Jim Williams was known as a good cook, as well as huntsman. His Master, Col. Taliaferro told Jim one day that he expected great men for dinner some time soon, and “Jim, I want a turkey, a fat turkey fattened in a coop, not shot Jim!” When the day came and dinner was served, Col. Taliaferro’s knife in carving, struck a shot or two. Infuriated, the old Colonel yelled at Jim—“Didn’t I tell you not to bring me any turkey with a shot in it?” Jim who had obtained the turkey after dark replied, “Dem shots was ’tended for me not for the turkey. The white folks shot at me, but the turkey got the shot.”
The loyalty of the colered men and women for their old Masters and Mistresses during the war cannot be commended too highly. Told time and again that a victory for the Federal soldiers meant their freedom, many of them refused to leave their old homes, and remained steadfast to the end. While we cannot enumerate many of these, the opportunity to chronicle the name of one, still living cannot be overlooked. The Rev. Cornelius Lucas, who in the dark and dreadful days of war, followed his old owners, the Pollocks, is with us yet. He was with them on the march and in camp, waited on them, and ministered to them. One of the Chapters of the Daughters of the Confederacy in this town, recently decorated him with its testimonial, its cross of honor.
We know of no locality situated so near the Mason and Dixon line as is Fredericksburg where the Union Armies came with their propaganda of freedom for the slaves, which presents more of the love of the former slaves for their former Masters, and more obedience to law and order than is the case with the colored people of the town of Fredericksburg, for with rare exceptions, there has been no flagrant violation of the laws. We are of the opinion that this book would not indeed respond to the requirements of endeavoring to sketch the town and its life, without embodying within its pages what it includes of the colored men and women whose lives have been spent within its limits.
When Andrew Jackson Came
Early in the nineteenth century, on May 7th, 1833, Fredericksburg was visited by President Andrew Jackson and escort, the occasion, one of the most important of that period, being the laying of the corner stone of the old Mary Washington Monument. People from all over this general section gathered to greet the hero of New Orleans, and in addition to the detachment of Marines, which was the President’s honor guard, military organizations from Washington, Alexandria, Fauquier County and Fredericksburg, led by Col. John Bankhead, chief marshal, took part in the large parade that preceded the ceremonies.
History has recorded for us correctly what took place on the occasion. The President spoke as did also other distinguished men and, as in those remote days orators were not sparing with the time they took, undoubtedly the long suffering people stood a verbal fusilage that lasted hours. But in the end they were repaid, for the program was followed by feasting and drinking and a general merry time, at which wines, liquors and barbacued beef were served to 5,000 people, under a big tent.
The main reception was held in the old Wallace house, which formerly stood on the site now occupied by the Baker and Wallace wholesale drygoods house, and it was the scene of an incident that convulsed the dignified gathering, which was hard put to control its laughter. It came about as follows.
While traveling by road from Quantico (which was reached by boat from Washington,) to Fredericksburg, the presidential party encountered a Major Randolph, of the army, who lately had been court martialed and reprimanded on a charge that now is unknown. Major Randolph had appealed the decision of the court to the President, who much to the indignation of the Major, approved the findings. When Major Randolph met the President, he stopped, saluted and then questioned him regarding his decision. The President’s replies were not satisfactory to the indignant major and he pulled the nose of the Hero of New Orleans. News of the occurrence quickly got about the town.
That night a certain old gentleman of the most generous hospitality and the kindest of hearts but with very poor social instincts, was introduced to the President. His mental processes are not known, naturally, but probably in a desire to be especially gracious and to show that Fredericksburg and its people were deeply considerate of the welfare of their President, and concerned in all that happened to him, the old gentleman grasped the hand of the chief dignitary of the land, bowed very low and said, “Mr. President, I am indeed very glad to meet you and I sincerely hope, Sir, that Major Randolph did not hurt you when he pulled your nose to-day.”
The President flared up momentarily but seeing the innocence written in the countenance of the old gentleman, and the convulsions of those around him, he joined heartily in the laughter and assured his questioner that he was quite unharmed.