Banks jumped to his feet, and said in his high-pitched voice: "I do not know that my colleague ever did, but I always thought that he was just about to."
General Banks served during the six years that I was a member of the House, and several terms afterwards, his public service ending with the Fifty-first Congress. He died at his home in Massachusetts, in 1894.
Daniel W. Voorhees was another celebrated member of the Thirty- ninth Congress, and was later a Senator from Indiana. Senator Voorhees was a very able man and a zealous, consistent Democrat. He was charged, and I have no doubt at all that it was true, with being a Rebel sympathizer, and a prominent member of the Knights of the Golden Circle. A fine, gifted speaker, a kind-hearted gentleman, he was very popular with the people of Indiana. Dan Voorhees and Thomas A. Hendricks, who was afterward Vice-President of the United States, were the two most prominent Democrats of Indiana in all its history, and indeed were two of the foremost Democrats of the North.
Senator Voorhees' seat, as a member of the House in the Thirty- ninth Congress, was successfully contested; and I can see him now, with his imposing presence, making his final speech in the House, after the result of the contest had become known. Garbed in a long cloak, he defended his right to his seat with the greatest dignity. The vote was taken; his opponent was seated; then he drew his cloak about him, and with the air of a king, walked out of the House, almost triumphantly. I had voted against him, but the dignity with which he carried off the occasion certainly commanded my deepest admiration.
He was a great admirer of Mr. Lincoln. He knew him well; had been associated with him in many lawsuits on the circuit, at Danville, and in the eastern part of the State; and although they belonged to opposing political parties, he evinced for Lincoln a very warm feeling.
Senator Voorhees once told me a rather interesting story in connection with President Lincoln. It was the occasion of the dedication of what was known as the Foundery Methodist Church in Washington. Mr. Lincoln was present, Voorhees was there, and Bishop Simpson delivered the dedicatory address. The bishop was an eloquent speaker and his sermon was a characteristic one. The President was seated in an armchair in front of the pulpit, with his back to the minister, and after the sermon was over, an effort was at once made to raise funds to pay the debt of the church. This phase of the meeting was tiresomely protracted, the minister, in the customary style, earnestly urging an unresponsive congregation to contribute until nearly every inducement had been exhausted. Finally someone started a movement to raise a certain definite amount of money, the achievement of which would make the President a life member of some church society. But even this scheme was not accepted with much enthusiasm, and Bishop Simpson renewed his plea for donations. At last Mr. Lincoln, who had been growing tired and bored at the performance, craned his head around toward Bishop Simpson, and said in a tone that everybody heard: "Simpson, if you will stop this auction I will pay the money myself."
And since Bishop Simpson's name has been mentioned, another incident in which he figured is suggested, which might as well be related here.
In the Methodist Church Bishop Simpson's name is a household word. He was one of its most prominent divines, and in sympathy with that branch which remained loyal to the Union. Naturally he was a great admirer of Mr. Lincoln—in fact, so close was he to the President that it was his influence that secured the appointment of Senator Harlan of Iowa as Secretary of the Interior. What follows will demonstrate that this statement is not made on hearsay.
Several prominent men of Illinois, and other parts of the country, were in Washington trying to secure the appointment of Uncle Jesse K. Dubois (the father of Senator Dubois of Idaho who served in the United States Senate two terms with great credit to himself and State), as Secretary of the Interior. Uncle Jesse Dubois was there himself, and we all met one evening at the National Hotel, at which meeting I was designated to go to the White House and use my influence with President Lincoln in Uncle Jesse's behalf. Uncle Jesse had no business coming to Washington when he was being pushed for a cabinet office; but he did, nevertheless, and he was not in good health. About ten o'clock at night I saw the President, and laid before him Uncle Jesse's claims. His reply was:
"I cannot appoint him. I must appoint Senator Harlan. I promised Bishop Simpson to do so. The Methodist Church has been standing by me very generally; I agreed with Bishop Simpson to give Senator Harlan this place, and I must keep my agreement. I would like to take care of Uncle Jesse, but I do not see that I can as a member of my cabinet."