pecuniary condition of those it employs, General Banks moved that
Vinnie Ream should be paid an additional five thousand dollars
for her immortal statue of Lincoln. In the most feeling manner he
referred to the years of patient toil which the young artist had
bestowed upon the model. In language of a statesman he depicted
the woman, and the beauty and purity of the marble of which the
celebrated statue is composed. All the strong points of the case
were handled with a master’s dexterity, and General Banks suddenly
collapsed before the scorching corruscations of his own mind. General
Butler then arose and declared himself safe on the woman question.
He had no objection to Vinnie Ream’s rosy lips and bright eyes, so
long as they continued to be Congressional property, but he dare not,
even for her sake, pick the national pockets in the daytime; and he
therefore gave way to Mr. Dawes, the most economical man in Congress,
who seemed to be exceedingly annoyed that his gallantry should be
held up as a target for the shafts of less scrupulous Congressmen.
Mr. Dawes protested against this bold proposition of General Banks;
but a disinterested observer could perceive by the drooping of his
eyelids, and the ready, flute-like tones of his voice, that a woman
was in some way mixed up with the case, and that he was battling as
only a man can with the waters of demoralization. Another Congressman
was about to make a speech against giving Vinnie the additional five
thousand, but before he had time to open his lips he was seized by
one of the monsters of the lobby and hurried to a spot where a view
of Vinnie’s modest studio greeted his vision. Filmy lace shrouded
the tall gaunt windows. The clear little doves which the inimitable
artist had brought from Rome were cooing and kissing, and baskets
of flowers were slowly steeping in the beams of amber sunshine. The
member fell on his face and wept, at the same time General Banks and
the motion were carried.
OLIVIA.
PRAISE FOR DEPARTING LEGISLATORS.
VALUE OF GEORGE W. JULIAN’S SERVICES TO THE NATION.
WASHINGTON, _March 7, 1871_.
The Forty-first Congress of the United States has passed into
history. It will simply be remembered on account of its negative
qualities. It has done little good to its friends, and less harm to
its enemies. It attempted reconstruction, but this was too large
a pill for so small a throat, so the whole matter has been stowed
away in Ben Butler’s committee room, where it is expected that it
will be kept in the very best state of preservation. No law has been
enacted to protect the Southern Unionist, whilst the bloody Ku Klux
and fierce highwayman hold possession of every inch of the late
Confederate soil. Is not the word “liberty” a mockery when every
prominent Republican in certain districts of the country has to go
armed to the teeth? when women, for expressing their sentiments, are
taken from their beds at midnight and cruelly flogged by fiends with
human forms and masked faces? With a Republican administration and
a Congress made up of a majority of the same element, why are not
life and free expression of opinion protected everywhere? Who is to
blame for murder, rapine, and violence? Who is to blame for the pall
which is slowly settling down upon the forces of the late grand army
of the Republic? Is it not madness to talk about universal suffrage
and universal amnesty when life and property are no more safe than
in the South American republics? Why should we attempt to annex more
territory, when, apparently, we have not the strength to keep the
peace within our own domain? If Congress denies the President power
to send the military wherever the laws are defied, let him bring the
same influence to bear upon it as in the San Domingo business, and
the matter will be settled in less time than it takes to cook this
national pie. Where is the coming man or woman who will have the
power and strength of mind to blot out Mason and Dixon’s line, and
who will make this nation feel that it had no North, no South, no
East, no West, but that it is one conglomerate whole, like a huge
glacier or a mountain boulder?
The Forty-first Congress will be remembered because some of the
largest minds and best men in the country with its departure will
step back into the ranks of private life. It is a national loss when
such men as George W. Julian can be found no longer on the floors of
Congress. As chairman of the Committee on Public Lands he has saved
millions of dollars for the Government. Firm as adamant, he has stood
before the waves of corruption, whilst the humblest and weakest have
always found in him a firm friend. It is true, he is one of the
warmest advocates of woman suffrage, and for this reason, perhaps
more than any other, the womanhood of this country should give this
important subject a most thorough investigation, for when a great and
good man like Mr. Julian advises what is good for us let us listen
and not be afraid. Mr. Julian is not only immense in physical size,
but he also has a colossal mental organization. At all times he is
an ardent searcher after knowledge and truth. Not a great many years
ago Mr. Julian lost a most beautiful and accomplished wife, and very
soon after a boy of rare promise. How the strong man writhed beneath
this double blow! For months he seemed more like a stone statue than
a living man. Meeting him one day and noticing that look of the grave
on his face, the writer ventured to say, “If there is any truth in
spiritualism, she may be very near you.” “If there is any truth in
spiritualism I will know it,” replied Mr. Julian. After a separation
of months we met again. “Any tidings from the unknown bourne?” “None!
None whatever. I have patiently investigated. It is all chaff! chaff!
I have not been able to gather a single kernel of wheat. God will
take care of us all in his own way. I think I am learning the lesson
of submission, and this is the hardest task man is ever set to learn.”
Mr. Julian was an Abolitionist in the days when nothing could be more
disgraceful; when urchins, with boys of a larger growth, pelted the
unfortunate advocate of such ideas with eggs no longer fresh laid.
During the long bitter years of the rebellion Mr. Julian worked with
untiring energy, not only in his seat on the floor of the House, but
wherever he was needed he proved himself to be the soldier’s friend.
He has served twelve years in Congress, and during all this time
he has never been identified with any legislative measure except
such as reflects credit on his judgment and the Republican party.
If he has not achieved immortal renown during his last term as a
member, it is because the Forty-first Congress has been in a mildewed
condition from the beginning to the decline. Mr. Julian has just
passed the noon of life, but the flush of morning still shines in his
countenance, and on bright, sunny days he may be seen wending his way
toward the Capitol, his fine face aglow with honest, kindly feeling,
and his majestic form towering a whole head above the majority of his
countrymen. Let the country he has so long and honorably served bid
him a momentary adieu, with the expectation that he will respond at
any future time when the services of a man are required who needs a
reputation like that of Cæsar’s wife. The nation’s loss is Indiana’s
gain, and if the benighted State is to be regenerated, the result
will be brought about through the unremitting toil of such men as
George W. Julian.
The Commonwealth of Ohio has recalled Judge Welker and Judge
Lawrence, two of the soundest Republicans and safest men in the
country. As one of the most prominent members of the Committee for
the District of Columbia, Judge Welker has had no easy task to
perform. All matters of importance pertaining to the District have
been brought to his notice, and all complaints for which it was
supposed that Congressional legislation could provide a remedy have
been poured into his ears unsparingly. If any abuses were found to
exist at the national lunatic asylum the presence of Judge Welker was
instantly sought. This man has been six years in Congress, and during
this time no man can show a better record. He has never been caught
in the snares of the lobby, and he goes back to his constituents
with clean, spotless hands. It is rumored that Ohio intends to make
him a governor, and if the best material is needed for the sacrifice
nothing better can be found. Judge Welker is a self-made man, and
that may help to account for his firm, steel-like qualities. It would
take the sum total of twenty-five ordinary Congressmen to make a man
equal in every moral aspect to Judge Welker; and when it can be said
that he is made of colors that will not wash, and that neither man,
woman, nor child ever pinned their faith to him and was disappointed,
nothing further is necessary descriptive of his character.
In figure this late Congressman is rather below the medium size, with
a finely formed head, crowned with heavy luxuriant curls, in exchange
for which a woman would almost sell her birthright. Now add a pair of
deep, dark eyes, so transparent that you can often catch a glimpse of
the soul within, and you have the leading points that indicate the
man known as Judge Martin Welker.
Judge Lawrence has been a brave man on the floor of Congress, and no
member has inspired the lobby with greater terror. He has always been
the sworn foe of railroad schemes, ocean subsidies, corporations, and
monopolies. How vigilantly he has watched the late appropriation
bills; and he never seemed to realize that there was any difference
between Uncle Sam’s pocket and his own. How thoroughly he has
attended to the affairs of his constituents. If he has sometimes been
accused of selfishness, Ohio has never had reason to complain, for if
he has sinned in this respect it has all been done for her sake. Mr.
Lincoln declared during the late rebellion that Massachusetts, Ohio,
and Iowa controlled the destiny of this nation. If this is conceded,
it is because of the strength of the Congressional delegation of
these respective States. Ohio has been trying the experiment of
“rotation in office,” and for the next two years the old Buckeye
State will be out at sea on her trial trip. It is true some of the
old officers are left at their posts, and if no storms arise the ship
will probably return in safety.
Iowa, not content to let well enough alone, has recalled two-thirds
of her late delegation. No longer will the eye of the gallery be
dazzled by him who has been termed the handsomest man in Congress.
Alas! alas! William B. Allison is no more in the seat he lately
occupied. Never again will the large brown eyes be seen wandering
uneasily from floor to ceiling, seeking some soft, receptive
spot, whereon to languish and die. Mr. Allison’s Congressional
reputation rests upon the fact that to all appearances he has been
the bosom friend of Representative Hooper, of Boston. It is not
known positively whether Mr. Allison will return to Iowa and resume
the practice of law, or whether he intends to be stuffed and sent
to Boston to occupy a conspicuous ornamental place in Mr. Hooper’s
gorgeous library. As soon as a decision is reached the people shall
be apprised.
Mr. Loughridge, of Iowa, also goes out. He will chiefly be remembered
as favoring the minority report on the woman suffrage question in
the Judiciary Committee. Judge Loughridge agrees with Mrs. Woodhull
on the fourteenth and fifteenth amendments to the Constitution, and
thinks women are already entitled to vote.
Pennsylvania has made a great clearing in the ranks of her
Representatives. One-half of the late members of the Forty-first
Congress are re-elected. But this includes the late Hon. John Covode.
According to the record, eleven of the old members are in their
seats and thirteen new men are to try their hands at the raw work of
legislation. The most prominent men who retire are Charles O’Neill,
of Philadelphia, and Daniel J. Morrell, of Johnstown, both able men
on the floor. Mr. O’Neill has been in Congress eight years, winning
fresh honors with every succeeding year, and just at the present
time, when he has attained the zenith of Congressional usefulness, he
slips back into the calm waters of private life. If Philadelphia can
stand the affliction there is no one else to complain. Hon. Charles
O’Neill looks as if he had just laid aside all care and trouble and
was about to commence the world again.
Chicago recalls the stately Mr. Judd, one of the most courtly
and elegant men in Congress. Few men are stronger than he is in
legislative matters; but a man of polished manners is remarkable
because the House of Representatives is not noted for its laws of
genteel propriety. And then it is so strange that Chicago should be
distinguished for its grace or courtly qualities.
The Hon. Shelby M. Cullom goes also, but then it is said that he
will return next winter as Congressman for the State at large. The
greatest wit in Congress, Proctor Knott, retires to the shades of
Lebanon, Kentucky. Who will forget his memorable speech on the
railroad to Duluth and the paving of Pennsylvania avenue? We know
nothing about his qualities as a legislator, but blessings be on the
head of a man that can make us laugh.
Rogers, of Arkansas, actually yields up the legislative ghost.
Rogers, the man who wanted all the women of the Treasury blown out
exactly as the flame of a lamp is served. “Poor Rogers,” Susan B.
Anthony calls him. If the delectable Susan meant poor in flesh, she
was right, for Rogers resembles a bear immediately upon waking up
after taking its long delicious winter snooze.
This letter comes to an end because no more ex-Congressmen to-day can
step across the vestibule of our mind.
OLIVIA.
THE BLACK MAN IN CONGRESS.
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.