02.2 69 Church Street

Natalia retreated to find a lodge and stopped at 86 Church Street – Hutton House Bed & Breakfast. Three colonial windows facing the road and a door she stepped in. A thin and tall lady in her late thirties greeted, “Hello! I’m Valerie Burke. Looking for stay!” She wore glasses.

“Yes, please,” replied Natalia, “It is quiet around and beautiful. I love this street.”

“Where do you come from?” she asked touching her glasses.

“I’m from California. I’m Natalia.” She booked in. She was given a room with two windows facing the road and two facing north with a view of the piazza of a house standing some yards away.

“If you want to park your car inside, you drive in through this gate. I have few spaces down there.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m in the patio mostly. If you don’t see me, ring the bell. Come and have a cup of coffee!”

She sat down for coffee in the backyard, between two edifices of the old and new Hutton House.

Valerie with a quirky long face said, “This house still remains in the family.”

Natalia wondered, “What do you call those sleek trees teeming of pink blossom?”

“Crape myrtle,” replied Valerie, “Lagerstroemia, not native but it’s been around for some time. These trees are in full blossom throughout summer.”

“Two of the trees standing outside 69 barely got a flower!”

“Well,” she touched her glasses, “there is a myth that goes around to say one of the reasons why myrtles don’t bloom is because you are an evil. It’s like some evil hands planted them. To be realistic, it’s not true. It could be mildew or lack of sunshine.”

“Why are these houses standing sideways and so close to one another? I was expecting vast premises since they belong to the wealthy.”

“Single houses in Charleston look like they were placed sideways and some incline to believe homeowners were trying to avoid taxes on property frontage. However, homes were built in this fashion due to the constrictive configurations of lots in the city. Charleston was a walled metropolis formerly and a historical city over 300 years old,” explained Valerie correcting her glasses, “Sometime in the past, there were fewer houses. Now the population has grown and lots divided. This peninsula is man-made, reclaimed from the marshes and sea.”

“All the houses on this street look identical. Is it to keep the heritage of a Charleston architecture?” asked Natalia.

“There could be a Charleston distinctiveness in the architecture with piazzas to catch the wind and large windows open to side yards. Most of the houses are built more recently. Not all date back to the 18^th century. We did not have this new house when we were kids…just a backyard. Charleston is the oldest city in South Carolina. You can read about ancient houses at the library archives or at the Preservation Society. Architecture varies from Victorian, Federal, Colonial, Gothic, Georgian.”

“I figure that all key centres are nearby on King Street and Queen Street. Tell me, what do you know about the Bann House?”

“I am not familiar with the houses,” said Valerie, “but Bann is a household name. You find several estates under that name. I spent a good half of my matured life in New York. I ran away.”

“Are you married?”

“I was,” she nodded, “I ran away from him. I have to find a different life, I guess.”

‘Well, then…”

“I will tell you about a house,” she said, “There’s not much change around here. See that house with brick walls! That’s Heyward Washington House with a museum. Built in 1772, the home of Thomas Heyward Jr., a signer of the United States Declaration of Independence. George Washington stayed there during his visit to this town in 1791. It’s all written there, we read since we were kids.”

Natalia stared at the house on the opposite side of the street with red brick walls.

Natalia stopped at the library reckoning it to be more conventional and obscure to her knowledge; Cyril House did not enter the archives of heritage homes at the time deemed for conservation by the Preservation Society of Charleston. She asked the librarian where to find it and the lady referred to as the “Crape-Myrtle House!”

“Crape-Myrtle House! That’s a coincidence!” she uttered to the librarian.

She sat down on a chair by the library table, took her notebook and silver pen to scribble.

69 Church Street was built in the circa 1745-50 by Dick Rock and Jason Crape in Gothic Revival style and the interiors completed in Georgian style at which time Charles Town was the fourth largest port in America and possibly the wealthiest. One unique feature for the given time was that every bedroom in the home has an en suite bathroom. This house underwent a series of renovations, sold many times and some distinguished persons owned the place and stayed there. Among them, Colonel Myrtle served as the treasurer of the colony and his son married one of the Banns. This house was extensively damaged during the Civil War. In 1869, a famous artist purchased the property and restored it.

Natalia dropped her pen and glanced at the book beside her; ‘The Dwelling Houses of Charleston’ published in 1917 written by Alice Ravenel Huger Smith who died here in 1958.

It was nightfall. She drove up Church Street and stopped by the southeast corner of the Cyril House. She spent an hour looking at the symmetrical sets of glass-fitted windows but there was no light. She repeated the same procedure after dinner.