Bachelor Musings, Brandy, & Babies- Christmas 1916

 From the West Point News of December 22, 1916

ROXBURY

 I wonder who will think of me? This is the question uppermost in the minds of everyone as Christmas, the happiest of all days, draws near. I heartily agree with the editorial in the last issue of the News entitled “Christmas Gifts.” Who is going to remember in some small way the poor widows, orphans and the sick and afflicted in their neighborhood? This has been a prosperous year with Those who give cheerfully, [        ] be made happy. As to this writer in my little bungalow alone with little snookums, I will be happy with good health and plain food. To see  others happy, always makes me happy.

 Brother Peters* has played havoc with his prohibition law. Not [     ] that Baltimore quart can be de[    ] to the man unless he have a [                 ] like he was trying to force the bachelors to marry whether we wish to or not. Man can manage the quart, if not good, he can throw it away, but; when he is tied to the apron strings of a woman, he has to keep her; no one else will. He can’t throw away or trade her off for other live stock. So we bachelors stand between Hades and the deep blue sea. As for this scribe, I never tasted ardent spirits in my life. I would not know the taste of brandy from sauerkraut, yet it seems free America is at last unkind people. He says he is growing fat on fine oysters, ducks and other good things to eat from the kind people of Gloucester. Brother McNeil and family, I send through the columns of the News congratulations. God bless your labors in your new field. We sadly miss you but our loss is another’s gain. Brother McNeil, remember oysters do not grow up here so if you have more than you can manage, send some to your old friend, Truthful Jeems. 

 If one gossip is on straight in this neighborhood some of the pretty teachers have decided to remain permanently in New Kent and it is said they do not expect to live alone.  

The stork visited the home of Mr. and Mrs. D. A. Bailey Tuesday night and left a beautiful little baby boy with Mrs. Ida Carey as a Christmas present. Mr. and Mrs. Cary are being congratulated by their many friends.

 Mr. H. C. White and Roy Bailey were visitors at Wrights bungalow last Sunday.

 Young George Crump, who through mistake shot a deer for a rabbit, was tried by Justice Wright† Friday and was fined $5.00 and costs which George paid with a smile. The deer was a three year old doe and weighed 105 pounds. On the market in season, the deer would have sold for $30. The strict game law has caused an abundance of all kinds of game.

TRUTHFUL JEEMS.

* I assume 'Brother Peters' is the first Commissioner of the Virginia Department of Prohibition, J. Sidney Peters. Statewide prohibition had been approved by a referendum of Virginia voters in September of 1914. 

† 'Justice Wright' and 'Truthful Jeems' were one and the same. 

Christmas in the South - 1870

 From the Christmas edition of Harper's Weekly 1870

Christmas in the South - Egg-Nog Party -12/31/1870

The Tidewater and Big Bend Foundation

 Here is a link to the website for the Tidewater and Big Bend Foundation which owns numerous historic properties in New Kent and Charles City. Whatever ones opinion of the purchases one has to admit it is a nice informative site.

A list of some of the historic properties in New Kent owned by the Foundation (though some of these are still held under the name of Criss Cross Properties.)

Cumberland

Cedar Hill

Cedar Lane

Moss Side

Shuttlewood

Spring Hill

Rose Garden

Scottsville

South Garden

Hampstead

Iden

"Cold and Clear" - December 1924

     QUINTON

 Cold and clear and all have begun to feel that Christmas is, near. Already one can get the odor of nice fruit cake and boiling hams, etc. The old gobbler and fine fat fowl await the fatal day when they will be led to the gibbet, where the execution will take place without ceremony. All merchants are putting in heavy stocks of goods, expecting fine sales. We hope they will cut out the sale of pistol cartridges, that often lead to the death of some one, with the only explanation 

Let New Kent follow the example of our neighbor county, Henrico. No cartridges for pistols sold, no trespassing, no cutting and carrying away by wagon and automobile our beautiful evergreens, holly, cedar, running cedar. Every year crowds come down here and strip the forest of the beautiful trees for Christmas decorations. They have no more right to go into a man’s forest and cut and carry away those beautiful trees than they have to go into a man’s cornfield and carry away his corn crop. That is the reason our birds leave us in the winter: their winter food, the holly berries, is carried away. Yes, carried away and sold for fancy prices.*

 Thanksgiving day was generally observed here. Many sportsmen were out, but very little game was killed, as they were told to move on. This they did, while they had a chance and going was good. Henrico county did some fine work, as many as 20 huntsmen being arrested for trespass and hunting without license. Each was fined $15 and costs. This was a sad day, as many had to eat their dinner at the expense of the county taxpayers.

  . . .

TRUTHFUL JEEMS.

- West Point News, December, 1924

* New Kent at the time was an important manufacturer of Christmas wreaths.

Holt's Forge

 

  In June, 1870, a freshet, the result of previous heavy rains, overflowed and broke the dam at a point known as Old Forge, on the Jones branch of the Chickahominy River, in New Kent County, Virginia. Trees were overturned, a building  undermined, and a gorge cut, uncovering in its route the remains of an early forge or smelting furnace. The foundation, portions of a chimney, an anvil, a hammer, and six bars of iron were exposed to view- one of the last, bearing in raised letters the inscription "B.G., 1741," which were supposed to indicate the place and date of manufacture; the first of which was assumed to have been Bear Garden furnace, Buckingham County, Virginia. The forge is marked on Fry and Jefferson's Map of Virginia 1765 as Holt's Forge. It must have commenced operations at a period not much later than 1741, if not as early, and was continued until some time during the Revolutionary war.

 Tradition assigns to Col. William Byrd (the second) the credit of erecting and first working the forge, and Mr. William H. Christian, of Richmond, states that in his boyhood he was informed by an old negro man, named Guthridge, that his owner, one Jones, who operated the forge until its destruction, stationed him, then a youth, upon an eminence to watch the movements of the British soldiery who were in the section. Their approach being descried, the buildings were hastily fired and earth thrown upon the ruins to conceal the tools, &c. After the war bar iron was produced so cheaply in other sections that no efforts were made to revive the works. A grist-mill being erected in late years near the site of the forge and driven by water from the pond used for its operations was first called Providence Mills, but such was the force of custom that the residents of the section would retain the old designation, Forge; hence the new and old name has by common consent and usage been united in the component term Providence Forge. 

 "Early Iron Manufacture in Virginia 1619- 1776" By R.A. Brock- (Secretary of the Virginia Historical Society) in Proceedings of the United States National Museum, Volume 8- 1886

An interesting note on this article, after consulting the Fry/Jefferson map, I do not find any mention of a "Holt's Forge." There is a "Holt" located on the map somewhat to the west of Cumberland on the Pamunkey, but the only spot located near present day Providence Forge is "Soane's Bridge." 

Of course this same map also locates Whitehouse just east Brickhouse almost on Weir Creek.

Plentiful as Rabbits - 1920

 

                                                    QUINTON

 . . .

The hunting season for deer will soon open in New Kent and they are as plentiful as rabbits. All are surprised to see several white deer among the herds. One lady while riding out on her farm on horseback was badly frightened when three of the white beauties jumped into the road ahead of her horse. The horse bolted, carrying the fair rider over fences and ditches, but being an expert rider she kept her seat until safe at home.

-West Point News, 30 July 1920

I did not know this until researching this piece that a piebald deer is entirely different than an albino one. From ncwildlife.org . . .

Piebald deer are deer that have blotches of white coloration on portions of their hide that are usually dark in color. Albino deer are deer that lack pigmentation and have a completely white hide and pink eyes, nose and hooves.

For more information on piebald and albino deer here and here

 A reminder that today is not only Columbus Day, a federal holiday since 1937, but in Virginia it is also Yorktown Victory Day.

From the Code of Virginia

 § 2.2-3300.

The second Monday in October - Columbus Day and Yorktown Victory Day to honor Christopher Columbus, a discoverer of the Americas, and the final victory at Yorktown on October 19, 1781, in the Revolutionary War.

The D.A.R., Daughters of the American Revolution, had been petitioning for some sort of Yorktown commemoration to be made a national holiday since early in the 20th Century.

Strangely enough we also have in the Code . . .

 § 2.2-3302. Observance of Yorktown Day.

The nineteenth day of October of each year shall be recognized and celebrated as Yorktown Day throughout the Commonwealth. The observance of Yorktown Day shall not be considered a paid state holiday.

Apparently there was an unsuccessful drive in the mid 1980s to make Yorktown Day a paid state holiday. I believe, though the whole thing is rather vague, as are many things the General Assembly does, that "Yorktown Victory Day" was added to the Columbus Day holiday as a compromise.

Tragedy on the Diascund - 1930

  Three persons were drowned when a small outboard motor boat capsized in Diascund Creek near the mouth of the Chickahominy River. They were Robert E. Garnett, Jr., who live seven miles from Richmond on the River Road; Raymond Peay of near Seven Pines, and Miss Mable Davis of Richmond. Miss Lowis Owens, the fourth member of the party, was rescued.

-Smithfield Times, 15 May 1930

Dynamite Charge Brings Third Victim of Tragedy In Chickahominy River to The Surface Yesterday. 

RICHMOND, May 13—(AP)—The body of Miss Mable Pearl Davis, 21, was found at 10 o’clock yesterday morning in the Chickahominy River, three days after she and two men were drowned. It will be sent today, for burial, to her family home at Dillwyn. Dynamite brought the body to the surface about 300 yards from the spot where the boat in which she was riding with Raymond Peay, Robert Garnett, Jr., and Miss Lowis Owens, capsized. Miss Owens made her way to a swamp and was rescued.

 Miss Davis, who had resided at 2310 East Broad street, was the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Willie W. Davis, of Dillwyn. Besides her parents, four sisters and three brothers survive. One of these sisters, Miss Virgie Davis, lives at 14 East Main street.

 Walter Dawson, deputy motor vehicle commissioner, and Henrico County Officer J.O. Blakenship, who had charge of the searching party which dragged the river night and day to recover the body, turned the body over to Woody’s Funeral Parlor. The body will be shipped from Richmond by the Chesapeake and Ohio at 11:40 o’clock this morning to Bremo Bluff, where relatives will meet the train. The bodies of the drowned men were found Friday night and Saturday morning. Miss Owens was the sole survivor of the tragedy.

 

-Suffolk News-Herald, 13 May 1930

     NEW KENTER FIRST TO LOSE BEER LICENSE 

       PROVIDENCE FORGE MAN VIOLATES SUNDAY BLUE LAW 

 The first violator of the Sunday beer law had their license revoked by the ABC board in Richmond on Tuesday when it was announced that Mrs. Ruby Rollins, holder of a beer and wine license for Slim’s Place, Providence Forge, lost her permit because her husband took a chance on violating the ABC board’s regulation forbidding the Sunday sale of alcoholic beverages.

 This was the first case to reach the control board since the lid was clamped down on Sunday brew sales on February 28.

 At the same time nine other places lost their licenses for violating the ABC law. It was reported that Sunday’s Place in Port Richmond was one of the victims.

 In the case of Mrs. Rollins in New Kent, Inspector Crenshaw, of West Point, who is in charge of the operation of the board’s ban, Mr. Rollins not only sold beer in his place but drank some himself after refusing to permit inspection of his establishment. The board’s regulation forbids both the selling and drinking of brew on the premises of a licensee. Neither Mr. or Mrs. Rollins were at the hearing on Tuesday.

 In the meantime local beer drinkers are becoming accustomed to the new law and are forgetting beer on Sunday. Few have purchased beer on Saturday and drunkedness on the streets and highways is seldom seen. 

-Tidewater Review,  25 March 1937

The Virginia ABC Board ruled in February 1937 that the sale of beer and wine was prohibited on Sundays.

"the new rule sets forth that beer and wine licensees 'shall refrain from making any sale Or delivery of wine, beer or beverages between the hours of 12:01 a. m. on Sunday and 5 a. m. on Monday.

'Nor shall any person Permit the consumption of any wine, beer or beverages upon the premises to which any such license has been granted be tween the hours of 12:01 a. m. on Sunday and 5 a. m- on Monday.

 'This regulation shall become effective at 12:01 a. m., February 28, 1937. The officials of the board pointed out that the regulation applies to 3.2 as well as high-test beer."

Recollections of Two Houses Pt. 2

  The continuation of John Estan Cooke's recollections of the Roslyn and White House estates. Today the White House.

This was McClellan's great depot of stores on the Pamunkey, which he had abandoned when deciding upon the James river line of retreat-“change of base,” if you prefer the phrase, reader --and to the White House General Stuart had hurried to prevent if possible the destruction of the stores. He was too late. The officer in charge of the great depot had applied the torch to all, and retreated; and when the cavalry arrived, nothing was visible but a black-hulled gunboat which slunk away down the stream, chased by the shots of the Horse Artillery under Pelham. Behind them they left fire and destruction; a scene in which a species of barbaric and disgusting splendour seemed to culminate. 

Strange moment for my first visit to the White House! to a spot which I had seen often in fancy, but never before with the mortal eye. For this place was one of those historic localities where the forms and voices of the “mighty men of old” appeared still to linger. Here young Colonel Washington, after that bloody march of Braddock, had paused on his journey to Williamsburg to accept the hospitalities of John Parke Custis. Here he had spent hour after hour conversing with the fair young widow who was to become Mrs. Washington, while his astonished body-servant held the bridle for him to mount; here he had been married; here were spent many happy days of a great life — a century at least before the spot saluted my gaze! 

In this old locality some of the noblest and fairest forms that  eye ever beheld had lived their lives in the dead years. Here gay voices had echoed, bright eyes had shone; here a sort of masquerade of ruffles and silk stockings, furbelows and flounces, and lace and embroidery, and powder and diamonds, was played still in the eyes of fancy! The White House had been to the present writer an honest old Virginia mansion of colonial days, full of warm hearts, and kindness and hospitality, where bright eyes outshone “the gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls;” where the winding river flowed amid blooming fields, beneath lofty trees, and the suns of earlier years shone down on Washington and his bride. 

Again, as at the White House-quantum mutatus ab illo! *

Let me outline the objects that met my view as I galloped up the avenue, between the great trees which had seen pass beneath them the chariots of other generations. The house, like Roslyn, was a ruin still smouldering. No traces of it were left but overthrown walls, bricks calcined and shattered, and charred timbers still sending up lurid smoke. The grounds were the picture of desolation; the flower-beds, once carefully tended by fair hands, had been trampled beneath the feet of Federal soldiery; the trees were twisted or champed by the cavalry horses; and the fences had been long since torn up and burned. The mansion was gone; it had passed like a dream away. The earth upon which the feet of Washington had trodden so often was a waste; the house which stood upon the site of that former one in which he was married, had been swept away by the hot breath of war. 

On each side of the avenue were the beds of an extensive field hospital. The enemy had carried off the large “hospital tents;” but the long rows of excellent beds, carefully protected from the damp of the earth by plank floors, had not been removed. Here were the general headquarters of disease; the camp of the sick, the dying, and the dead. The arrangements were admirable. The alleys between the tents were wide; the beds of the best quality, with ornamental coverlids, brought probably by friends; and everywhere lay about, in admired disorder, books, pamphlets, magazines, journals, with which the sick had doubtless  wiled away the tedious hours. Many Bibles and Testaments were lying on the ground; and Harper's “Monthly” and “Weekly” were seen in great numbers, their open pages exhibiting terrific engravings of the destruction of rebels, and the triumph of their “faction.” Here were newspapers fixing exactly the date of General McClellan's entrance into Richmond; with leading editorials so horrible in their threatenings, that the writers must have composed them in the most comfortable sanctums, far away from the brutal and disturbing clash of arms. For the rest, there was a chaos of vials, medicines, boxes, half-burnt lemons; and hundreds of empty bottles, bearing the labels, “Chateau Margot,” “Lafitte,” “Clicquot,” “Bordeaux,” and many others the very sight of which spoils of M. S. nearly drove the hungry and thirsty Confederates to madness! 

It was a sombre and frightful spot. Infection and contagion seemed to dwell there — for who could tell what diseases had afflicted the occupants of these beds? No article was touched by the troops; fine coloured blankets, variegated shirts, ornamental caps, and handkerchiefs, and shawls, remained undisturbed. One object, however, tempted me; and, dismounting, I picked it up. It was a little black lace veil, lying upon one of the beds, and evidently had belonged to a woman. I looked at it, musing, and asking myself whether it had belonged to wife, sister, or daughter-and I pitied her. This girl or woman, I thought, had probably no hatred in her heart towards us; if she had been consulted, there would have been no war; her child, or her husband, or her brother, would have stayed at home with her, leaving his “Southern brethren” in peace. Women are best after all; and, doubtless, they of the North would even yet end this “cruel war” if they could; would shatter the sword, break the musket to pieces, and sink the rifled cannon a thousand fathoms deep in the waters of the Atlantic! If the women of the North could have their way, I think they would call to those who remain alive to return to them,--would heal their broken hearts, and joyfully bid the “erring sisters” go in peace-furling the battle-flag for ever. This daughter, or sister, or wife, may have been one of these angels; perhaps she did not see that she had dropped her lace veil-she was crying, poor thing! 

A curious subject for reverie — a lace veil picked up in an enemy's camp; but such are the vagaries of the human mind. It seemed strange to me there,--that delicate woman's veil, in the Plague City, on the hot arena of war. 

Passing the hospital and the ruined mansion, I hastened to the locality of the camp; and here the whole wild scene burst on the eye. I cannot describe it. Stench, glare, insufferable heat, and dense, foul, lurid smoke — there was the “general impression.” A city had been laid out here, and this was now in flames. Jews, peddlers, hucksters, and army followers of every description, had thronged here; had worked like beavers, hammering up long rows of “shanties” and sutlers' shops; had covered the plain with a cloud of tents; and every steamer from New York had brought something to spread upon the improvised counters of the rising city. Moses and Levi and Abraham had rushed in with their highly superior stock of goods, going off at an enormous sacrifice; Jonathan and Slick had supplied the best quality of wooden hams and nutmegs; Dauerflinger and Sauerkraut had brought the best malt liquors and lager, with brandy and whiskey and gin under the rose. In a few weeks a metropolis of sutlerdom had thus sprung up like a mushroom; and a whole host of peddlers and hucksters had scratched and burrowed, and made themselves nests like Norway rats;--the very place smelled of them. 

The rats had thus gone far in building their capital of Ratdom; but those cruel terriers, the Confederates, had discovered them, given chase, and scattered them to the four winds, to return no more! Their own friends struck them the heaviest blow. The officer commanding at the White House had promptly obeyed the orders sent him, and the nascent city was set fire to without mercy. When the Confederates arrived, the long rows of sutlers' stores, the sheds on the wharf, the great piles of army-stores, the surplus guns, pistols, sabres, and the engine on the railroad, were wrapt in roaring flames. From this great pile of fire rose a black and suffocating smoke, drifting far away across the smiling landscape of June. Destruction, like some Spirit of Evil, sat enthroned on the spot, and his red bloodshot eye seemed to glare through the lurid cloud. 

The heat was frightful, but I rode on into the midst of the disgusting or comic scenes-advancing over the ashes of the main bulk of the stores which had been burned before our arrival. In this great chaos were the remnants of all imaginable things which a great army needs for its comfort or luxury in the field. Barrels of pork and flour; huge masses of fresh beef; boxes of hard bread and cakes; hogsheads of sugar and molasses; bags of coffee and beans, and all conceivable “army stores” --had been piled up here in a great mass nearly a quarter of a mile long, and set on fire in many places. The remains of the stores were still burning, and emitted a most disgusting odour; next came the row of sutlers' shops, among which the advance guard of the cavalry had scattered themselves in search of edibles. These were found in profusion, from barrels of excellent hams, and crackers and cakes, to the luxuries so costly in the Confederate capital, of candy and comfits, lemons and oranges, bottles of Jamaica ginger, and preserved fruits. There was no little interest in a walk through that debris of sutlerdom. You knocked in the head of a barrel, entirely ignorant whether hard bread or candy, pork or preserved strawberries, would greet your curious eyes. The box which you dashed to pieces with an axe might contain fine shoes and elastic socks, or excellent combs and hair-brushes, or snowy shirt bosoms and delicate paper collars, penknives, pickles, portmonnales¹, or perfumes. All these things were found, of the last New York fashion, abandoned by the sutler rats, no doubt with inexpressible anguish. The men helped themselves freely to everything which they took a fancy to, and reveled for that day in a plenty which repaid them for all their hardships. 

One amusing example of the wholesale destruction was furnished by the barrels of fresh eggs set on fire. But they were only half burned. The salt in which they had been packed resisted the fire; and the result was that the eggs were only roasted. They could not have been prepared more excellently for the visitors; and every taste was gratified. Some were charred and roasted hard, others less than the first, others again were only heated through. You could take your choice without difficulty; nothing more was necessary than to take them from their beds of salt; and a pinch of that salt, which was excellent, made them palatable. Crackers were at hand; jars of preserved fruits of all descriptions. There were strawberries and figs and dates for dessert; and whole boxes of tobacco, if you wished to smoke after your meal. The greatest luxury of all was iced lemonade. The day was terribly hot, and the men, like their horses, were panting with the combined heat of the weather and the great conflagration. Under such circumstances, the reader may understand that it was far from unpleasant to discover a cool spring beneath the bank; to take water and ice and lemons and Jamaica ginger, and make a drink for the gods! 

Of this pandemonium of strange sights and sounds and smells --of comic or tragic, amusing or disgusting details — I shall mention but one other subject; one, however, which excited in me, I remember, at the time a very curious interest. This was a tent filled with coffins, and a dead body ready embalmed for transportation to the North. In front of the tent stood an oblong pine box, and in this box was a coffin, so richly ornamented that it attracted the attention of all who approached. It was apparently of rosewood, with massive silver handles, curiously carved or moulded, and the interior was lined with rich white satin, with a fringed pillow, covered with the same material to sustain the head of the corpse. Above the tents occupied by this mortuary artist, was a long strip of canvas stretched between two upright poles, and this bore the inscription in large black letters:

    Embalming the dead!
    New American process.
    by order of the Secretary of war *

This strange locality, as I and my comrades approached it, “gave us pause.” All these paraphernalia of this grave struck us with profound astonishment, and the force of novelty. Our poor Confederate dead we buried in pine boxes, or in none; often a long trench received them, wrapped only in their old tattered uniforms or threadbare blankets; and lo! here was quite another mode of preparing men for their last rest; quite a superiour conveyance for them, in which they might make their journey to the other world! That rich and glossy rosewood; that soft fringed pillow; those silver handles, and the opening in the lid, where through fine plate-glass the face of the corpse might be seen!--strange flattery of the dead — the dead who was no longer to crumble to dust, and go the way of humanity, but was to be embalmed by the new American process, in accordance with the “order” of the Secretary of War! In the streets of a city that spectacle would, no doubt, have appeared quite commonplace and unsuggestive; but here, amid the insufferable heat, the strangling smoke, and the horrible stench, that dead body, the coffin, and the embalmers' whole surroundings, had in them I know not what of the repulsive and disgusting. Here the hideous scene had reached its climax-Death reigned by the side of Destruction. 

Such was the scene at the White House on that June day of 1862; in this black cloud went down the star of the enemy's greatest soldier, McClellan. A great triumph for the Confederates followed that furious clash of arms on the Chickahominy; but alas! when the smoke rolled away, the whole extent of the waste and desolation which had come upon the land was revealed; where peace, and joy, and plenty had once been, all was now ruin. The enemy were lighted on their way, as they retreated through the marshes of Charles City, by the burning houses to which they had applied the torch. 

Of two of these houses I have spoken, because they chanced to attract my attention; and I have tried to convey the emotions which the spectacle excited. It was useless and barbarous to burn these private dwelling-houses; the wanton indulgence of spite and hatred on the part of a defeated enemy, who destroys in order to destroy. But let that pass.

Since that time I have never revisited Roslyn or the White House.

- Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War.
John Esten Cooke
New York: E. B. Treat & Co., 654 Broadway
1867

¹ - wallets . . . I think

* An interesting article here on the rise of embalming during the Civil War.

Recollections of Two Houses Pt. 1

 

From the book, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War by John Esten Cooke. His sister Sarah (Sal) Dandridge Duval lived at Orapax in far western New Kent adjacent to Roslyn with her husband, Robert Randolph Duval.

Roslyn and the White house: before and after.

“Quantum mutatus ab illo!¹” That is an exclamation which rises to the lips of many persons on many occasions in time of war. 

In 1860, there stood on the left bank of the Chickahominy, in the county of New Kent, an honest old mansion, with which the writer of this page was intimately acquainted. Houses take the character of those who build them, and this one was Virginian, and un-“citified.” In place of flues to warm the apartments, there were big fires of logs. In place of gas to light the nights, candles, or the old-fashioned “astral” lamps. On the white walls there were no highly coloured landscape paintings, but a number of family portraits. There was about the old mansion a cheerful and attractive air of home and welcome, and in the great fireplaces had crackled the yule clogs of many merry Christmases. The stables were large enough to accommodate the horses of half a hundred guests. The old garden contained a mint patch which had supplied that plant for the morning juleps of many generations. Here a number of worthy old planters had evidently lived their lives, and passed away, never dreaming that the torch of war would flame in their borders. 

The drawing-room was the most cheerful of apartments; and the walls were nearly covered with portraits. From the bright or faded canvas looked down beautiful dames, with waists just beneath their arms, great piles of curls, and long lace veils; and  fronting these were gentlemen with queer blue coats, brass buttons, snowy ruffles, hair brushed back, and English side-whiskers. The child in the oval frame above the mantel-piece-with the golden curls, and the little hand on the head of her pet dog could look at her father and mother, grandfather, grandmother, and great-grandmother, almost without turning her head. Four generations looked down from the walls of the old mansion; about it was an indefinable but pervading air of home. 

Of the happy faces which lit up this honest old mansion when I saw it first, I need not speak. Let me give a few words, however, to a young man who was often there-one of my friends. He was then in the bloom of youth, and enjoyed the spring-days of his life. Under the tall old trees, in the bright parlour full of sunshine, or beneath the shadow of the pine-wood near, he mused, and dreamed, and passed the idle hours of his “early prime.” He was there at Roslyn in the sweetest season of the year; in spring, when the grass was green, and the peach-blossom red, and the bloom of the apple-tree as white as the driven snow; in summer, “when the days were long” and all the sky a magical domain of piled — up clouds upon a sea of blue; and in the autumn, when the airs were dreamy and memorial — the woods a spectacle from faery-land, with their purple, gold, and orange, fading slow. Amid these old familiar scenes, the youth I write of wandered and enjoyed himself. War had not come with its harsh experiences and hard realities-its sobs and sighs, its anxieties and hatreds-its desolated homes, and vacant chairs, and broken hearts. Peace and youth made every object bright; and wandering beneath the pines, dreaming his dreams, the young man passed many sunny hours, and passed them, I think, rationally. His reveries brought him no money, but they were innocent. He had “never a penny to spare,” but was rich in fancy; few sublunary funds, but a heavy balance to his credit in the Bank of Cloudland; no house to call his own, but a number of fine chateaux, where he entered as a welcome guest, nay, as their lord! Those brave chateaux stood in a country unsurpassed, and those who have lived there say no air is purer, no sky more bright. War does not come there, nor the hum of trade; grief  and care fly away; sorrow is unknown; the doors of these old chateaux are closed against all that carries that most terrible of maladies, the Heartache. 

They were Chateaux en Espagne², you will say, good reader; and truly they were built in that fine land. Do you know a better? I do not. 

Many years have passed since the youth I speak of wandered amid these happy scenes; but I know that the dead years rise like phantoms often before his eyes, and hover vague and fitful above the waves of that oblivion which cannot submerge them. While memory lives they will be traced upon her tablets, deeper and more durable than records cut on “monumental alabaster.” The rose, the violet, and the hyacinth have passed, but their magical odour is still floating in the air — not a tint of the sky, a murmur of the pines, or a song of the birds heard long ago, but lives for ever in his memory! 

But I wander from my subject, which is Roslyn “before and after.” The reader has had a glimpse of the old house as it appeared in the past; where is it, and what is it now? 

That question will be answered by a description of my last visit to the well-known locality. It was a day or two after the battle of Cold Harbour, and I was going with a few companions toward the White House, whither the cavalry had preceded us. I thought I knew the road; I was sure of being upon it; but I did not recognise a single locality. War had reversed the whole physiognomy of the country. The traces of huge camps were visible on the once smiling fields; the pretty winding road, once so smooth, was all furrowed into ruts and mud-holes; the trees were hewn down; the wayside houses dismantled; the hot breath of war had passed over the smiling land and blasted it, effacing all its beauty. With that beauty, every landmark had also disappeared. I travelled over the worn-out road, my horse stumbling and plunging. Never had I before visited, I could have made oath, this portion of Virginia! 

All at once we came — I and the “merry comrades” who accompanied me — in sight of a great waste, desolate-looking field, of a clump of towering trees, and a mansion which the retreating enemy had just burned to the ground. There were no fences around this field; the roads were obliterated, deep ruts marking where army wagons had chosen the more level ground of the meadow, or had “doubled” in retiring; no landmarks were distinguishable. I recognised nothing-and yet something familiar in the appearance of the landscape struck me, and all at once the thought flashed on me, “I know this place! I know those peach trees by the garden-fence! the lawn, the stables, the great elms! --this is Roslyn!” 

It was truly Roslyn, or rather the ghost of it. What a spectacle. The fair fields were trodden to a quagmire; the fences had been swept away; of the good old mansion, once the abode of joy and laughter, of home comfort and hospitality, there remained only a pile of smoking bricks, and two lugubrious, melancholy chimneys which towered aloft like phantoms! 

I heard afterwards the house's history. First, it had been taken as the headquarters of one of the Federal generals; then it was used as a hospital. Why it was burned I know not; whether to destroy, in accordance with McClellan's order, all medical and other stores which could not be removed, or from wanton barbarity, it is impossible to say. I only know that it was entirely destroyed, and that when I arrived, the old spot was the picture of desolation. Some hospital tents still stood in the yard with their comfortable beds; and many articles of value were scattered about-among others, an exquisitely mounted pistol, all silver and gilding, which a boy had picked up and wished me to purchase. I did not look at him, and scarcely saw the idle loungers of the vicinity who strolled about with apathetic faces. It was the past and present of Roslyn that occupied my mind he recollection of the bright scenes of other years, set suddenly and brutally against this dark picture of ruin. There were the tall old trees, under which I used to wander; there was the wicker seat where I passed so many tranquil hours of reverie in the long, still afternoons, when the sun sank slowly to the western woods; there was the sandy road; the dim old pinewood; the flower-garden-every object which surrounded me in the glad hours of youth-but Roslyn itself, the sunny old mansion, where the weeks and months had passed so joyously, where was Roslyn? That smouldering heap of debris, and those towering, ghost-like chimneys, replied. From the shattered elms, and the trodden flowers, the genius of the place seemed to look out, sombre and hopeless. From the pine-trees reaching out yearning arms toward the ruin, seemed to come a murmur, “Roslyn! Roslyn!” 

In war you have little time for musing. Duty calls, and the blast of the bugle jars upon the reveries of the dreamer, summoning him again to action. I had no time to dream over the faded glories, the dead splendour of Roslyn; those “merry comrades” whereof I spoke called to me, as did the friends of the melancholy hero visitor to Locksley Hall³, and I was soon enroute again for the White House. 

¹ - "How changed it is from what it was."- Virgil

² -  a castle in Spain i.e. something improbable

³ -  Locksley Hall, the childhood home of the narrator of the Tennyson poem of the same name.

His Excellency the General on Memorial Day

 

Washington's Tomb from a 1907 postcard

The New Tomb of General George Washington, called such because his body was moved to this new structure in 1831 due to the deteriorating conditions of the original family vault. 

The original tomb circa 1818

The new marble sarcophagus was finished in 1837 and was produced by Joseph Struthers of Philadelphia. The General lies in the tomb with his wife and 23 other family members.

The General died December 14  1799 after suffering an acute throat infection and was laid to rest. Some details of the preparations from his personal secretary Tobias Lear. (Of local interest, Lear was briefly married to Fanny Bassett, daughter of Burwell Bassett I of Eltham.)

Tuesday – Decr. 17.

           Every preparation for the mournful ceremony was making. – Mr. Diggs came here in the forenoon, and also – Mr. Stewart Adjutant to the Alexa. Regt. to view the ground for the procession. – About one o’clk the Coffin was brought from Alexa. in a stage. – Mr. Ingle the Cabinit maker, and Mr. McMunn, the plumber came with it, also Mrs Grater, with the shroud. – The body was placed laid in the Coffin, at which time I cut off some of the General’s hair & gave for Mrs. Washington. –

The Mahogany Coffin was lined with lead, soddered at the joints – and a cover of lead to be soddered on after the body should be in the Vault. – The whole put into a case lined & covered with black cloth. –

You can take a virtual tour of the vault site here.

And from 2023 here. 

The Tomb of Washington- Mount Vernon

A digression.

Did you know that George Washington is still holds the highest rank of any member of the United States Armed Forces? This is thanks to a resolution of Congress passed during the nation's Bicentennial, the purpose of which was to give Washington the rank that had originally been created for him but through a quirk of history had never been  bestowed.

Joint Resolution

to provide for the appointment of George Washington to the grade of General of the Armies of the United States.

Whereas Lieutenant General George Washington of Virginia commanded our armies throughout and to the successful termination of our Revolutionary War;

Whereas Lieutenant General George Washington presided over the convention that formulated our Constitution;

Whereas Lieutenant General George Washington twice served as President of the United States of America; and

Whereas it is considered fitting and proper that no officer of the United States Army should outrank Lieutenant General George Washington on the Army list: Now, therefore, be it George Washington. General of the Armies of the United States, posthumous appointment.

Effective date.Resolved by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled, That (a) for purposes of subsection (b) of this section only, the grade of General of the Armies of the United States is established, such grade to have rank and precedence over all other grades of the Army, past or present.

(b) The President is authorized and requested to appoint George Washington posthumously to the grade of General of the Armies of the United States, such appointment to take effect on July 4, 1976.

Approved October 11, 1976.

100 Years Ago

          Virginia Highways Gradually Being Whipped Into Shape by State Department.

 . . .

The Coast-to-Capital highway, or Route 9, has its origin at the Hampton Creek bridge, near Old Point Comfort. From there to Lee Hall the highway is of concrete. From Lee Hall through Williamsburg and Toano to Diascund Creek is under construction and will be concrete surfaced. Bids will be opened on June 7 for the construction at eleven miles of concrete highway from Diascund creek to Providence Forge.

 A survey has been completed and plant have been prepared for a gravel read from Providence Forge to Bottoms Bridge, a distance of 10.8 miles. From Bottoms Bridge to Richmond has been surveyed and plans have been prepared for the early completion of the road from Richmond to Seven Pines. That leaves four miles not taken care of.

 . . .

-News Leader, 30 May 1923

                            

              POSTMASTER AT QUINTON CHARGED WITH EMBEZZLING

J. H. Johnson, postmaster at Quinton, New Kent county, was arrested by federal agents today, charged with embezzlement of government funds, the authorities alleging that they have found a shortage of his accounts. He was given a hearing before United States Commissioner Melvin Flegenheimer, but waived examination, and was sent on to the October term of the grand jury. Bond was fixed at $2,500.

 Johnson was arrested at Quinton Deputy Marshal Grant on a warrent sworn out by Inspector B. B. Webb of this city. Inspector Webb stated today that he knew nothing of alleged shortage in the accounts of office until he made an examination last Monday.

 The accused postmaster was placed in his position by Miss Myrtle Anderson Bailey, of Quinton, wife W. R. Bailey. Mr Webb said that appointment is a temporary one, that the selection of a permanent a successor to Mr. Johnson will probably be held in the next few weeks.

-News Leader, 21 April 1923

                    QUINTON POSTMASTER ENTERS GUILTY PLEA 

J. H. Johnson, former postmaster at, Quinton, New Kent county, who was arrested some months ago on a charge of embezzling government, funds to the amount of $2,335.27, pled guilty today In the United States district court. Sentence will be pronounced this afternoon by Judge D. Lawrence Groner.

-News Leader, 14 December 1923

     SENTENCED TO 7 MONTHS. 

J. H. Johnson, formerly postmaster, at Quinton, New Kent County, who pled guilty in United States district court yesterday to charges of embezzling government funds to the amount of $2,385 was sentenced to seven months in the city Jail by Judge D. Lawrence Groner. Johnson has already begun serving his term. 

-News Leader, 15 December 1923

Dr. George Thomas Potts 1835 - 1934

 

Dr. Potts, 98, Former Dinwiddian, Dies 

Dr. George Potts, 98 years old and well known in Dinwiddie country, where he lived for many years, died Monday at his home in Providence Forge.

 Dr. Potts was a native of England and was educated there as a veterinary surgeon. He came to this country in 1867 and traveled about lecturing on horses. In 1880 he settled in Dinwiddie county and spent the rest of his life in Virginia. His first wife died a number of years ago and he later married Miss Leonora Scammell of Petersburg, who survives him as do four sons, George of Meadowville Farm, Herbert of Petersburg, E. C. of Richmond and Craighill Potts of Hopewell and two daughter, Miss Pierce of Providence Forge and Miss Christian of Raleigh, N. C.

 One of Dr. Potts’ chief interests was in the Masonic lodge. He became a member of Astrea Lodge No. 85, at Sussex C. H., in 1881 and has missed only one meeting of the Grand Lodge since that time and that was last year on account of illness. He was also a member of Petersburg Lodge No. 15 and had served as Master. 

-Southside Virginia News,  19 July 1934

“I Have Given the Best Part of My Life to Masonry” - 1923

 

Dr. George Potts in 1923

        DR. GEORGE POTTS, KNOWN AS “FATHER OF MASONIC HOME” - HAS BEN MASON FIFTY-FIVE YEARS

Dr. George Potts Says Masonry Greatest Institution Except Church

 

  "I have given the best part of my life to Masonry, and I consider the Masonic order the greatest institution in the world with the exception of the church," says Dr. George Potts, of Providence Forge, Va., who is here attending his fiftieth consecutive grand annual communication of the Grand Lodge of Virginia.

 Dr. Potts is known as “the father of the Masonic Home of Virginia,” having offered the resolution in 1890 to have a committee appointed to draft a charter for the home. He has made an address before the Grand Lodge every year for the past thirty-three, and is the best-known member of the order in the state.

 When asked his age, Dr. Potts would say only that he is "seventy-five plus," this secret never paving been revealed even to his family, he said. He is a veterinary surgeon, and is the oldest of his profession in the state. He was born in England, and came to this country in 1867. He states that he has not a single relative in this country. 

-News Leader, 15 February 1923

"I Feel Confident I Can Give Satisfaction to All" - 1912

 

newspaper advertisement from July 11, 1912

 George Thomas Potts was born 1836 in England, in the county of Kent to be exact. He immigrated in 1867 to the United States living first in the Southside. He married Lenora Scammel in  Petersburg in 1886. In the 1890s he bought the large Meadowville farm in the Bermuda area of Chesterfield near Dutch Gap where he became known as a great entertainer of hunters and outdoorsmen.

In January of 1912, after selling Meadowville the previous year, he bought Providence Hall in Providence Forge and opened a veterinary practice on the upper Peninsula. 

Providence Hall was the historic colonial house in "downtown" Providence Forge  . . . until it was taken apart and moved to Colonial Williamsburg to make way for the new enlarged Rt. 60 in the late 1940s.

Providence Hall in the 1930s

An Action at Forge Bridge - With Stuart's Cavalry

The "Gallant" Pelham- 23 at the time of the action below

This reconnoiter of New Kent would have taken place at the beginning of July 1862 some two weeks after Stuarts famous ride around the Union lines.

 

 Leaving the Cold Harbor field that morning, our regiment marched in advance of General Ewell's troops towards Dispatch Station, and on the way found two field pieces of Tidball's Battery, which had been abandoned on their retreat. Soon we separated from the infantry, they inclining towards James River and we directing our course to the White House, on the Pamunkey. Some skirmishing occurred as we approached the latter place. Captain Pelham did some cannonading. Very soon the smoke of burning buildings and army supplies gave signs that the Federal troops there were abandoning the place. We approached cautiously for a time (a gunboat still remaining to guard the place), and then took eager possession. We found our colonel's (W. H. F. Lee's) house was a bed of red hot embers. A number of adjacent houses were still hot and smoking from the torches that had been applied.

The mass of commissary, quarter-master, medical, and sutler's supplies not yet burned was enormous. Army wagons had been backed over the river bank until they formed an island, the wagon tongues in great numbers protruding out of the water. Muskets and carbines had been cast into the river until one could stand on them dry shod above the current, so large was the pile.

A hospital of new white tents occupied a large part of one of the fields of the plantation, arranged in orderly rows, and furnished with cots, and every necessary facility and utensil for the care and comfort of the wounded of a great battle. As I moved among them, the thought could not be suppressed of how sadly the thousands of McClellan's bleeding men on the Chickahominy needed the hospital, and how utterly useless it had proved to them.

Having observed some locomotives and cars standing on the tracks, I examined them to see if the cars were there which had run the gauntlet of our fire at Tunstall's Station two weeks previously, during the raid made by Stuart. They were soon found, and the bullet marks on them bore witness to the severity of the fire through which they had passed.

Our physical wants were abundantly supplied here, and the next day we moved back towards the Chickahominy, and halted on the wooded hills above Forge Bridge. A body of Federal infantry and a section of artillery held positions near this bridge. The hill beyond was elevated and unobstructed by timber. Some delay and reconnoitering resulted from seeing the enemy here. Suddenly, as we were watching from our sheltered position, Pelham dashed forward, with two guns, down the incline and across the plain, and taking position near the river, opened on the guns on the hilltop. He had already received their fire. The duel became rapid and exciting. It was quickly apparent that Pelham's guns were aimed with fatal effects. At each discharge of them a man, or a horse, was seen to fall or flee.  

In a few minutes after the firing began, the Federal guns were in full retreat. As they dashed along the road in the distance, we saw the branches of the cedars falling about them, cut down by Pelham's parting shots.  

As illustrative of the exaggeration and unreliability which often marked reports of engagements sent in from the field, that of Lieutenant Val. H. Stone, commanding the Federal guns on this occasion at Forge Bridge, is a striking example. He reported: "June 30, 11 A.M., the rebels appeared on the opposite side. At 1 P.M. they opened fire with eight guns. I was under fire the greater portion of the time until 6 P.M. For two hours of the time, I had their guns completely silenced. . . . My riding horse was killed with a shell. No men killed in my command. One of the cavalry killed. Considerable loss on the enemy's side.''  

It is quite likely that other participants in this affair on the Union side gave a different version of it, since the officer, Major Robert M. West, to whom the above quoted report was addressed, indorsed on it: "This young officer, with new horses and men that had never been tried, performed exceedingly well, considering." To those of us on the opposite side it seemed that the only performance in which he acted "exceedingly well" was the rapidity of his flight.  

No attempt was made by us that evening to cross the abandoned bridge, but about dark I was sent along with our squadron to ascertain the position of the enemy in the direction of New Kent Courthouse. It fell to my lot to ride with another man in advance, and it was an exciting ride, not knowing at what moment a watchful enemy might salute us with a volley. We had come within one or two hundred yards of the court house, when, discerning an object in a ditch by the road side, my comrade said in a low tone: "It's a cow," whereupon the Yankee picket spurred his horse from the ditch, and too much startled to fire a shot, disappeared at a gallop in the darkness. We turned back to report the circumstance, when the officer commanding us, having heard a bustle, as of troops mounting, in the direction of the enemy faced about, and hastened back at a trot.  

My position became then in the rear, and before going far, from carelessness in sitting properly in my saddle it turned on the horse's back precipitating me to the ground. The column moved on rapidly, no one in the line being conscious of the accident. I was left alone in the road with my saddle loosely strapped to the horse's belly instead of his back.  

Hearing that the enemy was in pursuit, and might dash up on me in a moment, I led my impatinet(sic) and restless horse (neighing lustily for the others of the command) down into the woods and fastened him to a limb, and then proceeded to adjust the saddle while he pawed and pranced. I succeeded in saddling and mounting him with intense satisfaction, and on getting back into the road, gave him the rein. He followed the track of the other horses and before long caught up with them.  

It was daybreak when we reached our regiment, and by the time our horses could eat we were in motion for Bottom's Bridge, twelve miles higher up the river. From some over sanguine source we were informed that we were marching to witness the surrender of McClellan's army — information which, however groundless, made us forgetful of fatigue and the last night's sleeplessness.  

On reaching the above-named bridge with slight delay, our column was turned about and somewhat impatiently and wearily we marched back to the point we had left in the morning. We were not halted here, but passed over the Forge Bridge, and on the hill beyond saw a dead horse, and under the cedars farther on two freshly made graves — silent witnesses of Pelham's death- dealing shots seen by us the day previous. Our march was towards Malvern Hill, near which place we halted for the night. Having ridden fifty miles or more, I tied my horse to a fence and gave him his frugal meal, and then threw myself down, sleepy and almost exhausted, in a shallow ditch by the fence side, and was soon in the deepest unconsciousness. The rain fell during the night in a heavy downpour, but I knew it not. When I awoke next morning, water stood around me, and as I raised my body up out of it, I could hear the noise of suction such as a log makes when lifted up out of soft mud. 

- A Lieutenant of Cavalry in Lee's Army by G. W. Beale

George William Beale (1842-1921) of the Northern Neck was the son of Congressman Richard L. T. Beale. Later in life a Baptist minister he was the father of Richard Lee Beale who was Commonwealth's Attorney for Caroline County early in the 20th Century

The Pelham referenced is the famous, "Gallant Pelham,"(picture above) boy officer of the artillery of the Army of Northern Virginia. Pelham was killed in action in 1863 at the age of 24.

The Lee Will Dispute and White House - 1926

 Some background on the ownership history of the White House estate.

SUIT OVER LEE WILL IS DECIDED

Litigation Split One of First Families in Virginia and Involved Famous Estates.  

 The contest over the will of Gen. W. H. Fitshugh (“Rooney”) of which split one of the first families in Virginia and involved some the most famous estates in the Old Dominion, has been decided to favor of the “outsider," as she was termed, a Mrs. Mary Middleton Lee, the widow of Colonel Robert E. Lee Jr., of the historic Middleton family, of South Carolina- now living in Washington, has won her suit against her brother-in-law, Dr. Geo. Bolling Lee, of New York City, and Newport, R.I., whereby she gets a life interest in half of the Lee estate, valued at $1,500,000 and including business property in the heart of Richmond, leased to Thalhimer Bros., Inc., at $40,000 a year for 50 years.

 The decision Was announced May 18th by Judge Samuel Brent, of the circuit court of Fairfax, county, at Alexandria. Dr. Lee will carry the case to the Virginia Court of Appeals.  

 The suit was over the interpretation of a peculiar clause in the Will of General W. H. F. Lee, son of the Confederate general and father of Colonel Robert E. Lee, Jr., and Dr. George Bolling Lee. The Broad Street property in Richmond, inherited from this first wife, Miss Wickham, the Lee ancestral estate, “Ravensworth,” in Fairfax county; the "White House” estate, where George Washington married Mary Custis and all other property were willed by the general to his second wife, Mary Tabb Lee, for use during her life, at her death to be divided between, her two sons, George Bolling and “Bob” Lee, provided they or their children were alive at her death.

 “But,” continued the will, “should either of my sons die without making a will concerning this property, the same shall descend to the survivor.”

 This is the clause that caused the controversy. General “Bob” Lee died in 1922, two years before his mother, but leaving a will giving his widow a life interest in his half of the estate, it reverting to his brother at her death. Dr. George Bolling Lee, who brought suit against his sister-n-law shortly after his mother’s death in 1924, claimed that “Bob” could not get title to his half of the estate until he outlived his ‘mother, but, as he died first, he had nothing to leave his widow.

 Mrs. Lee contended that, by a proper interpretation of the disputed clause in the will off her father-in-law, her husband gained title to his interest by the act of making a will. Citations from many famous Virginia will cases were brought into court in defense of this position.

 Mary Middleton Lee was never well received by the family into which she married; at the time of her marriage to Col. Robert E. Lee, Jr. his mother, Mary Talbot Lee, announced that she would never let an “outsider” preside over a Lee estate, and forbade the young people the use of “Ravensworth.” In the two years of her widowhood before the death of Mary Tabb Lee, she signed deeds and papers jointly with her mother-in-law and brother-in-law. This fact was relied upon during the trial as an acknowledgement of the Lees that she had a right to the property.

 Immediately after the death of his mother, however, Dr. George Bolling Lee brought suit against his brother’s widow, claiming that she was an intruder and without equity in the estate. He secured injunctions keeping her from securing a share in the $40,000 Richmond lease or from entering “Ravensworth” or other parts 6f the estate.

 The decision of Judge Brent, which will be appealed, gives Mrs. Lee half of the entire W. H. F. Lee estate, a partition to be made later. This property cannot be sold, but can be leased or used in any way by her until her death, when, under the terms of her husband’s will, it all goes to George Bolling Lee.

-Virginia Star(Culpeper),  3 June 1926

Settlement of Litigation Over Estate of General W. H. F. Lee.

 R. M. Lynn, Virginia correspondent at Washington, wrote Thursday: Settlement of the litigation over ;the estate of the late General W. H. F. “Rooney” Lee outside of court has been effected, it was learned today, and deeds necessary to carry out the terms of the agreement have been prepared. A formal decree is in the hands of Judge Samuel G. Brent, of the circuit court of Fairfax county, embodying the settlement. This is expected to be entered at any time.

 Mrs. Mary M. Lee, widow of Colonel Robert E. Lee, Jr., conveys her interest in the home place, “Ravensworth,” Fairfax county; in the other historic place, “White House,” New Kent county; and in the family heirlooms. Dr. Bolling Lee in consideration of these conveyances, paid over to Mrs. Lee, his brother’s widow, the sum of $30,000.

 Mrs. Lee retains her interest in the valuable real' estate in Richmond, known as the Thalhimer property, situated at Sixth and Broad streets.

 The Lee heirlooms and the Lee country estates in Fairfax and New Kent are now the exclusive properties of Dr. Bolling Lee, “Ravensworth” has been in the family since the original grant to William Fitzhugh by Lord Culpeper in 1688. The estate known as “White House” in New Kent was owned by the widow Custis who married George Washington, and it was here that the wedding supper took place in celebration of that marriage.

 Litigation commenced in 1924, upon the death of Mrs. Mary Tabb Lee, widow of General Rooney Lee, who died in 1891.

 The mansion at “Ravensworth,” built a century and a half ago, burned at night several months ago, together with some of the furniture and furnishings. Insurance of $40,000 on house and contents covered the losses in part. Mrs. Mary M. Lee lives at her home at 1733 Riggs place, Washington, which her husband left her. She has the “Mount Vernon” silver and the “Lee” silver so long as she lives, and at her death it becomes the property of Dr. Bolling Lee, under the terms of her husband’s will.

-Rockbridge County News,  4 November 1926

General W. H. F. “Rooney” Lee inherited the White House property in 1858 at the death of his grand-father George Washington Parke Custis. After the war Rooney Lee live and farmed at the White House until inheriting Ravensworth in 1873. 

Interestingly the mansion at Ravensworth burned  a few months before this article. Chestnut Grove in New Kent, the birthplace of Martha Washington, the great-grandmother of Rooney Lee,  burned to the ground the day before the above article was published.

Dr. Bolling Lee stayed involved New Kent cultural affairs throughout his life including presiding over the dedication of the Confederate Monument on the old New Kent Courthouse lawn.