Mr. Peyton Randolph, speaker of the House of Burgesses in the great Colony of Virginia, is leaving Williamsburg for Philadelphia today.
The news of his departure is bandied about the town, from tavern to store to street corner. Discussion, debate and questions fill the air. News has also recently arrived of the bloodshed at Lexington and Concord in New Hampsire.And, there is that "incident" at the magazine last week. Governor Dunmore had troops confiscate the powder, of all the nerve. Townspeople were ready to march on the palace, until Mr. Randolph and others convinced them it wouldn't be wise.
But currents of puzzlement and anger still linger.
Mr. Randolph will speak to the citizenry before his departure, so there is speculation, too, about what he might say. Is he still in favor of reconciliation, of more petitions to the king? Is he leaning toward the views of those radicals like Samuel Adams and Patrick Henry?
What will happen in Philadelphia when the Continental Congress meets? Those questions are much on the minds of folk in Williamsburg on this particular day.
That's the thing about a present-day visit to Williamsburg. It doesn't just take you back in time to the Colonial era; it deposits you gently at the feet of a specific day.
My sister, my niece and I visited Williamsburg last fall. We stepped into that time machine and came out on April 29, 1775.
Had we come a day earlier, it would have been May 8, 1769. A day later would have put us on Nov. 17, 1775. And a day beyond that, on May 15, 1776.
The days are designed so that if you spend more than one day here (and you easily could and ideally should) you get some continuity to the Colonial story -- from British citizen to American patriot.
On April 29, 1775, storm clouds are beginning to gather. News from the northern colonies is disturbing. Response from England has been unsatisfactory. Powerful sentiments are beginning to swirl.
And everything that happens in Williamsburg on this day -- from the film in the visitors center, to the talk in the tavern, to the gossip from the buggy driver, to the ceremonies sending off Mr. Randolph -- will revolve around those sentiments.
This attention to detail, this rich and elaborate walk through the past, has made Williamsburg premiere among all living history centers and museums, the standard to which everyone else strives. We can't help but revel in it.
Virginia's capital
From 1699 to 1780, Williamsburg was the capital of Virginia -- England's largest, oldest, richest and most populous New World colony and later one of the most influential of the new nation's states.
Prominent Virginians such as George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Patrick Henry walked its streets, debated in its government buildings, slept in its taverns and helped establish the ideals of freedom and liberty that were to guide both the Revolution and the resulting new democracy.
In the House of Burgesses, which met in the Capitol building, Patrick Henry offered his resolutions in defiance of the Stamp Act in 1765; George Washinton introduced the Virginia Resolves against the Townshend Acts in 1769. Here, too, in 1776, Virginia adopted its own declaration of independence; and George Mason produced the Virginia Declaration of Rights, which became the model for the later Bill of Rights for the U.S. Constitution.
So, early history flows dramatically through this town.
But as Virginia grew, other locations proved more convenient, better suited to the business of government. In 1781, then-governor Thomas Jefferson moved the capital to Richmond. Williamsburg, so out-of-the-way for politics, was also off-track for industry and commerce and growth. It slipped into being just another quiet country town, disturbed briefly by Union Gen. George McClellan's 1862 campaign during the Civil War, but for the most part living out its days in relative obscurity.
But a few people thought about the past. In1926, the Rev. Dr. W.A.R. Goodwin, rector of the Bruton Parish Church there, approached John D. Rockefeller Jr. about restoring the sleepy little town to its Colonial glory.
Rockefeller was cautious at first, buying into the plan one property at a time. The first was the Ludwell-Paradise House, which was purchased on Dec. 7, 1926.
Rockefeller's enthusiasm grew to match Goodwin's vision, however, and Rockefeller supported and financed Williamsburg's restoration until his death 35 years later. Today, the restored city is governed by the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation, a private, not-for-profit educational institution.
Williamsburg includes a 173-acre Historic Area, with 88 original buildings as well as hundreds of other homes, shops, public buildings and other structures that have been reconstructed (including the Capitol and Governor's Palace), most on their original foundations. The rebuilt Raleigh Tavern opened as the first public exhibition building in September 1932.
Relive history
James Southall is proprietor of the Raleigh Tavern on this April day in 1775. "Will you be requiring a room?" he asks. "Aye, we can stable your horse, too, if ye like. But if ye've got a servant, that'll be half as much again."
Things have been busy at the Raleigh lately, but he might could squeeze us in, sharing rooms, sharing beds with other travelers. (Luckily for us, we have made other arrangements.)
"Will ye be wanting food then? Dinner's at 2 -- have to eat while we have the light. Stewed chicken, stewed carrots and a small beer'll cost ye a shilling."
He peers at us over the tops of his wire-rim glasses. "Ye aren't scholars from the college, are ye?" he asks. "We're not allowed to serve those rowdies. Nor sailors. Nor apprentices."
No food, no drink for us. But we'd like to take a look around. We might get back this way again. Southall is accommodating, escorting us through the two-story building.
Sleeping rooms are up. Some meeting rooms are down. "Aye, the burgesses gather here. Mr. Washington, he doesn't stay here, but he often comes to dine. Mr. Jefferson, too. 'Course they're off to Philadelphia. Won't see them here today. Mr. Randolph's leaving today, too. He'll tell them what's what up there. Have ye heard about our powder?"
From the tavern we cross to John Greenhow's store. A posted storebill lists the goods "just imported from London" and to be sold "for ready money only." Would we be interested in some White calico, some Blue cotton or "stuffs of different kinds for womens gowns?" Or, how about some playing cards or Fine Prints by Hogarth or Dutch Quills and Sealing Wax? Or, maybe coarse salt in bags, split peas or a few cases of preserv'd fruits. All that and more is available here.
We visit the Governor's Palace. The governor isn't receiving guests, what with the problems in town. In fact, there've been a few rumors that he's thinking of leaving soon for England. But we're welcome to tour the house and the gardens. Built in 1722, this is probably the finest house in all of America at this time, with elegant wood paneling, gilded trim, an elegant ballroom and dining hall.
We sit for a moment of silence in the Capitol. It is hard to underestimate what happened here, how the ideas and debates tossed about in these rooms have shaped and guided us, how the men who sat here made us what we are.
Daily life
And so it goes, up and down the streets -- bits and pieces of the Colonial era set in the context of daily life.
The hats, the clothes, the foods, the methods of workmanship -- cabinetry, carpentry, wheelwrighting, brickmaking, silversmithing -- are all on display. Taverns, houses, hospital, jail, military encampment all await a visit.
We can ramble at our own pace. We can sign up for guided history walks. We can take buggy or wagon rides. We can view a continuous slate of programs at the military encampment, at the square. We can take a few minutes to sit and ponder on a park bench, supping lemonade or eating an apple.
And then it is time to go bid farewell to Mr. Peyton Randolph in front of the Courthouse. The Fife and Drum Corps have gathered for the occasion. A call is put out for volunteers for an honor guard, and then the captain puts them through their paces.
There's a rustling in the audience and a jostling for position as Mr. Randolph steps onto the courthouse steps.
His remarks are brief. These are trying times. We must all stand hopeful, proud and strong. We must not accept tyranny in any form.
He steps into the carriage. The minister comes forward to offer a prayer of safekeeping and Godspeed, and the Fife and Drum Corps leads the procession away from the square.
Peyton Randolph is a popular, respected man, and there's hope in his leadership. He will know what's best for the Colonies, the townsfolk say.
At this point, they don't know that he will not take a place beside Washington, Adams and Jefferson in the annals of history. Right now, there's no way to know that Mr. Randolph will suffer a fatal stroke in Philadelphia later this year.
Nor, at this point, do they know they have years of war and hardship ahead of them -- or even that liberty and freedom will eventually triumph.
It is so easy to look back and see how it all came together that we sometimes forget what it looked like from the other side. The view from April 29, 1775, was one of hope, but also of mixed uncertainties. But looking from that side helps us appreciate even more all that came after.
That's the view we get at Williamsburg.
Contact Carma Wadley by e-mail at carma@desnews.com.