Under this marble lieth the body of Thomas Ludwell, Esq., Secretary of
Virginia, who was born at Britton in of Summerset in the kingdom of
England, and departed this life in the year 1678; and near this place
lye the bodies of Richard Kerdp, Esq, his predecessor in ye
Secretary's office and Sr.
Thomas Lunsford, Kt., in memory of whom this marble is placed by order of Philip Ludwell, Esq., nephew of the said Thomas Ludwell, in the year 1727.
As Yorktown was an important post, after three weeks' work in this section, I repaired to that ancient place. There I found two large camps. A few large freedmen's schools were established under the auspices of Philadelphia Friends, and of these Jacob Vining had supervision. Two others were under the supervision of the American Missionary Association. Both were doing a noble work for these people, who were like hungry children, grasping at the food handed them by these Christian teachers.
We had a very large meeting in the old barracks fitted up for school and meetings. There were more than could get inside, and groups stood at the door and outside the windows. Here I met two young men who had walked all the way from beyond Fort Magruder, eighteen miles, to attend this meeting. They were more intelligent than the larger portion of life-long slaves. They were encouraged in the future prospect of freedom. They said the white people declared they would soon have all their slaves back again, the same as they had before the war. Said one, "They talk it so strong it makes us trimble. For we-uns think they'd be harder on us than ever." I told them to look at that strong fort built by Confederates, which they had said "all the Yankees of the North could never take." "And where is it now?" I said. "You may rest assured it will be as I repeated to-day, 'Except the Lord keep the city the watchman walketh but in vain; except the Lord build the house they labor in vain who build it.' The Lord will never permit the house of bondage to be rebuilt, for the cup of our nation's wickedness has been filled to the brim. They will never again barter for paltry gold the bodies and souls of those whom Christ died to redeem with his own precious blood. No, never." They wept, while talking over the past, with new hopes before them of their future. They said they were well paid for their long walk, though they should work the next day with blistered feet. They were working for their old owner, as he had promised to pay them. They had sometimes felt fearful as to the final result of this war. If there were doubts, they would go as far North as they could while they were enjoying their present liberty.
A number lingered to talk with me on the prospect of freedom or slavery for them, telling me of the positive expressions of their former masters, and of their threats of having them all back again within a few months. They wanted to know what the prospect was in Washington.
"Do you think we are sure to come out of the wilderness?" said one.
"Will this sun of freedom, now peepin' troo de black cloud, come cl'ar out, an' make a bright day?" said another.
I found many of these people in trouble, because they saw plainly the old slave spirit reviving, and they were trembling with fear; but others had stronger faith. There was one poor woman, whose husband and four children were sold to a trader, to be taken down the river in a gang. When the news came to her master's home that Richmond had fallen, she said:
"Missus an' all was cryin', and say da catch Jeff. Davis. An' I hurried de supper on de table; an' I say, Missus, can Dilla wait on table till I go to de bush-spring an' git a bucket o' cool water?' She say, 'Hurry, Mill; an' I seed 'em all down to table afore I starts. Den I walks slow till I git out o' sight, when I runn'd wid all my might till I git to de spring, an' look all 'round, an' I jump up an' scream, 'Glory, glory, hallelujah to Jesus! I's free! I's free! Glory to God, you come down an' free us; no big man could do it.' An' I got sort o' scared, afeared somebody hear me, an' I takes another good look, an' fall on de groun', an' roll over, an' kiss de groun' fo' de Lord's sake, I's so full o' praise to Massar Jesus. He do all dis great work. De soul buyers can neber take my two chillen lef' me; no, neber can take 'em from me no mo';" and the tears fell thick and fast as she told me how she clung to her husband, then to her children, as the trader took them to the slave-pen to lock up till they were ready to start for the river. Her mistress ordered her to be whipped because she cried so long for her husband and children. I did not wonder at her ecstasy.
A poor old slave, called Aunt Sally, came to me April 15th; crippled with rheumatism, and walking as well as she could with two canes. She asked for a blanket or quilt, saying that one old blanket had been her only bed for seven years. I told her I should pass her home the next day, and would bring her some things. She said, "I mus' hurry back, or missus will fin' me out. You gib 'em to the man choppin' wood in de yard; he'll put 'em in de cellar for me. Missus is mighty hard on you alls;" and she hobbled back as fast as she could with two canes. But her mistress found out that she had been to see me, and told her she should never set her foot inside her yard again, neither should a Yankee. The day following I took a package for Aunt Sally, containing a straw bed-tick, quilt, blanket, and a good suit of clothes; for I had learned that Mrs. Pendleton, the daughter of ex-President Taylor, was a hard mistress. Aunt Sally had served her father, and helped bring up his children, and was now seventy-five or eighty years old. From the cold, damp cellar, with only one blanket to cover her, she had become badly crippled, and was left to die, like an old worn-out horse.