Mrs. Mottrom probably did not accompany her husband to Jamestown because in that same year a baby was born at Coan Hall.

What a time that must have been in the wilderness household--the little indentured English maids scurrying about with wooden pails of steaming water, perhaps, and the curtains all drawn about the great bed, and John Mottrom pacing the floor no doubt like any modern father-to-be!

Frances Mottrom, for thus she was christened, may have been the first white baby to have been born in the Northern Neck.

The neighbors doubtless came to Coan Hall for a christening for it is a matter of record that Colonel William Presley's wife was named as the child's godmother. There must have been great cheer at the manor on that occasion, and many toasts drunk from the same tankard. Maybe a whole horn of metheglin was passed around in true medieval fashion to "speed the parting guests."

Frances probably lay in a wooden cradle with high paneled sides to keep out draughts. Its logical place was near the fireplace where she would be warm. She was doubtless clothed in white linen exquisitely embroidered and made. Perhaps her six-year-old sister Anne rocked the cradle now and then as she played around the floor, and little John Mottrom may have peered into its shadows to look at her face.

Among the first sounds that Frances knew were no doubt the ringing of the axes in the forest from sunrise until sunset in winter, and at night the howling of the wolves in the forest. The first light that she remembered was probably the firelight and the light from pine-knot or candle, or daylight filtered through diamond-paned windows of greenish glass or oiled paper.

One of the first familiar faces may have been that of her father's friend, Marshvwap, King of Chickacoan.

Frances must have been a sturdy baby to have survived the cold, heat, fevers, and all the other hazards to child-life in the seventeenth century.

When Frances was old enough to toddle about, Anne and John may have played a game with her called "honey-pots," in which they carried her about in a "chair" made by crossing hands, while they chanted:

"Carry your honey-pot safe and sound Or it will fall upon the ground."

A little later they may have jumped a hop-scotch, but if so, they called it "scotch-hoppers." They probably played tag, ball, prisoner's base, asked riddles and blew soap-bubbles, as these simple amusements dated from medieval days.

Children of the seventeenth century played games but had few toys. There may have been a top to spin, and John probably played Indian with bow and arrow and club. Anne, who had been born in England, may have brought with her to the New World a stiff little puppet-like doll with a wooden face and painted hair. Frances may have had a doll made of corn-shucks, rags, corn-cobs or nuts. Or she may have had a doll like those of the Indian children, made of rawhide, feathers and wood.

The Mottrom children may have had wild animals for pets--a deer, a squirrel, or a raccoon, perhaps. The children could not venture far into the forest to play because of the dangers that lurked in its depths, but they could stand at its edge and look down the aisles between the trees, some of them "twenty feet round and Ninety high." In spring and summer the forest floor was "bespred with divers flowers" and wild strawberries. In winter they might glimpse a snowshoe rabbit flying over the snow, or a herd of deer. We can imagine them there--three little figures dressed in long clothes, exactly like those of their parents, looking into the forest and pondering upon its mysteries.

When Frances was nine years old, Colonel William Presley presented her with "one cow calfe ... she being my wife's God daughter." This was great potential wealth for a little girl! A cow over three years old was at that time worth exactly the same as one hundred acres of land.

Frances probably thought of the "cow calfe" only in terms of milk and butter and future cakes that might be baked. She may have named the calf Pansy, Daisy, Cinnamon or Nutmeg, as such names were then popular for cows.

As Frances grew older there was little time for play. The Mottrom household was doubtless astir by daybreak. We can picture the sleepy child pushing aside the heavy red or green curtains of linsey-woolsey that surrounded her bed, or if it was summer, the hangings of "muskitoe"

net.

Her toilet equipment was no doubt simple--a basin and ewer, and a "pot de chambre," all of pewter. She may have owned a gilded hand looking-glass and a comb of ivory or horn. She washed her face with home-made soap which may have been soft or, more likely, a hard green soap made from the berries of "sweet myrtle."

Frances' clothes were probably kept in a "case of drawers." Her everyday dress was perhaps of blue holland, but for special occasions she wore silk or brocade. In either case the skirt was full and long. Over this she wore a white linen apron with bib, and on her head a close-fitting cap of white linen. The latter was always worn by little children at that time, and sometimes the cap was beautifully embroidered. When Frances went out-of-doors she probably wore a loose silken hood over the cap.

Her hair, if she was fashionable, was cut in bangs across her forehead with long flowing locks in front dropping forward on her chest. Her back hair was stuffed out of sight in the cap.

After she had dressed Frances probably ate a simple breakfast of porridge from a wooden bowl with a pewter spoon. Anne and John probably ate their breakfasts from the same bowl with their pewter spoons.

Lessons may have come next. Education was simple then, especially for girls--"bookes to bee learned of children" were "abcies" and primers, then the Psalms in metre, then the Testament. Frances' teacher may have been her mother or an indentured servant.

Little girls were taught to knit as soon as they could hold the needles.

Frances probably knitted stockings and mittens when she was four or five years old. Children also made quilt-pieces. Girls did household chores and learned early the duties of a housewife.

Anne was old enough now to embroider the family coat-of-arms, or to paint it on glass in rich colors. Young girls in the families of seventeenth century gentlefolk spent much time in the study of heraldry.

Frances may have been taught to play a musical instrument--the hand lyre, hautboy or virginal. The latter was most commonly used by young girls, from which its name was derived. It was a small rectangular spinet without legs.

John may have played the flute. We can imagine him earnestly playing for guests at Coan Hall, dressed in his best, which probably would have been a dark suit with a white square collar, the pants ending in light-colored ruffles that fell over his boottops. From under his wide-brimmed hat, which he would wear indoors on such occasions, his hair probably fell to his shoulders, with bangs on his forehead.

It is safe in assuming that the Mottrom children looked forward to guests for they doubtless liked to listen to the talk around the fireplace. Here the men discussed taxes, the colonial government, the English King and his followers who were called Cavaliers. They talked of witchcraft, ghosts, wolves, Indians and the Assembly at "James Citie."

Did all this talk make little Frances long to visit Jamestown and see the fine ladies who came from their plantations with their husbands at the time of the Assemblies? If so, her dream was one day to come true.

She would not only visit Jamestown and see the ladies in their silks and satins but she would be one of them. For Frances Mottrom was destined to leave her wilderness home some day and become the first lady not only of Jamestown, but of the whole Colony of Virginia.

_FOREVER LOST_

Although John Mottrom was recognized at Jamestown in the Assembly of November 20, 1645 as a Burgess from the "Plantation of Northumberland,"

Chicacoan was not established as a county and the order concerning taxes was not changed. The settlers continued to ignore the order and went on living as usual in their independent way.

In 1647, the Assembly passed another act for the "reducing of the inhabitants of Chicacoan and the other parts of the Neck of Land between the Rappahannock and the Potomack River."

This must have been an unhappy and unsettled time at Chicacoan, but in some way a compromise was reached the following year. In 1648, the Assembly repealed the act for "reducing the inhabitants of Chicacoan,"

and enacted instead that "the said tract of land be hereafter called and knowne by the name of the Countie of Northumberland and from henceforth they have power of electing Burgesses for the said county."

The settlers of the Northern Neck had now gained representation in the colonial government but the price they were forced to pay for it was dear--their tax-free paradise was forever lost.

_URSULA_

John Mottrom's wife may ever remain a mystery. There seems to be no clue to her personality, no facts that would make her into a flesh and blood woman. Even her name is unknown. She was John Mottrom's wife and the mother of his three children, Anne, John and Frances. The records disclose not even a crumb more.

Between the years 1645 and 1655 Mrs. Mottrom passed away. She may have died in childbirth when Frances was born, or shortly thereafter. It was after her death that Ursula came into the life of John Mottrom.

Ursula Bish Thompson had been among the refugees who fled to Coan from the "Citie of St. Mary's." Her husband, Richard Thompson, was now dead.

A young widow's position in a frontier community was dangerous and insecure and quick remarriages were a practical necessity. John Mottrom, the widower, was in urgent need of someone to look after his children and home. Ursula and John were married.

Ursula probably brought the Thompson children with her to live at Coan Hall. Colonial households more often than not included several groups of children by former marriages.

Ursula's name reveals the fact that she was British, named perhaps for the martyred princess, St. Ursula. The facts of her later career assure us that she was a healthy and attractive woman.

As the wife of a prominent man of the colony it was Ursula's duty to hold to the high standard of living that had been transferred from England to this wilderness, and to maintain this standard it was necessary for all to work from morning until night.

Ursula doubtless loved the gay rich clothes that were so fashionable at this period. Her wardrobe may have included a pair of scarlet sleeves, a petticoat of flowered tabby and several pairs of green stockings.

We can imagine Ursula hustling about at Coan Hall, her clothes a blur of brightness, as she supervised the servants, disciplined the children, twirled the roast of venison on the spit in passing, or lowered her candle or betty-lamp into the cooking pot to see if the stew was ready.

The rooms of Coan Hall were probably part "waynscot" and part "daubed and whitelimed," the latter plaster being made from the plentiful oyster shells. The woodwork may have been painted "deep blued olive green" or "dragon's blood."

The rooms of seventeenth century houses were usually identified by names, such as "the outward," "the lodging," "the chamber," and so on.

The kitchen and pantry were probably detached or in a wing. This was the busiest and coziest spot in all early homes, and the hearth was its glowing heart. There were the fire-dogs holding the big logs and the little andirons used with them called "creepers." On pothooks and trammels hung the brass and copper kettles, some with a fifteen gallon capacity, and that most beloved pot of iron, which sometimes weighed as much as forty pounds. In summer when a large part of the cooking was done out-of-doors this iron kettle was the main utensil used.

A boiler of copper and brass may have been imbedded in brick and mortar and heated from beneath for the purpose of brewing the ale that was so necessary to a transplanted Englishman.

When the chimney was built there was usually a brick oven on one side.

This oven was as a rule heated once a week. Convenient to the oven was a long-handled shovel called a peel, which was used for placing the dough in the oven, or for tossing it on cabbage or oak leaves which were often used instead of pans.