120. Pocahontas

Sunday, 21 April 2019

Williamsburg, Virginia, USA

Happy Easter.

Had another eggcellent day full of eggciting things listening to eggsperts eggsplain and eggspresing eggstraordinary eggsamples of eggsplosive battles.

No eggageration.

As you will recall from yesterday’s blog, Williamsburg was the basis for leading up to American Independence. Yorktown, a few miles away on the river, is where Independence was, in effect, finally won.

The observant amongst you will remember from yesterday, that the Declaration of Independence was signed on 4 July 1776. Yet, this didn’t actually mean independence.

This was merely a wish.

A desire.

It took the American War of Independence, over 8 years, to finally and formally achieve this desire with the Treaty of Paris in 1784.

However, it effectively came into being when the British were defeated at the Siege of Yorktown in October 1781. This was the last major battle of the American Revolution.

What we can see today is the British defences, the infamous redoubts 9 and 10, which were won by the Americans and the French, which led to the defeat of the British. The guide asks if anyone in the group is British. Just me. She says, “I thought so, I could tell.” Just how I like it.

Very interesting talk on the play of battle which I won’t bore you with.

Yorktown is much smaller than Williamsburg but still has recreated 17^th and 18^th century houses. There’s an air of Hampshire about the place. Very quaint, very relaxed and very scenic. This is about as far removed from Florida as you can get. And if you haven’t guessed by now, not too enamoured with Florida. It’s a beautiful Spring day, perfect temperature, sunny and blue sky. I could almost be in England.

House sitter texts to ask if I was expecting any Robin Hood hats, a skeleton and butterfly wings to be dropped off at my house. Someone has deposited a box of said stuff by my door.

It goes without saying that I have no need for butterfly wings…

Across the other side of the peninsula is Jamestown. This is where, on 13 May 1607, 104 men and boys landed to settle in America. The first permanent settlement by the British in America.

Staggering to think that modern America we see today originated from that one small settlement. There’s not a great deal to see and a lot is left to the imagination. Mainly used as a tobacco plantation.

The first few years were seemingly quite tough and in 1610 there was what is known as the ‘starving time’, following years of drought. Told that it got to the point that they were digging up the recently deceased to eat.

Cannibalism was necessary.

Only 60 of the 300 odd settlers survived this period.

In 1610, the Powhatan chief’s daughter, Pocahontas, married the English settler, John Rolfe, changed her name to Rebecca and they subsequently sailed to England, whereupon Pocahontas was introduced to London society as a ‘civilised savage’. She died as she sailed down the Thames on her way back to Jamestown and is buried in Gravesend, England.

Bet you didn’t know that, did you??

Over the years the British settlers had gotten along with the native American tribe, the Powhatans, and traded with them. However, in 1622, a load of Powhatans killed 347 settlers in one night, which amounted to a third of the population.

Notwithstanding all those troubles, Jamestown grew and became the capital of the colony of Virginia until 1699. Which is when Williamsburg took over.

Within the old Colonial town of Williamsburg, there are a number of 18^th century inns which continue the traditions of the 18^th century. Dinner tonight is at the 18^th century ‘Kings Arms’.

By candlelight.

The dining rooms are only lit by candlelight to mimic what it would be like in the 18^th century. Quite cozy.

With original sized napkins. About the size of a table cloth.

Staff wear traditional clothes.

Dear vegans, I can confirm that the venison, rabbit and duck game pie was excellent and washed down with an equally excellent pint of real ale. Very tasty.

Very interesting few days.