Sunday Dispatch

[Written for the Sunday Dispatch.]

Sketches

OF EMINENT CONGRESSMEN.

BY MACKS.

No. 2.

JOSHUA R. GIDDINGS.

I do not recollect at what exact period Mr.

Giddings made his debut in Congress. He was

elected from the “Ashtabula District,” as the

successor of Mr. Elisha Whittlesey, a gentleman

who was too pure for a partizan, and too inde-

pendent to be the tool of Captain Tyler,* un-

der whose administration he for a few months

accidentally held office. And yet Mr. Whittlesey

was enough of a Whig to eat if necessary a

brace of barbecued Democrats at a single setting.

Mr. Whittlesey, I think, declined being a candi-

date for Congress in 1839, and Mr. Giddings was

elected as his successor. He came to Congress

determined to remain there if possible, his life-

time, inasmuch as the “profession” pleased him,

and put into his pocket each day eight round and

hard dollars! Dollars, too, that shine in the sun

and jingle most musically in the pocket. The

dollar, the almighty dollar, is the thing that at-

tracts men to Congress, and gives to patriotism,

what Felix McConnell calls “a h—ll of an impe-

tus.”

Mr. Giddings went into Congress to represent

his constituents, residing in the counties of Ash-

tabula and Jefferson, in the Western Reserve of

Ohio, no matter whether they were right or

wrong—no matter whether they were Whigs or

Democrats. He knew they were to a man, to a

woman, and to a child Abolitionists, and had an

especial regard for the liberty of “our degraded

and oppressed colored brethren and sisters;” and

hence he was sure that he could not miss his

mark, or the wishes of the free electors of his

district, if he on all occasions advocated the

emancipation of the African race, and sighed,

and lamented, and wept over the sufferings of the

“niggers.” He was right. He correctly appre-

ciated the wishes of “those who made him what

he was;” and the first word he uttered after be-

ing admitted to a seat in the House of Represen-

tatives was “nigger.”

“Mr. Speaker,” said he, on rising to make his

maiden speech, “I appear here to advocate the rights of

bondmen; I present myself as the suppliant of the

slave.”

From that day to this Mr. Giddings has not

in any one instance risen in the Hall of the Con-

gress House, without advocating in some shape

the cause of the slave, and the blessings of free-

dom. As a speaker, he is dull, tedious and me-

notonous. Eloquent he never was, and never

can be, for Almighty God, did not endow him

with any such attribute; profound he is not:

ability does not belong to him; and yet he has

acquired a kind of eminence—that kind of emi-

nence which a dog obtains by running through

the street with a bladder of pebbles tied to his

tail; and in the great National Menagerie of

Wild Beasts at Washington, is absolutely a lion.

If I believed, or if I had any reason to believe,

that Mr. Giddings was actuated in his ultra-abo-

lition sea-saw drag-and-dangle-play, by a sincere

devotion to the cause of human emancipation—

by a high and holy sympathy, chastened by reli-

gion, for the slave—I would and should honor the

man, and cry God speed him well! But I believe

nothing of the kind. I regard him as a well

schooled, well practised demagogue; a man who

makes a trade of religion, and retails philanthro-

py at the hustings to catch votes, and in the con-

venticle and the tabernacle, to win the sweet

voices and influences of superannuated spinsters,

and fanatical, pur-blind, bigoted, phthisicy, tooth-

less, priest ridden matrons.

He will, it is true, talk much about the enormi-

ty of slavery; but was he ever known to do any-

thing to aid its abrogation? No; not he. Cas-

sius M. Clay has proved himself sincere as an

abolitionist; he has made sacrifices that no other

man has made, to promote the cause he has

espoused: but Joshua R. Giddings has risked


othing, done nothing, save prate about it, under

the protection of the parliamentary privilege and

made use of professions to catch the suffrages of

flats and gudgeons. He has in fact done nothing

but a bad imitation, of that prince of Aboli-

tion demagogues, Mr. Governor William Slade,

of Vermont.

Joshua R. Giddings is about fifty years of age,

of large stature; and evidently passed the better

portion of his days in humble and vulgar life.

There is nothing in his countenance that is either

winning, imposing or inviting. One of his cheeks

is disfigured by a large crimson mark which he

brought into the world with him. He is offensive

to most of the members from the slave States,

and often receives strong evidence of contempt at

their hands. Two or three years ago they at-

tempted to expel him from the House, for propo-

gating incendiary doctrines and sending inflam-

matory and insurrectionary speeches among their

slaves. They were unsuccessful; but succeeded

in causing him to be censured at the bar of the

House by the Speaker. As soon as the deed was

done, he resigned his seat, went back to his con-

stituents, and was re-elected by a large majority.

This vote of censure was regarded by him as a

god-send, as it had the effect to strengthen him

in his district. He returned to Washington dou-

bly armed, and was thenceforth thrice impudent

and offensive.

Mr. Giddings has an undoubted right to his

opinions; and should express them boldly and

freely on the floor of Congress. If they were hon-

est, and in the indulgence of them, he did not pal-

pably display all the bad qualities of the mere de-

magogue, and none of the attributes of the high-

minded statesman, I would, I repeat, honor him;

for I believe, with the eminent and unfortunate

Orator of Ashland, that “liberty is the birthright

of every man, no matter what may be his caste,

his color, or condition.”

*Mr. Whittlesey was Auditor of the General

Post Office a few months after Mr. Tyler assumed

the Presidential office. He was a good and faith-

ful officer, and a most obstinate man. He was

not to be used as a tool. About four or five

months after Mr. Tyler “ascended the throne,”

he sent to Mr. Whittlesey and requested an au-

dience. The Auditor of the General Post Office

immediately repaired to the Executive Mansion,

and made his obeisance to the President.

“Sir,” said Mr. Tyler, “I wish you to dis-

charge from your office, the individuals whose

name I hand you, and appoint others to their

places. Will you comply with my wishes?”

“Sir,” returned Mr. Whittlesey. “I'll tell you

a story. An Irishman landed in New York, in

the midst of fly time, and being informed that it

was customary for new comers to ride on horse-

back in that city, hired a steed, and leading him

from the stable, undertook to mount him. In

consequence of the flies the animal kept up a se-

ries of kicking, and at last caught his hoof in the

stirrup! Pat was utterly amazed! He surveyed

the horse with amazement for a moment, and

thus addressed him: And ye are after mounting

yerself, darling, are ye? An' this is the way ye

do it in the new country! 'Tis not so in ould

Ireland. Be jasus, master horse, I'll just tell ye

what it is—we can't both ride, bad luck to ye;

and so I'll just give ye yer own stirrup, an' away

ye may go, by St. Patrick.'"

“Sir, do you understand me? Do you appre-

ciate the allegory? You and I cannot both rule

in my office; and so, sir, I return you my com-

mission.”

From that day Mr. Whittlesey ceased to be

an Auditor in the General Post Office.