Oldest incorporated town is in Va.
Try Bermuda Hundred in Chesterfield County

BY JULIAN WALKER
TIMES-DISPATCH STAFF WRITER
	
Mar 26, 2007

Before Richmond was the River City, Chesterfield County's historic 
Bermuda Hundred community was the region's river town.

Resting near the confluence of the James and Appomattox rivers, the 
16-acre peninsula straddles the line between past and present, between 
nature and commerce.

"There's something about the river," said Evelyn Gray, looking out at 
the water through the window of the riverfront home where she was born 
87 years ago.

She remembers when the river would freeze so solidly that you could 
walk across it; and when trips to Richmond required a boat ride to 
Hopewell, a trolley ride to Petersburg and another to the city.

Like most of the few remaining residents of Bermuda Hundred, Gray is a 
lifer.

"It gets into you, and it means so much to you," Gray said. "I can sit 
up in bed in the morning and look out and see that the river is still 
there. When all of my friends were going into retirement homes, they 
wanted me to come with them and I said, 'There's no river, so I won't 
do it.'"

Over the years, Bermuda Hundred has been a home to freed slaves and a 
thriving river port. For those factors and others, Bermuda Hundred was 
recently added to the National Registry of Historic Places.

As the story goes, Bermuda Hundred was named by onetime inhabitant John 
Rolfe because of the similarities he saw between the appearance of the 
area's mimosa trees and Bermuda's Royal poinciana trees.

"Hundred" is a colonial English term that referred to a jurisdiction of 
100 families.

Bermuda Hundred is the first incorporated town in English America and 
once was the home of Rolfe and Pocahontas.

Before being established in 1613, Bermuda Hundred was populated by the 
Appomattox Indians.

"There's a possibility that this is where John Rolfe experimented with 
tobacco, which be came the basis for the economy of Virginia," said 
Randy Jones, spokesman for the state Department of Historic Resources. 
"The feeling of our archaeologists is it's an incredible district for 
history: Native American history, Colonial history, African-American 
history and Civil War history."

Ten years ago, Chester businessman Jim Daniels lobbied for the historic 
designation that now has been bestowed on Bermuda Hundred.

The community is tucked behind two looming industrial plants that sit 
on land once home to expansive farms. It is accessible only by a 
winding strip of asphalt just wide enough for one car.

Eight houses -- some still use wood stoves for heat -- a historic 
church and a crumbling schoolhouse are all that remains there today. 
That, and the people -- about 15 -- who still live there.

"I like the seclusion of the area," said Gloria Hewlett, who can trace 
six generations of her family on the peninsula.

Her 89-year old father, Sensia Johnson, lives in the next house over, 
and her sister lives nearby.

Her husband also has generations-old roots on the peninsula, and his 
mother, brother and several cousins still call it home.

"We're all family down here," said Hewlett, 57. "Everybody's related in 
some way."

Just upriver is Presquile National Wildlife Refuge, where seagulls, 
waterfowl and the occasional eagle are known to perch.

Other varieties of critters can be found in the river, and in James 
McWilliams' backyard.

Like Gray and Hewlett, McWilliams is a Bermuda Hundred fixture. He's 
been there for all of his 78 years.

"I was born right here," the man who folks around here call Mr. Jimmy 
said, waving toward a patch of earth in his side yard. "Where you see 
my garden, right there. And I didn't move. I raised six children here. 
You can live here just as soon as you can go to New York and make a 
living."

In those days, McWilliams made his living fishing on the river and 
selling his catches to boats bound for Baltimore.

"Catfish, eels, German carp," all put money in his pocket, or food in 
his belly.

"Eels is good meat. That's good eating."

Between 1691 and 1940, Bermuda Hundred was an active port with 
waterfront stores and a post office. Gray's father owned the last 
active store in Bermuda Hundred.

When river activity slowed in the mid-20th century, local men such as 
McWilliams turned to factory work in Hopewell.

But he never lost touch with the land and how to live off it.

His yard is a hodgepodge of junk accumulated over a lifetime and 
sporadic gardening plots where garlic, potatoes and turnip greens 
sprout.

A few drooping fruit trees -- two varieties of apple, a peach and a 
plum -- and a grapevine grow nearby in the yard. He swears they all 
bear fruit.

Out back, he's got some dogs, caged rabbits, a mangy cat that just 
showed up one day, a few hens that lay eggs he eats and two roosters, 
one of which crows whenever he feels like it.

McWilliams says he still sometimes fishes and hunts the occasional wild 
turkey, goose or squirrel for food.

Nature and the river seem to be intertwined with life in Bermuda 
Hundred. In the old days, members of First Baptist Church Bermuda 
Hundred were baptized in the river.

Membership has shrunk to about 45 people, but Hewlett, an associate 
minister at the church, thinks it is rebounding. Since January 2006, 13 
people have joined.

Evelyn Gray's son, Frederick T. "Rick" Gray Jr., recalls hearing the 
sounds of singing from the church through the open windows of his 
mother's home on hot summer nights.

He has lived much of his life in Bermuda Hundred, a place he says is 
inextricably linked to the river.

"The thing that's most beautiful is the moonrise from the east. It 
happens 12 or 13 times a year. The moon will rise over Shirley 
[Plantation in Charles City County], and it will throw a silver, golden 
path across the river. It's quite breathtaking, and I think it'd be 
hard to leave that."

Contact staff writer Julian Walker at [log in to unmask] or 
(804) 649-6831.