The republic., 1851-07-14
From he Kniekerboekr Magazine for July.
OF the Revolutionary Heroes Z
virginia

1
Virginia.
| We make the following extract from letter re-
Gently received from old (nay, by r lady, mol
o'd, but :" yenerable!'') and esteemed friend, who
dates at Locust Farm, WestInoreland county,
| Virginia ="
4" Ny DEAR KslcK.: II was only few days ago
that shook hands with you in New York ! am
now away down here, on the northern neck of Vir-
gina, and not far from the spot on which Washing.
ton was born, and scattered here and there and all
| around me are the birthplaces of Madison, Mon
roe, Richard Henry Lee, Francis Lightioot Lee,
/ &c, &c. Yesterday the ground upon
which resss the ruins of the former residence of
Richard Henry Lee. All that stands upright of
this once-imposing mansion is the kitchen Chin
ney In front, scarcely half mile distant, is the
shore OF the lordly Potomac here about nine miles
| across, upon whose beach roll its billows Lee is
gone; his house ID in the dust, his garden wild ;
but here are the same sky, the same lands, the
same Potomac, and the same dirge that Of yore
broke In murnurs on the shore The remains of
Lee lie in the midst OF a corn field some five miles
distant over which, am told, is a small stone,
with his name engraven upon it What leveler
is TIMEl Talk Of that ancient parsonage you
may, his footprints, although soft down, crum-
bic the hardest substances, and bury all things
'JVhere is CartIageP
My friend, TO whom am indebted for many
-ciyiltea in returning from ride over the grounds
once cultivated by Lee, took the road home by the
old Yeocomico church. This relic of the past had
seen few days before. wish could send you
drawing OF it, inside as well as out. Ii was built
Ammo DoMINI 1906, some twenty-six years before
the birth Of Washington. Think, for moment, of
the events that have happened since the sounds Of
the hammer, the saw, and the trowel were heard
at the building of this church. now hum
dred and forty hive years old of the themes that
have been handled in this ancient pulpit; Of the
hearts that have pulsated within these walls of the
eyes that have shown in hope, or been dimmed by
despair; OF the trains Of borrowing mourners that
have followed, in sad step, after the other, the
beloved ones of whom death had bereft them; of
the plighted vows at that altar of the baptisms in
that fonts and what crowds of images stand be-
fore one! And yet, like come sound in the stiffness
of the midnight hour, some vision of the dream
ing fancy, all, all are pas-all is now vacant and
still, and forever vanished What ruin is this
church! II would seem, to look at its glazed and
ungazed bricks, its massy timbers, and its brick
floor and passage ways, that TIME could not, in a
thousand years. have worked 80 mighty change
in It, But II has required only the years have
named to effect so signal ruin. How true il is,
Cowper sings:
'' We build. with what we deem eternal brass-
A distant age asks where the fabric stood
But sited, alas and searched in vain
The undscoverable secret seeps.'
g forgot to mention that few tombstones mark
the spot where the dead lie; and those which re-
main 30 broken up and scattered, and have the
inscriptions etiaced as to render them useless.
The name OF CARTER is the stone that has suf-
fered least. Nor the graves raised or sodded
How melancholy is oil this, friend c., and what
lesson it teaches Sour fathers find their graves
in our short memories, and sadly tell US how we
may be buried in survivors,"
This font, am told, was long used by Mr.
Turberville punch bowl. Many hundreds of
lips have been regaled by the beverage once pre-
pared IN this now sacred appendage of the church.