Celebrating the holidays colonial-style in Williamsburg

Now returning to the living-history museum nearly 15 years later, I was happy to discover that the appearance of the property was almost exactly the way I remembered. Colonial Williamsburg Foundation’s commitment to authenticity extends from 18th century construction practices down to the fabrication of the interpreters’ shoes. It seems that no details are overlooked, not even the paint recipes.

With the late-summer-like weather, I opted to spend my time almost entirely on foot with my camera in hand, only stopping once to eat a tasty ham sandwich at The Cheese Shop in Merchants Square. As I was standing before the opulent Governor’s Palace, a horse-drawn carriage fled by, directed by a tricorn-hatted man who appeared to be running late for a party. For a moment I felt out of place, as though I’d stumbled into a foreign country wearing an inappropriate combination of a t-shirt and jeans. Later, during my search to find the first home that decorated a Christmas tree, a farmer looked at me oddly when I politely asked if I could take a picture of him arranging wreaths for sale at the market. After a pause he replied, “Of course!” It seems that the living aspect of the living-history museum was a concept that took awhile to truly sink in. My guide explained that the impersonators take their roles just as seriously as the Foundation’s attention to detail. This commitment to authenticity might explain why I was subconsciously convinced that I was the one that was out of place, not the petticoat-clad ladies selling handmade gifts.

While revisiting the demonstrations with a more observant eye was a goal, during my time in town I was keen on scoping out the holiday decorations. I learned that decor must be created using materials that would have been available during the period. In place of blinking string lights, the houses and stores are modestly adorned with pine roping, fruit and wreaths. The church was disappointingly barren of exterior décor, which my guide later explained was true to the period. In contrast, I spent a solid 10 minutes trying to capture the beautiful apple-coated wreath at the Wythe House and another 15 doting on a giant maroon and orange wreath hanging from the eave of the Courthouse. As I walked the length of Gloucester Street, the air filled with the smell of pine and evergreen. It was peaceful and beautiful.