This Book is Dedicated
To one who has not failed her friends, or her duty.
Who has given freely of her best.
Whose faith has not faltered, nor courage dimmed.
Who has held high her ideals; who has lighted
a pathway for those she loves.
To My Wife
Contents
| In The Older Days | [13] | |
| One by one the little cabins are built along the river bank | ||
| After the Revolution | [26] | |
| In the days of its glory, the Old Town was famed and prosperous | ||
| War’s Worst Horrors | [37] | |
| Shelled by 181 guns for hours, the town becomes a crumbled ruin | ||
| The First Battle | [48] | |
| When, at Marye’s Heights and Hamilton’s Crossing, war claimed her sacrifice | ||
| At Chancellorsville | [55] | |
| The Struggle in the Pine Woods when death struck at Southern hearts | ||
| Two Great Battles | [64] | |
| The fearful fire swept Wilderness, and the Bloody Angle at Spottsylvania | ||
| Heroes of Early Days | [70] | |
| The Old Town gives the first Commander, first Admiral and Great Citizens | ||
| Men of Modern Times | [98] | |
| Soldiers, Adventurers and Sailors, Heroes and Artists, mingle here | ||
| Unforgotten Women | [123] | |
| Some of Many Who Left a Record of Brilliancy, Service or Sacrifice | ||
| At the Rising Sun | [133] | |
| Where Famous Men Met; and Mine Host Brewed Punch and Sedition | ||
| Lafayette Comes Back | [139] | |
| After Forty Years of Failure, He Hears the Echo of His Youthful Triumph | ||
| Old Court Record | [142] | |
| Staid Documents, Writ by Hands That Are Still, Are History For Us | ||
| Echoes of the Past | [151] | |
| “Ghosts of Dead Hours, and Days That Once Were Fair” | ||
| Where Beauty Blends | [165] | |
| Old Gardens, at Old Mansions, Where Bloom Flowers from Long Ago | ||
| Church and School | [173] | |
| How They Grew in the New World; Pathways to the Light | ||
| The Church of England | [181] | |
| First in Virginia, the Church of England Has the Longest History | ||
| The 250th Birthday | [188] | |
| Fredericksburg Celebrates an Anniversary | ||
| Appendix | [199] |
FREDERICKSBURG
A Preface
Fredericksburg sprawls at the foot of the hills where the scented summer winds sweep over it out of the valley of brawling waters above. The grass grows lush in the meadows and tangles in the hills that almost surround it. In spring the flowers streak the lowlands, climb on the slopes, and along the ridges; and Autumn makes fair colors in the trees, shading them in blood crimson, weathered bronze, and the yellow of sunsets.