Fredericksburg is My Favorite

In our last adventure of summer we drove to Fredericksburg today. It has such deep colonial roots, and it was the center of crucial Civil War battles. We walked its streets first before learning how it was devastated during the War. There are so many layers to this small town, and we will surely go back, so consider this the first installment. I really loved being there with my family. 

This was a little treat for our little A. She giggled to see her name on a sign.

Hugh Mercer was a good friend of George Washington's. 

He died at the Battle of Princeton during the Revolutionary War, sadly right in front of Washington.

 St. George's Church, hit no fewer than seventy-five times in the Battle of Fredericksburg. It served a military hospital, probably like most of the churches, for the dying and wounded. 

 It was at the Presbyterian Church below that Lee ordered Jackson to devise the strategy for the Battle of Fredericksburg. Next time I go back I'm going to take photos of all of the churches there. Standing on one corner I should see eight church towers in that small town. Amazing.

 We took the kids to see the Fredericksburg Battlefield Museum just a few blocks away where we enjoyed the exhibits for two minutes and then watched a movie about the battle. It was, of course, violent--one hundred thousand men died in this town.  Thirty-thousand alone died as they were mowed down by Confederate fire coming from the soldiers dug in behind this wall on the Sunken Road. 

As I heard D saying to a friend today it's strange that we can't solve our problems without sending a bunch of nineteen year old boys (and I'd add dads, uncles, brothers, and husbands to that list) to fight wars until one side outlasts the other. Going to these battlefields is certainly though-provoking that way.

In my tradition of finding at least one war hero to emulate, I found this memorial to this young confederate soldier so touching. Richard Kirkland is called the Angel of the Battlefield because as a private in the Confederate Army he jumped that rock wall to take canteen after canteen of water to injured Union soldiers lying in the field begging for water. Union soldiers held their fire, realizing that he was trying to help their comrades, his "enemies". I find it amazing that in such chaos and darkness that a heart can be full of compassion.

And on a lighter note, I hope our kids remember one day how we tailgated in the visitor center parking lot. (And, for that matter, I hope they remember every unconventional picnic we threw together for them.) I packed a few things before leaving home, stopped two blocks away for a couple missing items, and then realized we had everything but a knife to spread the PB&J. Good thing D found a random pair of scissors in the glove compartment--they worked perfectly for spreading peanut butter.