CHAPTER XXXX.
In writing the foregoing reminiscences I came near omitting an incident that unless inserted would make them incomplete. In 1868 I went to New York, via. Charlotte, North Carolina. It was a long journey by rail, on account of many disconnections and lay overs. On arriving at Greenville the South Carolina Legislators had adjourned in Columbia and boarded the train enroute for Washington, D. C. to see General Grant inaugurated as President of the U. S. The body at that time was composed of a mongrel set of coal black negroes, mulattoes and carpet baggers. Cartoosa, a mulatto, was then Treasurer of the State. A negro named Miller was General in chief of the S. C. militia of State troops. They came prepared to have a regular holiday. They carried large willow baskets full of the best provisions and champagne by the quantity, all at the expense of the State of South Carolina. On arriving at Aqua Creek, which was about 5 o'clock p. m., we took the boat up the Potomac and were furnished with dinner. When the bell rang, one of the South Carolina Legislators, a coal black negro, took his seat at the table when one of the waiters, also a negro, whispered in his ear. He replied in a very boisterous manner that his money was as good as any white man's. The waiter reported to the Purser, who took the would be gentleman by putting two fingers in his collar, lifted him up and gave him a kick that sent him reeling into the engine room. The white carpet baggers seemed not to have noticed this little side show. However the black brute continued his boisterous remarks and abusing the white race, and that he, a South Carolina representative had his dignity grossly insulted and that he was going to report the incident to General Grant on arrival. When an old gentleman who must have been between 65 and 70 years of age could not stand his abuse any longer, although the balance of the passengers were amused at his discomfiture took a pistol from his coat side pocket, shoved it near the negro's face and remarked, I stood that abuse as long as I intend to; one more word and I'll send you to hell where you belong, you black brute. The representative, seeing that this man meant what he said, kept mum. The South Carolina delegation undoubtedly made a report at headquarters of the above incident, for in the winding up of President Grant's inaugural address he expressed the following sentiments: That he hoped that white and black races would conform to the situation and that by mutual good conduct would maintain the peace and harmony so necessary for both races, or words to that effect.
Arriving in New York I took in the City. It was my first trip there since I had landed at Castle Garden from the four masted schooner, The Geneese, nearly ten years previous. I visited the large firm and emporium of H. B. Claflin & Company and spoke to Mr. Bancroft. I gave him a statement of my commercial standing, such as it was, and asked for his advice, as it was my first attempt as a dry goods merchant. My means being very limited I wanted to make them reach as far as possible. He treated me very courteously and furnished me with a salesman, whom he introduced as Mr. McClucklan. On our way to the basement he asked me, What State? I said Georgia. D——n Georgia. I stopped at once, looking him squarely in the face I said, You can't sell me any goods, I am going for some one not prejudiced against my State, and started back, when he exclaimed, Hold on, you misconstrue me; I have been a prisoner at Andersonville and I hate the name of Georgia. I do not mean to say that there are no good people in Georgia, like everywhere else. Noting a keystone that I wore on my watch chain he said, I see you are a Mason? So am I, displaying a square and compass pinned on the lapel of his coat. We can talk together, said he. If it had not been for a brother Mason I don't think I'd be here today, I think I would have died of starvation. He told me of his transit from Andersonville to the Coast. When the train stopped at a country station, the name of which he did not know but he knew it was on the Central railroad, he gave the words of distress. It was a dark night, he could hardly have expected anybody to answer it, but someone did and before the train left some one brought him enough fried ham and biscuit to last him several days. So I said, It was wrapped in a home made napkin with blue borders. He looked at me with astonishment, saying, So it was; what do you know about it. I said, I am the fellow, and told him what I did and that Mrs. Hardwick commended me for it and would not take any pay and that the station was Davisboro. The man was beside himself. He hugged me, tears ran down his cheeks; he acted like a crazy fellow. He said, You can't buy any goods today, you are my guest. He ran to Mr. Bancroft to get excused, saying that I was an old friend and that he wanted to get off that day. He hired an open carriage and we drove over the whole city, showing me everything worth seeing. He carried me around to a fine restaurant and ordered an elaborate dinner, spent his money with the most lavish hand, regardless of my protestations, for he would not let me spend a copper. The following day I made my purchases. It is useless to say that he dealt squarely with me and with his advice and experience I made what small capital I had purchase me a very decent stock of merchandise.