Drayton Hall: History and Honesty Preserved

People are fascinated by the homes of the rich—particularly historic mansions. These solidly built, spacious, intricately carved structures serve as sheer eye candy. The grounds are beautiful, parklike spaces in which to stroll around. Old estates are a glimpse into how "the 1 percent" lives that is seductive even if you're not an architecture aficionado or history buff—but learning about the history of these homes makes them a much more enriching experience.

The realities of Southern history

However, visiting historic estates can also be psychologically problematic. In the northern and western states, such homes often rose out of the profits created from the labor of miners or railroad workers, who never saw any of that wealth themselves. In the South, large estates and plantations existed because the homeowners paid nothing for labor: They kept slaves to work the land and take care of the houses. The cruelty, inhumanity, and lasting damage of the institution of slavery casts a pall over any visit to a historic Southern estate.

As described by many with more direct experience than I have, historic homes and tour guides often struggle to incorporate this reality into their exhibits and tour scripts, and visitors sometimes ask questions that betray their ignorance of the reality of slavery. What is the right way to talk about slavery at a historic site? Fortunately, the best sites make it a critical part of their exhibits, research, and outreach to address this question. Some individuals, like Joseph McGill of the Slave Dwelling Project, bring the reality home to people through visiting and engaging with extant slave quarters. 

Drayton Hall's imposing double portico, the first of its kind in the world.

Drayton Hall doesn't fall into the trap of trying to whitewash, as it were, the history of slavery in the South. In a matter-of-fact way, our tour guide discussed about how the home of John Drayton, although a country seat rather than a working plantation, was maintained through slave labor, and how after the Civil War, African Americans made up the majority of the labor force in the estate's phosphorus mining operations. For about 50 years, a community of miners and their families lived on the grounds. After that time, fewer people stayed on, as caretakers, gardeners, and landscapers, making improvements to the home and grounds over the years.

The tour script referred many times to individual artisans, household workers, and caretakers among the enslaved people at Drayton. Using the names of the people who lived and worked in a place makes a difference, even in a small way, in giving credit where credit is long overdue.

The African American cemetery, believed to be the first in the U.S., is preserved near the front entrance to Drayton Hall. Visiting the cemetery was recommended by several different staff members, from the tour guide herself to the gatekeeper at the entrance. It's a beautiful spot, and unobtrusive signs help the visitor learn more about some of the people buried there. The caretaker's cottage exhibit also shares information about those who lived there up until the 1960s, as well as the larger community during the phosphorus mining years. 

The African American cemetery was left to nature, in accordance with the wishes of Richmond Bowens, a seventh-generation resident and later gatekeeper of Drayton Hall.

A unique perspective on historic preservation

The house itself is unusual among historic estates I've visited. It has been preserved, not restored, and in choosing not to present the home with all the trappings of a particular period, the Drayton Hall Preservation Trust showcases the bones of the house itself. Tour guides are able to point out the different paint colors, changing fireplace technologies, portico repairs, and other shifts that took place from the home's establishment in 1738 through the transfer of the property to the National Trust for Historic Preservation in 1974.

Stripped of furniture and decorations, Drayton Hall is a beautifully carved shell that one can fill with the imagined activities of those who lived and worked there. Without objects to fill the space, the size of the rooms, the height of the ceilings, and the attention to detail in plaster and wood molding is all the more striking. There is a language to the layout of the rooms, I learned, with particular styles of decorative columns representing a visual code to guests of the time as to which rooms were most important. Doric details give way to Ionic, which in turn are replaced by Corinthian.

The interior of Drayton Hall is unfurnished, showcasing the design and functionality of the house itself.

From the newly published Drayton Hall: The Creation and Preservation of an American Icon, which I picked up at the gift shop, I learned that scholars believe John Drayton may have drawn up the plans himself based on study of architectural books, particularly the classical designs of Andrea Palladio.

Drayton Hall was progressively designed for its time, and the book shares the architectural elements and history of the house and grounds in a way that's both detailed and succinct. I really enjoyed reading about aspects that couldn't all be covered in the tour.

Structural safety issues are addressed by the preservation team, as are paint, plaster, and wood elements that crack or break down. The aim is to be invisible, however, in keeping the house as it is. Electricity, plumbing, heating, and cooling capabilities were never added to the property, even in the 20th century, but open doors keep the air flowing well throughout the building, even on a warm day.

A pathway circles the back of the estate by the Ashley River, and I wandered there to sit for a few minutes under the Spanish moss-draped oaks, watching boats go past. The breeze felt wonderful, and I lingered long enough that when I started back to the parking lot, I realized that I was the last visitor on the grounds.

The wide green lawn and the massive house were empty, and the breeze was ruffling tree branches above my head. The sun was getting lower and casting longer shadows. Walking alone across the estate, I paused to look around once more, feeling that eerie tingle one associates with old places—that sense that after you leave, the place is still full of ghosts and stories, even if no one is there to witness it. 

Drayton Hall is a good example of why we should keep our old places alive, and why we should never stop learning about our past.