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.
[BY THE GRACE OF THE QUEEN.]
Her Majesty’s Representatives On the Joint High Commission.
Washington, March 17, 1871.
To the modest suburban building temporarily occupied by the State Department the eye of the country is directed. A cozy suite of rooms are set apart in this same pile of brick and mortar, where a body of men called the joint high commission meet in order to discuss the little “unpleasantnesses” which have occurred from time to time between two governments which have both pretended to be united to each other by the most natural and fraternal ties. It is not the object of this letter to disclose any of the secrets that are caressed and embraced within those awful doors, vigilantly guarded by locks and keys, but some of the ceremonies and forms observed, as well as the dress and bearings of those in authority, may not come amiss to the general reader.