Virginia: The Old Dominion

etting under way again. But when our mooring-lines were hauled in, Gadabout backed away from her old friend,

olonial waterway-upon whose banks the foundations of our country were laid, along whose shores our earliest homes and home-sites can still be pointed out-and yet almost without a place in our literature. Other

way, made good progress. It was not long before we were looking back

many of the colonists to abandon James Towne and to build up great individual estates, each estate had to have its water front; and old Powhatan became lined on both sides with vast plantations. Later, the lands

urers, many mechanics, carpenters, coopers, and artisans of various kinds. An unbroken water highway stretched from each plantation wharf to the wharves of London. Direct

illed them with gay, ample life-a life almost feudal in its pride and power. In this day of our nation's tardy awakening to an appreciation of its c

River." From kindly responses to our notes of inquiry, we also knew that long-suffering Virginia courtesy was not yet quite exhausted, and that it still swung wide the doors of those old manor-houses to even the pa

url of the water about our homely bows. The touch of the wind in our faces was tonic, and we

, the Chickahominy, memorable for its association with the first American romance. Though the tale is perh

he Indians captured the Captain. They took him before the great chief Powhatan; and as John lay there, with a large stone under his head and some clubs waving above him, the general impression was that he was going to die. But that was not John's way in those days; he was always in trouble but he never died. Sudden

ernational romance that began in the marshes of the Chickahominy, is our chief reason for repeating it here. It is time for the story to

rcept us. But the owner of those strong dark hands that happened to be at the wheel knew the story of Dancing Poi

es went on their way to trade with the settlers at James Towne; their cargoes varying with the seasons-fish from their weirs in the moon of blossoms, and, in the moon of cohonks, limp furred and feathered things and

came the lords of the wilderness-members of the Council perhaps, and in brave gold-laced attire-dropping down with the ebb tide to the tiny capital in the island marshes. And up the stream came ships from "London Towne," spreadi

ew steep; and at one point high up we caught glimpses of the little village of Claremont. At its pier lay a three-masted schooner and s

r and possibly deep enough for a heavy dew. We scurried for chart and sounding-pole. Following the narrow, crooked channel indicated on the chart, we worked our way well into the mouth of the stream and cast anchor near a po

g trip to the village. One of the troubles about living in a home that wanders on the waters, is that

pocket in the watery world means necessity for several other new-found things. There must be a new-found washerwoman, and new-found somebodies who can supply meats, eggs, vegetables, ice, milk, and water-the last two separate if possible. True,

in touch with all the necessary sources of supply, so that in the afternoon we could make our visit to the old manor-house. And he did no

proved to deal in gasoline, and appeared to be the only one about who did. He had some of it then on the pier at Claremont; and would sell it any day in the week except Saturday. The rather puzzling exception he explained by saying that

as the Commodore made a nice, soft-bump landing at the pier, a man informed him that the gasoline had been carried to the Adventist's m

re as we dared; and Gadabout crept cautiously up to one of the stakes, so as not to knock it over, an

ook a long time to pump the gasoline into cans, and then to strain it into our tank on the upper deck. The day was about over. Relinqu