SOME BEHAVIORS OF CONGRESS HAVE CHANGED

          When the honeymoon is over, I wonder if President Bush will have a harmonious Congress with which to work.  That would seem too much to hope for, even for a Texas Republican. Already his appointee Ashcroft has met with some vociferous disagreement, but not as much discord as the early days, before everyone could witness the behavior of those sent to represent them.

          The English author Charles Dickens visited the U. S. Congress in 1842. He observed, “despicable trickery at elections, underhanded tamperings with public officers, cowardly attacks upon opponents,’ not to mention “aidings and abettings of every bad inclination in the popular mind.” He wrote of the Members of the House sitting with feet propped up on desks, lavishly spitting tobacco juice on the handsome carpets.

          Dickens wasn’t just being an English snob when he made those observations. In 1837, a newspaper reporter wrote,”you could easly slip on the disgusting compound of tobacco juice, wafers and sand that coated the floor.” Truly, in the good old days, the House found itself having to fine members for physical offense when fists flew.

          Conditions of the new capital city were partly to blame. Weeds choked vacant lots, mud made traveling virtually impossible part of the time. Street lamps were not supplied with oil, hogs ran loose in the street. In 1828 police issued a warning that any porker found running loose would be arrested and promptly sold.

          Lifestyles were totally different from counterparts of today. Members   of Congress could not go home for weekends, or tour the states they represented. Until the completion of the Erie Canal in 1825 and the arrival of rail connections in the mid-1830s members rarely got to go home at all during the sessions which lasted from four to six months. The journey from Boston to Washington took 11 days by coach in 1807, and sometimes coaches could not get through at all. Most of the members did not take their families, nor staff members  to Washington.

          Today, staff for 535 Senators and Representative runs to about 18,000 people, with an annual payroll of more than $1 billion. But in the early days, they had no one to help write legislation and answer mail. They did receive petitions from their people. Delegate John Scott from the Territory of Missouri received more than 1,000 petitions in 1817, ranging from widows’ woes to patent applications, to damage claims for property destroyed by Indians. That was about one letter for every 6 people.

          Housing was a real problem. Boarding houses sprang up in areas near the capitol, but often the men had to share a room, even when they were on opposites of the political fences. One Representative complained that he had trouble keeping his papers private, and about the noise in the house, but the price was right. For $8 a week—a full day’s pay for a House member—he got a room and meals, fuel for his fireplace and two candles to read by. The menu was generous for Fairfield boarders who commonly sat down for a breakfast of coffee, beefsteak, mutton, sausage, hominy and buckwheat cakes, corncakes or biscuits.

Davy Crockett, who served as Representative from Tennessee, stayed only three terms. He was described as “fresh from the backwoods, half-horse, half-alligator,” and made quite an impression, though he did not get the bill he really wanted passed. It was a bill that would open government land in Tennessee to poor settlers. After loosing his seat in 1835 Crockett told voters they could go to hell. He was going to Texas.

          Duels were not infrequent among government representatives. John Randolph of Virginia, took full advantage of his right to freedom of speech—though people didn’t listen to him—nor to many others. He rode into House carrying a riding crop and with one or two hunting dogs at heel. Only one man in Congress seemed able to control Randolph. That was Henry Clay. He seemed have the ability to squelch Randolph who wanted to vote again on the War of 1812, and other issues a second time. 

          Clay challenged Randolph to a duel and was accepted. The two exchanged shots. Clay’s shot tore through Randolph’s flowing white coat. He told Clay, “You owe me a coat, Mr. Clay.” Clay replied, “I’m glad that’s all I owe you.” They then shook hands.

          The early Congress, in spite of all the controversy and uproar did manage to cover much legislation ranging from what paintings should be hung in the Rotunda to a tariff on imported pasta to construction of a national road to settlement of international boundary disputes with Spain and Britian. Things got more complicated in debates over slavery. One Senator said that during the stressful 1850s the only members not carrying a knife and a revolver were those carrying two revolvers.

          Oh, if the constituents back home could have only seen them. Perhaps television in high places does serve a good cause.

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