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There, too, were Madison and Monroe, who both subsequently filled the chair of the chief magistracy of the republic.
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There was Chancellor Wythe, a signer of the Declaration of Independence; Marshall, the eminent chief justice, and the biographer of Washington; Pendleton, one of Virginia's noblest sons, and president of the Constitutional Convention; Mason, the sage, and personal friend of Washington; Grayson, the accomplished scholar and soldier; Nicholas, an officer of Washington'sLife Guard; Edmund Randolph, then governor of the state; Bushrod Washington, a nephew of the general; Innes, the attorney general of the state; the brave Theodoric Bland of the Continental army; Harrison, another signer of the great Declaration, and many other luminaries of less brilliancy.Of the 168 members who voted on the measure in that convention, there was a majority of only two in favor of the Federal Constitution.
Leaving St. John's and its interesting associations, I strolled into the town, and crossed the James River to Manchester, over Mayo's Bridge. ** On my way I sketched the City tavern, printed on page 435, and the Old Stone House near it, which was the first
* This view is from the burial-ground, looking southwest. The willow seen on the left, leaning by the side of a monument, is a venerable tree. It appears to have been planted by the hand of affection when the monument was reared. In the progress of its growth the trunk has moved the slab at least six inches from its original position. How imperceptible was that daily motion when the sap was flowing, and yet how certain and powerful!
** This bridge is nearly four hundred yards in length, and spans the James River near the foot of the great rapids. It was built, soon after the close of the Revolution, by Colonel John Mayo, who received a large revenue from the tolls.
Reminiscences of the "Old Stone House."—Anecdote of Monroe.—Patrick Henry.
dwelling erected in Richmond. It stand eth streets, and was among the houses in Richmond which was spared by the incendiary in 1781.
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It was occupied, when I visited it, by Mrs. Elizabeth Welsh, whose great-grandfather, Jacob Ege, from Germany, built it before Byrd's warehouse was erected. It was owned by Mrs. Welsh's, father, Samuel Ege, who was a commissary in the American army during a part of the Revolution. Washington, Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe (four of the presidents of the United States) have all been beneath its roof. Mrs. Welsh informed me that she well remembers the fact that Monroe boarded with her mother, while attending the Virginia Convention in 1788, just alluded to. * She was then ten years of age.
I passed a portion of the afternoon among the tobacco factories in Richmond, and the cotton and iron factories at Manchester, and then lingered until almost sunset upon the beautiful island above Mayo's Bridge, ** from which I
* Mrs. Welsh related a circumstance whieh she well remembered. While Monroe was boarding with her mother, Samuel Hardy, another member of the convention, was also there. Hardy was a very modest, retiring man. One morning at breakfast, Monroe, remarked to Hardy, in a jocular manner, "I have no doubt you will be governor of the state yet." "Yes." rejoined Hardy, "and you will have your hair cued and be sent to Congress." Hardy was afterward lieutenant governor of the state, and Monroe was not only "sent to Congress" as a senator, but became a foreign minister, and chief magistrate of the nation.
** Another noble bridge spans the James River a short distance above, which was constructed for the passage of the Richmond and Petersburg rail-way. A third bridge has been erected since my visit there, which is referred to on page 433.
*** Patrick Henry was born at the family seat of his father, called Studley, in Hanover county, Virginia, on the 29th of May, 1736. At the age of ten years he was taken from school, and placed under the tuition of his father, in his own house, to learn Latin. He acquired some proficiency in mathematics; but it now became evident that he had a greater taste for hunting and fishing than for study. We have already considered the character of his youth and early manhood, on page 430, until his powers of eloquence were first developed in a speech in Hanover court-house. From that period Mr. Henry rose rapidly to the head ol his profession. He removed to Louisa county in 1764, and in the autumn of that year he was employed to argue a case before a committee on elections of the House of Burgesses. He made an eloquent speech on the right of suffrage, and his uncouth appearanee was entirely lost sight of by the wondering burgesses. He was elected a member of the Virginia Legislature in 1765. During that session he made his memorable speeeh in opposition to the Stamp Act, whieh I shall notice more particularly hereafter. Mr. Henry was admitted to the bar of the General Court in 1769. At that time he was again a resident of his native county; and from that period until the close of the Revolution he was connected with the House of Burgesses as a member, and as governor of the state. He was elected a delegate to the first Congress in 1774. and there, as we have seen, gave the first impulse to its business. In 1775, when Lord Dunmore seized and conveyed on board a British vessel of war a part of the powder in the provincial magazine at Williamsburg, Mr. Henry assembled the independent companies of Hanover and King William counties, and, boldly demanding its restoration or its equivalent in money, forced a compliance. He was chosen the first republican governor of Virginia, after the departure of Dunmore, in 1776, which office he held for several successive years. In the Virginia Convention of 1788, assembled to consider the Federal Constitution, Mr. Henry opposed its adoption with all his eloquence. In 1795, Washington nominated him as Secretary of State, but he declined the honor and trust. President Adams appointed him an envoy to France, with Ellsworth and Murray, in 1799, but his indisposition and advanced age caused him to decline that honor also. He died soon afterward at his seat at Red Hill, Charlotte county, on the 6th of June, 1799, aged nearly sixty-three He had six children by his first wife, and nine by his second. He left his family rich. His widow married the late Judge Winston, and died in Halifax county in February, 1831.
* In private life Mr. Henry was amiable and virtuous, and in public and private strictly temperate. He was never known to utter a profane expression, dishonoring the name of God. He was not a member of any church, yet he was a practical Christian, and a lover of the Bible.
* Wirt, in his brilliant biography of the great orator, has given several illustrations of the power of his eloquence. I give one in conclusion. A Scotchman, named Hook, living in Campbell county, was suspected of being a Tory. On the occasion of the joint invasion of Cornwallis and Phillips, the American army was greatly distressed. A commissary, named Venable, took two of Mr. Hook's steers, without his consent, to feed the starving soldiers. At the conclusion of the war, a lawyer, named Cowan, advised Book to prosecute Venable for trespass, in the District Court of New London. Venable employed Patrick Henry.
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* The case was tried in the old court-house in New London. Mr. Henry depicted the distress of the American soldiers in the most glowing colors, and then asked, where was the man, "who had an American heart, who would not have thrown open his fields, his barns, his cellars, the doors of his house, the portals of his breast, to have received with open arms the meanest soldier in that little band of famished patriots? Where is the man? There he stands; but whether the heart of an American beats in his bosom you, gentlemen, are to judge." "He then," says Wirt, "carried the jury, by the powers of his imagination, to the plains around York, the surrender of which had followed shortly after the act complained of. He depicted the surrender in the most glowing and noble colors of his eloquence. The audience saw before their eyes the humiliation and dejection of the British as they marched out of the trenches—they saw the triumph which lighted up every patriotic face, and heard the shouts of victory, and the cry of 'Washington and Liberty,' as it rung and echoed through the American ranks, and was reverberated from the hills and shores of the neighboring river—| but hark! what notes of discord are these which disturb the general joy, and silence the acclamations of victory? They are the notes of John Hook, hoarsely bawling through the American camp, 'beef! beef! beef!'
* "The whole audience were convulsed. The clerk of the court, unable to contain himself, and unwilling to commit any breach of decorum in his place, rushed out of the court-house, and threw himself upon the grass, in the most violent paroxysm of laughter, where he was rolling when Hook, with very different feelings, came out for relief into the yard also. 'Jemmy Steptoe,' he said to the clerk, 'what the divil ails ye, mon?' Mr. Steptoe was only able to lay that he could not help it. 'Never mind ye.' said Hook, 'wait till Billy Cowan gets up; he'll show him the la'!' Mr. Cowan was so overwhelmed that he could scarcely utter a word. The jury instantly returned a verdict against Hook. The people were highly excited, and Hook was obliged to leave the county to avoid a coat of tar and feathers."—Wirt's Life of Patrick Henry. *
* This is from a picture in Howe's Historical Collections of Virginia, p. 220. The house is upon a ridge, the dividing line of Campbell and Charlotte counties. "From the brow of the hill, west of the house," says Howe, "the Blue Ridge, with the lofty peaks of Otter, appear in the horizon at the distance of nearly sixty miles." In a grove of locusts and other trees at the foot of the garden, are the graves of Governor Henry and his first wife. In the parlor of the house hangs the portrait, by Sutly, of which the one given on the preceding page is a copy. The dress is black, cravat white, and a red velvet mantle is thrown over the shoulders. The sketch of the old court-house in New London is also from Howe's valuable hook, p. 212.
Departure from Richmond.—Aspect of the Scene.—Effect of Patrick Henry's Eloquence.—His Residence.
made the sketch printed on page 433, contemplating the beauty and grandeur of the scenery, charming even in December, when the trees were leafless and the sward of a russet hue.
The storm had subsided, the clouds had dispersed, and the sun and air were as genial to the feelings as a day in mid-May. Bright and beautiful, also, was the Sabbath; but when I left Richmond for Charles City and old Jamestown on Monday morning, every thing was draped in a thick vapor which had arisen from the river during the night. I had scarcely left the suburban village of Powhatan, and turned my horse's head toward the open country, when
"That sea of vapor
Parted away, and, melting into air,
Rose round me, and I stood involved in light,
As if a flame had kindled up, and wrapp'd me
In its innocuous blaze."—Percival.
The sun came forth brilliant and warm, and for an hour I could trace the sinuous course
Appearance of the Country below Richmond. Westover. Colonel Byrd. Birth-place of President Harrison
of the James River by the line of the white vapor which stretched away, far southward, like a huge serpent measuring its mighty length over the land.
Before leaving Richmond, I endeavored to ascertain the exact location of Westover, the famous estate of Colonel Byrd, and memorable as the landing-place of Arnold's troops. I could not learn its relative position in distance from the direct road to Charles City courthouse, the goal of my first day's journey, and I thought I should pass it by unvisited. After leaving Richmond a few miles, the hilly country disappeared, and there spread out a level or gently rolling region, bearing extensive pine forests, which inclose quite large plantations. I dined in my wagon upon cold turkey and biscuit, furnished by my kind friend, Mrs. G., of Richmond, after giving Charley a lunch of meal and water, by the side of a small stream in the way. The day was very warm ***—-too warm to ride comfortablya Dec. 18, 1848with an overcoat. Not suspecting that I might diverge into a wrong road by one of the numerous forks which characterize the highway, I allowed Charley to jog on leisurely, and with a loose rein, while I gave myself up to contemplation, which was occasionally interrupted by a passing regret that I was obliged to forego the pleasure of visiting Westover.
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Suddenly, on emerging from a pine forest into an open cultivated region, the bright waters of a broad river, dotted with an occasional sail, were before me. On the bank of the river was a spacious brick mansion, approached from the country by a broad lane, in which a large number of servants, men and women, were engagedshucking or huskingcorn. The gleaming water was the James River, and the spacious mansion was that of John A. Selden, Esq., once the residence of Colonel Byrd. I was at Westover, scarcely conscious how I had reached it; for I supposed myself to be upon the direct road to Charles City courthouse, and probably a dozen miles from the spot I desired to see. I was between two and three miles from the main road, led thither by a deceptive by-way, and was obliged to retrace the journey, after passing half an hour in viewing the location. The family of the proprietor was absent, and not a white person was upon the plantation. It must be a delightful place in summer, and, when it was occupied by the accomplished family of the widow of Colonel Byrd, * doubtless justified the Marquis de Chastellux in giving his glowing account of the beauty of its location and the charms of society there. "That of Mrs. Byrd," he says, "to which I was going, surpasses them all [fine mansions on the James River] in the magnificence of the buildings, the beauty of its situation, and the pleasures of society." ** Mrs. Byrd was a cousin of Benedict Arnold, and this relationship, and the fact that West-over was made the place of landing for the British troops three times under Arnold and Cornwallis, so excited the suspicions of the vigilant Whigs, that the government once took possession of her papers. She was wrongfully suspected, and the landings of the enemy were great misfortunes to her in various ways. I made a sketch of the fine old mansion before leaving Westover, but lost it that very evening.
A short distance above Westover, and in sight of its gardens, upon the river shore, is Berkeley (called Barclay in the old books), the residence of Benjamin Harrison, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, and the birth-place of his son, the ninth president of the United States. It is a brick edifice, with gambrel-roof, and stands about an eighth of a mile from the bank of the river. Around it are tall Lombardy poplars, rising in stately beauty above shrubbery and lesser trees. I made this sketch from the deck of a steam-boat, while ascending the James River a few days afterward, at the distance of a quarter of a mile, aided in my view of the details by the captain's spy-glass.
* Colonel William Byrd, whose widow owned Westover when Arnold landed there, was the son of Colonel William Byrd, once president of the Virginia Council, and one of the wealthiest and most accomplished gentlemen in the province. Like his father, he was an active public man. He was a commissioner to treat with the Indians in 1756, and accompanied Forbes in his expedition against Fort Duquesne in 1758. Being a gay spendthrift and a gambler, his immense wealth was much lessened at his death, and his affairs were left in great confusion.
** Travels, ii., 16
Anecdote of Harrison's Father.—Charles City Court House.—Birth place of President Tyler.—Jefferson's Marriage.
For many years Berkeley was the seat of elegant taste and refinement, for its distinguished owner as a legislator, and as governor of the state, drew around him the wealthy and honorable of the commonwealth. His portrait, and a sketch of his life, will be found among those of the signers of the Declaration of Independence in another part of this work. *
Leaving Westover, I returned to the highway, and after traversing a beautiful level country, garnished with fertile plantations and handsome mansions, for about six miles, I reached Charles City Court House. It was just at sunset, and there I passed the night with Mr. Christian, who was the clerk of the county, the jailer, and innkeeper.
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His house of entertainment, the old court-house and jail, and a few out-houses and servants' quarters, compose the village.
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The county is the smallest in Virginia, yet bears the honor of having given birth to two presidents of the United States, and of being the place of marriage of a third. ** I passed the birth-place of President Tyler just before reaching Mr. Christian's inn. It is the last dwelling upon the Richmond road, when leaving the Court House. His father,
John Tyler, was one of the leading revolutionary men in Virginia. He succeeded Benjamin Harrison as speaker of the Virginia Assembly, and in 1808 he was chosen governor of the state.
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While Judge of the District Court of the United States, he died, at his seat, in January, 1813.
Mr. Christian allowed me to pass the evening searching among the dusty records in the old court-house. I found nothing there relating to Revolutionary events; but in a bundle of papers, wrapped up and laid away probably for more than half a century, I discovered the marriage license-bond of Thomas Jefferson, in his own handwriting. I made a fac simile copy of it, which is printed on the opposite page. Mr. Jefferson was married to Martha Skelton, of Charles City county, in January, 1772. She was the widow of Bathurst Skelton, and daughter of John Wayles, an eminent lawyer of Virginia. She brought her husband a considerable fortune, and was only twenty-three years of age when she was married to Mr. Jefferson. Through the stormy period of the Revolution she shared his joys and sorrows, and died in 1782, leaving two daughters. It will be perceived that in writing the bond, which is countersigned by Francis Eppes (the father of Mr. Eppes, who afterward married Mr. Jefferson's daughter), the usual wordspinsterwas introduced, but erased, and the wordwidowsubstituted by another hand.
* The Marquis de Chastellux gives an interesting account of his visit to Mr. Harrison, at his residence in Richmond, while he was governor of the state. He relates an anecdote of Mr. Harrison, which illustrates the confidence of the people in their delegates to the first Congress at Philadelphia. When he was on the point of leaving home, with Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Lee, a large number of the country people waited upon him, and said, "You assert that there is a fixed intention to invade our rights and privileges. We own that we do not see this clearly; but since you assure us it is so, we believe the fact. We are about to take a very dangerous step, but we confide in you, and are ready to support you in every measure you shall think proper to adopt." Shortly afterward appeared Lord North's speech, clearly avowing his intentions toward the colonies. When Mr. Harrison returned home, at the close of the session, the same people came to him, with the assurance that they were now convinced that he had not deceived them, that their confidence was not misplaced, and that henceforth they were determined on war.—Travels, ii., 159.
** William Henry Harrison and John Tyler were both born in that county, and there Thomas Jefferson was married.
*** The style of this building is similar to that of Hanover court-house. It is constructed of imported brick, and was erected previous to that at Hanover. I could not discover the exact period when it was built. Among its records I found notices of courts held at Charles City as early as 1639.
**** I copied this signature from a letter written to the lady of General Gates in August, 1780.
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Charles City Court House was a scene of mortal strife between the Queen's Rangers, under Simcoe, and a party of American militia, on the evening of the day after Arnold's return from Richmond. (a) Arnold had directed a patrol on that evening towarda Jan 8, 1781Long Bridge, in order to obtain intelligence. The patrol consisted of about forty cavalry, under Simcoe. Falling in with some American videttes, they captured two or three, and from them Simcoe learned that a party of militia, under General Nelson, lay at and near Charles City Court-house. The night was clear and frosty, and the moon at its full. * The enemy had no knowledge of the way. A negro prisoner was made to act
* Simcoe, in his journal, says "the night was very dark." Mr. Tyler informed me that his father, who was then at home, and witnessed a part of the affray, always declared that the sky was cloudless, and the moon in full orb.
Attack upon the American Militia.—Carelessness of Dudley.—"Sherwood Forest."—Ex-president Tyler.
as guide. The party at the Court House, consisting of one hundred and fifty militia, under the command of Colonel Dudley, were completely surprised, for they had no intimation of the immediate approach of a foe until their sentries were fired upon, and two bugles sounded the signal of attack, upon the frosty air of that winter's night.
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A confused and scattering fire ensued, when the American detachment fled and joined the main body, which lay a few miles distant, toward the Chickahominy River. A part of Simcoe's dragoons dismounted, rushed into the tavern, and seized several of the Americans. Two of the militiamen (Deane and Ballard) were killed. One of them was slain upon the landing at the head of the stairs, while fleeing to the chamber for safety. The spot was pointed out to me, where, until within a few years, the stains of the victim's blood might be seen. The attack was so sudden and furious, that those who escaped and communicated the fact to the militia under Nelson, so alarmed that body, that a large number of them broke from the camp, and fled to Williamsburg. Simcoe collected his prisoners and a few captured horses as speedily as possible, and before dawn he joined Arnold at Westover.
Mr. Tyler (the late President of the United States), on whom I called while on my way from Charles City Court House to Jamestown, informed me that his father, who was then a member of the Virginia Assembly, but at his residence at the time, aware of the force of the enemy at Westover and Berkeley, earnestly advised Colonel Dudley, the commander of the county militia, to place his men in a position for defense; offering, at the same time, to join them, and act in any capacity. He advised him to remove his party from the tavern, for, if left there drinking and carousing as usual, they would surely be surprised. The haughty colonel would not heed his warning, and the result was defeat and disgrace. ***
It was another glorious morning when I left Charles City Court House. Warm and brilliant as May, I anticipated a delightful day's journey. Nor was I disappointed. A heavy fog during the night had hung each bough and spray with liquid jewels, and these, glittering in the early sun, fell in radiant showers as the light breezes touched their resting-places. Traversing a rough road for nearly four miles, I crossed a rapid stream at a mill, and ascending to a plain half a mile beyond, I reined up at the entrance-gate to Sherwood Forest, the estate of ex-President Tyler. His mansion is very spacious, and stands upon the brow of a gentle slope, half a mile from the highway. It is sheltered in the rear by a thick forest of oaks, pines, and chestnuts, while from the front the eye overlooks almost the whole of his plantation of fourteen hundred acres, with occasional glimpses of the James River. The distinguished proprietor was at home, and received me with that courteous hospitality so common in the South, which makes the traveler feel at ease, as if at the house of a friend. Mr. Tyler is tall and slender in person, his locks long, thin, and slightly grizzled, and he was dressed in the plain garb of a Virginia planter. After giving warm expressions of interest in my enterprise, and an invitation to remain longer at Sherwood Forest,
** This tavern, in which I lodged, was built about ten years before the skirmish which occurred within and around it. It is now occupied hy Edmund F. Christian, Esq., the clerk of Charles City county when I visited it in 1848.
*** A man named Royston, whom Mr. Tyler well knew, was badly wounded in the affray. A pistol was discharged so near his head, that grains of powder sprinkled his face, and disfigured him for life. He was then struck down by a saber blow, and the troopers cruelly tried to make their horses trample him to death. The animals, more humane in action than their riders, leaped over him, and he was saved. He crawled to the residence of Mr. Tyler, where a colored nurse, the only inmate of the house, dressed his wounds and gave him food and drink. Mr. Tyler had moved his family to a place of safety, beyond the Chickahominy River.
The Slashes of the Chickahominy.—Difficulties at the Ferry.—The Chickahominy and its Associations.
he sketched a map of my route to Jamestown, as a guide among the diverging ways. Time was precious, and I passed only an hour at the hospitable mansion of the ex-president, and then departed for the Chickahominy.
Soon after leaving Sherwood Forest, I entered a low, wet region, covered with pines, called theslashes. These extended to the banks of the Chickahominy, a distance of seven miles; and in all that journey, without a clearing to cheer the eye, I saw no living thing, except an occasional "wild boar of the wood," a dwarf breed of hogs which inhabit this dreary region. Here, where once broad fields were smiling with culture-blessings, and this road, now almost a quagmire, but fifty years ago was one of the finest highways in Virginia, wild deers and turkeys abound, as if the land was a primeval wilderness. It was a sad commentary upon the past husbandry of Virginia, and a sadder picture of the inevitable result of the present bad husbandry which prevails in many regions of the South. Year after year the tillers make constant drafts upon the vitality of the soil without an ounce of compensating manure, until all fertility is exhausted. I saw thousands of acres in the course of my journey, where tillage had levied its withering taxes until the generous soil could no longer yield its tithe, nor even its hundredth. The earth was completely covered with "poverty grass," dwarf pines, or stately forests of the same tree, patiently renewing its strength during a long Sabbath-rest of abandonment by man.
It was at meridian when I emerged from the wilderness and halted upon the high sandbank of the Chickahominy, a few miles above its confluence with the James River. Above, all appeared bright and beautiful; below, all was gloomy and desolate. Silence reigned here, where once the busy ferryman plied his oars from morning until night. No voice was to be heard; no human habitation was to be seen. The broad and turbid river moved sluggishly on without a ripple, and on the beach a scow, half filled with water, told only of desolation. There appeared no way for me to cross the stream. If denied that privilege, I must make a circuit of thirty miles' travel to a public crossing above! I looked for the smoke of a dwelling, but saw none. I shouted; there was no response but that of echo. Remembering that, just before reaching the clearing upon the Chickahominy, I saw a road, covered with leaves, diverging toward the James River, I returned, reined into it, and followed it with hope. Presently I saw a log hut upon the shore, and heard the voices of men. They were negroes, busily preparing a canoe for a fishing excursion. I inquired for a ferryman, and was informed that nobody crossed now, and the scow would not float. Two of the men speedily changed their opinion when I offered a bright half dollar to each if they would "bail out" the craft and "pole" me across. They worked faithfully, and within half an hour I was embarked upon the stream, with my horse and vehicle, in a shell just long enough and broad enough to contain us. To keep Charley quiet, so as to "trim the boat," I allowed him to dine upon some oats which I procured at Charles City Court House. The Chickahominy is here about a quarter of a mile wide. The current was quite strong, and so deep, that the poles, by which the bateau was impelled, were sometimes too short for use. We drifted some distance down the stream, and, at one time, I anticipated an evening voyage upon the James River, but by the great exertions of the motive-power we reached the landing-place in safety, after rather a dangerous voyage of nearly three quarters of an hour. The bateau was again almost half filled with water, and the ferrymen were obliged to empty it before returning. I was too much occupied while crossing with apprehensions of an involuntary bath to reflect upon the perils which Captain John Smith encountered upon this very stream, before the empire of the white men had commenced; but when safely seated in my wagon upon the Jamestown side of the river, I looked with intense interest upon the wooded shores of those waters, up which that adventurer paddled. More than sixty miles above the place where I crossed he was captured by Opechancanough, the king of Pamunkee, and carried in triumph to Powhatan, at Werowocomoeo, where he was saved from death by the gentle Pocahontas. These events we shall consider presently.
I was now eight miles from old Jamestown, the goal of my day's journey. Hungry and thirsty, I was about entering another dreary region ofslashes, five miles in extent, when I
Green Spring and its Associations.—Distant View of Jamestown Island.—Changes in the River Banks.—Tradition.
saw a log hut on the verge of the woods. I hailed, but no person appeared, except a little child of six years, black as ebony, and having nothing on but its birth-day suit and a tattered shirt. It brought me a draught of cool water in a gourd from a spring near by. Dropping half a dime into the emptied shell, I pursued my way. Emerging from theslashes, I passed through a portion of the celebratedGreen Springplantation, its mansion appearing among the trees on my left, half a mile distant. *
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It is now in possession of two brothers, named Ward, formerly of New Jersey, who, for many years, as skippers upon the James River, bartered for the products of this plantation, until they were able to purchase it.Green Springwas the theater of an interesting episode in our Revolutionary history, for there the American army, under La Fayette, Wayne, and Steuben, were encamped for a few days in the summer of 1781, while watching the movements and foiling the designs of Cornwallis in Virginia.
It was almost sunset when I passed the morass in front ofGreen Spring, over which the Americans crossed to the attack of Cornwallis at Jamestown Ford. I crossed the plantation of John Coke, Esq., and halted upon the shore of an estuary of the James River, at the cottage of Mr. Bacon, opposite Jamestown island. It was too late to visit the consecrated spot that evening. I sketched this distant view of the portion of the island where-
* This was the residence of Sir William Berkeley, one of the early governors of Virginia. It afterward belonged to Philip Ludwell, one of the king's council, from whom it descended to William Lee, sheriff of London under the celebrated John Wilkes.
** This view is from the north side of what was once a marsh, but now a deep bay, four hundred yards wide. On the left is seen the remains of a bridge, destroyed by a gale and high tide a few years ago; and beyond is the James River. Near the point of the island, toward the end of the bridge, are the remains of an ancient church, a near view of which is given upon the opposite page. Mr. Coke resided upon the island when the tempest occurred which destroyed the bridge. The island was submerged, and for three davs himself and family were prisoners. It was in winter, and he was obliged to cut the branches of ornamental trees that were close to his house, for fuel. I was gravely informed by a man on the beach, while making the sketch, that Pocahontas crossed at that very spot "in her skiff," when she went to warn the Jamestown settlers of threatened danger. The dear child had no need of a skiff, had such a thing existed in America, for I was told by Mr. Coke that his father-in-law well remembered when a marsh, so narrow and firm that a person might cross it upon a fence rail, was where the deep water at the ruined bridge now is. Every year the current of James River is changing its margins in this region, and within a few years Jamestown Island, made so only by a marsh on the land side, will have a navigable channel around it. Already a large portion of it, whereon the ancient town was ereeted, has been washed away; and I was informed that a cypress-tree, now many yards from the shore, stood at the end of a carriage-way to the wharf, sixty yards from the water's edge, only sixteen years ago. The destructive flood is gradually approaching the old church tower, and if the hand of man shall not arrest its sure progress, that too will be swept away, and not a vestige of Jamestown will remain. Virginians, look to it, and let a wall of masonry along the river margin attest your reverence for the most interesting historical relic within your borders! Some remains of the old fort may be seen at low water, several yards from the shore.
Mr. Coke's Plantation.—The Council Tree.—Remains of Old Jamestown Church and Grave yard.
on the ancient city stood, and then returned to the mansion of Mr. Coke, (who is brother of the late Richard Coke, member of Congress from Accomac district), to pass the night under his roof, where I experienced true Virginia hospitality. Mr. Coke was for many years sheriff of the county, is an influential man, and an excellent practical agriculturist.
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He owns a plantation of nineteen hundred acres, nearly one thousand of which is under cultivation. Unlike too many agriculturists of the South, he is his own general overseer, and his family of seventy persons (only eleven of whom are white), receive his daily personal care. He owns all the soil that is left unsubmerged on which the English built their first town in America. His house has many bullet-marks, made there during the battle at Jamestown Ford, on the 6th of July, 1781; and in the broad level field in front of his mansion, the French army was encamped when on its way to Yorktown the same year. Within that field a venerable chestnut-oak, riven, but not destroyed, by lightning, was yet standing, under which a court-martial was held by Cornwallis, and upon its branches a culprit was hanged. It is called the "Council Tree." Mr. Coke's plantation is truly classic ground, for upon it occurred events connected with those widely-separated incidents, the opening and the closing of the heroic age of America. Over it the lordly Powhatan once walked, and the feet of his gentle daughter pressed its soil when speeding on her mission of mercy to the doomed settlement of Jamestown. Over it the royal and republican armies marched, and there fought desperately for victory.
I was at Mr. Bacon's cottage soon after an early breakfast, and before nine o'clock had crossed the estuary in a punt, and sat within the shadow of the old church tower, which stands like a sentinel, watching the city of the dead at its feet. This crumbling pile, surrounded by shrubbery, brambles, and tangled vines; and the old church-yard wall, of English brick, inclosing a few broken monuments, half buried in earth or covered with a pall of ivy and long grass, are all the tangible records that remain of the first planting of an English colony in America. As I sat upon the hollow trunk of a half-reclining and decayed old sycamore, and sketched the broken tower, the questionings of the eloquent Wirt came up from the depth of feeling: "Whence, my dear S—— arises this irrepressible reverence and tender affection with which I look at this broken steeple?
* This view is from the old church-yard, looking toward James River, a glimpse of which may be seen through the arches. The stream is here about three miles wide. It is uncertain at what precise time the church, of which now only a portion of the tower remains, was erected. It was probably built sometime between 1617 and 1620. According to Smith, a fire consumed a large portion of the town, with the palisades, at about the close of 1607, the first year of the settlement. Captain Smith and Mr. Scrivener were appointed commissioners to superintend the rebuilding of the town and church. Afterward, in speaking of the arrival of Governor Argali in 1617, he says, "In James towne he found but five or six houses, the church downe, the pallizados broken, the bridge in pieces, the well of fresh water spoiled, the store-house used for the church," &c. The tower here represented was doubtless that of the third church built, and is now (1852) about 234 years old. The tower is now about thirty feet high, the walls three feet thick, all of imported brick.
Wirt's Musings at the Church at Jamestown.—The Ancient Monuments.—Paulding's Ode.—Efforts at Early Settlement.
Is it that my soul, by a secret, subtile process, invests the moldering ruins with her own powers; imagines it a fellow-being—a venerable old man, a Nestor or an Ossian, who has witnessed and survived the ravages of successive generations, the companions of his youth and of his maturity, and now mourns his own solitary and desolate condition, and hails their spirits in every passing cloud? Whatever may be the cause, as I look at it, I feel my soul drawn forward as by the cords of gentlest sympathy, and involuntarily open my lips to offer consolation to the drooping pile." * Around this
"Old cradle of our infant world,
In which a nestling empire lay,"
the Spirit of Romance and the Muse of Poetry delight to linger, and the bosom of the American glows with increased patriotism as he contemplates this smallbeginningof the mightyprogressionaround him.
"What solemn recollections throng,
What touching visions rise,
As, wandering these old stones among,
I backward turn my eyes,
And see the shadows of the dead flit round,
Like spirits when the last dread trump shall sound!
The wonders of an age combined,
In one short moment memory supplies;
They throng upon my 'waken'd mind,
As Time's dark curtains rise.
The volume of a hundred buried years,
Condensed in one bright sheet appears. ********
Jamestown and Plymouth's hallow'd rock
To me shall ever sacred be;
I care not who my themes may mock,
Or sneer at them and me.
I envy not the brute who here can stand
Without a thrill for his own native land.
And if the recreant crawl her earth.
Or breathe Virginia's air,
Or in New England claim his birth,
From the old pilgrims there,
He is a bastard, if he dare to mock
Old Jamestown's shrine, or Plymouth's famous rock.'
James Kirke Paulding.
Although it was late in December, the sun was shining almost as warm as ata Dec 21, 1848the close of May. While finishing my sketch, I was glad to take shelter from its beams in the shadow of the sycamore. Here, upon this curiously-wrought slab, clasped by the roots of the forestanak, let us sit a while and ponder the early chronicles of Virginia. **
I have mentioned, in the Introduction to this work, the efforts made by the English, Spanish, and French adventurers to plant colonies in the New World, and their failures. The idea was not abandoned; and the public mind, particularly in England, was much occupied with the visions of new and opulent empires beyond the ocean, of which a few glimpses had appeared. Sir Humphrey Gilbert, a step-brother of Sir Walter Raleigh, published a hypothetical treatise on a northwest passage to the East Indies, which attracted great attention, and exerted much influence favorable to colonizing expeditions. He obtainedb June 11, 1578a patent from Queen Elizabeth (b) to colonize such parts of North America as were already possessed by any of her allies. Raleigh, a young, ardent, and ambitious student at Oxford, had just completed his studies, and was about to engage in a military life in France. He was induced by his step-brother to join with him in an expedition to America. They sailed early in 1579, but never reached our Continent, because, as was alleged, their little squadron was broken up in a conflict with a Spanish fleet, when they returned to England. Gilbert's patent was limited, and he made great efforts to plant a colony before it should expire. He and Raleigh equipped a new squadron in 1583. ***
* Wirt's Letters of a British Spy, page 128.
** The slab referred to was a blue stone about four inches thick. The roots of the sycamore were so firmly entwined around it that no church-yard thief could take it away. It bore the date of 1608. The remainder of the inscription was so broken and defaced that I could not decipher a name. This is probably the oldest tomb-stone extant in the United States. Vandalism has been at work in that old grave-yard as elsewhere. Almost every monument has a fragment broken from it. A small piece, with some letters upon it, had been recently broken from one, and was left lying in the grass. This I brought away with me, not, however, without a sense of being an "accessory after the fact" in an act of sacrilege.
** The names of the vessels were Raleigh, Swalloir, Hind, Delight, and Squirrel. The Raleigh went but a lew leagues from Portsmouth, and returned.
Loss of Sir Humphrey Gilbert.—Raleigh's Perseverance.—Amidas and Barlow.—Native Hospitality abused.—Grenville and Lane.
Raleigh did not sail with the expedition. Gilbert reached Newfoundland, and at St. John's he performed the feudal ceremonies of taking formal possession of the country in the name of his sovereign, in the presence of the Spanish and Portuguese adventurers who were located there. (a)