and to keep it in decent order.[1] From the beginning, however, it was the custom of numerous persons to bury the deceased members of their families in the immediate vicinity of their homes. Abraham Piersey, the wealthiest citizen of Virginia of his time, was buried near his dwelling-house. So common did this habit become that in a memorial drawn up by the Bishop of London in 1677, he complained that the public places for burial were neglected, and that the dead among the planters were interred in their gardens.[2] The bodies of many were buried in the graveyards or in the chancels of the parish churches.[3]
It would be inferred from the inventories of that period that there was no vehicle in Virginia in the seventeenth century resembling a carriage, but from other sources it is learned that this means of locomotion was not unknown in the Colony. Such a vehicle seems to have been in the possession of a few very wealthy persons. William Fitzhugh owned what was known in that age as a calash, which had been imported from England; Governor Berkeley possessed a coach.[4] When the average planter
- ↑ Lawes and Orders, British State Papers, Colonial, vol. III, No. 9; McDonald Papers, vol. I, p. 93, Va. State Library.
- ↑ Documents Relating to Colonial History of New York, vol. III, p. 253; see also will of Richard Kemp, Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, vol. II, p. 174.
- ↑ Records of York County, vol. 1690-1694, p. 169, Va. State Library; see also Records of Accomac County, 1632-1640, p. 53, Va. State Library.
- ↑ Will of William Fitzhugh, Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, vol. II, p. 276, refers to his “coaches.” Hugh Jones, writing in the first quarter of the eighteenth century, said that “most females (in Virginia) had a coach, chariot, Berlin or chaise.” Present State of Virginia, p. 32. See the reference to Lady Berkeley’s coach in a letter of the English Commissioners, May 4, 1677, Colonial Entry Book, No. 81; Winder Papers, vol. II, p. 318, Va. State Library. Fitzhugh on one occasion ordered what he called a “Running chair,” which probably resembled a modern sulky. See Letters, July 10, 1690.
