Memoirs of Lloyd Moss: 1910 - 1914
When I was six once of my first chores, morning and evening, was to go to the pasture, open the gate, drive the cows out into the road and along it for 200 yards, then up our laneway to the cow stable for milking. That was fairly easy except when there were animals such as heifers and steers that had to be separated and prevented from leaving the pasture with the milk cows. Once when I was doing the separating, a half-grown bull calf suddenly turned on me and I had to run very fast and roll under the barbed-wire fence to get away from him. Another time a blue racer snake came out of the blackberry bushes right after me instead of slithering in the other direction as they normally did. I left there so fast that I never knew how close it got before I was out of sight.
It's quite evident from my use of the Richmond-Newport News Road as part of the cattle lane between pasture and barn that the traffic on it was not very great. Of course all the roads then were just plain dirt and in the spring the wagons sunk down to their hubs in the low spots. Some events that took place stand out in my memory. Once, in summer, a long line of gipsy wagons hung with all their colorful paraphanalia went past. Another time a farmer went by on a huge red tractor. He was bringing it from the railroad station where he had unloaded it from a flat car, and was slowly rolling toward his farm down south of us. He wasn't alone on his trip as there must have been thirty men and boys walking along beside it admiring the marvelous new invention.
One spring the circus came to Williamsburg. It unloaded at the railroad station, formed up a parade with all the brilliantly painted wagons, elephants, camels, and a steam calliope bringing up the rear. It went down Lafayette Street, turned right on Walter Street, then right again up Duke of Gloucester Street to the tent area north of the college. The impression that that magnificent display made on my six-year-old mind makes all the latter day shows pale by comparison. Father took us to see the main performance too, of course.
Easily the most notable event that happened in Williamsburg was the two successive summers when the Chautauqua set up its tents on Market Square for two weeks. Rather than give an inadequate description of the institution of the Chautauqua (established in 1874) and all that it meant to rural communities in the early days of the century I would refer you too books that have been written about the subject. It is enough to say that through this medium we, in that little backwoods town, saw some of the finest attractions of the day. We were entertained by John Philip Sousa's band and Victor's band, heard such orators as William Jennings Bryan giving his "Cross of Gold" speech, and the widow of General Pickett telling about the Civil War. Many of the most popular plays of the day were given by Broadway actors, and all sorts of novel programs concerning religion, music, art, journalism, politics and world affairs were given under Chatauqua tents. It's incredible to think back now to all that taking place in dusty, old Williamsburg many years before radio and television. The last Chautauqua show that I saw was in Cheshire, Connecticut in 1922, but its importance had dwindled very sadly by that year.