How Members of Congress Are Bribed — Edition Insights

The Lobbyist as a Character

Moore opens by defining a lobbyist in sweeping, condemnatory terms: “a persistent intermeddler without proper warrant in Government affairs, an unscrupulous dealer in threats and promises amongst public men.” He then declares that Collis P. Huntington fits this description exactly. The portrait is vivid and unsparing: Huntington is called “a constant menace to sworn servants of the people,” “a tempter of the corrupt,” and “a remorseless enemy to wholesome legislation.” Moore contrasts American tolerance of such figures with the practices of other nations, claiming that “the English Parliament would relegate such an intruder to the street” and that “French Deputies point to his credentials with infinite scorn.” This rhetorical strategy positions Huntington as an international anomaly, a uniquely American problem. The language is deliberately inflammatory, using phrases like “dangerous with their power, perilous with the insolence of their courtesies” to paint Huntington as both a threat and a master of manipulation.

Evidence from the Letters

The core of Moore’s argument rests on excerpts from the Huntington-Colton letters, which he presents as documentary proof of bribery. One letter, dated January 14, 1876, discusses paying a man named Carr $10,000 to $20,000 per year to “control his friends” in Congress, and requests a “written proposition from Carr, in which he would agree to control his friends for a fixed sum.” Another, from September 27, 1875, proposes spending $25,000 to have the Governor of Arizona call the legislature to grant railroad charters. A third letter, from October 29, 1877, quotes the Governor of New Mexico suggesting that a bill could be passed “with very little or no money” if sent to him directly, avoiding a paid agent. Moore uses these quotes to argue that bribery was not occasional but systematic, asking rhetorically: “Why should it cost a specific $200,000 to pass any proper bill through Congress? $25,000 to convene a Territorial Legislature?” The letters are treated as self-evident proof of corruption.

The Role of Indirection and Picnics

Moore acknowledges that bribery was not always direct. In a chapter titled “Nature and Value of Picnics,” he describes how Huntington arranged junkets for members of Congress. One letter mentions working “for the last two month to get a party, of say, 25 Southern members of Congress to go out to California and over the line of the Southern Pacific” at the company’s expense. Moore presents these excursions as a form of influence peddling, where hospitality masked bribery. He also discusses the creation of “boss” rule in California politics, arguing that the railroad monopolists controlled elections through paid bosses who drove voters “in the harness of their various parties to the polls.” The result, he claims, was “glittering heaps of spoils, concentrated in a few hands.” This section shows Moore’s broader critique: that corruption was not limited to Washington but pervaded state and territorial politics.

Readers should approach this text as a primary source document of Progressive-era muckraking, not as a neutral investigation. Moore’s use of the Huntington-Colton letters is selective, and his framing is openly partisan. The work is valuable for its raw, unvarnished depiction of how railroad interests operated in the late 19th century, but it should be read alongside historical accounts that provide context and balance. The excerpts offer a window into the language and tactics of anti-monopoly reform.

I finished that California letter about Huntington last night, and it stayed with me—how quietly power moves when no one’s watching. It reminded me of something older, about how easily a free press gets tangled in those same shadows. There’s a gentleness in tracing it back. Liberty and the news — Reading Companion felt like sitting with that thought longer, without needing to solve it.