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Our State | Perfect Weekend | October 2001
By Ralph
Grizzle I passed not one car on the way to the Aerie Inn, the fine bed and breakfast where I would stay the night. Not a single person roamed the sidewalks. There were no late-night revelers, no lovers locked arm-in-arm, not even a dog or cat. I checked
in at the Aerie, dumped my bags into my guest room and asked my host
if there might be a pub open where I could find a sandwich and cold
refreshment. The look on his face suggested not much hope, but he brightened
and said that Captain Ratty's on Middle Street had a late-night piano
bar. I made haste out the front door. Nothing
Doing A dim light cast itself on the sidewalk in front of the dubiously named Captain Ratty's. I walked inside to find a half-dozen patrons, all parked in front of pint glasses. I took a seat at the bar, ordered an Imperial pint of Newcastle Brown Ale, and struck up conversation with a couple seated next to me. What's a visitor to do here, I asked. They cited Tryon Palace, confessing that they themselves had never been there, and beyond that, they were fairly blank. We sat for a while considering possible diversions for the tourist, but all of these required leaving town – dinner in Oriental, 40 minutes away; a day at the beach, 35 miles distant. Having offered little to sustain me during my weekend visit here, they bid me a pleasant evening and wished me luck. I ordered
another Newcastle and finished it alone before making my way out the
door and along the empty streets back to the Aerie Inn. It was Thursday
night, so I gave the cheerless town the benefit of the doubt. Tomorrow,
I thought, things would pick up. Eager
To Please Donna told me of the efforts to revitalize downtown. As with many North Carolina towns, New Bern's city center fell into decline in the 1970s, when the sprawl of shopping malls and suburban housing drew citizens away from the business district. In 1979, a nonprofit corporation of civic leaders was charged with breathing new life into the downtown, and their efforts have been successful in attracting art galleries, specialty shops, antique stores, restaurants and other businesses. The Bennetts sent me to the streets again, but as I walked the lonely sidewalks, it became apparent that New Bern, a town rich in history and charm, was struggling to assert itself as a tourist destination. Word had spread that an Our State reporter was coming to town, and I received a number of invitations: from the Visitors Bureau to talk with the executive director; from The Chelsea restaurant for dinner; from bed and breakfasts for complimentary stays. I was beginning to feel like a minor celebrity, but the truth is that New Bern, while an attractive destination for retirees to relocate, has a bit more of a challenge in attracting tourists in numbers adequate enough to sustain itself. If it weren't for Tryon Palace, I'm not sure New Bern could hang on as a tourism destination. Moreover, New Bern is at a geographical disadvantage. Only 35 miles from the beach, the town is easily passed by tourists eager to dip their toes in the Atlantic and eager to get back home to wash the sand from their swimwear before returning to work the next day. There simply isn't sufficient time during a beach weekend to spend half-a-day or more in New Bern. As I walked the downtown sidewalks, I stopped at the Birthplace of Pepsi on the corner of Middle and Pollock. Empty, except for kindly Mary Flythe, who poured me a cup of the syrupy concoction invented here by pharmacist Caleb Bradham. I stopped at the New Bern Roasting Company, where business was far from robust. "Is the town always this slow," I asked a friendly woman behind the counter. "I'm ready for things to pick up," she replied. Back on the street, few, if any, tourists trundled about. And here's the thing: New Bern has what it takes to make for a perfect weekend. The town's history alone is fascinating. It was founded by a Swiss baron, developed by a British Royal Governor and occupied by Union troops. New Bern is, as Vina Hutchinson-Farmer writes in the Insiders' Guide to North Carolina's Central Coast and New Bern, "a panoply of American history along tree-lined streets that have just the slightest look of old Switzerland." As North Carolina's second oldest town, New Bern claims many firsts. It is home to the first state capital; the first meeting of the state legislature; the first incorporated public school in the state; the first public school for African-Americans in North Carolina. the first printing press in the state and the first newspaper published; the state's first celebration of Independence Day, and of George Washington's birthday; the first steamboat in North Carolina; the first torpedo put into practical use; and the state's first four-faced clock. There's more. New Bern claims the first motion picture theater to built in the state. The first postal service in the colony began here. The first Pepsi was poured here. Clearly this is a town worth getting to know. During
my weekend visit, I relived Colonial and Civil War history. I walked
through a royal palace, and talked at length with people who were convinced
that the year was 1835. I walked New Bern's three historic districts
and saw fine examples of Colonial, Georgian, Federal, Greek Revival
and Victorian architectural styles. I even helped in trying to solve
a murder, really, and I'll tell you more about that in a moment. Carolina
In His Mind One such home is the immaculately restored Isaac Taylor House. Born in Scotland, the wealthy merchant ship owner Isaac Taylor was a gentleman planter, whose Glenburnie plantation, named for the town of his origin, was three miles north on the Neuse River. He built his federal style townhouse in 1792. And you'll like this: Isaac is the great, great, great grandfather of North Carolina-born folk singer James Taylor. Isaac Taylor's granddaughters, Phoebe and Catherine, were living in the house when Union troops walking into town in 1862. Phoebe and Catherine, both in their 80s, refused to abandon their home. So they withdrew to the third and fourth floors and remained there for the duration of the war. The spinsters used a bracket-and-pulley system to transport food and supplies to their upper-storied refuge. You can still see the device they used on the south side of the building. Today, the lower floor where Union troops lived serves as an art gallery and café. I was so taken with the story of the two sisters and enjoyed the setting and the food so much that I returned to the Gallery Cafe twice for lunch (and had the same thing each time – the Duffy, a combination of brie, turkey, cranberry-mango chutney, lettuce, tomato and mayonnaise served on a buttered croissant with terra chips and fruit, $7.95.) Barbara
Hines runs the cafe. Her husband Robert provides the artwork that brightens
the walls. I visited Robert in his studio on the second floor, and he
showed me an 1863 photo of Union troops standing leisurely at the entrance
of the house. It was fascinating. Then he pointed to something I would
have missed. In the top left window of the third floor, one of the old
ladies looked out. Needless to say, she did not look happy. Swiss
Heritage, British Legacy The settlers suffered with the climate, a lack of provisions and supplies, diseases and violent Indian encounters. The baron and his surveyor, John Lawson, were taken prisoner. Lawson was burned at the stake; von Graffenried was spared. He eventually returned to Switzerland. Soon, the British asserted their dominion over New Bern. By the middle of the eighteenth century, New Bern had grown in size and importance. The Colonial assembly often met here. The Colony's first printing press was established in 1749 and two years later, the printer, James Davis, published the first newspaper, pamphlet and book. In 1752, King George III presented Christ Episcopal Church (downtown, but now in a newer building) with a silver communion service, prayer book and bible. They are still used today. British
Royal Governor William Tryon saw the need for a permanent capital in
the growing colony and selected New Bern as the site. Tryon Palace was
completed in 1770, but the royal governor left the lovely Georgian-style
palace a little more than a year later, after being appointed governor
of the New York colony. A Colonial
Palace Well, I enjoyed the Hay House immensely. It was a living dose of history. As I walked up the steps into the sparsely furnished six-room home and entered the parlor, a young black woman wearing a colorful dress and an African American kerchief said, "You've come to see Mr. and Mrs. Hay?" I was startled to see anyone sitting in the parlor, especially someone dressed in period costume. The young woman apologized for the Hays not being there and invited me to make myself at home. Her name was "Money," a free black. She was one of several interpreters, who portray characters from the year 1835. On the back porch, I met Mrs. William Hollister. Though she too has been dead for more than a century, the wife of one of New Bern's most successful merchants looked remarkably well. I asked her about the garden and backyard we were looking at. She told me that Mr. Hay, being a man of modest means, keeps a dirt swept-yard. He cannot afford to pay laborers to scythe grass, as is the fashion of the time, so it is pulled up by the roots. We talked for a while, me mostly saying things to extract some contemporary reference from Mrs. Hollister thus thwarting her attempt to convince me that it really was 1835 and her looking mostly puzzled when I asked things like, Where can I buy a Pepsi (the New Bern elixir wouldn't come along until 1898)? Is there a bathroom? She looked at me as if I had gone mad, and said, "We have a privy out back." Mrs. Hollister, or the poor demented woman who portrayed her, was extremely convincing, and I commend her. I left the Hay House and stopped at the Tyron Palace Visitor Center to purchase a $15 ticket to tour the palace and other buildings and 14-acre grounds. Completed in 1770, burned to the ground in 1798 and rebuilt in the 1950s, the 27-room brick mansion and its furnishings were painstakingly reproduced from meticulous records kept by Royal Governor Tryon. George Washington danced here and slept nearby – twice. The wonderfully informative palace tour takes 45 minutes and is a must-do for any visitor to New Bern. You could
easily spend a day at Tryon Palace and its gardens, but I spent just
over two hours. I had other things to do, namely, help solve a murder. The
Murder The event
consists largely of a scavenger hunt for clues through the historic
downtown. Riddles lead you from one site to the next, and participants
get to visit a variety of shops while they try to solve the murder. There were also four maniacal women who charted in detail the victim's entire family tree. To watch them at work, you would have thought that the grand prize was an all-expense-paid trip to the Bahamas rather than the token gift that was awarded. We set about town, going from shop to shop to collect a clue that would lead us to the next shop and the next clue. In a couple of hours, we had collected all of the clues and returned to the New Berne House to come up with a motive and a murderer. Before dinner, we turned in our narratives of whodunit, how and why, and upon our return, one representative from each group read each group's account. There was much sound reasoning, but in the end, no one succeeded in laying the finger on the real criminal, who was revealed by Captain Howard Bronson, who owns New Berne House with his fiancée Marcia Drum. Solving
the murder is no cinch. In the past, two New York City detectives have
failed, as did an attorney. Of course, the attorney proceeded to argue
the case for his choice anyway, telling Howard, "I could have convicted
him," which doesn't exactly restore your faith in the judicial
system. Like
Europe I put one foot in front of the other and reluctantly walked to my car to leave. As I drove toward the drawbridge that would take me to Highway 70 West, I found myself wanting to turn around, to spend just one more hour on the charming streets, but I knew I had 360 miles ahead of me, and so I drove on. On previous
trips to Morehead City and the Outer Banks, I had buzzed by New Bern
at 65 miles per hour, but this time I stopped. I'm glad I did. By stopping
- short of Morehead, short of the feverish pace forward - I learned
something about North Carolina's past. I experienced in this one place
three centuries of history. Plus, I met some wonderful people and enjoyed
some good food. What more could one ask for? And so
what if the streets were empty? I did not have to walk elbow-to-elbow
among throngs of tourists as in Williamsburg or shuffle shoulder-to-shoulder
through Tryon Palace as in Biltmore House. I suspect
New Bern's streets will be busier in October, when the warm air has
cooled and when the town hosts its two largest annual events, Mumfest,
October 11-14; and Ghost Walk, October 26-27. But
I will not be there then. My perfect weekend was ending. I drove up the ramp onto 70 and could see the lay of the town below me. It appeared compact and charming. It was not a Southern town or even a North Carolina town in the way that we know those towns. New Bern's spires and steeples and brick clock tower above City Hall give it the appearance of a European village, quaint and charming and full of unexpected pleasures for those who are willing to stop. Click here to read a sidebar about New Bern's Free Blacks and a profile on AnnieB.
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Grizzle, 28 Kenilworth Road, Asheville, North Carolina 28803 |
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