This historic stone, near the parlor window, was only an ugly, dark, broad, flat stone, but imagination pictured ever around it the Indian group, Smith's head upon it, the infuriated chief with uplifted club in the act of dealing the death-blow, the grief and shriek of Pocahontas as she threw herself upon Smith, imploring her father to spare him,--a piercing cry to have penetrated the heart of the savage chief! Looking out from the parlor window and imagining this savage scene, how strange a contrast met the eye within! Around the fireside assembled the loveliest family group, where kindness and affection beamed in every eye, and father, mother, brothers, and sisters were linked together by tenderest devotion and sympathy. If natural scenery reflects itself upon the heart, no wonder a "holy calm" rested upon this family, for far down the river the prospect was peace and tranquillity; and many an evening in the summer-house on the river bank we drank in the beauty of soft blue skies, green isles, and white sails floating in the distance. Many in Richmond remember the delightful weddings and parties at Powhatan Seat, where assembled the _élite_ from Richmond, with an innumerable throng of cousins, aunts, and uncles from Orange and Culpeper counties. On these occasions the house was illuminated by wax lights issuing from bouquets of magnolia leaves placed around the walls near the ceiling, and looking prettier than any glass chandelier. We, from a distance, generally stayed a week after the wedding, becoming, as it were, a part of the family circle; and the bride did not rush off on a tour as is the fashion nowadays, but remained quietly at home, enjoying the society of her family and friends. One feature I have omitted in describing our weddings and parties--invariably a part of the picture--was the sea of black faces surrounding the doors and windows to look on the dancing, hear the music, and afterward get a good share of the supper. Tourists often went to walk around the beautiful grounds at Powhatan--so neatly kept with sea-shells around the flowers, and pleasant seats under the lindens and magnolias--and to see the historic stone; but I often thought they knew not what was missed in not knowing, as we did, the lovely family within. But, for us, those rare, beautiful days at Powhatan are gone forever; for since the war the property has passed into strange hands, and the family who once owned it will own it no more. During the late war heavy guns were placed in the family burying-ground on this plantation--a point commanding the river; and here was interred the child of a distinguished general[16] in the Northern army--a Virginian, formerly in the United States army--who had married a member of the Powhatan family. He was expected to make an attack upon Richmond, and over his child's grave was placed a gun to fire upon him. Such are the unnatural incidents of civil war. [16] General Scott.