The storm had subsided, the clouds had dispersed, and the sun and air were as genial to the feelings as a day in mid-May. Bright and beautiful, also, was the Sabbath; but when I left Richmond for Charles City and old Jamestown on Monday morning, every thing was draped in a thick vapor which had arisen from the river during the night. I had scarcely left the suburban village of Powhatan, and turned my horse's head toward the open country, when
"That sea of vapor
Parted away, and, melting into air,
Rose round me, and I stood involved in light,
As if a flame had kindled up, and wrapp'd me
In its innocuous blaze."—Percival.
The sun came forth brilliant and warm, and for an hour I could trace the sinuous course
Appearance of the Country below Richmond. Westover. Colonel Byrd. Birth-place of President Harrison
of the James River by the line of the white vapor which stretched away, far southward, like a huge serpent measuring its mighty length over the land.
Before leaving Richmond, I endeavored to ascertain the exact location of Westover, the famous estate of Colonel Byrd, and memorable as the landing-place of Arnold's troops. I could not learn its relative position in distance from the direct road to Charles City courthouse, the goal of my first day's journey, and I thought I should pass it by unvisited. After leaving Richmond a few miles, the hilly country disappeared, and there spread out a level or gently rolling region, bearing extensive pine forests, which inclose quite large plantations. I dined in my wagon upon cold turkey and biscuit, furnished by my kind friend, Mrs. G., of Richmond, after giving Charley a lunch of meal and water, by the side of a small stream in the way. The day was very warm ***—-too warm to ride comfortably a Dec. 18, 1848 with an overcoat. Not suspecting that I might diverge into a wrong road by one of the numerous forks which characterize the highway, I allowed Charley to jog on leisurely, and with a loose rein, while I gave myself up to contemplation, which was occasionally interrupted by a passing regret that I was obliged to forego the pleasure of visiting Westover.