Sketches of a Number of Solons of African Descent.

Washington, March 11, 1871.

At the third session of the Fortieth Congress appeared the first colored man on the floor of the United States Congress. The name of this man was Willis Menard, and he hailed from New Orleans, La. Mr. Menard came to Washington as a contestant for a seat in the House, but his rival gained the victory. This man was allowed the floor in order to make his defence, and awarded $2,500 with which to pay the damages. Mr. Menard’s maiden speech reflected great credit upon himself and the newspaper with which he was connected, but it failed of the desired effect, and he soon after took his departure for more sunny climes. Mr. Menard was a handsome quadroon, and it is said that he derived a certain smooth, sinuous voice from his Creole ancestors.

The next candidates for Congressional fame were Jefferson F. Long and Joseph H. Rainey. These were the first colored men who obtained a foothold in the House. These men came from their respective States armed with the proper documents, and without further notice or trouble slipped into their seats in the outside row, the farthest from the Speaker. It is not known whether by design or accident it happened that their seats were chosen so very near the door. At any rate they were in the very best position that could be obtained to flee in case the wily Logan should attempt capitol moving, or the fiery eloquence of a Butler or Banks should communicate flames to the nervous surroundings. How quaint these two strange youthful faces appeared by the side of wrinkles, frost and snow. Black men? No! White men? No! But tinted a shade the Eternal knows how to mix. Jefferson F. Long, of Macon, was born in Crawford County, Georgia. With great difficulty he obtained the rudiments of an education. He was engaged in the business of a merchant tailor when he was elected, and his term of office closed with the Forty-first Congress. It always takes the first two years to learn the trade of a member, consequently Mr. Long could not accomplish much during his apprenticeship, but he proved himself as apt at the business as the average white man, and he gained the respect and good-will of his fellow workmen. He will be remembered as one of the first two colored men elected to Congress; and the Forty-first Congress will be famous only because, for the first time in the country’s history, a race which forms an integral part of the nation had a hearing through their own people. The Forty-first Congress is scored in history by a colored mark which will deepen and broaden as the Republic runs its course.

Joseph H. Rainey was born in Georgetown, S. C. His parents were natives of the same city, but by their industry obtained their freedom. He was never allowed to attend school, but in some way he managed to gather the rudiments of an education. This knowledge was vastly augmented and improved by travel in the West Indies and elsewhere. During the war he was obliged to work on the rebel fortifications, but he managed to escape and did not come back until the close of the war, and then he returned to Georgetown. He was elected a delegate to the State constitutional convention in 1868, and was a member of the State Senate in 1870, which position he resigned to fill the vacancy caused by the resignation of B. F. Whittemore, of cadet fame.

Mr. Rainey is one of the five colored members of the Forty-second Congress. In features and complexion he is far more like an Asiatic than an African. In size he has attained sufficient height for exceeding grace, and then he has a voice like a flute, and the smooth, soft velvet ways of the Orientals. It is true, he has kind of an innocent habit of putting his hands in the place where a revolver or bowie knife is usually kept; but then he says, “We all have to go armed in the South, ready at a moment’s warning to sell our lives if it is necessary. No Republican of any prominence is safe.” Perhaps no man in the country has had so strange and eventful a history as Mr. Rainey. Born a slave, though early free, reared amidst the degradation of this despotism, debarred from the light of learning, yet he takes his seat in Congress before a line indicative of age has marked his countenance, representing the town and district in which he was born. He seems to have fallen into his seat as noiselessly as a snowflake touches the earth. He sits by General Butler. Contraband! Contraband! The problem is solved.

Josiah T. Walls, the member from Florida, was born in North Carolina, of free parents, and looks as if he were about 28 years of age. He was educated in Philadelphia, and served in the Union Army, leaving school to fight the battles of his country. After the war Florida became his home, and he was first chosen to the house and afterwards to the senate of the State. He resigned his seat in the State senate in order to come to Congress. It is said that Mr. Walls is of Indian extraction, but in appearance he resembles a bright mulatto, of good features and average height. In personal raiment he is not eclipsed by any Congressman, and he may be seen in his seat, clad in polished broadcloth, spotless linen, and dainty blue necktie. A snowy handkerchief of pineapple origin, peeping from his pocket, photographs the taste of an exquisite gentleman. General Butler being absent from the House when the seats were chosen, Mr. Walls, fortunate in the choice of a good one, tendered it to the warrior, by whom it was accepted.

Robert C. De Large, of the Charleston district, is here in place of the Hon. C. C. Bowen, whose numerous wives are becoming as famous as Brigham Young’s. He presents an aspect of as much intellectual strength in his personal appearance as nine-tenths of the members on the floor. Mr. De Large was born free in South Carolina, received the scanty rudiments of an education, but being a man of great force of character, he knew how to make the most of his advantages. During the war he worked on the rebel fortifications. He has always taken an active part in politics, and was appointed clerk in the Freedmen’s Bureau. He was also a member of the constitutional convention, and subsequently a member of the legislature, where he was chairman of the committee on ways and means. Mr. De Large has acquired distinction as a parliamentarian. In person this Congressman bears very little resemblance to the African race. His mother was a Haytien, and he inherits a rich olive skin. In stature he is rather below the medium size, and his exceeding grace of manner might be imitated to the advantage of more experienced Congressmen. Mr. De Large is 28 years old.

Benjamin S. Turner, of Alabama, was born in North Carolina, in 1825, but removed to the State he represents in 1830. He was born a slave and remained so until the proclamation of Abraham Lincoln. Under the most trying and difficult circumstances he learned to read. His master’s children taught him to repeat the letters of the alphabet, but it was a long time afterwards before he knew the relation between the name and the printed character. He says he was mostly educated by reading the New York Herald, though occasionally, once in a very long time, he managed to get hold of a New York Tribune. Mr. Turner was first elected tax gatherer of Dallas County, where he was required to furnish a bond of $45,000. This he was enabled to do, but he did not enjoy the office, and so he resigned. He was then elected a member of the city council of Selma, and carried his district by over 5,000 majority. Soon after he was elected to Congress. In person Mr. Turner is above the average height, with all indications of immense muscular power. His figure might answer for a handsome statue of Hercules cast in bronze. If a man must have dark blood in his veins, it is well to be stained in the bright color of this Southern member. If the human eye is the window of the soul, what a defiant spirit crouches behind the fierce, sharp orbs of Mr. Turner. Then he has a way of biting off his words and spitting them out, as if they had a bitter instead of savory taste. Although a slave, it is easy to see that he was never made to kiss the rod. Coming to the stationery room of the House the first day of the Forty-second Congress, he requested that certain sundries be sent to his rooms, at the same time offering to pay for them. He was told that members were allowed a certain amount, which was charged to them; all over this was paid for. Said he, “I am well aware of that. If the Government allows me anything I will get it at the right time, but I’ll pay for what I have; I keep no open accounts with any man.” And the jaws closed with all the force produced by two hundred years of bondage. Mr. Turner is a strong man in his way, but whether his qualities are such as will give him distinction in Congress time alone must decide.

Robert B. Elliot, the colored man who represents the proud capital of the late hot-bed of secession, differs in many ways from the other tawny members. He is not only a genuine African, without a drop of white blood to lessen the darkness, but he is a carpetbagger of the Massachusetts persuasion. The first gun fired at Sumter opened the way for this most astonishing spectacle of the nineteenth century. Oh, the long, bitter, savage struggle between Massachusetts and South Carolina! The Palmetto State flung down the glove when her guns opened on Sumter. As fast as steam could travel Massachusetts had her soldiers in Washington to pick it up. Cotton and rice went under. Codfish and mackerel prevailed, whilst one man in the inky covering of Robert B. Elliot represents both Massachusetts and South Carolina on the floor of Congress. A shadowy halo of romance surrounds this man, and it is very hard to sift the truth from the hundred tales that are afloat concerning his origin and history. It is said that he was educated in England and that he is familiar with many languages, but none, so far, as we can understand, have heard him converse in anything but his supposed mother tongue. Mr. Elliot has been a resident of South Carolina since the war. He has a fine English education, and is a lawyer by profession. At one time he was editor of the South Carolina Leader, which he conducted with ability and considerable eclat. It is thought by a great many that he will lead the colored men in Congress. This may be so, but it is well to remember that the fiery blood of the South flows in Mr. Turner’s veins, and the probabilities are that the feuds between Massachusetts and South Carolina will not be allowed to die for the want of proper material to feed the flame. Mr. Elliot was a member of the Republican convention, also a member of the legislature, where he was chairman of the committee on railroads. At the present time the subject of railroads is of vast importance to the people of South Carolina. There is no possible way of making a thing of beauty and a joy forever out of Mr. Elliot. If he were a British commissioner or an African prince it would be all the same. Nature has fixed him up according to her best ideas of a man, and it is evident that she did not consult him or any other mortal in the matter. The New York Tribune says he is very fine looking “when his face lights up.” If this is so, there is nothing to prevent him from procuring a patent illuminator and becoming the handsomest man in Congress, unless General Butler steals a march on him and appropriates everything of the kind to be found for his own use. Mr. Elliot is reputed to be a man of considerable wealth and much refinement; but you can no more judge of his age than you could that of a porcelain egg.

Olivia.