Not since I lived in the Boston area, have I had this feeling of ghosts at every turn. The woods of Greater Williamsburg seem to be thick with them. I do not refer to the specters of those who gained fame during colonial times. Local towns and roads remember and revere the names of men such as Rochambeau, Washington, and Powahatan as well they should. No, it is the common settler I allude to, the dirt farmer and shepherd who were so ubiquitous during that seminal epoch.
The backwoods are full of their traces. Small ponds and culverts intersperse with natural water formations and permeate the landscape. Long ruined outbuildings, old watermills fallen into disuse and asymmetrical log fences color the scenery as well. Here in Williamsburg, Virginia, the locals have gone to great lengths to preserve the colonial flavor of the old town center. Numerous small structures retain more than a vestige of the early settlement’s character.
In addition, newer buildings have restrictive building codes in order to have them artlessly blend with the originals. It is here where the ghosts seem most at hand. Colonial Williamsburg provides an admirably authentic milieu for recreating the period. Besides uniformed soldiers, the village displays proffer peopled vignettes that comprise faithful replications of early settler life. Costumed participants (including women in ankle length white cotton aprons with matching bonnets) stroll about the grounds giving a veritable manifestation of those times of yore.
Nearby Yorktown, although its efforts are somewhat less structured than those of Williamsburg are, though these, too, retain much of the same colonial character. There, the focus is more on the seafarers of the era, concentrating on the oystermen and other shallows fishermen. Ghosts burgeon along the waterways as well. A white sail scuds along one of the many channels in a spectral fashion, breathing more than a little truth into an ancient mariner’s tale.
In close proximity, to both these communities, lies Jamestown, where historical reenactments are nearly as commonplace as they are in Williamsburg. Ghosts seemingly abound in this trio of towns, which bill themselves as “America’s colonial triangle.” Indeed, settlements here, rivaled only by those in the commonwealth of Massachusetts, do have the historical bonafides to make such an extravagant claim.
Back in Boston, the locals make similar claims and they possess the requisite credentials as well. In the North End of Boston (an old, Italian neighborhood,) sits Fort Point. This is a venerable quarter with more than its share of resident wraiths. Walking its streets late at night can provide enough chills for Stephen King himself. More recognizable locales, most notably Old North Church and Faneuil Hall, offer similar opportunities for eerie apparition.
Here in eastern Virginia, as I have said, there is no shortage of phantasms; the local variety lays claim to myriad occasions of their own. I have often wondered about early settler life; what was their existence like? Trailblazing through thick, unfamiliar woods must have proved daunting to even the most seasoned among them. Surely, natives must have been of some assistance (before open hostilities and the resulting alienation set in, that is) but to strike out into heavily forested areas could not have been easy with or without guides. Uneasy phantoms of those restive times seem to haunt the local woodland still.
In all, whether in the Northeast or the Southeast, history has shown these areas to have a remarkable resilience, which has served them well in good times and bad. As well, both have seemed to remain largely unaffected by whatever phantasmagorical remnants of history may or may not have conspired to plague them in the here and now or in some other alternative reality.
© Stephen Alexander 2008
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