Born at Torboro, S. C., May, 1857—Entered Howard University—Elected Recorder of Deeds of Edgecombe County, S. C., in 1880 and 1882—Late Collector of the Port at Willmington, S. C.—Christian and Progressive in the Church—Eminent and Eloquent in the State.
An appeal to the Supreme Court of the United States was taken, which dragged its weary way for a number of years, but resulted in confirming the decision of the lower court. Mrs. Mason was for many years, through the patronage and kindness of Senator Garland and other members of Congress from Arkansas, a clerk in the Land Office at Washington. I found Mrs. Mason living in well-appointed apartments with her daughter, an artistic painter of some note, with studio adjoining, where I was shown many beautiful productions of her brush. I was conversant with many instances in the North where Southern planters had brought their colored families to be educated, purchasing and giving them property for settlement and sustenance, especially that their girls might escape the environments which undoubtedly awaited them at the South. These were in fine and valuable contradistinction to many cases similarly related, where they were sold on the auction block to the highest bidder. But in all candor it cannot but be supposed that in many instances the sale of the planter's own flesh and blood was involuntary. High living, neglect of the comparative relation of resource and expenditure, gambling for big stakes on steamboat and at Northern watering places, brought the evil day with attending results to the "chattel" subject to the baneful caprice of unrestrained liberty.
On the 23d of January, 1898, I was taking my leave of Paris to meet my steamer at Marseilles for a 20-day voyage for Madagascar. My stay at the hotel had been pleasant, and I supposed had received all necessary attention from the servants that occasion demanded; but in character it had been individual. Now it was united, for in doorway and on staircase they were (like Tennyson's cannon) servants "to the right of me and servants to the left of me," smiling and gracious. One, of whom I had no recollection of having previously seen, approached me with an obeisance decidedly French to remind me that he was the "baggage man" and attended to it when I arrived. I replied, "You are not the man who took up my baggage." "No," he said; "I am the man who looked after the man who watched the man who did take it up." "Oh!" I said; and then remembering that he and I had much in common, his English and my French being twins, I conceded his claim, "tipped" others that impeded my exit, and made hasty retreat.
Leaving Paris at 2:30 P. M., at 2 in the morning we reached Lyons, stopping 25 minutes for coffee and refreshments, which reached a long-felt want, arriving at Hotel de Louvre et de la Paix, at Marseilles, three hours later. Paris is prolific in names of its hotels, but this was commensurate in luxury and first class in every particular, very large, the finest in Marseilles and said to be unsurpassed in France. It is approached by a hall-way fifty feet long from Rue Canebrian (the street), which leads you into an oval-shaped court 100 by 200 feet. Around this court in niches are finely-sculptured statuary, paintings and choice flowers in porcelain vases. Out of this court you are conducted into the hotel proper. Spacious stairways of Italian marble, the tread of which covered with Turkish carpets, leads you to the interior. The court in the inner center of the hotel rises to a height of five or six stories, and is covered by parti-colored glass, which emits a soft and pleasing tint on all below. The dining room was "a thing of beauty," and the menu "a joy forever." The adornments of the room would well befit a palace. Oh, that I had the tongue of an orator or the pen of a ready writer, to fitly describe! Took breakfast and then a stroll along the principal streets of the city and the wharves of the Mediterranean. The city resembled a bee hive; the houses and streets are literally crowded with men and women of all nationalities and costumes.
Wending our way to "Notre Dame," a magnificent church on a hill, one thousand feet above the level of the city, entirely overlooking it, while the Mediterranean lies sparkling in the distance directly below. On the top of the dome of this edifice is a figure encased in gold, representing "Holy Mary" with the Christ in her arms. A gallery surrounds the church, from which the view is grand and imposing. Ascent and descent can be made by an elevator.
On the 25th of January we embarked on board our ship, the "Pie Ho," and found state room comfortable for the longest voyage of our travel. The view as we pass out of the harbor of Marseilles is quite picturesque, with its quaint old buildings, mountainous surroundings, its medley of ships, soldiers and sailors of every nation, differing in uniform and costume. Here, as I suppose it is everywhere where love and friendship dwell, hundreds had assembled at docks and quays and other points of vantage to waive hands and handkerchiefs of a loving farewell. I thought of my dear daughter on the wharf at New York and her anxious gaze until we were lost in the distance. This ship, the "Pie Ho," of a French line, is said to be old, but staunch, comfortable and giving good service; but a failure in that particular the want of which retards the success of many people of whom it could be truthfully said by Christian and moralist that they were good and reliable. The "Pie Ho" is not swift, but if she retains the commendation that oft accompanies slowness, that of being sure, we should be content. But age has its limits, and happy should all be who safely and honorably round up the voyage of life.
We are now in full view of Mount Strombol in the Mediterranean, a volcano in full blast, emitting fire and clouds of smoke. Yesterday we entered the Ionian Sea; today we have land on either side, Sicily on our right and Italy on our left, with a good view of its coast lines; cities, towns, cultivated fields and trains in motion. At 2 P. M. January 30 we see Dermot Lighthouse, and at 3 reach Port Said. The Khedive's dominion, a Government and business point, with many consular residences. It was the first sight of the "old flag" since leaving Marseilles. It is a new baptism of patriotism for one to see the national banner so far from home, and impromptu he sings, "long may it wave," for "with all thy faults I love thee still."
We anchored out in the bay, and with small boats went ashore. Port Said is quite cosmopolitan both in its business and residence features. Nearly every nationality has its representative in trade, but numerically the unspeakable Turk is very much in evidence. On landing one of the guards, numerous and whose charges are fixed by law, took us in charge to show us the city. The streets generally were unimproved and irregular, both in architecture and location. Through several dingy and untidy streets he led us to the public park, which made considerable pretension to order and neatness. The turban, the wrap, the sandals and other Oriental costumes, which made up the dress, were not more varied than the complexion of the people, but their features were generally fine-cut. A marble bust of De Lesseps, the contractor of the Suez Canal, which we shall soon enter, has a prominent place.
Through several streets, monotonous for disorder and uncleanliness, we reached the "Mosque," the Mahomedan place of worship. In the minaret high up on the tower stood an officer awaiting the hour to lower the flag as a signal to all Musselmen that they could eat, the day being one of their fast days. In all the streets through which we passed could be seen groups of the faithful with anxious look toward the minaret to catch the first downward movement of the flag. It came at last, and with it the shouting and running of the crowds to booths and stands for eating purposes that lined the sidewalks. We approached the "Mosque" with all the solemnity possible for hypocritical heretics to assume, and were met at the door by a grave and reverent sire, who interviewed the guide.
We had been told that we would have to take off our shoes (just here we noted the same pliancy observable in many of our own denomination when there is prospect of getting the almighty dollar). In some way the matter was compromised by putting on over our shoes large sandals made of straw. After paying 50 centimes each (equal to 10 cents in our currency), we entered a large room without furniture or other adornment, with stone floor, some matting, upon which a number of worshipers were kneeling and supplicating "Allah," their supreme being. There was an earnestness that bespoke sincerity, and an all-abiding faith. I could but think how few of us who would criticise are true to the creed we profess.