My photographer’s alarm rang at 6:00am on Tuesday May 18, 2021 and I was anxious to hit the road for two reasons: First, I knew I was headed for a tour of John Tyler’s ‘Sherwood Forest’; and this time the three of us were going inside. And the second reason was Tom and Bob were scheduled to be reunited with Colonel John Tayloe’s home Mt. Airy, as well as a couple of the Tayloe descendants, in the late afternoon. Once my companions had the Rogue re-packed, I was placed on the backseat and we headed for downtown Richmond, Virginia.
The first historic site on our agenda, which was the place where President John Tyler had died, was located roughly three blocks east of the Virginia State Capitol building. Once parked, I was stunned after Tom walked to the location and carefully pulled me out of the camera case – the site I saw in front of me was a four-story parking structure. One silly thought immediately popped into my resin-filled mind – did someone run-over the President while parking their carriage? It turned out that the parking facility had been built in the footprint of the Old Exchange Hotel, which had been demolished around the turn of the twentieth century.
When John Tyler dropped out of the 1844 Presidential election in favor of James K. Polk, he retired to his plantation near Charles City, Virginia that he renamed ‘Sherwood Forest’. Tyler remained retired until the outbreak of the Civil War, after which he was elected to the Provisional Confederate Congress where he served about six months. In November 1861, John Tyler was elected to the Confederate House of Representatives that was scheduled to meet for the first time the following February. But Tyler’s health, which never seemed to be great throughout his life, took a turn for the worst on January 12, 1862 while he and his wife resided at the Exchange Hotel in Richmond. Six days later, just after midnight on January 18th, John Tyler died at the age of 71 from a stroke in his hotel suite. Tyler was the only U.S. President to die outside of the United States as Richmond, in 1862, was the Capital of the Confederate States of America.
When we were finished at the Exchange Hotel site, the three of us traveled about ten blocks east where Tom parked the Rogue outside of the wall that protected historic St. John’s Church. That church was special in the eyes of my friends and I for its role in American independence and my photographer wanted me to pose for a few images in and around St. John’s. Not only was the rectory in the church the site where Patrick Henry declared “Give me Liberty, or give me death” on March 23, 1775; the churchyard was also where Declaration of Independence signatory George Wythe was laid to rest after his death in 1806. But that goal wouldn’t be realized on that day. Due to COVID restrictions, every gate to the historic churchyard was locked tight. Mongo, with his pure strength and agility, was able to scale the gate and visit the grave of Wythe; while my photographer and I stayed in the SUV and waited his return.
Although I was cheated out of an opportunity to stand on the grave of George Wythe thanks to the pandemic, our next stop would prove to be redemption that was second-to-none. Once my photographer navigated our vehicle through downtown Richmond, we wound up at Hollywood Cemetery that was located in the Oregon Hill section of the Capital City. When I visited that huge burial ground in 2019, I posed for pictures at the graves of three Presidents – James Monroe, John Tyler, and Jefferson Davis. But on this trip, Tom added several other gravesites to the places we would stop at, including two Confederate generals, a survivor of the Titanic disaster, and a three-year old toddler who died of scarlet fever. We had no time to waste because we had an 11am tour scheduled at Sherwood Forest, which was 38 miles from Hollywood Cemetery. When we arrived at the entrance to the cemetery, which was given its name because of the numerous holly trees that dotted its hillsides, I heard Tom say to his friend: “We need to be on the road to Sherwood Forest no later than 10:15. That gives us 90 minutes to find all seven gravesites. That should be a piece of cake.”
Even with a map in hand that Mongo had purchased at the cemetery office, I began to laugh to myself when my photographer began to choke on his boastful piece of cake. Hollywood Cemetery consisted of 130 acres and there were over 60,000 graves located on its hallowed grounds. Although we needed to find only seven of the graves, of which three were ones we had visited before, that task proved to be a huge challenge – it took far longer than my friends had anticipated. Sit back, relax, and take a look at the gravesites we visited in historic Hollywood Cemetery.
After capturing his final images of me at the grave of Jefferson Davis, Tom checked the time of day on his cell phone – the digital read-out said 10:12. At that moment, I heard my photographer say to Bob: “Holy smokes, we’ve got to get out of here – if we can find our way out, that is. It’s nearly 40 miles to Sherwood Forest and we can’t be late.” The three of us scurried to the Rogue, while Tom did his best to get us out of the cemetery and on the road to Charles City. But since it seemingly took forever to get to the front gate and out of Hollywood Cemetery, then the unforeseen traffic issues we encountered leaving Richmond, I figured there was a chance we would miss our 11am tour of Sherwood Forest.
Tom’s cell phone rang at roughly 10:40; when Bob answered it, the voice on the other end was our tour guide at John Tyler’s home. “This is Tim at Sherwood Forest; are you still coming for the tour? Tom was supposed to call and let me know if everything was on schedule. We have two other couples here and if you’re coming, we’ll wait for you.” While it sounded as though Tim was angry at my companions, he calmed down when Mongo reassured him of our arrival time: “We didn’t realize we were supposed to call – we thought we were the only ones on the tour. Our GPS says our arrival time is 10:56 and we are only eight miles away. We’re hurrying as fast as we can – we ran into a bit of unexpected traffic.” When the three of us finally arrived at the entrance to our destination, the Rogue was kicking up gravel as Tom sped along the lengthy driveway and into the parking area. Once on foot, my photographer was out of breath as he tried to keep up with Bob – my companions walked as fast as they could towards the front porch of Sherwood Forest where the others waited for us. Upon our arrival where my friends tried to catch their breath, Tom said to the group as he checked the time on his phone: “Hey, we made it by a minute.” Tim shot back in a stern voice and said: “You’re lucky, you made it by thirty seconds. I hope you didn’t forget the bobble head.” In my mind, as I listened to the exchange from the camera case, thirty seconds early meant we weren’t late and there was no way my photographer would forget to bring me to the house. After all, we had advanced special permission for me to be photographed in an interior room of our choice – which was something that’s rarely done. There was one aspect of our visit, however, that was a huge disappointment to my photographer and me: We had hoped that Harrison Tyler, the President’s grandson, would be able to hold me for a photo. We were told that Mr. Tyler was 92 years old and was residing in an assisted-care facility in Richmond. In my mind, all we could do was wish Harrison Tyler the best of luck and hoped he received the greatest care available. Tom, Bob, and I were honored to visit his and his grandfather’s home.
The seven of us sat in chairs on the back porch of Sherwood Forest while Tim began by talking about the history of the place. The plantation house was built in 1790 and was named Walnut Grove. John Tyler bought the plantation in 1842 while serving as our 10th President and he lived there the rest of his life after leaving the White House. Upon purchase, Tyler renamed the plantation ‘Sherwood Forest’ as it signified he had been “outlawed” by the Whig Party and he felt like Robin Hood. With the additions that were made to the home by Tyler, it’s now considered the longest frame house in America; measuring just over the length of a football field at 301 feet. Once Tim had finished his spiel on the porch, our group was escorted into the home – and my eyes were wide open as I tried to find the best spot for Tom to place me for our one photo. Tim escorted our group from room to room; we walked in the footsteps and gazed at the same walls that John Tyler did for the last 20 years of his life. But it was at Sherwood Forest’s main staircase where my enthusiasm turned uncertain – for it was there that our guide talked about the infamous “Gray Lady”. For over a century, nearly every inhabitant of the home had seen or heard the resident ghost; she was either rocking in a chair with a child or just walking up or down the steps. As a matter of fact, a few years ago a permanent image had mysteriously appeared on the staircase wall that resembled a woman’s face – and I could see it as plain as day. In my mind, there was no way I was going to pose on those steps alongside that face. Our last area of the tour was in the “hyphen” that Tyler had built for the dance style of the era called the “Virginia reel”. When the hour-long tour was finished, the others left the house; which was the moment of truth for my picture. Tom discussed the possible rooms with Mongo and each had agreed the living room area seemed to be the best as it featured several artifacts that belonged to President Tyler. As an added bonus, there was a footrest that once belonged to Thomas Jefferson there as well. That was all I needed to hear – I was all in!
Words couldn’t describe the feeling I had during the few minutes that I stood on John Tyler’s table. I was so close to the President’s personal cigar box that I saw in my mind’s-eye Tyler’s hand reach to open it for one of the stogies inside. I was unsure if it had been Annique Dunning, or someone else, who made it possible for me to pose on that table; either way, I was incredibly thankful for the awesome experience.
We returned to the porch where our tour had first begun and much to our surprise we were given a bonus – Tim sat with the three of us and we discussed Sherwood Forest and John Tyler’s Presidency for nearly 45 minutes. It was cool to see that Tim had forgiven us for our earlier near-tardiness; as a matter of fact, he agreed to hold me while Tom captured an image of the two of us. Even though I wasn’t being held by Harrison Tyler; in my eyes, it was the next best thing. As soon as our discussion with Tim ended, my companions and I took another tour of the grounds. The only thing different from 2019 was the family’s calico cat didn’t follow us around the house.
Sherwood Forest was one of those places that any history fan or Presidential enthusiast should visit at least once in their life. For myself, Tom, and Bob, we’ve been there twice in the last two years and it might not be our final visit – providing the Tyler family continues to allow visitors onto their property and into their amazing home. It was hard to believe that we had been at Sherwood Forest for nearly three hours when we made the long walk back to the Rogue. But as thrilled as my photographer and Mongo were to get inside John Tyler’s home, they were twice as excited for their next stop – Colonel John Tayloe’s Mt. Airy Plantation near Warsaw, Virginia. I was looking forward to the next visit as well, but since it wasn’t a Presidential home, it would be hard for it to compare to Sherwood Forest – at least in my
blue-grey painted eyes.
It was 3:10pm when Tom pulled into the drive-thru at the Warsaw McDonald’s where he had a quick lunch. He also used that time to call the woman who made our Mt. Airy tour possible and let her know we had made it to the area. I knew that my photographer and Mongo were eager to see Anne Neuman again; after all, she used her pickup truck to drive the pair out to the Tayloe Family Cemetery during their 1991 Declaration of Independence Tour. The two key elements of the 30th reunion tour of Mt. Airy that would be missing was Anne’s daughter Mary; who lived in Richmond with her husband and kids and was too busy at work to meet with us and Anne’s mother Polly, who had passed away in 2011 at the age of 95. On this 2021 visit to Mt. Airy, however, Polly and Mary were replaced with Anne’s brother Gwynne Tayloe and a couple of Labrador Retrievers.
It was nearly 3:30 when Tom drove slowly on the long driveway that led up to the historic mansion. He was forced to drive slow as he didn’t want to raise up dust and draw shell fire, which was what a nearby sign that was posted onto a tree had warned. From the camera case on the back seat, I could easily tell by their conversation that this Mt. Airy visit meant a lot to my companions. When we pulled up near the back entrance of the historic Tayloe house, Tom and Bob were transported in time to their early 30s as the memories of their first visit had flooded back. I heard my photographer say to Bob as we got out of the car: “It was up on those steps that little Mary held my document and over there was where we saw Mrs. Tayloe and her daughter (Anne Emery) standing when we first arrived. It was as though I could still see Polly standing near the driveway with her white hair freshly coiffed from her visit to the beauty parlor earlier that morning.” It was absolutely cool that Anne and Gwynne were there to lead us around the west wing of the building, which gave the three of us a chance to hear about the history of the house and for Tom and Mongo to reminisce about their previous visit in ’91. To me, it was mind-boggling that both Anne and Gwynne were direct descendants of Colonel John Tayloe II, the planter and politician who had Mt. Airy built in 1764. The historic house has been in the Tayloe family since – including the current owners (Anne’s son) Tayloe Emery and his wife Catherine.
Since Anne had just returned from the eye doctor and her pupils were dilated, she stayed long enough to meet the three of us and pose for a photo with me; which was cool. Gwynne was an amazing tour guide; he led us to the front of the house before we made the long walk out to the family cemetery. In 1991, a herd of cattle had followed us to the cemetery while we rode in the back of Anne’s truck with Mary. There were no cows in 2021, although two labs followed us along the dirt pathway and into the wooded area where the cemetery was located. When we arrived at the Tayloe Family Cemetery, which was surrounded by a three-foot high brick wall, the four of us entered through the iron gates and we headed immediately to the graves of Francis Lightfoot Lee and his wife Rebecca.
When Tom placed me onto the flat stone that marked the grave of Francis Lightfoot Lee, I immediately thought about his contributions and the sacrifices he made to the formation of our country. Lee was a member of the Continental Congress from 1774 to 1779; when he signed the Declaration of Independence, he and his brother Richard Henry Lee were the only brothers to sign the document. In 1772, Francis married his second cousin Rebecca Tayloe; soon after their marriage, the couple moved into their newly built home they called Menokin, which was located roughly four miles from Mt. Airy and was the site we had visited two years earlier. Sadly, Francis died at Menokin on January 11, 1797 at the age of 62 – which was only four days after Rebecca passed away at the age of 44. While the Tayloe burial ground was filled with weeds and overgrowth, it wasn’t as terrible as it was in 1991 when Bob had to do some major landscaping to find Lee’s gravesite. When the three of us were finished paying our respects at the grave of Francis Lightfoot Lee, we walked to the opposite side of the burial ground to visit the final resting place of Polly Tayloe – the beautiful woman who generously invited Tom and Bob to her home in 1991.
Boy was I wrong! Earlier in the day as the three of us headed for Mt. Airy, I wasn’t nearly as excited for the stop as Tom and Bob were. After all, they had been talking about that historic home for 30 years and they’ve itched to get back there since. It was undoubtedly one of the top highlights of their 1991 Declaration of Independence Tour. But since the home or property didn’t have any association with any of the Presidents, I was just going through the motions during the visit – or at least that’s what I had first believed. Once Tom began to carry me around the property and out to the cemetery; and then as I posed with the amazing-yet-spooky-looking house, I was hooked. The Tayloe House was a true national treasure and it was an honor for me to have visited – I was just glad it was during the day.
My companion’s agenda had Mt. Airy listed as the final stop of the day, but since it was only 4:45pm and there was a lot of daylight left, Tom and Bob decided to “free-style” their way to Burnt House Field Cemetery and the grave of Declaration of Independence Signer Richard Henry Lee. After all, it was only 18 short miles from Mt. Airy and both guys had been there in 1991. How hard could it be to find? But even with their trusty GPS and Bob’s Rand McNally atlas in hand, my companions managed to get themselves lost when they got north of Hague, Virginia. We seemed to drive around in circles for nearly a half-hour before Tom and Bob finally found the remote burial place – and I could hear the relief in their voices when they saw it. They easily recognized it; Burnt House Field Cemetery hadn’t changed at all since my companions were there thirty years ago. From what I heard during our drive, those two had difficulty finding Lee’s grave back then as well – but in their defense, GPS hadn’t been invented yet.
The grave of Richard Henry Lee was inside the five-foot tall brick walls of Burnt House field Cemetery – which actually resembled a fortress in the middle of a wheat field. At one time, however, the burial place was alongside the Lee’s plantation house known as Machotick, which was where both Signer’s were born. Machotick burned down in 1729, giving the place its name. When we arrived at the Lee family cemetery, I heard my photographer say aloud: “I sure hope the gate is open – there’s no way I could climb over that wall. And if I did use the vehicle to get up and over, there’s now way I’d get back out.” Luckily for everyone concerned, the iron gate was open and Tom immediately placed me onto the flat, white marker that was imbedded into the brick floor.
Richard Henry Lee was one of the largest influences on American independence, but he’s hardly ever mentioned in the same breath with Hancock, Jefferson, Franklin, or Adams. But on June 7, 1776, Lee introduced a resolution for independence to Congress in Philadelphia. Richard Henry Lee stood up and in a loud and unwavering voice proclaimed: “That these United Colonies are, and of right out to be, free and independent States, that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved; that measures should be immediately taken for procuring the assistance of foreign powers, and a Confederation be formed to bind the colonies more closely together.” John Adams seconded the resolution and the revolutionary ball was rolling – less than a month later, the Declaration of Independence had been written and adopted.
For nearly all of his adult life, Richard Henry Lee served in public office. His services began as Justice of the Peace in 1757 when he 25 years old; he signed the Declaration of Independence at age 44 while a member of the Continental Congress; Lee was a United States Senator from Virginia when George Washington became President in 1789; and he finished his career as President pro tempure during the Second Congress in 1792. His rise to national prominence wasn’t deterred by the fact that he lost all four fingers on his left hand in 1768 from a hunting accident – he wore a black silk glove while in public to hide his disability. Worn, tired, and aged from a life of fighting for freedom, Richard Henry Lee died at his home ‘Chantilly’ on June 19, 1794. He was 62 years old at the time of his death; the same age as brother Francis Lightfoot Lee was when he died.
As I stood on the final resting place of Richard Henry Lee, I thought about the impact he had made on our country. Had it not been for George Washington’s popularity, I wondered if Lee may have been considered as our nation’s first President. There’s no doubt in my resin-filled mind that Richard Henry Lee should be mentioned when America’s freedom is ever discussed – alongside the household names of Jefferson, Adams, Franklin, Hancock, and Hamilton.
The clock neared six bells and it was time to find a place to stay close to our next day’s starting point – which was Port Royal, Virginia. Bob searched his on-line app and found a good rate at the Country Inn & Suites in Dahlgren, Virginia. Once we arrived at our hotel, Tom placed me in my usual place near the TV set after he and Bob lugged their gear to the room. It had been a long and exciting day – we had met some great people and saw some amazing sites. After my photographer wolfed-down some “authentic” Mexican food (Taco Bell), the lights went out at 9:00pm and I was alone with my thoughts. While Sherwood Forest and our time with Tim was awesome, I kept thinking about our experience with Gwynne Tayloe and his sister Anne at Mt. Airy. Such a family legacy at such an amazingly historic home – it couldn’t have gotten much better than that. But wait, there was one thing missing. I would’ve given anything to have met Georgie Wallace “Polly” Montague Tayloe – but in a small way, I think I did.
This post is dedicated to Anne Tayloe Neuman, Gwynne Tayloe, and of course, the incredible Polly Tayloe!
That was an incredible day! We really used every minute we had so that we could see all of these sites. Your photos turned out great. Thank you Tim, Anne and Gwynne for making this day so special!