CHESTERTOWN, MD—After an absence of too many years, my Good Wife and our progeny are back in her hometown for a family reunion. As we crossed the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, my thoughts returned to my childhood crossings with my parents on the ferry. That pleasant travel interlude ended with the building of the first Bay Bridge in 1952, followed by the second span in 1972.
The first point of landing on the Eastern Shore is Kent Island, once a vast wilderness, whose colonists in the 1640s began emigrating to the Northern Neck. That influx caused the Virginia Grand Assembly, meeting at Jamestown on October 12, 1648, to establish a new county that they named Northumberland, stretching from the bay to a line drawn between the headwaters of the Potomac and Rappahannock rivers, in short, the entire Northern Neck.
Today, Kent Island gives the visitor the impression that the weight of the condominia, hotels, shopping centers and associated big-city modern trappings, will cause the island to sink. From there the road leads through the charming 18th-century village of Queenstown and on to Centreville, the seat of Queen Anne’s County, another burg with a delightful core, replete with 18th-century houses.
A few miles farther lies the bridge across the Chester River, into Kent County and the town that bears the river’s name. Over the years the historic center has been gentrified with boutiques, I dare not call them shops, and a wonderful mid-town park with a magnificent 19th-century cast iron, multi-tiered fountain.
Being here on a Saturday affords the advantage of walking through the weekly farmers market on two blocks of High Street, which is closed to traffic for the occasion. The market is a true farmers’ venture, offering fruits, vegetables and plants of numerous varieties sold by folks who have grown them from seed and are willing to discuss how to plant and raise them with prospective purchasers. Speaking with them is an educational experience, horticulturally, that is.
With the consent of my Good Wife, I bought some great lilies, and augmented by the encouragement of her sister, some specimen begonias. Unlike the time many years ago on a visit here when I purchased a few ducklings, and my Good Wife graciously held them on her lap for the return trip to the Northern Neck, I made certain that ample room existed in the back of the car for transporting the plants homeward.
Chestertown capitalizes on its waterfront with riverside parks and playgrounds abounding. The prime jewel of the waterfront, when it is in port, is the schooner Sultana. Over a quarter of a century ago, many residents of the town, my late father-in-law among them, banded together to construct a replica of an 18th-century sailing ship.
The project took three years to complete and the launching drew media attention from across the nation. The ship plies the waters of the Chester River and the bay, offering students, and older folks as well, the opportunity to see what nautical life was like two centuries ago. Unfortunately for us, the Sultana is away on one such mission this week.
A scenic, five-mile walking trail has replaced railroad tracks that once passed through the area. The trail gives Chestertown residents a free means of keeping in shape, a present that many of them accept with delight, walking or jogging to and fro. Visually, it provides an added treat in that it passes alongside some of the best gardens in the area.
The river, the town and the surrounding countryside complement the life we have in the Northern Neck. Being a native of Chestertown, my Good Wife eschews the term “come-here” regarding her passage to the Northern Neck. Instead, she calls herself a “brought-here.” When we come back to Chestertown, I understand the other side of the “brought-here” coin.
