Amid the ruins with horses, sheep…and barking dogs
Adairsville, GA
May 18, 2018
One decade after the US army pushed the Cherokee out, and two decades before it poured blue-bellied soldiers in, Godfrey Barnsley constructed for his wife an ornate Italianate villa in the Appalachian foothills northwest of Atlanta.
The discovery of Dahlonega gold inspired the Cherokee removal; the retention of Confederate revenue incited the Yankee invasion.
Upscale rustic charm, delectable cuisine, idyllic scenery, and the impetus of a Georgia Tech Alumni Board meeting were sufficient inducement to lure the First Lady (who is on the Board) and me back to Barnsley Gardens.
We were last here three years ago, since which time the Georgian Hall and a new Inn have risen to host corporate events laced with bucolic luxury.
The essence of this relaxing retreat is otherwise unchanged and, to recapture that feel, we shunned the Inn and opted instead for the pastoral privacy of a country cabin.
Andrew Jackson Downing designed the original gardens around a manor completed in 1848, ravaged in 1864 by Sherman’s horde and that, after 1910, descended into the ruins which now stand in neo-Gothic testimony to the love of an English gentleman for a bride who died too young.
Much as the Levy family saved Monticello from deterioration and potential oblivion, Bavarian Prince Hubertus Fugger purchased the Barnsley property in 1988, rescuing the estate and grounds from a prolonged dilapidation.
After reviving the gardens, stabilizing the ruins, and converting the surrounding acreage into a high-end resort, Fugger in 2004 sold the land to Julian Saul, a retired Dalton carpet executive and Georgia Tech graduate with whom we had the pleasure of mingling before dinner last night.
Gandering and wandering around this place convinces me we should find more opportunities to mingle with Mr. Saul.
Several restaurants, wooded horse trails, skeet shooting, a spa, and a Jim Fazio golf course amply reward renting one of the charming English-style cottages that line or encircle peaceful parks, ponds, and fire pits.
We arrived late yesterday afternoon, expecting our time to be limited (it was) and the weather to be awful (it wasn’t).
A cocktail reception and after-dinner drinks on the veranda of the new Georgian Hall bookended an enjoyable meal within.
Mr. Saul described some of his escapades at Tech and how, but for the power of rounding, his GPA would not have been sufficient to warrant an honorable discharge from the Institute.
He elaborated a bit on his career and, particularly, on the circumstances that brought him into contact with Prince Fugger and ownership of this property.
Seated beside us was a couple who happen to be extremely close friends with one of my co-workers, a Sales Leader whom I had just seen in St Louis the previous day.
As we spoke, I realized the lore of our business unit President, as if carried by Medieval minstrels, had spread far beyond the walls of our corporate castle.
My eyes immediately turned, located our waiter and, like an escaped convict who suddenly hears the approaching sound of barking dogs, pleaded he quickly replenish the inadequate content of my wine glass.
Rita donated her hours this morning to the Board meeting. I devoted mine to a bit of work, breaking occasionally for walks amid the ruins and along garden trails intersected by equine crossings or serenaded by the bleating of baby sheep.
The predicted rain never materialized, tho’ the air was of a heavy, moist consistency unusual for mid-May, and which, whenever clouds exposed the coquettish sun, made breathing feel as if one were sucking morsels of oxygen from a wet sponge.
The chiming of the noon bell and the lure of conditioned air beckoned me from the trail and reunited me with Rita.
We will not wait another three years to return, allotting more time (and carrying golf clubs) when we do.
JD
