A History Lesson: St Luke's Church

St. Luke's Church is a National Shrine or National Historical Landmark, depending on what source you're reading from. It's not much to look at, just an old brick church with a graveyard around it, nothing terribly exciting unless, like me, you've got a significant ancestral link to it.

 My ancestors went to and lived near this church when they first came to American back in the 1600's, so I really wanted to see it. History lesson: It's the oldest standing church in America, having been established around 1632 or so. (It most likely predates that by about 10 years or so, but the original vestry books were buried in a horsehair trunk, and therefore rotted away, for years, so a conclusive date can't be established.) My ancestors were there when the church began, so of course their records there are lost in the original vestry books, but we know they were members there, and may have been involved in its administration as well. They are not buried in the surrounding graveyard, which didn't come into use til about 20 years later. They were most likely buried on their own land (the tradition at that time), which means their graves are probably lost to time and nature's encroachment. At any rate, I didn't have time on this trip to figure out precisely where their land was located, or who owns it now, or ask if there are any known graves on it. We did, however, take a tour of the church, learned about it's history and significance, and meandered around the graveyard.  There is an old gravel path along the edge of the cemetery that was part of an Indian trail route, which pre-dates the church by who knows how many years.  Despite the fact that the Indian Massacre of 1622 (a massacre by Indians, not of them) occured all around it, the church as an institution survived.  It would most likely have been a simple wooden structure at that time, however; the brick building that stands today was built sometime in the 1630's.

The inside of the church as it would have appeared in the 17th century, with the exception of the pews.  At that time, it is likely that all the pews would have had high backs, not the low ones pictures here.  Families sat together and might have had their own pew which they constructed themselves, so the pews may not have been uniform in size and structure.  The stained glass windows up front came from Germany and were originally inscribed with German words; those words were taken out and replaced with the names of men prominent to the early English settlers when the windows were installed here.  The stained glass windows on the side walls denote families of the area.  Mine is not depicted, probably because they had moved on by the point that the side windows were constructed; the original windows were plain clear diamond-shaped pieces of glass set in lead cams.

The pulpit has three tiers; in this picture you can see that the bottom one was a short step above the floor, the middle one another step above that, with a Bible on a stand, and the top had its own short staircase, which is where the preacher would stand (or the magistrate, when court was in session.) The octagonal structure above the top tier was an actual sounding board, used to reflect the speaker's voice out over the pews instead of ascending directly into the ceiling.

Another history lesson: there would have been several hourglasses set up on the pulpit, much like preachers today set their watch on it to keep track of time. The reason was completely different, however: they were there not to make sure the preacher stayed within the allotted time for the message, but to make sure he preached long enough. How long was long enough? Three to four hours. And that was just the sermon. The entire service usually lasted 6-8 hours; in other words, you spent an entire work day sitting in a hard wooden (and sometimes very hot or cold) pew with your immediate family, listening to someone proclaim hellfire and damnation. I can't even imagine sitting through that myself, let alone with several children. My kids can't sit still through an hour-long church service; six to eight hours and I would have killed all of us.

There was only one door to the church.  It looks a bit confusing from the outside.  As you can tell, it is a door within a door; the smaller inner door with the handle was used for everyday, common usage such as church, court, and ceremonies like weddings, etc.  The larger outer door can only be opened from the inside. Why?

Because it was only used in times of military occupation, in order to let in horses and large pieces of weaponry.  The church was twice militarily occupied, once during the American Revolution and again during the Civil War.  Once the outer door was closed, it afforded fairly good protection, since it could not be opened from the outside; the smaller inner door was easier to defend.  The walls of the church are three feet thick of Flemish-bonded brick, enabling it to serve as a fort when necessary.

There are four people buried within the church itself; two of these graves are marked by marble slabs in front of the chancel altar.  One of those two has been exhumed for examination and not yet returned.  The other is still there, under the marble slab inlaid on the floor.  Yet another person is buried in an unmarked grave beneath the baptismal font at the back of the church, just to the left of the door ins the picture above.  I don't know where the fourth person is buried; the docent didn't tell us and I forgot to ask.  It is, however, another unmarked grave within the church.

I didn't get a picture of it, but there is a creek that runs alongside the cemetery surrounding the church.  It is fairly small and shallow now due to damming further upstream, but in the 17th and 18th centuries it was a prime water route for transportation of goods inland.  So the church not only served as a place of worship and a fortress, but also a commercial transport post.

Monticello and Charlottesville

Soldier had to be in Charlottesville for a class this week (which is the whole reason we went on this trip anyway) so the boys and I stayed there for a few days before coming back home.  

Let me just say: I love Charlottesville.  

It's a college town, on the small side, but big enough to have a Chipotle and some decent shopping.   (And isn't that all that really matters?) Anyway, it's quaint and charming and easily walkable/bikeable, with historical sites on the side.  Most of the houses are on the older side; I'm sure there are newer ones somewhere, but we kept fairly close to the middle of town, which is largely old. There are three presidents' homes in the area: Madison, Jefferson, and Monroe.   We only had time to see Jefferson's Monticello.  You aren't allowed to take pictures inside the house itself, and the boys were rushing me through the outside parts, so I don't have any pictures to share.  

There are stables, the kitchen, wine and beer cellars, and various other "dependencies" as Jefferson called them, underneath the house.  It's not really a basement, as it's exposed to the outdoors (it's really on ground level and the house is built above it), but I imagine it would be plenty dark and shadowy at night.  I wish I had taken pictures of the kitchen, because at first glance I couldn't tell that it WAS one.  First of all, it wasn't in the actual house.  If you think about it, I guess this makes sense, because when you're cooking with a wood or coal stove, it gets pretty sooty and smoky, not the kind of thing you want to see and smell inside your house.  I was equally taken aback to see that the only things in the kitchen were shelves for the dishes and cookware, a hearth, and a long, multi-burner brick stove.   It was considered the most advanced and best-equipped kitchen of its time.  Again, upon further consideration, I have to admit that the absence of a sink, oven, and icebox, all of which I would have expected to see, was probably in line with the technology of the period.  Sinks require plumbing, which still hadn't been invented yet, along with ovens.  There was an icehouse, however, on the opposite side of the house, so I still don't know why there was no place to store cold foods in the kitchen if there was ample ice to do so.  

Monticello was a little underwhelming in some respects.  I though it would be a lot bigger than it was.  I suppose back in the 1800's it was considered enormous, but it really isn't that much bigger than the house we're currently in (which, while large, isn't a mansion by any means.) We didn't tour the gardens, which were no doubt impressive, but we didn't have time.  The house was interesting; I wish we could have poked through it more but of course you aren't allowed to touch anything and are required to stay with your group, which means no exploring narrow hallways or nooks and crannies.  I was impressed by all the scientific and mathematical things Jefferson worked on, and the way the family lived back then.  The tour guide was a very round man who liked to think that if he didn't know the answer to something, it wasn't important anyway, which was mildly annoying.  Soldier tried to take him up on the contentious point of the Jefferson/Hemings  issue, but the man simply stated what "their" position was, and wouldn't consider any others.  I personally don't contend the fact that Jefferson fathered her children (she had six, by the way), but I found it ridiculous  that historians have tried to imply that the two of them loved each other and had a consensual relationship.  Anyone with even a shred of knowledge about slave culture at the time, however, would understand the concept of forced consent.  Thomas Jefferson's wife died relatively young. He never remarried, instead bringing his daughter and her family to live with him at Monticello and help run the place.  Sally Hemings' was 3/4 white herself, very light-skinned, good-looking, and was also the half-sister of Jefferson's wife.  Yes, the half-sister of his wife.  Sally's mother was a concubine of Martha Jefferson's father, so it's not a stretch to assume that Sally herself was Jefferson's concubine.  (A concubine is someone who is involved in an ongoing, marraige-like relationship with a man whom she cannot marry, usually because of social status.)   So to recap: Sally was his wife's sister AND his personal property, to do whatever he pleased with.  I really do not think that Sally loved Jefferson or that he loved her, as historians have tried to imply.  When you are literally the property of a master and he controls every aspect of your life, including whether you live or die, you are probably going to go along with whatever he does to you, whether you like it or not.  I think it was more a situation of him being widowed and wanting sex, she was white enough and even his deceased wife's sister, (therefore he was attracted to her, presumably) and thus he chose her to literally be his sex slave.  I think it is also significant that he freed the children he had by her, but did not free her.  Supposedly this is because she first became pregnant while in Paris, and refused to accompany him back to America unless he freed her children.  That is possible, but I think it is more likely that he freed their children because they were HIS, and they were 7/8 white, which at that time meant they were entitled to live as free persons if their masters acquiesed.  I do not think that, as a slave, even a pretty, white-looking one, she would have been in a position to issue an ultimatum like that to her master.  She undoubtedly not only knew he controlled her fate, but was also at least a little intimidated by him - he was, after all, wealthy and incredibly intelligent, not to mention persuasive. So if he freed her children, why not her? Because if she was free, she could leave, and presumably, wouldn't be so readily available for sex at his whim.  Makes perfect sense to me.  But historians like to gloss over the particulars and just say they had a "relationship."  Well, sure.  But it was a slave/master relationship, not necessarily a love affair. 

Since I have no pictures of either Charlottesville or Monticello, here is one I took of the Virginia countryside, right off the highway.   Much of rural Virginia looks like this.  

Sand + water = fun

I still don't understand how I came to grow up in land-locked Oklahoma.  I am indisputably a water baby.  I love the water.  I grew up going to pools and lakes, but the ocean is just so powerful that I am still entranced by it every time I see it.  I even went to sailing camp for three years in a row as a kid, with my best friend.  I remember going to Hawaii with my parents when I was 7 and being amazed at the clarity of the water.  It was like liquid glass, sparkling and completely clear.  That was my first brush with the ocean and I've been drawn to it ever since. 

The beach was fun.  We went to Virginia Beach, which is soft and sandy, like beaches should be.  It was quite uncrowded, being fall and late afternoon, so we had a great spot.  The oldest two had never been, and the baby didn't remember it from a couple of years ago, so it was like a whole new experience for them all.  We did all the "beach" things: play in the ocean, dig in the sand, find shells.  Horseback riders trotted past occasionally, and seagulls darted in and out. We got there kind of late so we only stayed for a couple of hours, but really, that was enough. 

 Just as we were talking about getting ready to leave, Soldier spotted a dolphin not too far from us.  So we stayed and watched awhile longer and it obligingly jumped up several more times, along with a friend.  I tried to get pictures of them but my little camera has no telephoto lens and thus cannot focus 500 feet out over the ocean. We left at sunset and drove through a tunnel that went through the ocean, which would have been a smidge unnerving for anyone afraid of the water.  But we thought it was nifty.

My middle son decided it was necessary to chase a seagull.  At some point, I'm sure, the next time he goes to the beach, he will get pooped on.  

Because all I have is a point-and-shoot camera, I could just barely capture this incredibly cool sailing ship at sunset.  I desperately wish I had a telephoto lens because this would have been going up in a frame if I'd been able to get a closer shot.  

I'm back

Busch Gardens - check. Monticello - check. St Luke's Church - check. The ocean - check.

 *10 bonus points if you know what state I visited*

 I had less than 24 hours to plan for, pack for, and prepare for said trip. But no way was I going to turn it down when it was offered to me at the last minute. I've wanted to go out there for awhile.

I'm going to break this up into several posts over the next few days because I have pictures to share and it makes each post that much longer.  I promise, I'm not going to share all of them.  Don't run screaming just yet.

So I'll start with Busch Gardens.

 Busch Gardens was purely awesome. They had it all done up for Halloween, complete with costumed characters (think Freddy Krueger, not Mickey Mouse) walking around scaring people. Throughout the park, speakers played eerie Halloween music, and everything was decorated with dark roses  (some of which had eyeballs) and creepy ivy, cobwebs, mummies that truly looked real, spiders, skeletons, ghosts, gory limbs, 3-D monsters, etc.

 We could not have picked at better time to visit than we did. The boys were freaked out from time to time, but I have to say, the overall experience was fantastic. The only ride we really had to wait in line for (for over an hour and a half - argh) was The Curse of DarKastle, which is a Haunted Mansion - type ride, except in 4-D movie format.

 The two older boys hid their eyes the entire time, and we didn't even attempt to take the baby on it (we did child-swap at the loading point) but Soldier and I liked it. Was it worth the hour and a half wait? Well, if, like us, you've never seen it before, then probably. But I wouldn't wait that long to see it again. Because if you know what's coming, it kind of takes away the suspense. It's still a good ride, though; I would probably wait 30 minutes next time, but no more than that.

Brr.

Man. It was summer when I left. I was gone for five days and came back to winter. For the record, I am not a fan of winter. I'm working on a post about our trip; it'll be up shortly.

Addiction

Has anyone else found Pinterest to be as addictive as crack? Because I sure have.

Truth:

Sometimes life just sucks. You can philosophize about it all you want, drag out every theory in the book about why life is fair or not fair or why it should or should not be fair or unfair or whether fairness is even logical or illogical or relative to life in general at all, but the bottom line is, sometimes life just sucks and contemplating why just makes it suck even worse. There's no need to go into particulars about who, what, when, where, or how; it's just been one of those days for too many days in a row and I've lost my patience. Back to regularly scheduled programming tomorrow. Or the next day. Or whenever I get out of this mood.