
A Traditional Legacy | A Tale of Two Centuries
“If you’ve never been to Rose Hill, you’re missing out.” So I was told. By several people. Repeatedly. So I went. It was a Wednesday. Rose Hill greets you at the gates. Landscaped walkways welcome you and beckon you forward. Hundreds of years of hard work and talent and passion rest comfortably, as if they knew you were coming. Music and laughter chase each other through the front door of the main house. Incredible, stomach rallying smells escape kitchen windows. Rose Hill wants you to relax. Have a bite to eat. Something to drink. While the guitarist strums and sings, people pass around crab dip and hummus plates. Conversations about