tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67444099600845451.post885423236897979506..comments2023-09-24T09:38:11.111-07:00Comments on Wandering through the NC Piedmont: Fur Craig’sMark Chiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04481176278686923107noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67444099600845451.post-75219844018866606292009-10-21T14:56:08.436-07:002009-10-21T14:56:08.436-07:00Nice work, Mark. Thanks for the historical post.Nice work, Mark. Thanks for the historical post.Chris M.https://www.blogger.com/profile/04609885695894901477noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67444099600845451.post-59274909526501106922009-10-21T08:50:43.521-07:002009-10-21T08:50:43.521-07:00Battle relates that James Craig “was a quiet, rese...Battle relates that James Craig “was a quiet, reserved, good man, so absent-minded that on one occasion he rode on horseback to New Hope church and then walked home about seven miles, forgetting that he had a horse, saddled and bridled, hitched near the church door. I heard President Andrew Johnson, in a speech delivered from President Swain's front steps, tell how, when on his way from Raleigh to seek his fortune in Tennessee, having walked from Raleigh, 28 miles, penniless and weary, he begged for a supper and a night's lodging at James Craig's. With softened voice he spoke of the cordial hospitality with which he was received, and how after abundant meals and a good night's rest he was cheered on his lonely journey by kind words and a full supply of food in his pockets.”<br /><br />Battle also tells us: “I remember that on one sad occasion a squad of unfortunates, among them one destined to be an eminent Confederate general, whose hands bore the signs of the presence of the dreaded sarcoptes scabei, were quarantined at this remote spot in sulphurous loneliness, under the sway of the terrible demon, ‘Old Scratch.’”<br /><br />Hooper includes this appealing description: “Shall he ramble into the country after fruit, or shall he go a fishing, or shall he make up a party and engage a supper in the suburbs, at "Fur Craigs?" The last measure was often adopted, because of our hard fare at Commons. Accordingly a party of some half dozen would go out and engage a supper of fried chicken, or chicken pie, biscuit and coffee. It was waited for with extreme impatience, and many yawnings and other symtoms of an aching void. At length it came upon the table, like the classical coena of the Romans, about three or four, P. M. The guests sat down, at twenty-five cents per head; and if you consider the leanness of our dinners at the Steward's Hall, you will be apt to suspect that the entertainer did not make much by that bargain.”Mark Chiltonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04481176278686923107noreply@blogger.com