Category: House of Beauty

Our house has brought together two people—my husband and myself—along with 17th-, 18th-, and early 19th-century hand-water-colored prints of flora and fauna from around the world, which decorate our walls today. They speak of the glory of God’s creation.

Gilbert and I met in Washington, D.C., during the Ronald Reagan administration. He was working on Capitol Hill as a legal aide to a friend elected to Congress, then later to an Alabama senator. I was working as deputy social secretary to the White House, where I would eventually become the social secretary during the final three-and-a-half years of Reagan’s administration.

Gilbert’s milieu, Capitol Hill, or “The Hill,” as it is called, will always hold a fascination for me because I never worked within those hallowed halls. What I knew was the White House. As Social Secretary, I was responsible for producing all events hosted by President Ronald Reagan and first lady Nancy Reagan—usually in the White House, but one was in New York, and one at the American embassy in Moscow. One fun memory was during a 1985 White House dinner to host Prince Charles and Princess Diana: I tapped John Travolta on the shoulder to ask him to cut in on the President and dance with the princess. An iconic photo ensued.

Working in the White House

I greatly enjoyed working with Mrs. Reagan. She was the consummate hostess and a gift to our country. What fun we had deciding not only who would be invited to sumptuous state dinners, but who would sit next to whom. One of my favorite duties was advising Mrs. Reagan about entertainers at the White House, from the brilliant pianist Van Cliburn, who performed at a state dinner in honor of then-Soviet Union leader Mikhail Gorbachev and his wife, to the Preservation Hall Jazz Band, which performed at a Congressional picnic in 1986.

After the administration, Gilbert and I lost touch, he returning to Alabama and I to Texas. But years later, we eventually, and thankfully, reconnected—neither of us having married. When he began to talk about marriage, Gilbert secretly planned a destination event six months thence, at which he was planning to pop the question. He asked me, pre-proposal, where I would most like to live someday (he was still in Birmingham but liked smaller towns, and I was in Dallas), and the words “Terrell” flew out of my mouth.

Annandale: Home Sweet Home

Terrell, Texas, is within commuting distance to Dallas, where I am vice president of communications and public relations for The Tradition, which develops and manages luxury rental retirement communities in Texas. I knew that this small town had a beautiful historic district with homes originally built with wealth from the cotton and cattle industries. The first automobile to be purchased in Texas was by a resident of Terrell.

Gilbert went online and found this exquisite Georgian revival home with a carriage entrance for sale in Terrell. The home had, however, a potential buyer on the brink of commitment. So, he quickly proposed over the telephone (who wanted to wait six months for a proposal, anyway?)—and we bought the house!

Our house was built in 1917. It was historically a focus of entertainment, with its annual “silver charity teas”—where people would bring silver coins to donate to charity—and its third-floor ballroom, which hosted dances for Terrell young ladies and British cadets from the No. 1 British Flying Training School during World War II. The famous Texan and 20th-century speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives Sam Rayburn had been a guest here.

We call our stately home “Annandale,” for the Scottish location of Gilbert’s ancestors (who are related to Samuel Johnston, an 18th-century statesman who was a delegate to the U.S. Continental Congress). We love history and have honored it by highlighting the work of scientific artists who lived during the golden age of natural history and exploration. It was a time when educated, cultured Europeans and Americans—undergirded by the findings of early scientists such as Johannes Kepler, Isaac Newton, and John Ray—became consumed by the desire to discern the world around them. They were driven by a missionary zeal to understand God’s creation as completely as they could and spread that knowledge to others. They felt compelled to read “the unwritten book of nature,” i.e. the created world. The written Bible and the “book of nature,” a term used by Saint Augustine and early Christian theologians, were understood as the two ways to learn about the Creator.

These natural history scientists and artists enjoyed a lifelong appreciation for God’s creation, which generated wonder, praise, and joy. As the great musical composers Bach and Handel dedicated their talents to God’s glory (soli Deo gloria), so did these men and women. In notable entomologist Maria Merian’s (1647–1717) first book on caterpillars and butterflies, she made beautiful drawings of plants and insects. She wrote: “Seek not in this to honor me but God alone, to praise him as the Creator of even the smallest and least of worms.” Beautiful, hand-painted prints by these artists were ultimately gathered in leather-bound books. In addition to Maria Merian, others such as Basilius Besler (1561–1629), Mark Catesby (1683–1749), George Edwards (1694–1773), Moses Harris (1730–1788), John James Audubon (1785–1851), and Sir William Jardine (1800–1874) are just a few of these important natural history artists and scientists.

The scientific art now hanging on our walls is set among the beauties of natural objects—minerals, shells, and butterflies—as well as among period English, American, and French furniture, some of which was passed down through our families. The art, furniture, and architecture recreate a Georgian period interior on a smaller scale, not unlike homes of earlier centuries that exhibited this “passion for natural history.” These iconic houses were filled with cabinets of curiosities—collections of striking birds, insects, minerals, and more—along with libraries stocked with exquisitely tooled, leather-bound, natural history color-plate books. The grounds and spectacular gardens of their homes were planted with the most recent botanical discoveries of the day.

Gilbert has nurtured a love of nature throughout his life, and he has witnessed great nature sites on six continents. He has backpacked, canoed, and kayaked throughout North America.

He subsequently transformed our lot into a nature-friendly haven by planting flowers and shrubs that provide food for butterflies and birds, with many bird baths and feeders. We look forward to seasonal changes because of the different migratory birds that visit our yard. Gilbert has identified over 100 different bird species here over the years. And I can now identify a downy woodpecker!

The Interiors

Today, almost eight years after our wedding, I walk through the rooms of our house and am grateful for our life together. When I was working in the White House, I was constantly surrounded by the beauty of Federal-style decor, very similar to its Georgian counterpart in England. And now, the beauty of the same period surrounds me. Natural light pours in from Palladian windows, filling the ground-floor rooms and illuminating our art.

Nothing is fully appreciated unless it is understood, and for that purpose, Gilbert has placed “museum-like” cards alongside each work of art in our home, explaining something about the artist and how the work was produced. We regularly open our house to others to share beauty and historical information.

However, do not let the word “museum” deceive—our home is anything but. Vibrantly colored walls, true to Georgian decor, warm up the rooms with rich yellow, apricot, and blue hues—which leads me to a word about the decorator. Having known my husband since the 1980s as a master of conservative public policy, an adventurer in the wilds, an art collector, a print dealer and owner of Antique Nature Prints, and a lecturer on the art of natural history (my Renaissance man), I had never known him as an interior decorator! And yet, he set about decorating our home with a sure hand—just as he landscaped our land—suggesting paint colors, purchasing furnishings at auction, and placing the art and furniture so happily together that they seemed made for each other.

Which is just what I feel about us—made for each other. And any beauty in our home is dedicated to the glory of the Author of beauty—the Lord of Creation.

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.

In this series, master woodworker Brent Hull will introduce readers to the different architectural styles that were popularized throughout American history, explaining their significance and unique design features.

No architectural style has captured the imagination of an American era like Greek Revival. Lasting from 1820 to 1860, it was more than just a style; it was an ideal that expressed itself in the architecture of our young nation and as an ideological assurance that the democracy could and would survive. We forget that 200 years ago, the concept of a democratic rule, by the people and for the people, was a radical model and still an experiment. The American Revolution, and our breaking from European molds of government, was itself revolutionary. The popularity of the Greek Revival style coincided with the rise of America into a nation. This is a style that projects permanence and strength, traits our young country desired.

The Greek Revival style is most identifiable by its temple front, which is inspired by the Parthenon in Greece. This famous temple sits on the Acropolis in Athens—the tall rock formation that stands proudly over the city and was a place of worship to Athena, patron goddess of Athens. The Parthenon has been studied and revered for centuries because of its mathematical purity and design integrity. Though the Greek Revival era in America lasted from 1820 to 1860, the interest in Greek culture had been developing for some time in Europe. By 1750 in England, the ancient Roman world had been studied and extensively explored. It had been almost two centuries since Andrea Palladio, 16th-century Italian architect, wrote “I quattro libri dell’architettura” (“The Four Books of Architecture”) in 1570. This book was on the shelves of many prominent builders and architects and became the blueprint for design and construction based upon the classical characteristics.

Interestingly, Palladio had only ever studied ancient Rome. By 1750, it was well known that Greece had been the key influence on Roman architecture. The Romans had appropriated and adopted the ideas that the Greeks had perfected. Greece and ancient Greek culture were hidden and veiled by the Ottoman Turkish Empire (mid 15th century to early 19th century), which refused to let travelers into the country for fear of spying.

Travel to Greece in the 18th century was dangerous; thus, a secret mission was hatched by a spirited group of thinkers. Two Englishmen by the names of James Stuart (archaeologist, architect, and artist) and Nicholas Revett (architect) traveled to Athens in 1751, funded and organized by the Society of Dilettanti of London. Disguised as native Turks, they secretly drew and chronicled the ancient Greek ruins, making accurate measurements of the Acropolis of Athens and the Parthenon. This mission resulted in the seminal book, “The Antiquities of Athens,” which was written in three volumes over a 40-year period. After these discoveries were published in 1758, the work became a source book on ancient Greek architecture.

“The Antiquities of Athens” spurred great interest and encouraged architects to build in new forms and with fresh inspiration. The book highlighted how Greek designs were different from Roman temples and buildings. For instance, Greek architects did not use arches in their designs; the arch was a Roman improvement. Greek temples like the Parthenon were beautiful and admired for their near-mathematical perfection and symmetry. The proportions of the Parthenon match the proportions of the human body; the columns to beams have a proportional relationship much like the human form, where head to hand are proportional.

The interest in Greek culture continued to grow through the late 18th and early 19th centuries. The rediscovery of the Greek temples at Paestum (550 to 450 B.C.) in southern Italy, during the 18th century, was a marvel. The presence of the three well-preserved Greek temples, in the region of Italy (present day Calabria), reinforced the idea of original Greek dominance of the world under Alexander (356–323 B.C.). This temple was made more popular in 1778 after the well-known engraver Giovanni Battista Piranesi drew the temple and prints became readily accessible to the public.

Americans’ interest in the Greek Revival style benefited from the War of 1812 between Britain and America. These battles soured the nation’s interest in British design and culture. Naturally looking for inspiration from more remote places, the story of Greece as an original democracy was contagious. In the early 1820s, the war for Greek independence from the Ottoman Turkish Empire began, and it reminded Americans of their fight for independence. The Greek war for independence was front-page news, and it became more compelling as Lord Byron, the famous English poet, died in 1824 from a fever contracted while training Greek troops after the First and Second Siege of Missolonghi.

How much did all this excite the imagination of the American people? Maybe we need to look no further than the naming of many of our towns and cities from this period. Athens, Georgia, the college town famous for the Georgia Bulldogs, was given the name Athens in honor of Plato and Aristotle’s school of thought. The actual number of towns named after Greek cities and citizens is profound. Consider these names: Sparta, Athens, Ithaca, Syracuse, Alexandria, Akron, and Atlanta, from the Greek god Atlas. It is clear Greek culture and thinking inspired not just architecture but how Americans thought of themselves as a people.

Greek Revival architecture today is readily identifiable by several key attributes: a temple front, large Doric columns with no bases, and simple and bold stone-like ornamentation with a triangular pediment. The Second Bank of the United States, Philadelphia, is a wonderful example of the Greek Revival style. Now part of Independence Park in Philadelphia, the bank was built between 1818 and 1824 by William Strickland, noted Philadelphia architect and civil engineer. With strong fluted Doric columns that sit directly on the raised stylobate (raised platform), the Second Bank of the United States was clearly inspired by the Parthenon in Greece. The bank’s eight columns have no base, which is a unique style of ancient Greek detail. The building’s presence is commanding and bold in character with its wide, thick columns crowned by the signature Greek triangular pediment and simple ornaments and moldings around doors and windows.

Strickland was a former student of Benjamin Latrobe, the man who is regarded as the first professionally trained American architect. Both Latrobe and Strickland were disciples of the Greek Revival style and were credited with having helped establish the Greek Revival movement in America. Some of Strickland’s most accomplished building designs were in this style. During the 19th century, the Greek Revival style extended itself into the construction of newer small towns, banks, courthouses, and other civic buildings looking to establish an air of permanence and significance.

Another prominent Strickland design was the Belle Meade plantation in Nashville, Tennessee. Formerly, the two-story plantation was built in the Federal style, but after William Giles Harding took over operations at Belle Meade in 1839, he employed Strickland to construct a two-story, 24-by-55-foot addition to the home. In keeping with the Greek Revival style, the new home was “bold in silhouette, broad in proportions, and simplified in detail,” with its six limestone, Doric pillars supporting the front porch and pedimented attic.

The Greek Revival era ended when the Civil War began in the 1860s. After the war, this style was forgotten and replaced by the decorative frills of the industrialized Victorian architecture. The style is still revered today for its simple, honest character and charm. These historic buildings with strong stoic porches still remind us of a simpler time when America, as a young nation, hoped to grow and prosper.

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.