Living history
Berkeley is a working plantation as well as a tourist attraction

By Rod Blecher
for Virginia Business
August 2006

Malcolm Jamieson looks out over the slow-moving waters of the James River in the late afternoon, a cool, thick, green carpet of lawn under his work boots. He regards the reddening sky and the coming of the night from the same spot his father and his grandfather did; and with the same comforting knowledge that this is his land, historic Berkeley Plantation.

There’s a sense of peaceful isolation on the grounds of Berkeley this late in the day. The 1,000-acre estate usually bustles with tourists. In fact, 40,000 to 70,000 visitors come to the estate each year, paying $6 to $11 per person to tour the grounds.

Besides the tours, weddings are held at Berkeley — usually at least one a weekend. Jamieson charges $1,500 to $2,500 per wedding, depending on the season. Earlier this particular afternoon Jamieson — dressed for his day job as a farmer and groundsman on the estate — escorted a young bride to the location on the grounds where her wedding will take place.
“ Oh my goodness,” the 61 year-old Jamieson exclaimed to the beaming girl. “You look beautiful!”

Berkeley, in Charles City County, has been in the Jamieson family for close to a century. But it has a rich history far beyond that. Settled in 1619, the land was the fifth English settlement in Virginia after Jamestown. It served as the location of the first Thanksgiving celebration in the New World; one year and 17 days before the Pilgrims arrived in New England.

Berkeley was home to eight generations of the Harrison family, which includes one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence (Benjamin Harrison) and two presidents of the United States (Harrison’s son, William Henry Harrison, and great-grandson, Benjamin Harrison). During the Civil War, the plantation was used as a staging ground for 140,000 Union soldiers under Gen. George McClellan.

Berkeley became the Jamieson family home in 1907 when Jamieson’s grandfather, John, purchased the property. John Jamieson had been a drummer boy with McClellan’s army during the Civil War when it camped on the land.

History is thick in the warm air here, but this is no museum or re-enactment park. “This place has been a working plantation since 1619 and it still is today,” Jamieson says. “I usually work here about six days a week … 12 hours a day.”

While King Tobacco was once the land’s main cash crop, today Jamieson, his farm manager and a lone farmhand tend 500 acres of soybeans and corn on the estate. It’s a living, but not an easy one.

“ It’s a struggle,” Jamieson says. “We barely break even. When my parents died the estate was taxed very heavily. Any profits we do make go back into restoration and upkeep.”

It’s one of the paradoxes of calling a vast historical estate your home, Jamieson says. Everyone thinks you must be a millionaire to live in a place like this — but sometimes you only get taxed like a millionaire, he adds.

Jamieson’s grandfather made his fortune up north after the Civil War. He and his family owned a fleet of tugboats and went into the dock-building business. He originally purchased Berkeley for the vast timber it had then. Jamieson’s father, also named Malcolm, spent many summers camping on the estate which was in total disarray after 75 years of neglect. He fell in love with the place despite its squalid state. The beautiful main house, built in 1726, was falling apart and being used to store grain.

When Jamieson’s grandfather died in 1927, his son requested Berkeley Plantation as his portion of the family inheritance. “My dad’s relatives told him he was crazy,” recalls Jamieson.

In 1933, Jamieson’s father married Grace Eggleston. The young couple settled on the estate and began to restore the home and grounds. It was a lifelong project. The couple lived on the estate until their deaths in the late 1990s.

“My mom and dad did all the restorations,” Jamieson says. “It was a labor of love for them. They did all of it with money they made from farming. They never took any state or federal money.”

Jamieson’s memories of growing up on the plantation are as vivid and bright as the sun sparkling off the James. He likens his childhood to a kind of Huckleberry Finn existence. “I remember driving a tractor when I was seven,” he says. “I spent lots of time with the farmhands and with my dad. He never took a vacation in his whole life. I remember being on the river in flat-bottom boats with cane poles. I remember fishing, lots of fishing with my dad.”

Jamieson has created memories of Berkeley with his own children, Cary and Malcolm, who goes by “Mac” to avoid confusion with his dad. Jamieson says his children share the special bond with the estate on which they grew up.

“ Mac works in Richmond,” he explains, “but he lives here. He used to say it was a long commute, but it was worth it when he would bring his dates home.” However, Mac’s dating days are behind him now. He’s preparing to wed this October. The ceremony will, of course, be held at Berkeley.
Jamieson’s daughter, Cary, works for the University of Richmond’s Continuing Education Program in Horticulture as the liaison for the Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden in Richmond.

Running a historic estate isn’t cheap. The family used the profits from a tree nursery business to put Mac and Cary through school. The plantation grounds also have been used as locations in films and television shows and are available for corporate events. While the exact amount of money it takes to run Berkley varies from year to year, Jamieson says this year has been a lean one because of the high cost of gasoline.

Even with the efforts his family home requires, Jamieson wouldn’t have it any other way. “When you see people touring the grounds and they thank you for giving them a chance to experience the history and the beauty here, you really get it. It’s a terrific feeling and it makes all of it worthwhile.”

There are only a handful of historic estates in the U.S. that are family run, maybe 20, Jamieson estimates. Most historical homes are in the hands of foundations or trusts.

“ I don’t think a foundation would handle it as well,” he says. “No one else is going to treat it like family.”