As I enjoy a rare day off from work (and wait for the HVAC repair man to show up) I’ve been kicking the tires on a idea for the second project.
As I’ve mentioned before, my job as a congressional historian tends to straddle the ever increasing divide between history and political science. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m firmly in the former’s camp. I enjoy the evidence-based, personal, and populist aspect of political history. Political science, on the other hand, seems less grounded in what really happened and more focused on theory, bolstered by absurd equations that I left behind in algebra class and written in a language that I swear only other political scientists can understand. But what political scientists do well is take a step back and look at the big picture, getting an idea of sweeping trends in legislative behavior. I can’t help but think that the distant reading methodologies we’ve discussed over the last few weeks will allow me, proudly wearing my historian’s hat, to make similar observations.
That said, among the older wars between political scientists and congressional historians appears to be the strength of the so-called “boardinghouse caucus” in the early 19th century Congresses. During this period, Washington was a small, rather provincial city, travel to and from the capital was arduous, and congressional sessions were short. Thus, Members of Congress, would rarely bring their families to the city. Instead, they would take up temporary residence in local hotels or boardinghouses. In his 1966 Bancroft Prize winning book, James Sterling Young argues in The Washington Community, 1800-1828 (Columbia) that these group lodgings became a community for transient legislators, especially in the earlier period, when party affiliations were not quite solidified. Using anecdotal evidence—primarily pulled from diaries, letters and memoirs left the the Members themselves—Young argues that Members’ interactions over meals and during their leisure time, moreover, influenced voting behavior. In other words, Members of the same “mess” might vote together on a particular issue, having discussed and debated it “at home,” so to speak.
In 1975, two political scientists, Allan G. Bogue and Paul Marlaire, took issue with Young’s boardinghouse thesis in an article, “Of Mess and Men: The Boardinghouse and Congressional Voting, 1821-1842,” published in American Journal of Political Science. Using three different Congresses—the 17th (1821-1823), the 22nd (1831-1833), and the 27th (1841-1843)—they examine roll calls on key issues in each Congress, and compare voting agreement against several affiliations: boardinghouses, state, region, and party. I still don’t understand their math, yet, somehow, they conclude that regional and state affiliation, and, as the Second American Party system solidifies, party affiliation are stronger predictors of voting agreement than boardinghouse residence.
Bogue and Marlaire make a rather convincing case as to how Young might have misconstrued some of his anecdotal evidence, however, I also take issue with some their methods (those that I understand, at least). What muddies the water further is that boardinghouse residence, regional, and party affiliation are likely connected. A Member might live with others in their state delegations or political parties. Or maybe, as is evidenced by Young’s anecdotal evidence, they live in a boardinghouse with the cheapest rent, best location, nicest landlady, or most welcoming accommodations.
So, that leads to my initial question: how closely affiliated were mess mates, outside of their shared lodgings? Were individual messes dominated by one state, region, or party? This might be relatively easy to map. Old Congressional Directories include the home and local addresses of all Members. Though some are vague as to the exact location—they might read “Mrs. Smith’s Boardinghouse,” for example—some digging might reveal the block on which that building sat. The data gathering stage might be a bit time consuming, but I could pull together the name, lodging, party, and state, of each Member of one or more Congresses examined by Bogue and Marlaire, and upload them to a Google Map or Google Earth from there. This might be especially do-able, seeing as the D.C. “grid” has been in place since the beginning (and it appears that historic D.C. map overlays exist).
Once I have that in place, perhaps I can move on to voting analysis….gulp!
What do you guys think?

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