Pomfret Manor--named after the village of Pomfret in Dorsetshire, from which my great-grandfather, Simon Bampfyld, had removed to Virginia in the days of King Charles the Second--was the principal house in the lordship or hundred of Pomfret, as 'twas called in English fashion (of which fashions we colonists were always very tenacious), and, as we had thriven exceedingly since first we came, it also gave its name to the village hard by. Now, my great-grandfather having brought considerable money with him from home, had soon become one of the leading colonists, as well as one of the richest, in the neighbourhood. The house itself had once stood in Dorsetshire, and had been taken to pieces there and removed bit by bit to Virginia, as is the case with many other mansions to be found in the colonies. So the dear place in which I was born had seen the birth of many other Bampfylds before me when it existed in England, and was consequently much beloved by us. Constructed of the old red English bricks, with, for its front, a vast portico with columns of white stone, it made a pleasant feature in the landscape, while, with careful training, we had produced a smooth lawn which ran down almost to the banks of the river, and, on either side of it, we had contrived a sweet pleasaunce, or garden. Here there grew amidst the rich Virginian vegetation such flowers--recalling my ancestor's earlier house across the seas--as roses of all kinds, including the Syrian damask and the white alba; here, too, sparkled the calendula, or marigold, and there the wall-flower; while beds of pinks, or, as the flower was called in old days, the Dianthus, added to the patches of colour. Over our big porch, so cool to sit in on the hot days, there grew also the native creepers mingling with the yellow jasmine--a world of gorgeous flowers in the summer and of warm red leaves in the autumn--in which the oriole, or golden thrush, would nestle and rear its young. In the rear of the house was yet another lawn, or plantation, whereon we sat in the summer under the catalpa trees when 'twas too hot to be in the front; where the pigeons cooed from their cote and the cattle munched the soft grass, while, from their kennels, the mastiffs, used for fighting, or, better still, frightening the Indians who could not face them, and for tracing runaway negroes, would be heard baying. Around the grounds came next the belts of pines which were cultivated largely, both for firing and for the making of much household furniture; beyond them were the plantations of tobacco and of rice, which latter had by so fortunate a chance been introduced to our immediate colonies some thirty years ago.