"Is this your joyous city, whose antiquity is of ancient days?"
_Isaiah._
"One mouldering tower, o'ergrown with ivy, shows
Where first Virginia's capital arose,
And to the tourist's vision far withdrawn
Stands like a sentry at the gates of dawn.
The church has perished--faint the lines and dim
Of those whose voices raised the choral hymn,
Go read the record on the mossy stone,
'Tis brief and sad--oblivion claims its own!"
_Thompson's Virginia._
The traveller, as he is borne on the bosom of the noble James, on the
wheezing, grunting steamboat, may still see upon the bank of the river,
a lonely ruin, which is all that now remains of the old church at
Jamestown. Despite its loneliness and desolation, that old church has
its memories, which hallow it in the heart of every Virginian. From its
ruined chancel that "singular excellent" Christian and man, good Master
Hunt, was once wont, in far gone times, to preach the gospel of peace to
those stern old colonists, who in full armour, and ever prepared for
Indian interruptions, listened with devout attention. There in the front
pew, which stood nearest the chancel, had sat John Smith, whose sturdy
nature and strong practical sense were alone sufficient to repel the
invasion of heathen savages, and provide for the wants of a famishing
colony. Yet, with all the sternness and rigour of his character, his
heart was subdued by the power of religion, as he bowed in meek
submission to its precepts, and relied with humble confidence upon its
promises. The pure light of Heaven was reflected even from that strong
iron heart. At that altar had once knelt a dusky but graceful form, the
queenly daughter of a noble king; and, her savage nature enlightened by
the rays of the Sun of righteousness, she had there received upon her
royal brow the sacred sign of her Redeemer's cross. And many a dark eye
was bedewed with tears, and many a strong heart was bowed in prayer, as
the stout old colonists stood around, and saw the baptismal rite which
sealed the profession and the faith of the brave, the beautiful, the
generous Pocahontas.
But while this old ruin thus suggests many an association with the olden
time, there is nothing left to tell the antiquary of the condition and
appearance of Jamestown, the first capital of Virginia. The island, as
the narrow neck of land on which the town was built is still erroneously
called, may yet be seen; but not a vestige of the simple splendour, with
which colonial pride delighted to adorn it, remains to tell the story of
its glory or destruction. And yet, to the eye and the heart of the
colonist, this little town was a delight: for here were assembled the
Governor and his council, who, with mimic pride, emulated the grandeur
and the pageant of Whitehall. Here, too, were the burgesses congregated
at the call of the Governor, who, with their stately wives and blooming
daughters, contributed to the delight of the metropolitan society. Here,
too, was the principal mart, where the planters shipped their tobacco
for the English market, and received from home those articles of
manufacture and those rarer delicacies which the colony was as yet
unable to supply. And here, too, they received news from Europe, which
served the old planters and prurient young statesmen with topics of
conversation until the next arrival; while the young folks gazed with
wonder and delight at the ship, its crew and passengers, who had
actually been in that great old England of which they had heard their
fathers talk so much.
The town, like an old-fashioned sermon, was naturally divided into two
parts. The first, which lay along the river, was chiefly devoted to
commercial purposes--the principal resort of drunken seamen, and those
land harpies who prey upon them for their own subsistence. Here were
located those miserable tippling-houses, which the Assembly had so long
and so vainly attempted to suppress. Here were the busy forwarding
houses, with their dark counting-rooms, their sallow clerks, and their
bills of lading. Here the shrewd merchant and the bluff sea-captain
talked loudly and learnedly of the laws of trade, the restrictive policy
of the navigation laws, and the growing importance of the commercial
interests of the colony. And here was the immense warehouse, under the
especial control of the government, with its hundreds of hogsheads of
tobacco, all waiting patiently their turn for inspection; and the
sweating negroes, tearing off the staves of the hogsheads to display the
leaf to view, and then noisily hammering them together again, while the
impatient inspector himself went the rounds and examined the wide spread
plant, and adjudged its quality; proving at the same time his capacity
as a connoisseur, by the enormous quid which he rolled pleasantly in his
mouth.
But it is the more fashionable part of the town, with which our story
has to do; and here, indeed, even at this early day, wealth and taste
had done much to adorn the place, and to add to the comfort of the
inhabitants. At one end of the long avenue, which was known as Stuart
street, in compliment to the royal family, was situated the palace of
Sir William Berkeley. Out of his private means and the immense salary of
his office, the governor had done much to beautify and adorn his
grounds. A lawn, with its well shaven turf, stretched in front of the
house for more than a hundred yards, traversed in various directions
with white gravelled walks, laid out with much taste, and interspersed
with large elms and poplars. In the centre of the lawn was a beautiful
summer-house, over which the white jessamine and the honeysuckle,
planted by Lady Frances' own hand, clambered in rich profusion. The
house, itself, though if it still remained, it would seem rather quaint
and old-fashioned, was still very creditable as a work of architecture.
A long porch, or gallery, supported by simple Doric pillars, stretched
from one end of it to the other, and gave an air of finish and beauty to
the building. The house was built of brick, brought all the way from
England, for although the colonists had engaged in the manufacture of
brick to a certain extent, yet for many years after the time of which we
write, they persisted in this extraordinary expense, in supplying the
materials for their better class of buildings.
At the other end of Stuart street was the state-house, erected in
pursuance of an act, the preamble of which recites the disgrace of
having laws enacted and judicial proceedings conducted in an ale-house.
This building, like the palace, was surrounded by a green lawn,
ornamented with trees and shrubbery, and enclosed by a handsome
pale--midway the gate and the portico, on either side of the broad
gravel walk, were two handsome houses, one of which was the residence of
Sir Henry Chicherley, Vice-President of the Council, and afterwards
deputy-governor upon the death of Governor Jeffreys. The other house was
the residence of Thomas Ludwell, Secretary to the colony, and brother to
Colonel Philip Ludwell, whose sturdy and unflinching loyalty during the
rebellion, has preserved his name to our own times.
The state-house, itself, was a large brick building, with two wings, the
one occupied by the governor and his council, the other by the general
court, composed indeed of the same persons as the council, but acting in
a judicial capacity. The centre building was devoted to the House
Burgesses exclusively, containing their hall, library, and apartments
for different offices. The whole structure was surmounted by a queer
looking steeple, resembling most one of those high, peaked hats, which
Hogarth has placed on the head of Hudibras and his puritan compeers.
Between the palace and the state-house, as we have said before, ran
Stuart street, the thoroughfare of the little metropolis, well built up
on either side with stores and the residences of the prominent citizens
of the town. There was one peculiarity in the proprietors of these
houses, which will sound strangely in the ears of their descendants.
Accustomed to the generous hospitality of the present day, the reader
may be surprised to learn that most of the citizens of old Jamestown
entertained their guests from the country for a reasonable compensation;
and so, when the gay cavalier from Stafford or Gloucester had passed a
week among the gaieties or business of the metropolis,
He called for his horse and he asked for his way,
While the jolly old landlord cried "_Something_ to pay."
But when we reflect that Jamestown was the general resort of persons
from all sections of the colony, and that the tavern accommodations were
but small, we need not be surprised at a state of things so different
from the glad and gratuitous welcome of our own day.
Such, briefly and imperfectly described, was old Jamestown, the first
capital of Virginia, as it appeared in 1676, to the little party of
travellers, whose fortunes we have been following, as they rode into
Stuart street, late in the evening of the day on which they left Windsor
Hall. The arrival, as is usual in little villages, caused quite a
sensation. The little knot of idlers that gathered about the porch of
the only regular inn, desisted from whittling the store box, in the
demolishing of which they had been busily engaged--and looked up with
an impertinent stare at the new comers. Mine host bustled about as the
carriage drove up before the door, and his jolly red face grew redder by
his vociferous calls for servants. In obedience to his high behest, the
servants came--the hostler, an imported cockney, to examine the points
of the horses committed to his care, and to measure his provender by
their real worth; the pretty Scotch chambermaid to conduct the ladies to
their respective rooms, and a brisk and dapper little French barber to
attack the colonel vehemently with a clothes-brush, as though he had
hostile designs upon the good man's coat.
Bernard, in the meantime, having promised to come for Virginia, and
escort her to the famous birth-night ball, rode slowly towards the
palace; now and then casting a haughty glance around him on those worthy
gossips, who followed his fine form with their admiring eyes, and
whispered among themselves that "Some folks was certainly born to luck;
for look ye, Gaffer, there is a young fribble, come from the Lord knows
where, and brought into the colony to be put over the heads of many
worthier; and for all he holds his head so high, and sneers so mighty
handsome with his lip, who knows what the lad may be. The great folk aye
make a warm nest for their own bastards, and smooth the outside of the
blanket as softly as the in, while honester folks must e'en rough it in
frieze and Duffield. But na'theless, I say nothing, neighbor."