Early in 1958, in an act of unaccustomed benevolence, the army sent me to Fort Monroe, Virginia, near the mouth of Hampton Roads, and assigned me to a job for which I was actually qualified: writing speeches and doing other quasiliterary chores for high-ranking officers. Weekends I roamed, discovering Civil War battlefields, soft-shell crabs from Chesapeake Bay, the dulcet charms of Southern women, Jeffersonian architecture and the flower-filled glory of springtime in the Old Dominion.
In the years since, I have basked in the magnificent displays of rhododendrons in Oregon, roses in England, tulips in Holland, orchids in Singapore and proteas in South Africa. Gardens have become one of the great pleasures of my life. But nothing beats and few things equal the spectacular show that unfolds every year as winter relaxes its none-too-powerful grip on Virginia.
Late in March and early in April, softly nodding daffodils bloom all across Gloucester County, which lies on a long, narrow neck of land in the eastern part of the state, stretching out into the Chesapeake between the York and Rappahannock rivers. They have been grown in that area's ideal soil and climate since the 1650s, first in orderly beds, then wild in untended blankets of gold and finally in the fields of big commercial bulb merchants. They are Virginia's herald trumpets of spring.
Next, the trees begin doing their gorgeous thing. After the delicate star magnolias, which bloom so early that they are often nipped by lingering frost, come the gaudy purple-pink flowers of the redbuds, competing for attention with the Bradford pears, whose branches are laden with fragrant white flowers before their leaves appear. And then the dogwood, the state tree of Virginia, bursts into bloom, with its handsome blossoms, composed of four petal-like bracts, either pale pink or pure white.
"God's perfect trees," as my Virginia-born wife, Betsey, calls the dogwoods, flourish along highways and byways, at the edges of forests and in gardens both public and private. Rhododendrons abound in the Blue Ridge Mountains, camellias and azaleas daub yards in Norfolk with brassy colors, and come May, fragile apple blossoms adorn orchards near Winchester. For a few precious weeks, the state is a many-colored paradise.
That is the time to visit Charlottesville, Mr. Jefferson's town, one of the prettiest, pleasantest, most historically significant small cities in America. Perched amid the Piedmont's rolling hills, two-and-a-half hours southwest of Washington, Charlottesville (population 45,000) has attracted visitors since the early 19th century, when Thomas Jefferson, "the sage of Monticello," often received guests at his inventively designed Palladian mansion, Monticello. The curious keep coming, and a surprising number of them never leave—the kinds of people, as the WPA guide to Virginia commented in 1940, "who enjoy contemplation or working, not too hard, or simply good living."
Monticello, which is pictured on the reverse of the Jefferson nickel, remains the big draw. Built of red brick with snow-white wooden trim, the house stands behind an elegant Doric portico and is topped by an octagonal dome. It is the only American house to appear on UNESCO's list of World Heritage sites, and with good reason. From the outside, with the crests of the Blue Ridge in the distance, it seems much smaller than it actually is, and hence less grandiose, which must have pleased Jefferson. Its serene symmetry reflects the Enlightenment's love of balance.
But it is inside that Jefferson's architectural genius can be seen in full flower. The house is filled with dumbwaiters, innovative folding doors, windows that double as doors and a machine that writes in duplicate. Guides help bring the place to life, providing colorful details not only about Jefferson and his family but also about the 135 slaves who dwelt at Monticello.
Monticello is a country seat, like the other two presidential residences in the Charlottesville area: Ash Lawn–Highland, James Monroe's cozy frame house near Monticello, and Montpelier, James Madison's magnificently porticoed house in Orange County, which was modernized and greatly enlarged (but happily not spoiled) by the du Pont family early in the 20th century. The University of Virginia, on the other hand, is right in Charlottesville, at the west end of Main Street. The first secular college in America, it opened its doors in March 1825 with a modern curriculum, including economics, music and government, planned by Jefferson to advance his belief that "the diffusion of knowledge" is the essential foundation for "the preservation of freedom and happiness."
He conceived the campus as an "academical village" with ten classical revival pavilions, one for each professor's residence and classroom, flanking a long lawn. At one end, as a focal point, he placed a splendid rotunda inspired by the Pantheon, in Rome, that housed the library. A shallow portico six columns wide and three deep, with grand Corinthian capitals, faces the lawn. Having spoken there, I can testify that it is one of the more awe-inspiring settings in the United States.
Ranked today among the nation's top two or three public universities, U.Va. is noted for its law and medical schools in addition to the undergraduate college of arts and sciences, which operates according to a student-run honor system instituted in 1842. Almost 13,000 undergraduates are enrolled this year, and on weekends half of them seem to be milling through the funky shops along University Avenue, grabbing a Gusburger at the White Spot or downing a beer at Michael's Bistro and Taphouse.
Northeast of Charlottesville, one of Jefferson's most far-fetched dreams is coming true. The wine-loving former president's attempt to grow vinifera grapes failed, but at Barboursville Vineyards, in the shadow of a ruined house that he designed, others have succeeded. Luca Paschina, who came to the Piedmont from Piemonte, in northwestern Italy, manages the estate and makes its deservedly acclaimed Cabernet Franc. You can sample the wines in the vineyard's tasting room or at the excellent Palladio Restaurant, next door to it, while you gaze at the hypnotic Blue Ridge. But don't let anything distract you. Other places have beautiful vineyards and haunting mountains, but few can match the springtime blossoms of Virginia.
Where to Stay
The Boar's Head Inn offers a spa and sports facilities close to the university. Double rooms from $188 to $204, suites from $425. 800-476-1988; boarsheadinn.com.
The Clifton Inn, on the outskirts of town, was built by Jefferson's son-in-law and boasts a splendid wine cellar. It was recently renovated after a fire. Double rooms from $195 to $425, suites from $205 to $495. 888-971-1800; cliftoninn.com.
Keswick Hall is a grand Orient-Express hotel set on 600 acres in the hunt country east of town, with 48 lavish rooms. Double rooms from $465 to $670, suites from $725. 434-979-3440; 800-274-5391; 800-237-1236; keswick.com.
Where to Eat
In town, there are lots of good eats, at Oxo (French-influenced American), Bizou (bistro), Mono Loco (Latin American) and Hamiltons' at First & Main (new American, with an emphasis on regional ingredients). Tastings of Charlottesville, a wine shop and restaurant, has the largest stock of Virginia wines around, any of which you can sip (only a five-dollar corkage fee) with your meal.
Oxo: 215 W. Water St.; 434-977-8111. Bizou: 119 W. Main St.; 434-977-1818. Mono Loco: 200 W. Water St.; 434-979-0688. Hamiltons' at First & Main: 101 W. Main St.; 434-295-6649. Tastings of Charlottesville: 502 E. Market St.; 434-293-3663.
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