James Proctor Knott was born in Kentucky on August 29, 1830.
He went to Missouri in 1850 and there began the practise of
law. In 1858 he was elected to the Missouri Legislature and
subsequently he became attorney-general. He returned to
Kentucky in 1862 and was elected to Congress from that State
in 1866. It was while in Congress that Mr. Knott attained
national fame as a humorist. As a satirist he had no equal
among his fellow members, and he was responsible for several
bills being "laughed out of the House."
Mr. Knott's most famous speech was delivered in the House of
Representatives, January 27, 1871, on the joint resolution
extending the time to construct a railroad from the St.
Croix River to the west end of Lake Superior. At that time
Duluth was a small and almost unknown village. Knott's
grandiloquent forecast of its future, intended as a satire,
has since been in great part verified by the city's
wonderful development. It now has a population of more than
fifty-five thousand persons, and as one of the principal
shipping points of the great Northwestern grain-fields it is
world-famous.
Of this speech, which has long been regarded as a model of
its kind, an abridged version is given below. The complete
text may be found in the third section of the appendix of
the _Congressional Globe_ for 1870-1871, beginning on page
68.
Mr. Speaker: As to those great trunk-lines of railway spanning the
continent from ocean to ocean, I confess my mind has never been fully made
up. But with regard to the transcendent merits of the gigantic enterprise
contemplated in this bill--to construct a railroad from the St. Croix
River, or lake, to the west end of Lake Superior and to Bayfield--I never
entertained a shadow of a doubt.
Now, sir, who that is not as incredulous as St. Thomas himself will doubt
for a moment that the Goshen of America is to be found in the sandy
valleys and upon the pine-clad hills of the St. Croix?
Sir, I have been satisfied for years that if there was any portion of the
inhabited globe absolutely in a suffering condition for a railroad, it was
these teeming pine-barrens of the St. Croix.
At what particular point on that noble stream such a road should be
commenced I knew was immaterial, and so it seems to have been considered
by the draftsman of this bill. It might be up at the spring or down at the
foot-log, or the water-gate, or the fish-dam, or anywhere along the bank,
no matter where. But in what direction should it run, or where should it
terminate, were always to my mind questions of the most painful
perplexity, until I accidentally overheard some gentlemen the other day
mention the name of "Duluth."
Duluth! The word fell on my ear with a peculiar and indescribable charm,
like the gentle murmur of a low fountain stealing forth in the midst of
roses, or the soft, sweet accent of an angel's whisper in the bright,
joyous dream of sleeping innocence.
Duluth! 'Twas the name for which my soul had panted for years, as the hart
panteth for the water-brooks. But where was Duluth?
Never in all my limited reading had my vision been gladdened by seeing the
celestial word in print. And I felt a profound humiliation in my
ignorance that its dulcet syllables had never before ravished my
delighted ear. I was certain the draftsman of this bill had never heard of
it, or it would have been designated as one of the termini of this road.
I asked my friends about it, but they knew nothing of it. I rushed to the
library and examined all the maps I could find. I discovered in one of
them a delicate, hair-like line diverging from the Mississippi near a
place called Prescott, which I supposed was intended to represent the
river St. Croix; but I could nowhere find Duluth.
Nevertheless, I was confident that it existed somewhere, and that its
discovery would constitute the crowning glory of the present century, if
not of all modern times.
Thanks to the beneficence of that band of ministering angels who have
their bright abodes in the far-off capital of Minnesota, just as the agony
of my anxiety was about to culminate in the frenzy of despair, this
blessed map was placed in my hands; and as I unfolded it a resplendent
scene of ineffable glory opened before me, such as I imagine burst upon
the enraptured vision of the wandering peri through the opening gates of
paradise.
There, there for the first time my enchanted eye rested upon the ravishing
word "Duluth."
If gentlemen will examine it, they will find Duluth not only in the center
of this map, but represented in the center of concentric circles one
hundred miles apart, and some of them as much as four thousand miles in
diameter, embracing alike in their tremendous sweep the fragrant savannas
of the sunlit South, and the eternal solitudes of snow that mantle the
ice-bound North.
I find by reference to this map that Duluth is situated somewhere near the
western end of Lake Superior; but as there is no dot or other mark
indicating its exact location, I am unable to say whether it is actually
confined to any particular spot, or whether "it is just lying around there
loose."
But, however that may be, I am satisfied that Duluth is there or
thereabout, for I see it stated here on this map that it is exactly
thirty-nine hundred and ninety miles from Liverpool, though I have no
doubt, for the sake of convenience, it will be moved back ten miles so as
to make the distance an even four thousand.
Then, sir, there is the climate of Duluth, unquestionably the most
salubrious and delightful to be found anywhere on the Lord's earth. Now, I
have always been under the impression, as I presume other gentlemen have,
that in the regions around Lake Superior it was cold enough, for at least
nine months in the year, to freeze the smoke-stack off a locomotive.
But I see it represented on this map that Duluth is situated exactly
half-way between the latitudes of Paris and Venice; so that gentlemen who
have inhaled the exhilarating airs of the one or basked in the golden
sunlight of the other may see at a glance that Duluth must be a place of
untold delights, a terrestrial paradise, fanned by the balmy zephyrs of an
eternal spring, clothed in the gorgeous sheen of ever-blooming flowers,
and vocal with the silvery melody of Nature's choicest songsters.
As to the commercial resources of Duluth, sir, they are simply illimitable
and inexhaustible, as shown by this map. I see it stated here that there
is a vast scope of territory, embracing an area of over two million square
miles, rich in every element of material wealth and commercial prosperity,
all tributary to Duluth.
Look at this map; do not you see from the broad brown lines drawn around
this immense territory, that the enterprising inhabitants of Duluth intend
some day to enclose it all in one vast corral, so that its commerce would
be bound to go there whether it would or not? And on this map, sir, I find
within a convenient distance the Piegan Indians, which of all the many
accessories to the glory of Duluth I consider the most inestimable.
For, sir, I see vast "wheat-fields" represented on this map in the
immediate neighborhood of the buffaloes and the Piegans; and though the
idea of there being these immense wheat-fields in the very heart of a
wilderness, hundreds and hundreds of miles beyond the utmost verge of
civilization, may appear to some gentlemen as rather incongruous, as
rather too great a strain on the "blankets" of veracity, to my mind there
is no difficulty in the matter whatever.
Here, you will observe, are the buffaloes, directly between the Piegans
and Duluth, and here, on the right of Duluth, are the Creeks. Now, sir,
when the buffaloes are sufficiently fat from grazing on these immense
wheat-fields, you see it will be the easiest thing in the world for the
Piegans to drive them on down, stay all night with their friends, the
Creeks, and go into Duluth in the morning.
Sir, I might stand here for hours and hours and expatiate with rapture
upon the gorgeous prospects of Duluth as depicted upon this map. But human
life is far too short and the time of this House far too valuable to allow
me to linger longer upon the delightful theme. Nevertheless, sir, it
grieves my very soul to be compelled to say that I cannot vote for the
grant of lands provided for in this bill.
Ah, sir, you can have no conception of the poignancy of my anguish that I
am deprived of that blessed privilege! There are two insuperable obstacles
in the way. In the first place, my constituents for whom I am acting here
have no more interest in this road than they have in the great question of
culinary taste now perhaps agitating the public mind of Dominica as to
whether the illustrious commissioners who recently left this capital for
that free and enlightened republic would be better fricasseed, boiled, or
roasted; and in the second place, these lands which I am asked to give
away, alas! are not mine to bestow.
My relation to them is simply that of trustee to an express trust. And
shall I ever betray that trust?
Never, sir! Rather perish Duluth! Perish the paragon of cities! Rather let
the freezing cyclones of the bleak Northwest bury it forever beneath the
eddying sands of the raging St. Croix.