History of the Thirty-Ninth Congress of the United States

by William Horatio Barnes

While the Senate was thus actively entering upon the labors of the session, a somewhat different scene was transpiring in the other end of the Capitol.

Long before the hour for the assembling of Congress, the halls, the galleries, and corridors of the House of Representatives were thronged with such crowds as had never before been seen at the opening of a session. The absorbing interest felt throughout the entire country in the great questions to be decided by Congress had drawn great numbers to the Capitol from every quarter of the Union. Eligible positions, usually held in reserve for certain privileged or official persons, and rarely occupied by a spectator, were now filled to their utmost capacity. The Diplomatic Gallery was occupied by many unskilled in the mysteries of diplomacy; the Reporters' Gallery held many listeners and lookers on who had no connection with newspapers, save as readers. The "floor" was held not only by the "members," who made the hall vocal with their greetings and congratulations, but by a great crowd of pages, office-seekers, office-holders, and unambitious citizens, who thronged over the new carpet and among the desks.

The hour having arrived for the assembling of Congress, Edward McPherson, Clerk of the last House of Representatives, brought down the gavel on the Speaker's desk, and called the House to order. The members found their seats, and the crowd surged back up the aisles, and stood in a compact mass in the rear of the last row of desks.

Edward McPherson, who at that moment occupied the most prominent and responsible place in the nation, had come to his position through a series of steps, which afforded the country an opportunity of knowing his material and capacity. A graduate of Pennsylvania College in 1848, editor, author, twice a Congressman, and Clerk of the House of Representatives in the Thirty-eighth Congress, he had given evidence that he was reliable. Having shown himself a thoroughly conscientious man in the performance of all his public duties, the great interests of the nation were safe in his hands.

The country had been greatly concerned to know how the Clerk would make up the Roll of the House, and whether the names of members elect from the late rebellious States would be called at the opening of the session. If this should be done, the first step would be gained by the Representatives of those States toward holding seats in Congress to which the majority at the North considered them not entitled. It had even been intimated that the color of constitutionality which they would gain from recognition by the Clerk would be used to justify an assertion of their claims by force. What the Clerk would do, as master of the rolls and presiding officer of the House, was not long in doubt.

The Clerk proceeded to call the roll of Representatives elect, while the subordinates at the desk took note of the responses. He called the names of Congressmen from the States of Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, and so forth, in a certain order which had been customary time immemorial in naming the States. In this order Tennessee had place after Kentucky and before Indiana. When the name of the last Representative from Kentucky had been called, the decisive moment arrived. The delegation from Tennessee were on the floor, ready to answer to their names. The Clerk passed over Tennessee and went direct to Indiana. As soon as the first member from Indiana had responded, there arose a tall, black-haired, dark-faced figure, that every body recognized as Horace Maynard, of Tennessee. He shook his certificate of election at the Clerk, and began to speak, but the gavel came down with a sharp rap, and a firm, decided voice was heard from the desk, "The Clerk declines to have any interruption during the call of the roll." The roll-call then proceeded without further interference to the end. When, at last, the Clerk had finished his list of Representatives and Territorial Delegates, Mr. Maynard once more arose. "The Clerk can not be interrupted while ascertaining whether a quorum is present," says the presiding officer. The count of the assistants having been completed, the Clerk announced, "One hundred and seventy-six members having answered to their names, a quorum is present." Mr. Morrill immediately moved that the House proceed to the election of Speaker. "Before that motion is put," said Mr. Maynard, again arising. The Clerk was ready for the emergency, and before Mr. Maynard could complete his sentence, he uttered the imperative and conclusive words, "The Clerk can not recognize as entitled to the floor any gentleman whose name is not on this roll." A buzz of approbation greeted the discreet ruling of the Clerk. The difficult point was passed, and the whole subject of the admission of Southern Representatives was handed over intact, to be deliberately considered after the House should be fully organized for business.

Mr. Morrill, in moving to proceed to the election of a Speaker, had forgotten or neglected to demand the previous question, and thus cut off debate. Mr. James Brooks, most plausible in address, and most ready in talk on the side of the minority, saw the point left unguarded by his opponents, and resolved to enter. Born in Maine, now a citizen of New York, and editor of the "Express," Mr. Brooks was in Congress for the fourth time a champion of what he deemed the rights of the South, and not in accordance with the prevailing sentiments in his native and adopted States.

Mr. Brooks obtained the floor, and desired to amend the motion. He thought the roll should be completed before proceeding to the election of Speaker. "I trust," said he, "that we shall not proceed to any revolutionary, any step like that, without at least hearing from the honorable gentleman from Tennessee. If Tennessee is not in the Union, by what right does the President of the United States usurp his place in the White House when an alien and a foreigner, and not from a State in the Union?"

At this stage, a man of mark—five times a Representative in Congress, but now twelve years away from the capital and a new member—John Wentworth, of Chicago—elevated his tall and massive form, and with a stentorian voice called Mr. Brooks to order. The Clerk having fairly decided that gentleman entitled to the floor on the question of proceeding to the election of a Speaker, Mr. Wentworth sat down, and Mr. Brooks in resuming his remarks improved his chance to administer rebuke in a manner which provoked some mirth. "When the honorable gentleman from Illinois is better acquainted with me in this House," said Mr. Brooks, "he will learn that I always proceed in order, and never deviate from the rules." Mr. Brooks then returned to his championship of Mr. Maynard: "If he is not a loyal man, and is not from a State in this Union, what man, then, is loyal? In the darkest and most doubtful period of the war, when an exile from his own State, I heard his eloquent voice on the banks of the St. Lawrence arousing the people of my own State to discharge their duties to the country."

Mr. Brooks joined Virginia with Tennessee, and asked the Clerk to give his reasons for excluding the names of Representatives from these States from the roll. The Clerk replied that he had acted in accordance with his views of duty, and was willing to let the record stand; if it was the desire of the House to have his reasons, he would give them.