There are two approaches to Red Hill, one
over the highlands, the other through the lowgrounds. The road
over the ridge, through the woods, leads to what appears to be
the front entrance, as the lawn on the north side is shady and in¬
viting, being rather densely planted with a row of cedars along the
fence, groups of spreading osage orange trees, several locusts, and
hedges of tree-box. But the red clay road, like a deep gash in the
hill from which the place was named, continues to the right and
follows the contour of the lawn, outlined by a hedge of Japan
quince, as far as the front gate, which faces south.
The grounds are not extensive and vehicles stop outside the
gates. Ihe front yard is as open to the sunlight as the rear is
shaded and secluded.
Leaving the road, one passes between two stone capped brick
posts set in the boxwood hedge which borders the lawn, to uphold
a wrought-iron gate. A few feet from this gate stands a sun dial
from which extends direct to the house a most remarkable maze
of box.
In front of the house, towards the east, in one of the circles
formed by the tree-box hedge, is a large, scraggly, old locust tree.
There was once another on the west under which it is said Patrick
Henry sat, on a summer day, with a can of water from a "cool
spring’ and a gourd, playing his fiddle and enjoying the view of
the valley to the south. A large cedar and a pear tree are the only
other trees on the front lawn.