Racially restrictive covenants were used in Fredericksburg, Virginia, to enforce housing segregation in the early to mid-twentieth century. From 1919 to 1964, developers wrote over a thousand land deeds with restrictive language, reinventing the racial landscape of Fredericksburg. These land deeds were seen as private contracts that could be enforced through local courts; civil rights legislation initially did not apply to them. Other cities, such as Alexandria, had begun to use racial covenants at least a decade earlier, setting the standard for Virginia. Virginia was also not alone; the use of racial covenants in the early twentieth century can be found through the entire country. For Fredericksburg, racial covenants manipulated local demographics in the early-to-mid twentieth century, which continues to affect neighborhoods today.
Following World War I, Fredericksburg was eager to reshape its identity, and the use of segregationist tools helped to present the city’s new subdivisions as modern. Fredericksburg expanded westward, with white-only subdivisions creating a barrier to limit non-white property ownership. The first recorded covenant in the city appeared in a 1919 deed for the Fairview subdivision, located to the southwest of downtown Fredericksburg, near the National Cemetery.1 Alvin T. and Lila E. Embrey, Fairview’s developers and influential members of the local elite, reflected a nationwide shift among developers after World War I. In Buchanan v. Warley (1917), the U.S. Supreme Court had decided that local and state governments, as entities that served the public, could not establish segregation districts to define where non-white and white residents could live.2 Racial covenants in land deeds, however, were deemed to be private contracts not held to the same legal requirements; they became a popular segregationist tool. A month after Fairview’s first sale, Frank and Florence Day began selling lots with racially restrictive language in the new College Terrace subdivision. Unlike the Embreys, who were deeply involved in Fredericksburg’s real estate development, the Days were outside investors from Ashland, Virginia where Frank Day taught at Randolph-Macon College. These initial segregated subdivisions established the western edge of the city’s early expansion, which included the Fredericksburg Teachers College, then a white-only, women’s college that today is known as the University of Mary Washington. The Fairview and College Terrace subdivisions were also in close proximity to Black neighborhoods and Shiloh Cemetery, a cemetery that served a local Black baptist congregation. This precedent shaped subsequent residential developments in Fredericksburg as the city continued to expand.
Fredericksburg experienced a development boom in the 1930s as the Sylvania Industrial Corporation, one of two companies in the world that produced cellophane, stabilized the local economy and allowed residents to avoid the worst effects of the Great Depression.3 The city’s relative prosperity attracted an influx of workers to the area, which led to an increased demand for housing. Following the Supreme Court’s decision in Corrigan v. Buckley (1926), which reinforced the legality of racially restrictive covenants as private contracts, developers continued to incorporate them into new residential developments. Developers created ten new restricted subdivisions, mostly selling undeveloped lots to white working- and middle-class families. Because buyers built their own homes, the neighborhoods developed with a variety of architectural styles. The Elmhurst and Kenmore subdivisions were established during this period along with Bruelle, completing a ring of restricted housing along the city limits. Like earlier subdivisions, these neighborhoods reshaped the landscape by surrounding Black neighborhoods in Fredericksburg’s historic downtown and limiting housing options for Black residents.
The decade also saw the establishment of subdivisions that used racially restrictive covenants outside the city limits in nearby Spotsylvania County, much of which Fredericksburg annexed in the mid-twentieth century. The developers of Brompton Heights, College Heights, Fairgrounds, Jackson Park, W. R. Dillard, Airport, and Westmont had already sold lots with racially restrictive covenants before Fredericksburg annexed them. Unlike other subdivisions, Fairgrounds, which was annexed in 1951, was unique for its use of a neighborhood agreement, in which white landowners signed a contract consenting to restrict the subdivision rather than the developer selling lots with restrictive language.4 With the 1955 annexation, the W.R. Dillard and Jackson Park subdivisions became the southern limits of Fredericksburg. These subdivisions also bordered many Black-owned properties in Spotsylvania County, once again creating a clearly defined “color line” that limited Black property ownership and housing access.
In the late 1940s, the creation of racially restricted neighborhoods through covenants declined in response to the U.S. Supreme Court’s ruling in Shelley v. Kraemer (1948).5 In this case, the court affirmed that racial covenants in land deeds were private contracts, but their enforcement required using the courts, which were public entities that were required to uphold federal civil rights legislation. In Fredericksburg, some developers continued to sell parcels with restrictive language after 1948, such as the Airport, Jackson Park, and College Heights, hoping the language would be enough to keep families of color away. The last parcel sold with a racially restrictive covenant was a College Heights property in 1964.6
The Fair Housing Act of 1968 made all racially discriminatory covenants null and void in land deeds, bringing an end to the use of private contracts to enforce housing segregation. However, the repercussions of racial covenants are with us today through the racial demographic distribution of Fredericksburg’s neighborhoods. Many Black neighborhoods remain African American owned, while many of the city’s formerly restricted subdivisions continue to be predominantly white. Additionally, although racial covenants are illegal today, they remain in Fredericksburg’s land deeds. This lingering language can lead to misunderstandings and discomfort for buyers and sellers of previously restricted properties. An individual home owner must request the removal of the language at the Fredericksburg Courthouse. In 2020, the General Assembly created a form to expedite the process.
Even though racially restrictive covenants are a thing of the past, their impact is still relevant to communities today and must be considered as part of the local context when determining Fredericksburg’s housing policy.
- Deed Book 51, Pages 117 (1919), Fredericksburg City Courthouse, Fredericksburg, Virginia. ↩︎
- “Buchanan v. Warley.” 1917. Oyez, Accessed 28 Aug. 2026. https://www.oyez.org/cases/1900-1940/245us60 ↩︎
- “Sylvania Plant Historic District.” The Virginia Department of Historic Resources, Updated 2 Jun. 2023. https://www.dhr.virginia.gov/historic-registers/088-5545/ ↩︎
- Deed book 127, Page 87 (1941), Fredericksburg City Courthouse, Fredericksburg, Virginia. ↩︎
- “Shelley v. Kraemer.” 1948. Oyez, Accessed 28 Aug. 2026. https://www.oyez.org/cases/1940-1955/334us1 ↩︎
- Deed book 124, Page 511-512 (1964), Fredericksburg City Courthouse, Fredericksburg, Virginia. ↩︎