An Endangered Edisto National Historic Landmark With A Storied Past Is Rescued--Brick House Ruins

"I know not how it was--but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit...I looked upon the scene before me--upon the mere house, and the simple landscape features of the domain--upon the bleak walls--upon the vacant eye-like windows--with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation more properly than to the after-dream...Shaking off from my spirit what must have been a dream, I scanned more narrowly the real aspect of the building. Its principle feature seemed to be that of an excessive antiquity...Perhaps the eye of a scrutinizing observer might have discovered a barely perceptible fissure, which extending from the roof of the building in front, made its way down the wall in a zigzag direction, until it became lost in the sullen waters of the tarn."

The Lowcountry is rife with aged and ruined plantation homes that fit the portraiture of Edgar Allen Poe's "The Fall of the House of Usher." Once sprawling estates of opulence, now pillaged realms of providence--some by Federal troops in the Civil War--some by the all-consuming fires of unintentional carelessness--some by creeping disrepair. What Edgar Allen Poe described with trepidation, we idealize and romanticize. For us, they are living remnants of a glamorous and sometime savage by-gone time called the Old South. Their storied and ghostly pasts color our dreams and shade our nightmares--part of the wonder that lures people from all over the country and the world each year by the millions to their caretaker and master, Charleston and its Sea Islands. For me this particular day, the allure would take me to a Sea Island called Edisto.

Turning off of 174, after passing a few simple homesteads, it was a long drive up the unpaved sandy-stoned Brick House Road. It was lined on the left by old trees dripping with Spanish moss and cultivated farm fields on its right. At one point it split into two, until I arrived at an entrance marked by a ominously large no trespassing sign. I was going no further. The pictures I hoped to get of the old house beyond was not to be for I did not have an appointment and I was not going to dishonor the warning. The famous Brick House ruins was my intended objective.

Believed to have been built in 1725, Paul Hamilton used bricks imported from Boston and wood aged a minimum of seven years in its construction--Boston bricks were more denser than local bricks. It was architecturally designed in American colonial architecture, but flavored with a French Huguenot influence. The Jenkins family acquired the estate in 1798, which included the 300 acre plantation. It was in the late 1700's and early 1800's Sea Island plantations grew in wealth and prosperity due to its highly-prized Sea Island Cotton. It was around this time an Edgar Allen Poe type story became a part of its history. It is a story about a relative of Mrs. Jenkins named Amelia. If you would like to read the story go to The Lengendary "Brick House" on Edisto Island--A Love Story With A Regrettable Twist.

In 1929, a fire gutted the interior. The fire left only the exterior walls and its tall chimneys. The Brick House ruins have been slowly deteriorating and gradually overgrown with vegetation since. In the 1960s, the ruin's two chimneys were lowered by about 12 feet each to prevent them falling over, but the cracks and leans in the walls have gradually worsened. This National Historic Landmark and one of the Lowcountry's earliest, most substantial homes was nearing collapse and if that were to happen, an important piece of history would disappear into the dust pile of time. But fortunately, fate has turned in its favor.

In July of this year, the National Trust for Historic Preservation has come to the rescue. Two grants were provided to further the process of emergency stabilization and the much needed work was put in motion. Other proceeds have come from an oyster roast, the Historic Charleston Foundation, the Preservation Society of Charleston, The Rivers Foundation, and South State Bank. All told, the nonprofit has secured about $56,000 toward the current work, which is estimated at $70,000. Anyone who wishes can donate by clicking on this donation link.

Brick House is on private property and not open to the public. I hope to make arrangements at some point to photograph it for myself--This is an update to an earlier article.