FROM A CENTURY-OLD PERSPECTIVE - DEC 18, 1898
The Old Free State of Warwick
COUNTY AS IT WAS IN THE DAYS OF OLD - TRADITIONS AND STORIES - ORIGIN OF THE NAME - BLIND GODDESS HAD A LAZY TIME OF IT - SOME ANCIENT ENGLISH CHURCHES - HOW JOHN VAIL WON HIS SWEETHEART
Daily Press – Newport News, VA.,
December 18, 1898
There is no part of America so rich in traditions as this peninsula of Virginia, where in early and half-forgotten days so much of history and romance was made, and, later on, so many battles were fought with impious foes. Some day the story of the peninsula will be written from the beginning to current time, and when it is completed, it may well be imagined that in America, at least, it will be of thrilling interest. In such a book, the Old Free State of Warwick will have no unimportant part.
It was on the very point where the City of Newport News now stands that the starving and discontented colonists, preparing to return to England, received their first news of Newport, coming in from England with food, colonists, and supplies. The event had much to do with the destiny of Virginia, for had the colonists not met the incoming vessel, the progress of the Old Commonwealth would probably have been delayed for another hundred years.
It was just off shore here that was fought on the 8th and 9thof March, 1862, a battle which revolutionized the naval fighting of the world. This remarkable encounter between the first iron-clads in history was witnessed by many of the people on shore, and it would take but a few minutes to go out and find half a dozen persons who saw the great duel. One gentleman relates how he saw the fight from a point ten miles up the river, and says that even at that distance he could see the shot crashing into the sides of the doomed frigates, and flames bursting from them, while the force of the detonations shook the windows in his home on the river bank a dozen miles away.
But all that is history, now, and any school boy is familiar with it. In actual legend and tradition, Warwick County is not so wealthy as some of the adjoining counties. It was settled like all the other peninsula counties, and the people had their trouble with the Indians like the rest of early Virginia mankind; but very few stories of those old days have come down to this end of the century.
Warwick County is one of the smallest in the state. It is about twenty-five miles long, and will hardly average over three or four miles wide, extending as it does along
the James River on the West, Hampton Roads on the South, Elizabeth City and York counties on the East, and James City county on the North.
But though small in size, and perhaps for that very reason, it was probably the most independent county in the State. The people were to a large extent “law” unto themselves. Arrests were few. There were practically no [poor] people in Warwick County. There was plenty of devilment.
On court days, the farmers from round-about would get together and consume more or less of old corn juice. There was fighting in abundance, but the man who got whipped never dreamed of proffering charges against the man who whipped him. Why should he? Were they not all friends and neighbors, and was it not the habit of the county and the custom of the land. The man who would take his neighbor into court because of a little fracas would have been tabooed forever. Nothing very serious ever happened. If perchance that constable was near, he would wade in when things had gone far enough and endeavor to separate the contesting parties.
Sometimes he succeeded, and sometimes he received only a broken head for his pains, but the constable did not mind that; it was about all he did do to justify his holding office.
Arrests were few and far between, and sometimes the county court did not convene for two months at a time, and when it did, the session usually lasted not more than half a day, court adjourning in time to let the judge and jury go home for dinner. The circuit court rarely sat for longer than a day, and easily transacted the business which came before it in that time.
Anent the dearth of court business, everyone remembers that most notable of all Warwickians, “Hell-cat Billy” Jones or “Billy B.” Jones as he was more often and less profanely known. He was one of the brightest and most remarkable men the county ever produced, and was for twenty seven years clerk of the court of this county.
Well, Doug Smith or most any other historian can tell you of the time when this distinguished gentleman used to carry the records of the court home in his hat, so much because the hat was so large, as because the records were so small. Considerable excitement was created upon one occasion when the clerk lost his hat, and with that were lost also the records. The hat with its valuable contents was found several days after, and a record book was purchased.
And so people began to call the little county the Old Free State of Warwick, and it deserved the name.
All this before the days of the railroad, and Bloodfield. That one section today furnishes more material for the courts than the whole county did many times over, and the officers of justice no longer have a sinecure. So peaceful were the times that the older inhabitants can remember but two murders of any note preceding the establishment of the railroad. One of these occurred on this point, something like a score of years ago, when Sheldon Slaughter was murdered..., one of whom was arrested and lynched to a tree limb which stretched across the road just below the Court House. Sheriff Bob Curtis was the power that was in those days, but the infuriated citizens overpowered the sturdy sheriff and took the keys from him.
Another murder that is recalled is that of a man named Wooten, who kept a little store in the upper end of the county called Halfway House because it was about halfway between Yorktown and Williamsburg. One night in a year, not more that one or two after the war, Wooten heard a noise just outside of the building, and going to the window he peered out into the darkness to see what it was that caused the racket. As he looked some one shot him in the face, killing him almost instantly. There were three arrests in this case..., one of whom was hanged at Warwick Courthouse, and the other two were sent to the penitentiary. After killing their man, the[y]... looted the store of anything in it of any value. In those days there were regularly organized bands... who went about the country robbing stores, and private houses, too, for that matter and incidents are related now how often-time they were permitted to go through a house and take what they liked, the owner being up stairs; perhaps afraid to interfere, while all his earthly possessions were being toted away by desperate thieves who would have murdered him with little compunction had he shown himself.
The county is divided into three magisterial districts; Stanley, Denbigh and Newport in which this city is situated. Both of the first two were original grants from the crown, Stanley representing in great parts lands granted to the original Stanley family when it came over to this country from England and settled here; while Denbigh was a grant to the Diggs and Carey families.
Many of the older people here have attended worship in an old frame church which stood in Stanley district, and was called the Mulberry Island church. Originally, of course, it was used by all denominations, though, as a matter of fact, there was very little variety in the early days of Warwick in the matter of religion, everything being Baptist. This church was used for public worship as late as [1856], but in spite of all the repairing and patching that could be done to it, decay at last set its seal upon the structure and now scarcely a trace of the old church remains. Indeed it is doubtful if the place where it stood could be located.
The Mulberry Island church has a grant of several acres of land, and this still belongs to it, or would if it existed still. As it is, it belongs to the Old Free State, and the county has built upon it a public school, and uses it for a voting place also. It is probably the most hallowed voting precinct in this section of the country.
There was another of these old frame churches built about the same time. This stood at Denbigh and is still used by the Baptists. It has been repaired, weatherboarded and shingled so often that scarcely any of the original timbers remain, except perhaps the beams and skeleton.
The old homestead of the Diggs family, built in times colonial, was burned something over a score of years ago and has never been rebuilt. It was a beautiful old residence and made an ideal conflagration. The fire was accidental and the building was in ashes in an incredibly short time, burning like tinder. Nearly all of these old colonial homes had their kitchens in solidly built brick buildings detached from the house. This was the case with the Diggs home at Denbigh. That ancient kitchen has been renovated and nicely fitted out and is now the home of Dr. Young.
Just across the county line in James City county, lives Mrs. Curtis in another old colonial residence that was used as a hospital during the Revolution and the War of 1812. It was again used as a hospital in the Civil War and is now standing and is occupied as a home, being in almost a perfect state of repair.
Warwick County always has been a little short on paupers. [Along Warwick road was built – on the -illegible] there was not known of but one case of indigency, and that was an old lady living near Deep Creek. There was no “poor house” in the county. And, the good people took up a subscription for her. But later on, when the county began“ to be developed,” a poor house became necessary, though even to this day, it has never been extensively patronized.
In the olden times the people of the Old Free State of Warwick were all moderately and comfortably well off. There were not many people who were actually poor and only about two were very rich; that is, rich, as wealth went in their times. There is probably many an old love tale woven into the history of the county. One of the prettiest is that of John Vail, a well-to-do young farmer who fell in love with the pretty daughter of old man Jack Lucas, who lived in style up near the courthouse. The father did not like the young man, who, truth to tell, was a little wild, and refused to allow him to see his daughter. But Master John was not to be daunted by old man Jack, so he proposed to the young lady to elope, to which arrangement she cheerfully consented.
Well, one night the ardent lover arrived at the home of his charmer, and, standing down in the yard, called softly to her that the time had come for her to become Mrs. John Vail. The young lady’s apartments were on the second floor of the dwelling, but this was of small moment. Loving hearts soon find a way, and in a jiffy, old Jack Lucas’ pretty daughter had thrown a feather bed upon the ground and in another jiffy she was herself deposited upon it, ungracefully to be sure, but safely.
The bold young man took his sweetheart in his arms and together they fled to the water’s edge, where a boat was awaiting them. Hurriedly shoving off, they were soon a-sail upon the blue waters of Hampton Roads. The journey was not concluded until the couple returned as man and wife. They had to go to North Carolina to have the ceremony performed; but it was no more than hundreds of happy couples are doing now. The Tar Heel State was the haven of refuge for hunted hearts in days of old as it is in these more matter-of-fact days.
But the advent of the railroad in 1881 knocked all of the poetry out of the Old Free State of Warwick. It was the inevitable. The coming of the railroad marked the passing of these good old times when people used to be immune from the toils of the laws, and nobody ever got mad at anybody else. With the coming of the railroad came life, vigor, and energy, came commerce and importance. It was as though Warwick had been the sleeping princess and the railroad, the charming prince who placed upon her brow the magic kiss that awakened her from her long slumber. The railroad came and presently there was a great city in the Old Free State, where formerly there had not been so much as a village; the immense grain elevator was erected; the electric railway was built; the millions of Huntington went into the construction of the finest shipyard on the Atlantic coast and the municipal marvel of the new South was an actual fact.
Daily Press – Newport News, VA.,
December 18, 1898
December 18, 1898
There is no part of America so rich in traditions as this peninsula of Virginia, where in early and half-forgotten days so much of history and romance was made, and, later on, so many battles were fought with impious foes. Some day the story of the peninsula will be written from the beginning to current time, and when it is completed, it may well be imagined that in America, at least, it will be of thrilling interest. In such a book, the Old Free State of Warwick will have no unimportant part.
It was on the very point where the City of Newport News now stands that the starving and discontented colonists, preparing to return to England, received their first news of Newport, coming in from England with food, colonists, and supplies. The event had much to do with the destiny of Virginia, for had the colonists not met the incoming vessel, the progress of the Old Commonwealth would probably have been delayed for another hundred years.
It was just off shore here that was fought on the 8th and 9thof March, 1862, a battle which revolutionized the naval fighting of the world. This remarkable encounter between the first iron-clads in history was witnessed by many of the people on shore, and it would take but a few minutes to go out and find half a dozen persons who saw the great duel. One gentleman relates how he saw the fight from a point ten miles up the river, and says that even at that distance he could see the shot crashing into the sides of the doomed frigates, and flames bursting from them, while the force of the detonations shook the windows in his home on the river bank a dozen miles away.
But all that is history, now, and any school boy is familiar with it. In actual legend and tradition, Warwick County is not so wealthy as some of the adjoining counties. It was settled like all the other peninsula counties, and the people had their trouble with the Indians like the rest of early Virginia mankind; but very few stories of those old days have come down to this end of the century.
Warwick County is one of the smallest in the state. It is about twenty-five miles long, and will hardly average over three or four miles wide, extending as it does along
the James River on the West, Hampton Roads on the South, Elizabeth City and York counties on the East, and James City county on the North.
But though small in size, and perhaps for that very reason, it was probably the most independent county in the State. The people were to a large extent “law” unto themselves. Arrests were few. There were practically no [poor] people in Warwick County. There was plenty of devilment.
On court days, the farmers from round-about would get together and consume more or less of old corn juice. There was fighting in abundance, but the man who got whipped never dreamed of proffering charges against the man who whipped him. Why should he? Were they not all friends and neighbors, and was it not the habit of the county and the custom of the land. The man who would take his neighbor into court because of a little fracas would have been tabooed forever. Nothing very serious ever happened. If perchance that constable was near, he would wade in when things had gone far enough and endeavor to separate the contesting parties.
Sometimes he succeeded, and sometimes he received only a broken head for his pains, but the constable did not mind that; it was about all he did do to justify his holding office.
Arrests were few and far between, and sometimes the county court did not convene for two months at a time, and when it did, the session usually lasted not more than half a day, court adjourning in time to let the judge and jury go home for dinner. The circuit court rarely sat for longer than a day, and easily transacted the business which came before it in that time.
Anent the dearth of court business, everyone remembers that most notable of all Warwickians, “Hell-cat Billy” Jones or “Billy B.” Jones as he was more often and less profanely known. He was one of the brightest and most remarkable men the county ever produced, and was for twenty seven years clerk of the court of this county.
Well, Doug Smith or most any other historian can tell you of the time when this distinguished gentleman used to carry the records of the court home in his hat, so much because the hat was so large, as because the records were so small. Considerable excitement was created upon one occasion when the clerk lost his hat, and with that were lost also the records. The hat with its valuable contents was found several days after, and a record book was purchased.
And so people began to call the little county the Old Free State of Warwick, and it deserved the name.
All this before the days of the railroad, and Bloodfield. That one section today furnishes more material for the courts than the whole county did many times over, and the officers of justice no longer have a sinecure. So peaceful were the times that the older inhabitants can remember but two murders of any note preceding the establishment of the railroad. One of these occurred on this point, something like a score of years ago, when Sheldon Slaughter was murdered..., one of whom was arrested and lynched to a tree limb which stretched across the road just below the Court House. Sheriff Bob Curtis was the power that was in those days, but the infuriated citizens overpowered the sturdy sheriff and took the keys from him.
Another murder that is recalled is that of a man named Wooten, who kept a little store in the upper end of the county called Halfway House because it was about halfway between Yorktown and Williamsburg. One night in a year, not more that one or two after the war, Wooten heard a noise just outside of the building, and going to the window he peered out into the darkness to see what it was that caused the racket. As he looked some one shot him in the face, killing him almost instantly. There were three arrests in this case..., one of whom was hanged at Warwick Courthouse, and the other two were sent to the penitentiary. After killing their man, the[y]... looted the store of anything in it of any value. In those days there were regularly organized bands... who went about the country robbing stores, and private houses, too, for that matter and incidents are related now how often-time they were permitted to go through a house and take what they liked, the owner being up stairs; perhaps afraid to interfere, while all his earthly possessions were being toted away by desperate thieves who would have murdered him with little compunction had he shown himself.
The county is divided into three magisterial districts; Stanley, Denbigh and Newport in which this city is situated. Both of the first two were original grants from the crown, Stanley representing in great parts lands granted to the original Stanley family when it came over to this country from England and settled here; while Denbigh was a grant to the Diggs and Carey families.
Many of the older people here have attended worship in an old frame church which stood in Stanley district, and was called the Mulberry Island church. Originally, of course, it was used by all denominations, though, as a matter of fact, there was very little variety in the early days of Warwick in the matter of religion, everything being Baptist. This church was used for public worship as late as [1856], but in spite of all the repairing and patching that could be done to it, decay at last set its seal upon the structure and now scarcely a trace of the old church remains. Indeed it is doubtful if the place where it stood could be located.
The Mulberry Island church has a grant of several acres of land, and this still belongs to it, or would if it existed still. As it is, it belongs to the Old Free State, and the county has built upon it a public school, and uses it for a voting place also. It is probably the most hallowed voting precinct in this section of the country.
There was another of these old frame churches built about the same time. This stood at Denbigh and is still used by the Baptists. It has been repaired, weatherboarded and shingled so often that scarcely any of the original timbers remain, except perhaps the beams and skeleton.
The old homestead of the Diggs family, built in times colonial, was burned something over a score of years ago and has never been rebuilt. It was a beautiful old residence and made an ideal conflagration. The fire was accidental and the building was in ashes in an incredibly short time, burning like tinder. Nearly all of these old colonial homes had their kitchens in solidly built brick buildings detached from the house. This was the case with the Diggs home at Denbigh. That ancient kitchen has been renovated and nicely fitted out and is now the home of Dr. Young.
Just across the county line in James City county, lives Mrs. Curtis in another old colonial residence that was used as a hospital during the Revolution and the War of 1812. It was again used as a hospital in the Civil War and is now standing and is occupied as a home, being in almost a perfect state of repair.
Warwick County always has been a little short on paupers. [Along Warwick road was built – on the -illegible] there was not known of but one case of indigency, and that was an old lady living near Deep Creek. There was no “poor house” in the county. And, the good people took up a subscription for her. But later on, when the county began“ to be developed,” a poor house became necessary, though even to this day, it has never been extensively patronized.
In the olden times the people of the Old Free State of Warwick were all moderately and comfortably well off. There were not many people who were actually poor and only about two were very rich; that is, rich, as wealth went in their times. There is probably many an old love tale woven into the history of the county. One of the prettiest is that of John Vail, a well-to-do young farmer who fell in love with the pretty daughter of old man Jack Lucas, who lived in style up near the courthouse. The father did not like the young man, who, truth to tell, was a little wild, and refused to allow him to see his daughter. But Master John was not to be daunted by old man Jack, so he proposed to the young lady to elope, to which arrangement she cheerfully consented.
Well, one night the ardent lover arrived at the home of his charmer, and, standing down in the yard, called softly to her that the time had come for her to become Mrs. John Vail. The young lady’s apartments were on the second floor of the dwelling, but this was of small moment. Loving hearts soon find a way, and in a jiffy, old Jack Lucas’ pretty daughter had thrown a feather bed upon the ground and in another jiffy she was herself deposited upon it, ungracefully to be sure, but safely.
The bold young man took his sweetheart in his arms and together they fled to the water’s edge, where a boat was awaiting them. Hurriedly shoving off, they were soon a-sail upon the blue waters of Hampton Roads. The journey was not concluded until the couple returned as man and wife. They had to go to North Carolina to have the ceremony performed; but it was no more than hundreds of happy couples are doing now. The Tar Heel State was the haven of refuge for hunted hearts in days of old as it is in these more matter-of-fact days.
But the advent of the railroad in 1881 knocked all of the poetry out of the Old Free State of Warwick. It was the inevitable. The coming of the railroad marked the passing of these good old times when people used to be immune from the toils of the laws, and nobody ever got mad at anybody else. With the coming of the railroad came life, vigor, and energy, came commerce and importance. It was as though Warwick had been the sleeping princess and the railroad, the charming prince who placed upon her brow the magic kiss that awakened her from her long slumber. The railroad came and presently there was a great city in the Old Free State, where formerly there had not been so much as a village; the immense grain elevator was erected; the electric railway was built; the millions of Huntington went into the construction of the finest shipyard on the Atlantic coast and the municipal marvel of the new South was an actual fact.
Daily Press – Newport News, VA.,
December 18, 1898
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