Friday, May 8, 2009

"Not Yours to Give"

Not Yours To Give

Davy Crockett on The Role Of Government
from: The Life of Colonel David Crockett
compiled by: Edward S. Elis (1884)

“Money with [Congressmen] is nothing but trash when it is
to come out of the people. But it is the one great thing for
which most of them are striving, and many of them sacrifice
honor, integrity, and justice to obtain it.”

Introductory note by Peter Kershaw:

Davy Crockett served four terms in the U.S. Congress from 1827-1835. In 1835 he
joined the Whig Party and ran a failed attempt for the Presidency. Immediately
thereafter he departed his native Tennessee for Texas to secure the independence of
the "Texicans." He lost his life at the battle of the Alamo and forever secured his
legendary status in history as "king of the wild frontier." The following story was
recounted to Edward Elis by an unnamed Congressman who had served with Colonel
Crockett in the U.S. House of Representatives.
...Crockett was then the lion of Washington. I was a great admirer of his character, and,
having several friends who were intimate with him, I found no difficulty in making his
acquaintance. I was fascinated with him, and he seemed to take a fancy to me. I was one day
in the lobby of the House of Representatives when a bill was taken up appropriating money
for the benefit of a widow of a distinguished naval officer. It seemed to be that everybody
favored it. The Speaker was just about to put the question when Crockett arose. Everybody
expected, of course, that he was going to make a speech in support of the bill. He
commenced:
"Mr. Speaker -- I have as much respect for the memory of the deceased, and as much
sympathy for the sufferings of the living, if suffering there be, as any man in this House; but
we must not permit our respect for the dead or our sympathy for a part of the living to lead us
into an act of injustice to the balance of the living. I will not go into argument to prove that
Congress has no power under the Constitution to appropriate this money as an act of charity.
Every member upon this floor knows it. We have the right, as individuals, to give away as
much of our own money as we please in charity; but as members of Congress we have no
right so to appropriate a dollar of the public money. "Mr. Speaker, I am the poorest man on
this floor. I cannot vote for this bill, but I will give one week's pay to the object, and if every
member of Congress will do the same, it will amount to more than the bill asks." He took his
seat. Nobody replied. The bill was put upon its passage, and instead of passing unanimously,
as was generally supposed, and as no doubt it would, but for that speech, it received but a
few votes and was lost. Like many others, I desired the passage of the bill, and felt outraged
at its defeat. I determined that I would persuade my friend Crockett to move for a
reconsideration the next day.
Previous engagements preventing me from seeing Crockett that night, I went early to his
room the next morning and found him franking letters, a large pile of which lay upon his table.
I broke in upon him rather abruptly, by asking him what the devil had possessed him to make
that speech and defeat that bill yesterday. Without turning his head or looking up from his
work, he replied: "I will answer your question. But thereby hangs a tale, and one of
considerable length, to which you will have to listen."
I listened, and this is the tale which I heard:
"Several years ago I was one evening standing on the steps of the Capitol with some other
members of Congress, when our attention was attracted by a great light over in Georgetown.
It was evidently a large fire. We jumped into the hack and drove over as fast as we could.
When we got there, I went to work, and I never worked as hard in my life as I did there for
several hours. But, in spite of all that could be done, many houses were burned and many
families made houseless, and, besides, some of them had lost all but the clothes they had
on. The weather was very cold, and when I saw so many women and children suffering, I felt
that something ought to be done for them, and everybody else seemed to feel the same way.
"The next morning a bill was introduced appropriating $20,000 for their relief. We put aside
all other business and rushed it through as soon as it could be done. I said everybody felt as
I did. That was not quite so; for, though they perhaps sympathized as deeply with the
sufferers as I did, there were a few of the members who did not think we had the right to
indulge our sympathy or excite our charity at the expense of anybody but ourselves. They
opposed the bill, and upon its passage demanded the yeas and nays. The yeas and nays
were recorded, and my name appeared on the journals in favor of the bill.
"The next summer, when it began to be time to think about election, I concluded I would take
a scout around among the boys of my district. I had no opposition there, but, as the election
was some time off, I did not know what might turn up, and I thought it was best to let the boys
know that I had not forgot them, and that going to Congress had not made me too proud to
go to see them. "So I put a couple of shirts and a few twists of tobacco into my saddlebags,
and put out. I had been out about a week and had found things going very smoothly, when,
riding one day in a part of my district in which I was more of a stranger than any other, I saw
a man in a field plowing and coming toward the road. I gauged my gait so that we should
meet as he came to the fence. As he came up I spoke to the man. He replied politely, but, as
I thought, rather coldly, and was about turning his horse for another furrow when I said to
him: 'Don't be in such a hurry my friend; I want to have a little talk with you, and get better
acquainted.' He replied: "'I am very busy, and have but little time to talk, but if it does not take
too long, I will listen to what you have to say.' "I began: 'Well, friend, I am one of those
fortunate beings called candidates, and . . . .' "' Yes, I know you; you are Colonel Crockett. I
have seen you once before, and voted for you the last time you were elected. I suppose you
are out electioneering now, but you had better not waste your time or mine. I shall not vote
for you again.' "This was a sockdolager .... I begged him to tell me what was the matter.
"'Well, Colonel, it is hardly worthwhile to waste time or words upon it. I do not see how it can
be mended, but you gave a vote last winter which shows that either you have not capacity to
understand the Constitution, or that you are wanting the honesty and firmness to be guided
by it. In either case you are not the man to represent me. But I beg your pardon for
expressing it that way. I did not intend to avail myself of the privilege of the constituent to
speak plainly to a candidate for the purpose of insulting or wounding you. I intend by it only
to say that your understanding of the Constitution is very different from mine; and I will say to
you what, but for my rudeness, I should not have said, that I believe you to be honest. ... But
an understanding of the Constitution different from mine I cannot overlook, because the
Constitution, to be worth anything, must be held sacred, and rigidly observed in all its
provisions. The man who wields power and misinterprets it is the more dangerous the more
honest he is.' "'I admit the truth of all you say, but there must be some mistake about it, for I
do not remember that I gave any vote last winter upon any constitutional question.' "'No,
Colonel, there's no mistake. Though I live here in the backwoods and seldom go from home, I
take the papers from Washington and read very carefully all the proceedings of Congress.
My papers say that last winter you voted for a bill to appropriate $20,000 to some sufferers
by a fire in Georgetown. Is that true?' "'Certainly it is, and I thought that was the last vote
which anybody in the world would have found fault with.' "'Well, Colonel, where do you find in
the Constitution any authority to give away the public money in charity?'
"Here was another sockdolager; for, when I began to think about it, I could not remember a
thing in the Constitution that authorized it. I found I must take another tack, so I said: "'Well,
my friend; I may as well own up. You have got me there. But certainly nobody will complain
that a great and rich country like ours should give the insignificant sum of $20,000 to relieve
women and children, particularly with a full and overflowing Treasury; and, I am sure, if you
had been there, you would have done just as I did.' "'It is not the amount, Colonel, that I
complain of; it is the principle. In the first place, the government ought to have in the
Treasury no more than enough for its legitimate purposes. But that has nothing to do with the
question. The power of collecting and disbursing money at pleasure is the most dangerous
power that can be intrusted to man, particularly under our system of collecting revenue by a
tariff, which reaches every man in the country, no matter how poor he may be, and the poorer
he is the more he pays in proportion to his means. What is worse, it presses upon him
without his knowledge where the weight centers, for there is not a man in the United States
who can ever guess how much he pays to the government. So you see, that while you are
contributing to relieve one, you are drawing it from thousands who are even worse off than
he. "'If you had the right to give anything, the amount was simply a matter of discretion with
you, and you had as much right to give $20,000,000 as $20,000. If you have the right to give
to one, you have the right to give to all; and as the Constitution neither defines charity nor
stipulates the amount, you are at liberty to give to any and everything which you believe, or
profess to believe, is a charity, and to any amount you may think proper. You will very easily
perceive what a wide door this would open for fraud and corruption and favoritism, on the
one hand, and for robbing the people on the other. "'No, Colonel, Congress has no right to
give charity. Individual members may give as much of their own money as they please, but
they have no right to touch a dollar of the public money for that purpose. There are about two
hundred and forty members of Congress. If they had shown their sympathy for the sufferers
by contributing each one week's pay, it would have made over $13,000. There are plenty of
wealthy men in Washington, who could have given $20,000 without depriving themselves of
even a luxury of life. The congressmen chose to keep their own money, which, if reports be
true, some of them spend not very creditably; and the people about Washington, no doubt,
applauded you for relieving them from the necessity of giving what was not yours to give. The
people have delegated to Congress, by the Constitution, the power to do certain things. To
do these, it is authorized to collect and pay moneys, and for nothing else. Everything beyond
this is usurpation, and a violation of the Constitution.'
"I have given you," continued Crockett, "an imperfect account of what he said. Long before
he was through, I was convinced that I had done wrong. He wound up by saying: "'So you
see, Colonel, you have violated the Constitution in what I consider a vital point. It is
precedent fraught with danger to the country, for when Congress once begins to stretch its
power beyond the limits of the Constitution, there is no limit to it, and no security for the
people. I have no doubt you acted honestly, but that does not make it any better, except as
far as you are personally concerned, and you see that I cannot vote for you.' "I tell you I felt
streaked. I saw if I should have opposition, and this man should go to talking, he would set
others to talking, and in this district I was a gone fawn-skin. I could not answer him, and the
fact is, I was so fully convinced that he was right, I did not want to. But I must satisfy him, and
I said to him: "'Well, my friend, you hit the nail upon the head when you said I had not sense
enough to understand the Constitution. I intended to be guided by it, and thought I had
studied it fully. I have heard many speeches in Congress, but what you have said here at
your plow has got more hard, sound sense in it than all the fine speeches I have ever heard.
If I had ever taken the view of it that you have, I would have put my head into the fire before I
would have given that vote; and if you will forgive me and vote for me again, if I ever vote for
another unconstitutional law I wish I may be shot.'
"The farmer laughingly replied: 'Yes, Colonel, you have sworn to that once before, but I will
trust you again upon one condition. You say that you are convinced that your vote was
wrong. Your acknowledgment of it will do more good than defeating you for it. If, as you go
around the district, you will tell people about this vote, and that you are satisfied it was
wrong, I will not only vote for you, but will do what I can to keep down opposition, and,
perhaps, I may exert some little influence in that way.' "'If I don't,' said I, 'I wish I may be shot;
and to convince you that I am in earnest in what I say I will come back this way in a week or
ten days, and if you will get a gathering of the people, I will make a speech to them. Get up a
barbecue, and I will pay for it.' "'No, Colonel, we are not rich people in this section, but we
have plenty of provisions to contribute for a barbecue, and some to spare for those who have
none. The push of crops will be over in a few days, and we can then afford a day for a
barbecue. This is Thursday; I will see to getting it up on Saturday seek. Come to my house
on Friday, and we will go together, and I promise you a very respectable crowd to see and
hear you.' "'Well, I will be here. But one thing more before I say good-bye. I must know your
name.' "'My name is Bunce.' "'Not Horatio Bunce?' "'Yes.' "'Well, Mr. Bunce, I never saw you
before, though you say you have seen me, but I know you very well. I am glad I have met
you, and very proud that I may hope to have you for my friend. You must let me shake your
hand before I go.' "We shook hands and parted that day in gentlemanly friendship and amity.
"It was one of the luckiest hits of my life that I met that man. He mingled but little with the
public, but was widely known for his remarkable intelligence, incorruptible integrity, and, for a
heart brimful and running over with kindness and benevolence, which showed themselves
not only in words but in acts. He was the oracle of the whole country around him, and his
fame extended far beyond the circle of his immediate acquaintance. Though I had never met
him before, I had heard much of him, and but for this meeting it is very likely I should have
had opposition, and had been beaten. One thing is very certain, no man could now stand up
in that district under such a vote. "At the appointed time I was at his house, having told our
conversation to every crowd I had met, and to every man I stayed all night with. In fact I
found that it gave the people an interest and a confidence in me stronger than I had ever
seen manifest before. "Though I was considerably fatigued when I reached the home of Mr.
Bunce, and under ordinary circumstances should have gone early to bed, I kept him up until
midnight, talking about the principles and affairs of government, and got more real, true
knowledge of them than I had got all my life before. "I have told you Mr. Bunce converted me
politically. He came nearer converting me religiously than I had ever been before. He did not
make a very good Christian of me, as you know; but he has wrought upon my feelings a
reverence for its purifying and elevating power such as I had never felt before. "I have known
and seen much of him since, for I respect him -- no, that is not the word -- I reverence and
love him more than any living man, and I go to see him two or three times every year; and I
will you sir, if every one who professes to be a Christian lived and acted and enjoyed it as he
does, the religion of Christ would take the world by storm.
"But to return to my story. The next morning we went to the barbecue, and, to my surprise,
found about a thousand me there. I met a good many whom I had not known before, and they
and my friend introduced me around until I had got pretty well acquainted -- at least, they all
knew me. "In due time notice was given that I would speak to them. They gathered up around
a stand that had been erected. I opened my speech by saying: "'Fellow-citizens -- I present
myself before you today feeling like a new man. My eyes have lately been opened to truths
which ignorance or prejudice, or both, had heretofore hidden from my view. I feel that I can
today offer you the ability to render you more valuable service than I have ever been able to
render before. I am here today more for the purpose of acknowledging my error than to seek
your votes. That I should make this acknowledgment is due to myself as well as to you.
Whether you will vote for me is a matter for your consideration only.' "I went on to tell them
about the fire and my vote for the appropriation as I have told it to you, and then told them
why I was satisfied it was wrong. I closed by saying: "'And now, fellow-citizens, it remains
only for me to tell you that most of the speech you have listened to with so much interest was
simply a repetition of the arguments by which your neighbor, Mr. Bunce, convinced me of my
error. "'It is the best speech I ever made in my life, but my friend Horatio Bunce is entitled to
the credit of it. And now I hope he is satisfied with his convert and that he will get up here and
tell you so.' "He came upon the stand and said: "'Fellow-citizens -- It affords me great
pleasure to comply with the request of Colonel Crockett. I have always considered him a
thoroughly honest man, and I am satisfied that he will faithfully perform all that he has
promised you today.' "He went down, and there went up from the crowd such a shout for
Davy Crockett as his name never called forth before. "I am not much given to tears, but I was
taken with a choking then and felt some big drops rolling down my cheeks. And I tell you now
that the remembrance of those few words spoken by such a man, and the honest, hearty
shout they produced, is worth more to me than all the honors I have received and all the
reputation I have ever made, or ever shall make, as a member of Congress.
"Now, sir,' concluded Crockett, "you know why I made that speech yesterday. I have had
several thousand copies of it printed, and was directing them to my constituents when you
came in. "There is one thing now to which I will call your attention. You remember that I
proposed to give a weeks pay. There are in that House many very wealthy men -- men who
think nothing of spending a week's pay, or a dozen of them, for a dinner or a wine party when
they have something to accomplish by it. Some of those same men made beautiful speeches
upon the debt of gratitude which the country owed the deceased -- a debt which could not be
paid by money -- and the insignificance and worthlessness of money, particularly so
insignificant a sum as $10,000, when weighed against the honor of the nation. "Yet not one of
those Congressmen responded to my proposition. Money with them is nothing but trash when
it is to come out of the people. But it is the one great thing for which most of them are
striving, and many of them sacrifice honor, integrity, and justice to obtain it."
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