Last week the Mississippi legislature convened for its annual session. My friend — Representative Jeff Smith — was there for the opening gavel. In a Facebook post he asked for our prayers and quoted Mark Twain: “When the legislature is in session, it is like giving a small boy a hammer, you know he is going to do damage, but just how much…” At a time when everyone seems to be offended by the least little thing, it is so refreshing to see someone in politics who still has a sense of humor and in a good natured way will still poke a little fun.
That quote, though, brings to mind a long history of Southern political quotes and storie. The South has always had more than its fair share of interesting public figures. However, one of my favorite political quotes turned out not to be Southern after all. It is a quote that was brought to mind by Jeff’s Facebook post. It was often attributed to a Texas politician and was something to the effect of “when the legislature is in session, no man, woman, child or dog in this State is safe.”
When I researched the quote to find its correct wording, I found that the original quote was from a New York will contest in 1866. In the court’s opinion in the case Gideon John Tucker stated, “No man’s life, liberty or property are safe while the legislature is in session.”
One of the greatest misspeaks by a politician, though, did occur in Texas. In the early 1920s the Texas Legislature was considering a change in capital punishment by abolishing executions by public hangings which were held in each county. The new law was to centralize all executions at the Texas State penitentiary.
A state representative from Dallas took exception to the removal of what he considered should be a local event and attraction. His closing remark was priceless: “Mr. Speaker, I don’t know what you think about it, but as for me, hanging was good enough for my fathers and it’s good enough for me.”
No column on Southern politics would be complete without a little wisdom shared by David Crockett. Crockett was a past master of the stump speech. In most small rural communities there was no suitable place where political speeches could be delivered. It became a practice to cut down a large tree within the community and there by provide a stump that would become the politician’s stage. Thus, a stump speech.
David Crockett had been elected as a congressman from Tennessee and was up for reelection in 1835. He was defeated and left for Texas. The May 10, 1836, Arkansas Gazette told the following story of Crockett on his journey to Texas and into legend:
Crockett had stopped in Nacogdoches, Louisiana, where a dinner was given in his honor and he was asked to tell what brought him west. He responded, “I was for some time a member of congress. In my last canvass, I told the people of my district that if they saw fit to re-elect me, I would serve them as faithfully as I had done, but if not, they might go to hell, and I would go to Texas. I was beaten, gentlemen, and here I am.”
Mississippi has also had its share of interesting figures. There was Congressman S.S. Prentiss who was reportedly referred to by Daniel Webster as one of America’s best orators. Prentiss was said to have given his greatest and most powerful speech at the trial of a bedbug in the 1830s. Prentiss and another lawyer, Samuel Gholson, were sharing a room in an inn when in the middle of the night they discovered bedbugs.
They reacted by pulling pistols and firing them into the bed where the bugs were. When the irate innkeeper ran into the room the lawyers captured one of the bugs and told the innkeeper the bug must be tried. They added that since the bugs were living in the inn the innkeeper’s sons must serve as a jury of the bug’s peers. The unhappy innkeeper was compelled to comply and the trial began.
Gholson opened with a two hour spirited prosecution and Prentiss as defense attorney closed with an impassioned four hour plea for mercy which was said to have been the greatest and most moving speech he ever made. Prentiss’ plea was in vain as the bedbug had been pinned to the wall during the trial as it could not sit in a chair.
Another Mississippi political legend was “Private” John Allen. The most common version of the story goes that in 1884 Tupelo District Attorney John Allen was running for congress against popular former Confederate General W.S. Tucker. Tucker at an early rally spoke of his service as a general in the Civil War. Allen followed and first told of what a good general Tucker had been but then added he had been one of the privates that stood guard for Tucker. Allen called for all the former generals to vote for Tucker and all the former privates to vote for “Private John Allen.” Allen was elected.
The real story is somewhat convoluted and even more interesting. There was no Mississippi Confederate General by the name of W.S. Tucker, but there was Gen. W.F. Tucker of Okolona. Tucker was murdered in 1881 but had been a candidate with Allen in the Congressional race of 1880, in which neither was successful. In the campaign of 1880 the Tupelo Journal was supporting Allen and the Chickasaw Messenger was supporting Tucker. At the Democratic congressional district convention Capt. J.H. Miller of the Journal and Frank Burkitt of the Messenger “met in the street and went together” and Burkitt “succeeded” in thrashing Miller with his cane. By 1884 Mississippi newspapers were referring to Allen as “Private John Allen” and the name went with him when he was first elected to Congress in 1885.
If we sometimes think that today’s politics could not get any dirtier we only need to look at some of the past masters. The 1915 Mississippi gubernatorial race was a bitter one between John Armstrong and Theodore G. Bilbo. In one speech Bilbo bitterly attacked Armstrong saying, “John Armstrong is a vicious, malicious, deliberate, cowardly, pusillanimous, cold blooded, lop-eared, blue nosed premeditated, and self-made liar.” Kind of makes today’s insults look tame.
Rufus Ward is a local historian. Email your questions about local history to him at [email protected].
Rufus Ward is a Columbus native a local historian. E-mail your questions about local history to Rufus at [email protected].
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