I’ve visited a large number of museums in my day and tend to be jaded…. but I have to say, the collection of sterling silver in Williamsburg impressed even me.
Some were simple.
Others elaborate.
(Goose feet! I loved it.)
Some embellished your shoes.
Cases as far as the eye could see of master craftsmanship.
The thought of polishing all these beauties left me quaking….
But honestly…
Wow.
There was a cover for your honeycomb…
A ceremonial scepter.
And countless teapots.
Morbid jewelry?
Check.
Giant turtle?
With a slightly bored husband mimicking the facial expression of the fellow over his shoulder?
Check.
There was even a piece perfect for my Name That Crap game…. although it’s far from crap.
There are two distinct collections in what used to be the lunatic asylum building… The Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Folk Art Museum and the DeWitt Wallace Decorative Arts Museum.
It’s a bit fluid when you enter…
And since it was the Christmas season I wasn’t surprised to see one of these.
Please note there’s a chicken instead of an angel on the top. I’m not sure what that means, other than there might be a secret cult of barnyard fowl practicing nearby. Which lead me to Google image search ‘religious chicken’ and then I was off….
Yes….
I’m easily distracted… but you have to admit,
This architect had a sense of humor.
And now back to your regularly scheduled program:
The story behind it was interesting.
Me like.
Though I doubt I’ll be making my own or buying the book.
And opposite the festive tree?
Implements of death….
Because nothing says holiday cheer like various ways to kill each another.
But even I have to admit they were beautiful specimens.
And if you look closely, you can see the scowling face on the bottom of the grip.
I read the DeWitt has the largest collection of southern furniture in the world…
And I believe it.
There were rows and rows of unique examples.
There were also some fabulous fashions of the day.
And yes…
Shoes!
And if that wasn’t wonderful enough… there was 300 year old fabric.
On my list of must see places was the Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Folk Art Museum. She was an early collector of the form and I’d heard tell the place was filled to the brim with treasures.
What I didn’t know was the building’s original use.
Half museum, half insane asylum.
Color me intrigued.
Well, that doesn’t look at all comfortable.
But at least there’s a cushion.
*gulp*
This certainly gives new meaning to the term “time out”.
While revolting….
I have to say the peek into early treatment of mental illness was fascinating.
Yikes.
Seems like there was a whole lot of restraint … and not much actual treatment.
It was about this time the husband told me he read about men committing their misbehaving wives for little more than disagreeing with their authority.
Uh oh.
Early shock therapy looked rather primitive.
Am I the only one who’s reading “restored” as irreparably brain damaged?
One can only imagine the horrors those poor people suffered at the hands of their supposed healers.
Though they did have some pretty snazzy syringes.
On a lighter note, the husband was tickled to see one of these on display.
He bought a whole box of these slides at a yard sale years ago. They’re pretty valuable as a few of them show pre Civil War life with slaves… but he’s never found the actual lantern for sale.
If you ever see one? Let me know….
It would make a great birthday gift and rise above his usual level of rusty crap.
The day started with biscuits and gravy for me and two plates of chipped beef on toast for the husband. The waitress thought he was kidding when he asked for a second helping… but no, he was serious.
Technically no, that’s made with hamburger.
But I digress…
Since the weather was beautiful that day we headed back over to Colonial Williamsburg to finish exploring.
First up, Bassett Hall. Home to John D. Rockefeller Jr and his wife Abby Aldrich Rockefeller. I was completely unaware that the Rockefellers were the ones responsible for the restoration of Colonial Williamsburg and the idea of opening it to the public.
For a wonderful history of how and why, watch this:
Seeing the interior of the house meant taking the tour…
And this distinguished gentleman was our guide. He was a font of knowledge as well as legally blind.
It was a lovely home.
Comfortable….
And not nearly as grand as their other residences.
They relaxed here.
Didn’t entertain socially.
And enjoyed time with family.
In their eyes it was a country home.
And hey….. there was a chicken over the mantle, so maybe it was.
I’m sure Abby didn’t spend much time in here….
But I liked the funky sinks….
And the high tech for the time fridge.
Next to the kitchen was the servants quarters…
Which didn’t look too bad either.
Done with the tour….
We began to roam the grounds….
But not before my husband managed to start a political discussion with our guide. I imagine they’re instructed not to engage…. and he remained as neutral as Switzerland. Very diplomatic.
The gardens were a bit bare since it was December.
But the shrubbery was impressive.
And who wouldn’t love a private tea house in their backyard?
How sweet is that!
We happily strolled around….
Enjoying the beautiful day…
And felt like Rockefellers.
Minus the large sums of cash and thinking hey…
That garage would make a pretty nice house in itself.
The driving tour of the Yorktown, Virginia battlefield was a strange one and meandered all over the place.
Through the woods.
And past open fields with miles of split rail fencing.
Seriously, it went on forever.
There were creeks and swamps.
And every now and then, a sign.
We saw plenty of fluffy white butts.
And they roamed at will.
We even made friends with a few.
This little beauty had no fear and sidled right up next to my window.
Up our way that would be dangerous.
But this was protected land and they knew it.
Near the end of the tour we saw something a bit odd.
A buck with a funky horn.
And while I can’t say I’ve ever had to tote a rack around (on my head anyway) this did look a little strange.
So this was December 23rd and the husband had spent the last 48 hours trying to talk me into driving down to North Carolina for Christmas Day. When we’re on a trip for the holidays? We usually let it pass without much fanfare. No exchange of gifts, maybe just a special meal. But since our daughter of the heart came to visit with us those few days… he was bound and determined we would celebrate with her this time.
While I normally would have agreed, she had a slew of family members staying the night in a one bathroom house and I didn’t want to stress her anymore than necessary. We checked a few hotels in the area but all of them were full. Husband wanted to go for the day…. but it was a 4+ hour ride down and a 4+ hour ride back. Almost 9 hours on the road is not my idea of a fun Christmas… but he wore me down. Which meant we had to spend the rest of that day (and night) shopping for gifts because I wouldn’t go empty handed.
And leave it to me to decide on the one gift that was utterly unfindable on the 23rd of December. And believe me we tried.
Because she loves wine…. but can no longer drink it because it gives her headaches.
I was going to give her the gift of wine back! Or die trying.
Which we nearly did.
We tried every single freakin’ store for 150 miles. Large malls and small gift shops. Specialty stores and wine outlets. Big chains and obscure holes in the hall. We walked, we searched, we cursed. (Okay, maybe that was just me.) We shopped until we almost dropped. Everyone had heard of it… very few carried it. And if they did carry it? They were sold out by the time we got there.
Do you know how aggravating it is to look for something for 7 hours straight and then be told by a laughing salesclerk, “Oh, we just sold the last one 10 minutes ago. You should have been quicker.” That woman is lucky she still has her tongue…. because if I could have reached the butcher knife on the other side of the counter? She’d be laughing with a bloody stump right now.
And if that isn’t bad enough?
I didn’t find the perfect gift, but I did find this:
No.
No…
Noooo!
This is wrong on so many levels … I can’t even. What twisted soul thought, “How can I take a perfectly good candy and ruin it beyond all measure? I know… I’ll add Kale!”
All over the world children are weeping. I hope you’re satisfied Archie.
At 9:30 that night the husband was screaming Uncle…. and grumbling about food. We were both too exhausted to care at that point and stopped at the first place on the way back to the resort. An Outback Steakhouse.
I’m not a lover of chain restaurants and hadn’t been to one of these in 20 years.
But $5 Boozy Cherry Limeades sounded pretty good….
And for that price? I had 3.
Their Blue Cheese Wedge salad left a lot to be desired…. and the husband’s French Onion soup was only fair.
But his filet was blood rare and he made short work of it.
My grilled filet and shrimp skewer combo was filling…. and I’ll leave it at that.
There’s a reason we’re not chain restaurant fans, and if we don’t go back for another 20 years?
We were beginning to discover a strange thing about the Historic Triangle area in Williamsburg ,Virginia…. everything is done in triplicate. National Parks, State Parks and tourist venues all cover the same history and it can be a bit confusing when choosing a place to visit. So after finishing the Revolutionary War Museum and the Yorktown re-creation, we headed to the actual Yorktown site and found a National Parks visitors center.
It had a small museum with most of the same information we had just seen… and a broken heating system which rendered the building slightly less cold than the Arctic tundra. Needless to say, we didn’t linger.
There was a ship.
A one fourth size replica of the one that sunk in the neighboring York River.
So we boarded her…
Explored… and then moved on.
To some tents.
But not just any old tents.
These were literally George Washington’s tents.
Delivered by Philadelphia upholsterer Plunket Fleeson in May 1776, Washington’s original set of campaign tents included a large dining tent — which also served as his headquarters and meeting room — and two additional tents that provided space for the general to sleep and store his baggage.
Though made of rugged worsted wool and linen, several of these tents succumbed to rough treatment during the war, requiring Washington to order replacements. Still more abuse took place after the deaths of the general and his wife, when their stepson — George Washington Parke Custis — began snipping off pieces of the historic fabric to give to guests at his celebrated outdoor parties.
Later, the tents accompanied the Marquis de Lafayette on his triumphant 1824 tour of the nation he helped create. Yet even at historic Fort McHenry, where they were reverently displayed under the original Star-Spangled Banner, the increasing fragile artifacts were handled with a recklessness that’s hard for curators to imagine today.
Greater still was the threat from Union Army pillagers who seized the Arlington estate of Custis’ heir — Mary Custis Lee — and her husband, Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee, during the Civil War. Only a word of warning from a Lee family slave named Selina Gray persuaded federal officials to seize them for safekeeping, thus saving the irreplaceable relics.
Returned in 1901, the outer elements of both the dining and sleeping tents were quickly sold; they ended up in the collections of the Smithsonian Institution and what is now the American Revolution Center at Valley Forge, Sundberg said. The Park Service acquired the dining tent ceiling and sleeping tent chamber from the Lee family in 1955, putting both on display at what was then the new Yorktown Visitor Center.
And pardon my geekdom, but I think that’s pretty damned cool!
Heck, they even had Lord Cornwallis’s table he used during the war.
But by that time we were freezing and had to go outside to warm up. Wanting to see the actual Yorktown battlefield…. we started the driving tour with directions from the park rangers.
I’m not quite sure what I was expecting.
But what I got were a bunch of humps.
Humps here.
Humps there.
Humps everywhere.
Apparently they’re called redoubts.
Cornwallis had his men construct a main line of defense around Yorktown that consisted of ten small enclosed forts (called redoubts), batteries with artillery and connecting trenches. The Americans and French marched from Williamsburg to Yorktown on September 28 and began digging a trench 800 yards from the British defense line to begin a siege. By October 9, the allies’ trench was finished and their artillery had been moved up. Firing at the British continuously, they had virtually knocked the British guns out of action by October 11. Cornwallis had the additional misfortune to learn at that time that Clinton’s departure from New York had been delayed.
During the night of October 11, the allies began a second trench 400 yards from the British. The next days were spent bringing up artillery and strengthening the new line. The new line could not be completed, however, without capturing British redoubts 9 and 10. On the night of October 14, 400 French stormed redoubt 9 and 400 Americans stormed redoubt 10, capturing them in less than 30 minutes. Nine Americans and 15 French died in this brief and heroic action.
And not be outdone, we had humps as well.
I believe there were 10 of them on the tour, but come on. Once you’ve seen a few humps?
You’ve seen them all.
Though this one had cannons, which I photographed from the top of a hump……
Before realizing you weren’t supposed to climb to the top of the humps.
The second half of the American Revolutionary War Museum in Yorktown, Virginia is the interactive outdoor exhibit re-creation.
First up…. the soldier’s encampment.
It’s one thing to read about these things and see them in your mind’s eye….. quite another when you can physically touch and experience them first hand.
See those little tents? 4-6 men slept in there….. and let me tell you, it wouldn’t have been comfortable for one.
Meals, such as they were… were cooked here.
And the fire was kept burning 24/7.
There were few doctors as we think of them today, and the surgical tent more than likely contained a barber with a bag of torture implements like these. Please note the large bottle of laudanum in the back. I’d be chugging that like iced tea, thank you very much.
Though if you were bitten by a mad dog?
They had you covered.
The General’s tent was a bit larger….
And served as his office as well.
The laundromat was a bit primitive.
Though you did get a discount if you brought your own soap.
And the entire camp was ringed with wooden spikes to repel attackers.
As well as providing excellent selfie backgrounds.
But there was so much to see and I’m not even covering an eighth of it.
Oh, stop.
A little knowledge won’t hurt you, although these might.
While I’m not a general fan of firearms…
Even I had to admit they were beautiful in the 18th century.
The silver work was lovely.
And the under sides of the butt caps really did have grimacing faces… but the lighting, the glass cases, and the reflections prevented any of my pictures from being post worthy.
Everywhere you looked you were surrounded by history.
Which is basically my nerdy idea of heaven.
When I die? I want to find out who killed JFK, how the pyramids were built and the location of ancient Troy.
And trust me, I have a lotof shoes.
Impressive, right?
There was even a tree of knowledge. If only I could spread some of it’s seeds in our nation’s capitol today…..
Naturally we had to check out the surround sound movie.
Complete with battle scene sequence smoke rolling by on the floor.
And in my experience?
There are very few museums who actively instruct you to touch their balls.
Yup.
Seriously big balls.
This now concludes the indoor museum section of our trip to Yorktown, Virginia.
River's world..... 