In the 1920s, at the tail end of World War I, Dr. William Goodwin–then pastor of Virginia’s historic Bruton Parish Church–wrote to John D. Rockefeller, Jr. with a petition to restore his hometown of Colonial Williamsburg. Over the years, the former state capital had become a sleepy, tumbledown village, but Goodwin still saw in it a living representation of “truth and beauty,” where visitors could be “inspired and excited.” Eventually, Goodwin convinced Rockefeller of the same, and in 1926, the Standard Oil heir began writing checks to underwrite the town’s expansive restoration.
Fifteen years later, artist Dorothy Darnell had a similar experience across the pond while visiting Jane Austen’s former home in Chawton, Hampshire, where Austen wrote all six of her novels during the last eight years of her life. Since Austen’s death in 1817, the cottage had been split into flats and fallen into disrepair, though Darnell was determined to save it. In establishing the Jane Austen Society at the start of the Second World War, she drew the eye of London lawyer T. Edward Carpenter, who offered to buy the house and turn it into a museum in memory of Austen and his son, who had recently been killed in action.
More recently, at a time that feels similarly tumultuous and chaotic, Colonial Williamsburg and the Jane Austen House Museum have drawn a new wave of interest by teaming up with esteemed design brands to bring archival textiles, wallpapers, and paint colors to new life. In honor of the bicentennial of Austen’s death in 2017, the Jane Austen House Museum worked with English wallpaper company Hamilton Weston to recreate three papers, fragments of which had been left like clues around the author’s home.
Discovered in a bricked-up window in the drawing room, Chawton Vine serves as an engaging and surprisingly contemporary yellow pattern, while Chawton Leaf—once hidden behind a dining room cupboard—features a bold green leaf inspired by a type of Dead Nettle. But perhaps the most interesting of the papers is the Apprentice Ribbon Trellis: Thought to have adorned Austen’s bedroom, the rosebud motif bears an error, suggesting that the resource-strapped Austen family may have purchased the wallpaper at a discount. In close collaboration with the museum, Hamilton Weston worked to faithfully reproduce the original pattern, amending what may have been an apprentice’s mistake, just as it restored Chawton Leaf to its intended colorway, a dazzling emerald that makes the dining room “feel a lot cozier and warmer,” Sophie Reynolds, head of collections interpretations, and engagement at the museum, explains.
One could argue that the Jane Austen House Museum took a page out of a book written by Colonial Williamsburg, which has long-standing relationships with several design brands, including F. Schumacher Co., Benjamin Moore, Adelphi Paper Hangings, and Paul Montgomery Studio. Aesthetically, the earliest American settlements—like Jamestown, just five miles from Williamsburg—were relatively spartan, with planked benches to match their whitewashed walls. Yet by the mid to late 18th century, early Americans began to embrace upholstered furniture, silk window treatments, and elaborate wallpapers, ranging from damasks and chinoiseries to large-scale, non-repeating murals like those seen at the Schuyler and Van Rensselaer estates in New York. As the capital of Virginia from 1699 to 1780, Williamsburg emerged as the country’s definitive laboratory for many of these designs. “These buildings here described are justly reputed the best in all of English America,” wrote one observer in 1724. In recent years, longtime Williamsburg licensee Adelphi Paper Hangings has recreated many of the colony’s original wallpapers, including Everard Damask and Everard Medallion–pieces of which were discovered at Williamsburg’s historic Thomas Everard House, built in 1718.
With their Homecoming Collection, Schumacher has likewise introduced a suite of Williamsburg-inspired fabrics, trims, and wallcoverings, including Lafayette Botanical—a late 18th-century French chintz—and Blair Silk Épinglé, which was derived from a coat belonging to Supreme Court Justice John Blair, Jr., one of the last surviving pieces of clothing from Colonial Williamsburg. “These days, so many people want a white, beige, and taupe aesthetic,” says designer Charlotte Moss, who grew up in Virginia and remembers taking school trips to Williamsburg as a child. Yet under the leadership of creative director Dara Caponigro, Schumacher stayed true to what they uncovered in the Williamsburg archive, preserving the original textiles’ level of saturation, definition, and homespun appeal.
Perhaps the most intensive and revelatory of the Williamsburg collaborations has been its partnership with Benjamin Moore. Joining preservationists at Williamsburg, chemists at the paint company performed microscopic analysis on pinhead-sized samples to determine how various colors evolved over time, ultimately identifying 144 separate hues, all original to Colonial Williamsburg. The resulting Williamsburg Paint Color Collection, says Benjamin Moore’s director of color marketing and design Andrea Magno, “offers a balance between beautiful neutrals and pales, eye-catching yet historically accurate bright, and intriguing deeps.” Magno’s favorite? The brighter colors like Palace Blue and Cornwallis Red that customers often use for their front doors.
After centuries of weathering and exposure, the colors seen in historical homes today can appear muted and buttoned-up, even drab. “We have this idea that the past was lived in sepia or full-on black and white,” says Sophie Reynolds of the Jane House Museum. “But when you see the vibrancy of textiles and wallpapers like Chawton Leaf,” she adds, “it makes you realize that life was lived in full color.” Contrary to what one might expect, echoes Joe Wixted, an apprentice at Colonial Williamsburg, “your 18th-century dyer would be able to get you every shade of color imaginable”—a reality that allowed colonial-era homes to shine despite the lack of electric lighting.
Bold color will always be in style, though it’s still interesting to consider why the partnerships pioneered by Colonial Williamsburg and the Jane Austen House Museum are happening now. Sure, homes and materials cherished by the people we cherish will always hold a certain appeal. Yet according to design experts, “traditional” is having a major moment. “Proper decorating is back–and that means old-school prints, velvets, embroideries, damasks, passementerie, well-made curtains, and an overall attention to detail,” Schumacher’s Dara Caponigro says. So too are specific hallmarks of 18th- and early 19th-century design, including handcrafted furniture, original hardwoods, small-scale tiling, elegant trims, and floral wallpapers. “I think colonial is always relevant in American decorating,” reflects Heather Chadduck Hillegas, Williamsburg’s latest designer in residence, whose father made her a Williamsburg-style dollhouse as a child complete with needlepoint rugs, a cedar-shake roof, and hand-laid brick. From the increasing prevalence of treillage latticework and Chippendale-style furnishings to the trend of drenching a room in a single pattern, she says, “the relevance of the colonial aesthetic to modern decorating is undeniable.”
In many ways, this re-engagement with a bygone era of design makes sense given its warm, inviting, and naturally inspired feel. “Since the pandemic, we’ve seen remarkable growth in people wanting to bring nature inside,” remarks Ruth Mottershead, creative director of Little Greene, which has adapted archival material from the homes of Winston Churchill, Beatrix Potter, and William Morris as part of its longstanding partnership with the UK’s National Trust. “Whereas pre-COVID people were inclined to choose an off-white,” she says, “people are making brighter color choices and want happier schemes on the walls.”
For others, what’s even more compelling is the sense of narrative evoked by 19th- and 19th-century design. “It makes it more meaningful—there’s a connection,” says Colonial Williamsburg’s executive director of architectural preservation and research Matt Webster. For designers like Charlotte Moss and Heather Chadduck Hillegas, who have used archival material from Williamsburg in their projects, history offers not just inspiration, but an essential blueprint. “Understanding the past gives us the ability to design better for the now,” reflects Moss. “In a world where we can produce or reproduce anything,” reiterates Hillegas, “I believe historical reference provides a strong decorating compass—a sort of roadmap to home.”
This idea of home has been the lynchpin of every previous colonial revival, many of which have occurred during periods of great uncertainty. “When people feel that something has been around for a long time, there’s more trust, more security, and more safety. They kind of believe in it more,” reflects Ruth Mottershead of Little Greene. Much like the earliest benefactors of Colonial Williamsburg and the Jane Austen House Museum, it is clear that people are again craving an aesthetic return to the past–not in a quixotic or regressive way, but in a way that speaks to what will always be timeless: A roaring fire, a patchwork quilt, a wooden chest, and a bright red door, which beckons the weary traveler home.