He spoke with great deliberation, and often paused for an instant as if to select the most appropriate word. His manner was confident, proud, and imposing, and pointing, as he always did, his long forefinger at the object of attack, he gave peculiar emphasis to the severity of his language. He attracted a crowded gallery when it was known he would address the House, and always commanded the undivided attention of his whole audience, whether he spoke the words of wisdom, or, as he often did, of folly. For these reasons he was more feared than beloved, and his influence in the House bore no proportion to the brilliancy of his talents. He was powerful in pulling down an administration, but had no skill in building anything up. Hence he was almost always in the opposition, but was never what is called a business member. To me he was uniformly respectful, and sometimes complimentary in debate. I well remember Mr. Sergeant putting me on my guard against Mr. Randolph’s friendship.”
“Mr. Sergeant entered the House in December, 1815, and had continued to be a member since that day. As a lawyer, he stood in the front rank among the eminent members of the bar of Philadelphia, at a period when its members were greatly distinguished throughout the country for ability and learning. His personal character was above reproach. From his first appearance he maintained a high rank in the estimation of the House. As a debater, he was clear and logical, and never failed to impart information. His fault was that of almost every member of Congress who had become a member after a long and successful training at the bar. He was too exhaustive in his arguments, touching every point in the question before the House without discriminating between those which were vital and those which were subordinate. His manner was cold and didactic, and his prolixity sometimes fatigued the House. In his social intercourse with the members, he was cold but not repulsive. The high estimation in which he was held, arose from the just appreciation of his great abilities, and of his pure and spotless private character. There was nothing ad captandum about him. He was regarded by his constituents in Philadelphia with pride and affection, who generally spoke of him as ‘our John Sergeant.’”