ough and picking up the luscious morsels thrown up by
the ploughshare. Sometimes we see fine Hereford cattle grazing in the
fields. Then come the reddest of red pigs feeding contentedly in big
fields of alfalfa. Once we pass a farmhouse with late-blooming yellow
roses climbing over the stone posts at the farm entrance. Once we see a
man ploughing in the fields with a mare, her mule baby running by her
side as she plods along. Near Madison Mills we cross the Rapidan river,
a rushing, yellow stream. As we near Culpeper the wooded country opens
out into a beautiful grazing region, the land rising and falling in long
undulations. Here and there in the great fields are clumps of trees
giving a park-like effect to the country. All this is very beautiful,
and one's joy would be undimmed were it not for the traces of the great
conflict of fifty years ago. We are coming now to the region of Cedar
Mountain which is locally known as Slaughter Mountain. Here is the site
of a bloody battle. The Confederates were intrenched in a position of
vantage on Cedar Mountain and the Unionists were advancing across the
fields and through the forest into a sort of basin below the mountain.
It is quite easy to understand the heavy slaughter of the Union troops;
for on both sides of the road, here and there in the fields, are stones
marking the spots where certain officers and certain groups of men fell.
Here is a stone near the road marking the spot where Colonel Winder of
the 72nd Pennsylvania fell as he was advancing.

As we see these stones the present peace and prosperity of these
rolling grass lands is emphasized by the bloody background of the past.

We stay in Culpeper at the old railway hotel, "The Waverly." In the
morning we drive about the rich country and are decided in our own minds
that if we wished to come to Virginia for a great grazing establishment,
this is the part of the country to which we should turn. We hear tales
of one farm where the owner has made seven cuttings of alfalfa in the
course of one year.

We make a hurried trip to the National Cemetery at Culpeper. 12,000
Union soldiers sleep in this cemetery; and Maine, Massachusetts, New
York, Ohio and Pennsylvania all have monuments to their dead. The
granite pillar of Pennsylvania, with its bronze tablets, keystone
shaped, is particularly fine. The noble inscription begins:
"Pennsylvania remembers with solemn pride her heroic dead who here
repose in known and unknown gr