From that time forward he cultivated his large estate with much care, serving one term in the senate of his State, declining a renomination. In 1886 he was elected to the Fiftieth Congress from the Eighth Congressional district of Virginia, and again in 1888 to the Fifty-first Congress, and still again in 1890 to the present Congress.
It was my privilege and pleasure to form his acquaintance in the army and to watch his flashing blade amid the carnage of battle, observe his cool courage and intrepid bearing and the love and confidence of his men upon more than one sanguinary field. He was as calm when the leaden hail was rattling and as cool when the shells were shrieking and bursting as he was upon this floor. He was a leader, not a follower of his men; if they went into the jaws of death, he was at their head. He fared as his men fared; if their haversacks were empty, his was empty; if they laid down in the mud, he laid there too; if they sweltered in the summer heat or shivered in the winter blast, he sweltered or shivered too; and thus it was he kindled in the breasts of his men intense love for himself and secured their implicit confidence in his leadership.
The promotions he received, rising from a captain to a major-general, speak in terms stronger than any words of mine of his courage and valor and his qualities as a soldier and military chieftain.
As a civilian, pursuing the quiet walks of rural life and devoting himself to agriculture, the noblest of all arts, he was honored by all the people and drew to him his neighbors, binding them with the steely bands of constant friendship. His word was as good as his bond, and the dusky son of toil as well as the intelligent tenant on his wide possessions relied upon it with absolute faith; and the most beautiful tribute that could be paid to his memory was the deep sorrow which manifested itself in a meeting after his death of those whose brawny muscle had held the plow-handles and whose toil had made the corn and the wheat grow on his rich and fertile fields.
In politics he was a Democrat, and he was as pure in the political arena as in private life. He scorned the ways of the demagogue and the timeserver, and believed that "men should be what they seem." In the councils of his State and in the councils of the nation he was found at all times in full accord with the principles and policy of his party.
As a Representative he was as true to his constituents as any subject to his sovereign, laboring in season and out of season to serve them, and even when his strong frame began to weaken and the germs of disease had been planted in his system he disregarded the warning calls for rest and continued to bend all his energies in the discharge of his trust, and I but speak the truth when I say that he fell a martyr to duty.
But, Mr. Speaker, while he was grand as a soldier, pure as a man, exalted as a citizen, and faithful as a Representative, it was in the home circle, as husband and father, and not on the battlefield, in civil life, or in the halls of legislation, that the beauty and loveliness of his character drew a halo around him.
He loved home, and it had a charm for him which neither pleasures, honors, nor fame could pluck from his bosom. Blessed by the companionship of one worthy of all adoration, and who presided like a queen over his household, entering into all his joys, sharing all his sorrows, and encouraging all his aspirations, he loved the breezes that kissed her cheeks, the birds that made sweet music to her ear, the rivulets that gently murmured her name, the flowers that shed their fragrance in her bowers, and the stately oaks under which the children of their union had prattled and the pebbled walks upon which they had played and gamboled.
Yes, he loved home, and in its sacred circle his presence was like a sunbeam, brightening every face and warming every heart. He was all patience, gentleness, kindness, and love, and if there ever was a home which was a fit emblem of heaven it was Ravensworth, the home of this distinguished man.
Mr. Speaker, he is gone. He lives now only in memory. In October last, when the frosts were blighting and the leaves were falling and the autumnal winds were sighing, after patient waiting for the fatal hour it came, and God's finger touched him, and the brave soldier, honored citizen, faithful Representative, devoted husband, and affectionate father was dead.