History of the Thirty-Ninth Congress of the United States

by William Horatio Barnes

There are in the Senate-chamber seventy seats, in three tiers of semi-circular arrangement. If all the old Southern States were represented by Senators on the floor, the seats would be more than full. As it was in the Thirty-ninth Congress, there were a number of vacant desks, all of them situated to the right and left of the presiding officer.

In a division of political parties nearly equal, the main aisle from the southern entrance would be the separating line. As it was, the Republican Senators occupied not only the eastern half of the chamber, but many of them were seated on the other side, the comparatively few Democratic Senators sitting still further to the west.

Seated in the gallery, the spectator has a favorable position to survey the grand historic scene which passes below. His eye is naturally first attracted to the chair which is constitutionally the seat of the second dignitary in the land—the Vice-President of the United States. That office, however, has no incumbent, since he who took oath a few months before to perform its duties was called to occupy a higher place, made vacant by a most atrocious crime. The event, however, cost the Senate little loss of dignity, since the chair is filled by a President pro tempore of great ability and excellence—Lafayette S. Foster, Senator from Connecticut.

The eye of the spectator naturally seeks out Charles Sumner, who sits away on the outer tier of seats, toward the south-east corner of the chamber; and near him, on the left, are seen the late Governors, now Senators, Morgan and Yates, of New York and Illinois. Immediately in front of them, on the middle tier of seats, is an assemblage of old and distinguished Senators—Trumbull, Wilson, Wade, and Fessenden. To the right of the Vice-President's chair, and in the row of seats neares this desk, sits the venerable and learned lawyer, Reverdy Johnson, of Maryland. Just in his rear sits the youthful Sprague, of Rhode Island, to whose right is seen Sherman, of Ohio. To the rear of these Senators, in the outer segment of seats, sits, or perhaps stands, Garrett Davis, of Kentucky, the most garrulous of old men, continually out of temper with the majority, yet all the time marked by what he calls his "usual courtesy." To the left of Davis, beyond Nesmith, of Oregon, and the other and more silent Senator from Kentucky, sits Saulsbury, of Delaware, unless he should be traversing the carpeted space in the rear of his seat, like a sentinel of the Senate.

Far different is the sight presented to the spectator who looks down from the galleries of the House of Representatives. The immense area below is supplied with two hundred and fifty-three seats, with desks arranged in semi-circular rows, having a point in front of the Speaker's desk as a focus. On the right of the spectator, as he looks from the gallery in front of the Speaker, is the Republican side of the House. But this prosperous organization has grown so rapidly since its birth, ten years ago, that it has overstepped all old and traditional party limitations. One-half of the House is not sufficient to afford its representatives adequate accommodations. Republican members have passed over the main aisle, and occupy half of the Democratic side, having pressed the thin ranks of their opponents to the extreme left.

As the spectator scans the House, his eye will rest on Thaddeus Stevens, whose brown wig and Roman cast of countenance mark the veteran of the House. He sits in the right place for a leader of the Republicans, about half-way back from the Speaker's desk, on the diagonal line which divides the western side of the House, where he can readily catch the Speaker's eye, and be easily heard by all his friends. Immediately in his rear is his successor in the chairmanship of the Committee of Ways and Means—Mr. Morrill, of Vermont. To the right, across the aisle, is Elihu B. Washburn, of Illinois, the oldest member in continuous service in the House; and to his rear is Henry J. Raymond, of the Times. To the right, and partly in the rear of Mr. Stevens, are a number of noteworthy men: among them are General Schenck, General Garfield, and "Long John" Wentworth, of Chicago. Far around to the right, and much nearer, the Speaker's desk, is seen a man distinguished in civil and military history, who once occupied the Speaker's chair—General Banks, of Massachusetts. In physical contrast with him, sits—in the adjoining desk, a tall, dark, bearded Californian—General John Bidwell, a new member of the House. On the opposite side of the House, among the Democrats, is the seat of John A. Bingham, who now returns to Congress after an absence of one term, whom his friends describe as the "best-natured and crossest-looking man in the House." James Brooks, most plausible and best-natured of Democrats, notwithstanding the inroads of the Republicans, sturdily keeps his seat near the main aisle. His seat, however, he is destined to lose before many months in favor of a contestant, who will occupy the other side of the chamber.

In looking down upon so large an assemblage, a large part of which is so distant, the eye of the spectator will weary in the attempt to discover and recognize individuals, however familiar, amidst the busy throng.

In preparing for the work of legislation, a matter of more importance than the arrangement of the seats is the cast of the committees. Most of the labor of legislative bodies is done by committees. As it is impossible for any one Congressman to give that minute and particular attention to all the numerous interests demanding legislation, essential to a wise determination as to what bills should be presented, and how they should be drawn in every case, the various subjects are parceled out among those whose opportunities, interests, or inclinations have led them to give particular attention to the matters committed to their charge. The perfection of legislation on particular subjects depends not more on the wisdom of the entire body of legislators than on the good sense of the committees that deliberate upon them. Much of the efficiency and success of the legislative acts of Congress will depend upon the structure of the committees that do the laborious work of preparing business for the body. Tracing the stream of legislative enactment still nearer to its source, it will be found that the work of a committee takes a decided tinge from the character of its chairman.

It consequently becomes a matter of great interest to the country, at the opening of each Congress, to know who constitute the committees. One of the most arduous and responsible duties of the Speaker of the House of Representatives is the selection of committees and filling their chairmanships. Fitness and special adaptation are supposed to constitute the rule by which choice is made. Many elements, however, enter into the work which are not a part of this philosophy. It is impossible that the presiding officer should know unerringly who is absolutely the fittest man for any position, and if he possessed such superhuman knowledge he would still be trammeled by long-established rules of precedence and promotion. There is often a regular gradation by which men arrive at positions which is not in direct ratio to their fitness for their places.

Notwithstanding all the errors which were unavoidable elements in the work, committees were never better constituted than those of the Thirty-ninth Congress.