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I was in Savannah a few weeks ago to visit my Aunt Betty, and we spent some time wandering on foot around the historic district.

It was my idea. I’ve seen downtown Savannah countless times, of course, but in the last few years, I haven’t simply strolled aimlessly about. Which is by far the best way to experience the place, especially on an idyllic, sunny autumn day.

We found a parking place on West McDonough Street and walked east toward Orleans Square. When we got to the corner, Betty stopped abruptly.

“Ooooh, Rocky, look at this!” she exclaimed gleefully, pointing to a sign that read:

HARPER-FOWLKES HOUSE
OPEN FOR TOURS W-F 9-3

“This is a beautiful old residence,” she said excitedly. “I’ve known about it all my life, but it’s never been open to the public! I can’t believe they’ve opened it for tours!”

This was a major event: a historical structure in Savannah that Aunt Betty had never been in. It was Wednesday, so I made the only response that was appropriate:

“Well, why are we standing here? Let’s go take the tour.”

Savannah has hundreds of historic buildings that are deemed important enough to have names, but I’d never heard of the Harper-Fowlkes House.

Looking up, I saw a giant, three-story mansion looming overhead. It was inside a compound that occupied an entire city block. And Betty says this is a residence? Wow.

So we walked through the ornate wrought iron gates and up the lavish marble front steps and approached the massive double entrance doors. A hand-lettered sign taped above the lock said, “Please ring bell.” Which we did.

After a long delay, the door opened, slowly and quietly. I half expected to see Lurch, the Addams Family manservant, answering the door with, “You rang?”

Instead, a petite woman appeared and ushered us inside with great formality and politeness. She welcomed us to the mansion, asked us to sign the guest register, and disappeared.

Betty and I stood in the entrance hall, looking around at the columns and marble and gilded mirrors. Overhead was an large elliptical opening to the upper floors. It was like standing in the Capitol Rotunda.

A minute later, a second gentile lady appeared. She was our tour guide. No other visitors were in sight, so we got to touring forthwith.

I won’t describe the house here, The H-F website does a good enough job of that. But the history of the place, some of it related to us by the guide and some dug up later by me, is pretty fascinating.

The house was first owned by Stephen Gardner, a rich Savannah dude who bought it during construction in 1842. Stephen promptly fell on hard times, and the house was sold to another local aristocrat, Aaron Champion.

The house was passed down to a succession of Champions and their kin until 1939, when it was bought by an amazing lady, Alida Harper.

Alida Harper must have been a truly delightful person. By all accounts, she was happy and charismatic — tough, hard-working, and irrepressible, a la Amelia Earhart and Molly Brown.

From an early age, Alida was a charmer and a natural entrepreneur. In college in Virginia and Georgia, she excelled in art. After returning to Savannah, she opened a studio and embraced life as a socialite.

She started several businesses and parlayed them into successful careers as a gallery owner and restaurateur. She became an antiques dealer who traveled regularly to Europe.

And, in time, she became well-known for her role in historic preservation.

Over the years, using her own earnings, Alida purchased historic buildings in Savannah and restored them. She converted many to rental apartments, investing the income toward future purchases.

Inevitably, she became a leader in the growing movement to preserve and restore Savannah’s historic downtown, which had been declining for decades.

There is a story that as a young girl, Alida regularly rode the Barnard Street bus past the imposing “Gardner-Champion House,” and she often told herself that someday, she would own it.

Probably a fanciful tale. But in 1939, Alida did buy it — not just as a restoration project, but as a home. On New Year’s Eve, she and her mother moved in.

Alida purchased the house at a bank auction for $9,000. According to reports, the bank stamped “WOMAN” across the top of her mortgage papers.

In 1945, Alida married one of her tenants, Hunter Fowlkes, but the poor fellow died of natural causes 18 months later. Alida remained in the house and continued her work until she died in 1985, age 77.

Alida had carefully furnished her home over the years to her own taste, and it became a fine example of the mid-1800s style. All of the furnishings, chandeliers, mirrors, silver, china, and crystal, were hers.

She had no heirs, but she wanted the house to be preserved for future generations. What to do?

Alida’s father and brother had been long-time members of the Society of the Cincinnati, a patriotic organization founded by officers who fought in the Revolutionary War.

Knowing the organization and its aims, Alida bequeathed the house to the Georgia Chapter of the Society of the Cincinnati to be used as state headquarters.

Her will stipulated that the house must be properly maintained and can never be sold. The gentlemen of the Cincinnati had no problem with that.

In 1783, when the Society of the Cincinnati was founded, it adopted this premise:

The Officers of the American Army, having generally been taken from the citizens of America, possess high veneration for the character of that illustrious Roman Lucius Quintius Cincinnatus; and being resolved to follow his example by returning to their citizenship, they think they may with propriety denominate themselves the Society of the Cincinnati.

Cincinnatus is known for his quotation, “And now we will pound our swords into plowshares and proceed with peace.”

Inside the Harper-Fowlkes House are three large oil-on-canvas portraits that, in my mind, shed light on Alida’s sense of history and perhaps foreshadowed her ultimate plans for the house.

One portrait is of Joseph Clay, a Georgian, painted in 1722. Clay was a member of the Continental Congress.

The second is a military portrait of “Colonel Habersham,” painted after the Revolutionary War. Habersham, another Georgian, is shown clutching a sword close to his chest. He was a founding member of the Society of the Cincinnati.

The third portrait, from the same period, is an unusually realistic painting of Major John Berrien, another Georgian, who served with distinction throughout the Revolutionary War. Berrien, one of the founding members of the Society of the Cincinnati, was the first president of the Georgia Chapter.

I suspect some clues are there.