A, Xe@4| brings one to a cedar-lined lane which leads into
MeN, Ska the plantation of Tuckahoe.
ei Zs For one mile this double line of cedars stretches,
and, though serious gaps have been made in the
broad avenue by time and weather, the continuity of the evergreen
trees, through successive plantations, is now unbroken. ‘The oldest
of these trees in their lusty age extend arms farther afield than in
their youth, their naked trunks standing stiff and upright, so like the
pipes of some cathedral organ that one would not start at the
sound of deep, reverential tones coming along the lane. It 1s most
impressive.
Down the lofty nave of this forest cathedral gleams, at the
end, under the open sky, the old, white gateway which bars the
lane from the lawn. And straight ahead in the distance, upon a
little rise of ground, the old house stands like some fading seven¬
teenth-century picture shut away in its immediate world. Approach¬
ing it through the old gateway, one will never forget the picture,
especially if the season be spring. NHoary-headed elm trees and
clouds of golden daffodils literally surround it. Goldfinches and
mocking-birds twitter a welcome, and, girdling all, James River
in the distance. ‘he daftodils bend and sway, seeming to beckon
one nearer, and the hospitable face of the old house wears the same
warm welcome it wore in colonial days.
Tuckahoe, which is today one of the best examples of the
colonial plantation left in America, was founded in 1674 by Wil¬
liam Randolph, of Turkey Island, for his second son, Thomas.
The acreage contained originally in the estate has been placed as