Historic Gardens of Virginia 



she walked in her fading beauty and her elegant apparel, and 

 wept, until she died. 



Not far from the house the ashes of the beautiful Evelyn 

 Byrd lie, near those of her grandfather, William Byrd the first, 

 in the yard of old Westover Church, which, if we may liken West- 

 over itself to an emerald clasp upon the necklace of the golden 

 James, we might call a pendant. 



The first Westover Church, which was built in the early part 

 of the seventeenth century, stood on the shore of the river, still 

 nearer Westover. The present church, which was erected about 

 1740, is somewhat back from the James, upon Herring Creek, a 

 lazy, brown stream, bordered near the river by marshes, which 

 give way to banks crowned with pines and cedars, sycamore, holly, 

 and beech trees. 



It Is a plain, low, rectangular structure of red brick, dwarfed 

 by the great trees by which it is surrounded. The little church has 

 passed through many vicissitudes. For many years the Byrds 

 worshipped there, but early in the nineteenth century, when the 

 Byrds had passed away and the Episcopal Church suffered its great 

 depression in Virginia, its sacred offices were almost forgotten and 

 it was used as a barn. Later still, during the War Between the 

 States the graveyard wall was thrown down, the tombs broken, and 

 McClellan's troopers stabled their horses within the venerable walls 

 of the edifice. 



After the war, the building was restored by James Hamlin 

 Willcox, and is now again used as a church. 



A gentleman relates that, as a boy, his negro mammy carried 

 him to service in this church. On weekdays he was allowed to go 

 barefoot, but on Sundays his reluctant feet were forced into shoes. 

 Safely ensconced in the pew, he would slyly wiggle his feet out of 

 confinement and then wriggle his toes in the sand between the stone 

 slabs of the floor. Through the old diamond-paned windows he 

 would watch the bees clustering upon the roses that clambered 

 about the embrasure, and, at last, to their drowsy hum, that blended 



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