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Virginia: The Old Dominion

Chapter 6 IN THE OLD CHURCHYARD

Word Count: 2358    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

irit. All the charms usually associated with such a life are blotted out by the lowering clouds, washed away by the falling water. And how the houseboat shrinks when it gets so wet! With d

od for the mind on the book-shelves above and plenty for the body in the lockers below. Lady Fairweather found a diversion of her own. She sat for a good part

ain. As we were about to start, the sailor rushed into the forward cabi

of breakfast food. Nautica, suddenly remembering one of the best things for extinguishing burning gasoline, was making everything fly as she frantically sought to reach a stowed-away bag of flour. The bag and the Commodore appeared about the same time

. Distracted Lady Fairweather suddenly rushed to her cabin and back again, and she too wildly cast a shower of something white into the blaze. Then she stood pale and speechless, all unconscious of the dainty, empty pink box clasped in both hands, and of her own hero

ur off. It was hard to tell what was the matter with the Commodore, or to take his troubles seriously. He had slightly scorched hands of course. But t

it came to go out. When fairly presentable again, we went

no sooner got to the island than we fell in with the custom. It was not a good custom. Even with the fire out we were in trouble; for Gadabout hadn't a piece of bread

ed to the starving new colonists. But Nautica held that such an appeal should be made in person; that the Com

with his basket, soon set off along the island road. Upon rea

t came off in a way that told that t

you tell me which way to

t's done been burn down? Well, dat was de big house, yas, suh. But it ain' no good to stop dere

ds having a border of trees skirting the water's edge. At last the "little big" house was reached. All the members of the family were awa

he island unless something were done at once. The gloomy picture did not seem to impress the young woman very painfully, for her reply was a laughing one; but a sack of flour went into the basket and a big loaf of bread besides. Upon its coming out in the

xclaimed Lady Fairweather. And by that n

mes River side, we entered in among the shadows that enwrap the ruined church and the crumbling tombs of the village dead. The graveyard, or what remains of it, is coextensive with the grove. When most

prevented from seeing satisfactorily some of the tombs, as they were boxed over to protect

ost who lie here, the last record has crumbled away. Proud knight, proud lady, gentlemen, gentlewomen, an

en brought over, a slender sapling, from England. But a few parts of words remain on the broken stone, and the date is gone. Though after the death of her husban

clearly defined. They show a draped figure and some smaller designs that have been taken as indications of knighthood, and have led to the conjecture that this is the tomb of Sir George Yeardley, governor of the Colony of Virgi

humble but hopeful wrong-doer who lies under the chiselled

that terrible harvest that Death reaped in the ruined village! But perhaps they tell it all as hosts of tombs could not do. One reads between the stones, then far out beyond them wher

re the remains of a Confederate fort. But, modern as they are, they have done what they could to put themselves in harmony with the ancientness all about. The slopes are grass-grown and even tree-grown. Within the walls is the caretaker's cottage

ed yet another time down where the marsh reeds lined the way. Grasping handfuls of the coarse grass, the Commodore started to illustrate how the colonists bound thatch, doubtless from that very marsh, to make roofs for their flimsy cabins. But the marsh furnished s

have felt with their short visit, we could only pity them. Yet such a visit, of a few hours at most, is all that is possible here except for one who brings his home with him, f

t of our long lying in the marshes; and one day she deserted the ship and sailed away on a bigger one. We thought she was

e neighbours. Fortunately, the mosquitoes did not feel that hospitality required them to call upon the strangers or to show them any attention except in the evening. Even then they were more or less d

e, brackish water. To-day, two artesian wells are flowing on the island. As we got our supply from them, we often thought of how those first settlers suffered and died for want of pure water, when all the while this inexhaustible supply lay imprison

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Virginia: The Old Dominion
Virginia: The Old Dominion
“They seem to have built their fort and their little settlement within it about five hundred feet farther down stream and some distance back from the shore. It was in the form of a triangle and had an area of about an acre. Its entire site has been generally supposed to be washed away, but the recent researches show that such is not the case. A considerable part of it is left and is now safe behind a protecting sea-wall. As, at the time of our visit, nothing marked this remnant of the historic acre, we undertook to locate it. Fortunately, the Confederate fort stands in such position as to help in running the boundaries by the map.”
1 Chapter 1 ALL ABOUT GADABOUT2 Chapter 2 OUR FIRST RUN AND A COZY HARBOUR3 Chapter 3 LAND, HO! OUR COUNTRY'S BIRTHPLACE4 Chapter 4 A RUN AROUND JAMESTOWN ISLAND5 Chapter 5 FANCIES AFLOAT AND RUINS ASHORE6 Chapter 6 IN THE OLD CHURCHYARD7 Chapter 7 SEEING WHERE THINGS HAPPENED8 Chapter 8 PIONEER VILLAGE LIFE9 Chapter 9 GOOD-BYE TO OLD JAMES TOWNE10 Chapter 10 A SHORT SAIL AND AN OLD ROMANCE11 Chapter 11 AT THE PIER MARKED BRANDON 12 Chapter 12 HARBOUR DAYS AND A FOGGY NIGHT13 Chapter 13 OLD SILVER, OLD PAPERS, AND AN OLD COURT GOWN14 Chapter 14 A ONE-ENGINE RUN AND A FOREST TOMB15 Chapter 15 NAVIGATING AN UNNAVIGABLE STREAM16 Chapter 16 IN WHICH WE GET TO WEYANOKE17 Chapter 17 ACROSS RIVER TO FLEUR DE HUNDRED18 Chapter 18 GADABOUT GOES TO CHURCH19 Chapter 19 WESTOVER, THE HOME OF A COLONIAL BELLE20 Chapter 20 AN OLD COURTYARD AND A SUN-DIAL21 Chapter 21 AN UNDERGROUND MYSTERY AND A DUCKING-STOOL22 Chapter 22 A BAD START AND A VIEW OF BERKELEY23 Chapter 23 THE RIGHT WAY TO GO TO SHIRLEY24 Chapter 24 FROM CREEK HARBOUR TO COLONIAL RECEPTION25 Chapter 25 AN INCONGRUOUS BIT OF HOUSEBOATING26 Chapter 26 THE END OF THE VOYAGE