DEL.ICIO.USFor the Journal-Constitution
Published on: 11/02/04
GREENSBORO, N.C. — Changing a functional but aging house into a decorative home in a new style of architecture is an American dream project. Working with one of the country's leading architects puts the idea even further into the land of fantasy for most people.
But that's what the owner of Greensboro's Blandwood did in the 1840s, and it worked, architecturally and aesthetically. A 21st-century visitor can tour this loving, sensitive restoration, and see some innovative ideas for its time — a closet, for instance.
 Bill Cissna /Staff | |||
| This is the garden at Blandwood, which sits between the eastern 'dependency.' | |||
 Bill Cissna/Staff | |||
| Blandwood, built in the late 1700s, became the home of John Motley Morehead in 1827. Morehead later became North Carolina's governor, from 1841 to 1845. | |||
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MOST POPULARBlandwood started its existence atop a hill in what was, at that time, rural land near the small settlement that later became Greensboro. Today's Blandwood, close to the center of modern Greensboro, is a National Historic Landmark.
Charles Bland constructed the original structure, a four-room, Federal-style farmhouse, in the late 1700s. By 1820, Blandwood's owner was Greensboro merchant Henry Humphreys, who had married widow Letitia Lindsay. The couple occupied the home with Lindsay's five children, and Humphreys expanded the home by two rooms sometime around then.
In 1827, the house was bought by John Motley Morehead (1796-1866), a young man with prospects who had married Humphreys' stepdaughter, Ann Eliza Lindsay.
The Moreheads ultimately had eight children and by 1844, the house had expanded further — as had Morehead's position. A lawyer, Morehead served in the North Carolina legislature before becoming North Carolina's governor from 1841-1845.
Early in 1844, Alexander Jackson Davis, a leading American architect of that time, came to Chapel Hill and Raleigh to see the State Capitol his firm had designed and to start work on several projects on the campus of University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. The visit corresponded with the governor's desire to remodel Blandwood.
Davis saw in the hilltop house location an opportunity to attempt an Italian-influenced home, at a time when Greek Revival was the more acceptable style.
By 1846, the construction was complete on what is now the oldest standing example of a Tuscan villa in America.
The striking home remained in the Morehead family until 1896, when a tragic attack of tuberculosis left no heirs. That year, the house was converted to the Keeley Institute, a rehab center for alcoholism and drug addiction. In time, the building fell into disuse. By the 1960s, it was threatened with demolition, until an effort at the state and local level created a foundation. The restored house opened for public tours in 1976.
Within the unified exterior Davis created in 1846 lies an intriguing combination of time periods. The landmark three-story front tower leads into formal parlors on the east and west, clearly designed to make a positive first impression.
Ashley Poteat, Blandwood's executive director and sometime tour guide, explained the decorating style on the home's wood doors and many of the baseboards.
"On tabletops and fireplaces on the first floor, real marble was used," she said. "Most of the wood was simple Southern pine, though. The decoration you see is faux painting to match stylish wood grains, or the graining of the marble."
This technique was not used to save money. It was simply that the faux painting, imitating the real thing, was in vogue in the 1840s and 1850s. As a result, the underlying wood choice did not matter dramatically.
Nearby, in the "new" section of the house, the east bedroom showed how the young ladies of the house might have lived. Poteat debunked a popular myth of a table with a low mirror. She showed two sisters on the tour, Maxine Hays from Florida and Brenda VanNott from New Jersey, that this piece could not possibly be a "petticoat mirror." As one stands near or far from the mirror, it is impossible to see one's feet — except to bend over, which would have made a skirt hoop rise up anyway.
"Throughout the house, including here," Poteat said, " the mirrors you see are there to reflect available light. They were rarely used for viewing oneself."
In this room, Davis also designed for a new trend: the closet. Though it had shelves (hanging clothes would not catch on until the early 1900s), this closet would earlier have been considered a waste of space.
Across the way, a westside bedroom is decorated as a later family member might have had it in the late 1800s. "That's a fancy chamber pot," Hays said, comparing it to one seen in the east bedroom. Poteat said the late Victorian era was decidedly more ornate, in chamber pots, furniture and other goods.
Beyond these rooms and past the wide central hallway, Blandwood becomes more pragmatic. A dining room downstairs gives way to a master bedroom in the oldest portions of the house; upstairs provided more sleeping space for the large family.
We learned, with a lightweight small "tub" as a prop, that residents in the 1790s would have bathed about once a month. By the 1840s, bathing had progressed to weekly, and tended to fall on Saturday nights to make family gatherings on Sundays more pleasant.
Such expressions as "don't throw the baby out with the bath water," "sleep tight" (tighten the ropes on rope beds) and "don't let the bed bugs bite" (with straw and feather "mattresses," this one should be self-explanatory) were put into their 18th- and 19th-century contexts.
The children's rooms also exhibit the oldest piece in the house, a cradle dating to 1790 that belonged to Gov. Morehead. On the west side of the home, the tour includes Morehead's law office and library.
Touring the home today provides a snapshot of how visionaries can work together to create something new without destroying the old, and an enlightening look at how public life and private family could co-exist 150 years ago.
