d all squeeze ourselves
over to one side of the carriage, and those outside use their
whole strength on the opposite door. This was successful.
We escaped from our prison. As Davis marched into the hotel
the hackman exclaimed, as he stared after him: "By God, I
should think you was eight men."
Eli Saulsbury of Delaware was a very worthy Southern gentleman
of the old school, of great courage, ability and readiness
in debate, absolutely devoted to the doctrines of the Democratic
Party, and possessed of a very high opinion of himself. I
knew him very intimately. He was Chairman of the Committee
on Privileges and Elections, and was a member of it when I
was Chairman. We went to New Orleans together to make what
was called the Copiah investigation. We used to be fond of
talking with each other. He always had a fund of pleasant
anecdotes of old times in the South. He liked to set forth
his own virtues and proclaim the lofty morality of his own
principles of conduct, a habit which he may have got from
his eminent colleague, Senator Bayard, who sometimes announced
a familiar moral principle as if it were something the people
who listened to him were hearing for the first time, and of
which he in his youth had been the original discoverer. I
once told Saulsbury, when he was discoursing in that way,
that he must be descended from Adam by some wife he had before
Eve, who had nothing to do with the fall. He was fond of
violently denouncing the wicked Republicans on the floor of
the Senate, and in Committee. But his bark was worse than
his bite.
When the Kellogg case was investigated by the Committee on
Privileges and Elections, when I first entered the Senate,
Mr. Saulsbury rose in the first meeting of the Committee
and proceeded to denounce his Republican associates. He
declared they came there with their minds made up on the
case, a condition of mind which was absolutely unfit for a
grave judicial office, in the discharge of which all party
considerations and preconceived opinions should be banished.
He said we should have open minds to hear the arguments and
the evidence to be introduced, as if it were a solemn trial
in a court of justice. When he was in the midst of a very
eloquent and violent philippic, the Chairman of the Committee,
Bainbridge Wadleigh, said quietly, "Brother Saulsbury, haven't
you made up your mind?" Mr. Saulsbury stopped a moment, said,
"Yes, I have made up my mind," broke into a roa
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