494 INDIANA HISTORICAL COLLECTIONS 



mediately in front, is a terraced garden of fruits and 

 flowers, and grassy banks ; and a little lower down, a full 

 supply of esculents for the table. Here the fig ripens its 

 luscious sweetness, and the peach gives its subacid good- 

 ness in great perfection. The carriage approach is from 

 the rear, or rather the landward front, through a park of 

 noble old trees, green grass, and hedges. There is one 

 thing about this entrance which I wonder is not more 

 common. A neat lodge stands by the outer gate, the resi- 

 dence of one of the house servants, and some of the chil- 

 dren are always on hand to open and close it when passed 

 by resident or stranger. The house itself is not extraor- 

 dinary in its dimensions, nor grandeur of appearance ; but 

 it is sufficiently roomy, and is one of that class of old- 

 time dwellings whose walls are as substantial as the hos- 

 pitality which welcomes the stranger within. 



Through the centre, runs a broad hall, big enough to 

 parade a militia company ; upon the right, are two parlors 

 large enough to entertain another ; upon the left, a dining 

 room and sitting room, and between them a heavy wain- 

 scotted and balustered, deep-worn staircase, and a passage 

 out upon the gallery of the wing, leading to the store 

 rooms and kitchen. Of course, there is a gallery, or colon- 

 nade, upon the river front, for what finished southern 

 house ever lacked this ornamental appendage? 



The present proprietor, colonel Robert W. Carter, is a 

 descendant of one of the oldest and most wealthy families 

 in the state, and almost the only one upon the northern 

 neck of Virginia, where the name was once great among 

 the great names of that region. 



Like many other countries which depend upon a single 

 staple crop, this sunk into a state of unproductiveness, 

 after its staple, tobacco, failed to remunerate the culti- 

 vator. Lands which once gave forth golden harvests, 

 returned to a state of wooded wildness. A hundred years 

 works wondrous changes. Old walls of extensive man- 

 sions, seen through avenues of old trees ; fine old churches, 

 dilapidated, though yet strong in their old age, speak of 



