Category Archives: Southern Seaboard
Piracy in Charleston S.C, The Pirate House
Sometimes it’s not the truth, but the story which makes for a historical attraction. A case-in-point: The Pirate House in Charleston, South Carolina.
People have strolled the cobblestones of the French Quarter and down Church Street, past this bermuda stone dwelling since 1704, but when it took on the disinction of the Pirate House is lost to time. Legend has it that the Pirate House was a boarding house, gambling den and place for local merchants to trade in contraband goods, provided by pirates during the colonial era. South Carolina was under the English Navigation law, which placed high taxes on all purchases imported by ship into the colonies. These tariffs made purchasing not only luxury items, but day-to-day items cost-prohibitive. In addition to price, selection was paltry, and smuggling provided a way to counteract the effects of the law on both. According to the story, the Pirate House was one of the spots where this trade went on. Further stories have it that a secret tunnel led into the stone archways in the basement of the house, but that during work on Charleston’s sewage system, this tunnel and others which provided access to trade during the days of smuggling were filled in. In the basement of the Dock Street Theatre, a couple blocks away, it’s still possible to see what is alleged to be the access to one of these tunnels.
Sandwiched between the Pirate House and the St. Phillips Church Cemetery, is a narrow passageway which takes you into Pirates Courtyard, a leafy space dominated on one side by a restored fountain. Which is nice, don’t get me wrong, but leaves you, like the house, scratching your head and wondering just what the connection with pirates actually is. It’s said that like the house itself, the courtyard was used for trading in smuggled goods. And it’s also intimidated that the house was known for “entertaining” pirates, or at least putting them up for the evening. Of course the most famous pirate rumored to have frequented the place is Blackbeard.
Pirates Courtyard, The Pirate House, Charleston, SC
It’s hard to avoid references to Blackbeard in Charleston, and rightly so. Blackbeard’s most audacious act took place here, when he blockaded the harbor with his fleet and held the entire town hostage for a ransom of, oddly enough, medicine.
With a handful of ships under his command, Blackbeard had styled himself Commodore, and in May of 1718 he anchored off Charles Town bar, and proceeded to stop and plunder every ship which tried to sail past. Over the next week they succeeded in accosting nine vessels, and took a plethora of well-heeled prisoners, who they kept as hostages. Blackbeard’s orders were brief, fill a list of medications or all the prisoners would have their heads lobbed off and sent to the governor of South Carolina, and the ships put to the torch. Blackbeard sent a fellow by the name of Mr. Marks, accompanied by two of his crew to retrieve the small trunk of medicine. It’s thought that the medicine Blackbeard was wanting was for treatment of the clap, which might explain the Commodore’s urgency.
After three days there was no sign of Mr. Marks or the two pirates, and Blackbeard was fuming, threatening to put the entire town to the torch. A messenger arrived with word that Marks and the pirates had been capsized after leaving the ship, and had to walk to Charleston. Blackbeard extended his deadline, but to show he meant business, sailed his fleet into the harbor itself. Mr. Marks finally made it back with the medicine, explaining his further delay had been caused by an inability to find his pirate escorts, who had spent their time in Charleston drunk.
Fountain at the Pirates Courtyard
At that Blackbeard released the ships and hostages, though taking anything of value, including all the clothes of several persons, who had to come back to Charleston in the buff.
So it’s easy to believe that after this, Blackbeard would have been unlikely to have returned to Charleston. And it’s pretty much out of the question that Blackbeard’s treasure might be buried in the basement of the Pirate House, or in the passage, which is another rumor attached to the dwelling.
In fact, there is scant evidence that Blackbeard every actually walked the streets of Charles Town, or Charleston as it later became. His entire pirate career lasted less than five years, and most of that was likely spent at sea or in New Providence, in the West Indies.
Blackbeard’s end happened in North Carolina, and his head taken to Virginia along with what remained of his crew. But the legend persists that his skull, or at least the top part of his skull came back to Charleston, where it was fashioned into a drinking cup.
Anchor, The Pirate House
So the odds are against Commodore Teach every having walked across the threshold of the Pirate House. That the place might have been frequented by other, lesser known rogues and scoundrels is entire possible, but to insist on historical accuracy is beside the point. Who knows how many people over the past three hundred years have felt the rush of the proximity to piracy when they stood in front of the old house, with the 75 pound anchor mounted on the outside wall. The anchor itself fell victim to piracy a few years back. It was eventually replaced, and the bottom floor is now available for rent as a bed and breakfast.
Which is pretty nice option when visiting Charleston. In a great location downtown – and Charleston is a great city for walking – it’s easy to believe that you’re sleeping in the same room which once housed pirates and their plunder. And sometimes when it comes to history, believing it’s true is just about as good as being true.
View more images from Charleston, SC or buy Charleston art prints
Yorktown Battlefield Historic Site: Vive la Yorktown!
It’s a cliche of course, but no less true, the statement by George Santayana, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
I’m reminded of this for two reasons. First was a quote by Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney in last week’s Republican debate, “Our troops should not go off and fight a war of independence for another country.”
The second reason, is I just got back from a trip that included a visit to Yorktown Battlefield, part of the Colonial National Historical Park. Most Americans have heard of Yorktown, the place where the British surrendered to Washington and ended the American Revolution.
The past which Americans too often frequently forget in this case, is that the French were instrumental in the victory at Yorktown. In fact, there likely would never have been a battle at Yorktown, had not a French admiral made the decision to make his stand there.
France didn’t simply offer support to our cause. Rather they were partners, the first country to recognize the colonies as separate from England, a move which caused England to declare war on France. The French recognized in our cause and in our resolve, ideals worth fighting for, and were the first to recognize the distinct possiblility that we might actually win. I would also suppose that they knew it would get England’s goat was a bonus.
In 1780, 5,500 French soldiers landed in Rhode Island to assist their American allies in operations against British-controlled New York City. Following the arrival of dispatches from France that included the possibility of support from the French West Indies fleet of the Comte de Grasse, Washington and Rochambeau decided to ask de Grasse for assistance either in besieging New York, or in military operations against a British army operating in Virginia, under the command of Lord Cornwallis. DeGrasse chose the Chesapeake Bay, where Cornwallis had taken command of the army. Cornwallis, at first given confusing orders by his superior officer, Henry Clinton, was eventually ordered to make a defensible deep-water port, which he began to do at Yorktown, Virginia. Cornwallis’s movements in Virginia were shadowed by a Continental Army force led by the Marquis de Lafayette, another French man, sent south by Washington to harass the British and Loyalist forces there.
The additonal 6,000 French troops now in Rhode Island was a welcome addition for Washington, who had been playing a game of cat and mouse, (mainly mouse), with the British since the beginning of the war. Washington was of a mind to recapture New York City, but the French wanted to move the theatre of operations south. Due to recent success on the part of the colonials in South Carolina against both British and Loyalist troops, Cornwallis was stretched a bit thin. As a result, he was counting on reinforcements which were to come by sea, from a fleet direct by Sir Thomas Graves.
The American and French armies met in White Plains, north of New York City in the summer to debate where to strike. Washington kept pushing for New York City, even though Rochambeau and Washington’s own advisors were against it. Rochambeau refused to overrule Washington, insisting that he had come to serve, not to command. Then the missive from DeGrasse arrived, inviting Washington south for joint festivities against the British.
DeGrasse, the comander of the French fleet made the decision to take the action to Cornwallis in Virgina, and arrived in the Chesapeake Bay at the end of August, 1781, with additional troops, ships and 500,000 silver pesos offered by Spain from Havana, Cuba, to pay the troops and for the expenses of the operations. Spain also provided support for the French merchant ships in the Atlantic, which allowed DeGrasse to bring up his entire fleet, which he positioned for a blockade of Yorktown.
Now convinced that heading south south was the right plan of action, before leaving New York, Washington threw up earthworks, complete with large bread ovens, within site of New York City, to convince the British he was settling in for a long campaign. The ruse worked, and Washington and Rochambeau ducked south.
DeGrasse unloaded his 3,000 soldiers to join up with the Marquis de Lafayette at Williamsburg, Virgina, recently arrived with his 1,200 men, then went back to pick up Washington and Rochambeau’s troops, now heading south. Once in place, the allies had about 17,600 soldiers to pit against Cornwallis and his 8,300 British regulars and German Hessians. Fortunately, the British had been taken in by Washington’s fake lines around New York, and weren’t planning to head south till a desparate plea came from Cornwallis. In New York, General Clinton, Cornwallis’ superior replied that he would send 5,000 men from New York on October 5. When Cornwallis received the message, he knew his goose was cooked, as holding out that long would prove impossible.
The Visitor’s Center at Yorktown Battlefield, part of Colonial National Historical Park is located inside what was the British inner line. It was to this line, which skirts the Visitor’s Center that Cornwallis pulled his troops back upon the arrival of the allies. Washington and Rochambeau immediately took over the abandoned outer British defenses, and used them as a staging area to build their first row of trenches, which were then heavily fortified with Colonial and French guns. On October 9 they opened fire, bombarding the line and the town continuously and by October 11, the British guns had been more or less silenced.
This allowed the allies to build a second line, only 400 yards from the British, and when the sun rose on October 12, the British saw that they could now be fired upon by artillery from almost point blank range. Hampering the completion of this second line however, were two British forts, Redoubts 9 and 10. These two forts were captured on the night of October 14, with the French paying more in blood for control of Redoubts 10, than the Colonials did for Redoubts 9. With the forts captured, the line was completed and Cornwallis saw that to stay meant devastation. On the morning of the 16th, Cornwallis directed an attack on the French center of the allied line, which was easily repulsed, though it did give Cornwallis a reprieve from the bombardment for a few hours. That evening, he attempted to escape from Yorktown by ferrying his troops across the York River in small boats. But after the first wave of troops reached the opposite shore, a violent windstorm erupted and the operation had to be called off.
The British defences from the allies second line, Yorktown Battlefield, Yorktown, Virginia.
Click here to view larger, order fine art prints or view more photos from Yorktown Battlefield
Cornwallis and the British were now well and truly screwed, and he knew it. And so on October 17, a drummer and a British officer with a white flag appeared at the top of the trenches, to pass notes intended to open the way for a discussion about terms of surrender. On the 18th, the terms were hammered out at the Moore House, now restored and open to the public at Yorktown Battlefield. Then on October 19, the British marched down what is now known as Surrender Road, between rows of Colonial and French soldiers, and laid down their arms, effectively ending the American Revolution, and gaining independence for the 13 colonies.
The area encompassing Yorktown Battlefield is pretty extensive, and to walk to all the sites would easily require a full day. And so for those with a limited amount of time to visit, the driving tour is perhaps the best bet. Covering most of the high points of Yorktown Battlefield, the entire route can be visited in a couple of hours or so. For those with short attention spans or those incapable of looking over a landscape and imagining what took place, the visit is likely to be a disappointment. Yorktown wasn’t a battle filled with heroic charges and massed conflict. There was no colonial equivalent of Pickett’s Charge, and so the number of memorials present at Yorktown pale in comparison to a battlefield such as Gettysburg. There are a number of cannons still in place, in particular the Grand French Battery, and Surrender Field, where the British laid down their arms is unique among American Battlefields, in that the centerpiece of the park is a place of peace, not of war.
The village of Yorktown itself is well worth a walk, at least down its main street, still sporting several colonial-era buildings, some of which were instrumental in the history of the siege of Yorktown. Over 80% of the town’s buildings were destroyed in the occupation and siege, but enough remains to make Yorktown one of the more quaint colonial village in this country. You won’t find souvenir shops lining the street, and in fact, Yorktown is one of the best places I’ve been to wander freely and feel the ability to lose track of the present.
Which isn’t the case unfortunately with the rest of Yorktown Battlefield. Several busy roads cut across the park, and traffic, while not overly busy, is enough to make scurrying from location to location on the driving route a bit hair-raising at times. For those not interested in the driving tour, a stop at the Yorktown Visitor Center will likely do the trick. There’s an informative 15 minute film orientating you and bringing you up to date with the siege of Yorktown, a fairly interesting museum with several items directly related to the battle, and pretty decent shop with books on the southern campaigns, the Revolution in general, and other colonial related merchandise. To enter the historical buildings requires a pass, $10 per adult, good for seven days at both Yorktown and nearby Jamestown, home of the first permanent English settlement in North America.
In the end, the Colonials lost about 125 men, the French 253 and the British 552, killed, wounded and missing. About 8,000 were taken prisoner. Cornwallis reported to General Clinton in New York, “I have the mortification to inform your Excellency that I have been forced to give up the posts of York and Gloucester, and to surrender the troops under my command, by capitulation on the 19th instant, as prisoners of war to the combined forces of America and France.”
And so ended the last major engagement of the American Revolution. By then, after victories at Saratoga, Cowpens, Yorktown and others, the British realized that the Colonials were a force to be reckoned with. And perhaps most importantly, when combined with the French, and the stirrings of support from other European powers, the battle for control of the American colonies couldn’t be won.
Perhaps without French help, the Colonies might have been able to pull out a victory, but I doubt it. The colonies were broke, the army in tatters much of the time, and Britain was simply too strong. And anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s fun to speculate when it comes to history, but the truth was, the French were there, and were instrumental in securing our independence. That’s something to keep in mind when participating in the curiously American pasttime of slagging the French. In fact, now that a large majority of Americans believe that the 2003 invasion of Iraq was, as the French tried to warn us, a mistake, it might be possible to once and for all put to rest the term Freedom Fries, and return the American chip to its former name – which after all is Thomas Jefferson’s work.
To learn more:
South Carolina’s Low Country: A Jimmy Buffet lifestyle meets the old South
To view more photos or order prints from South Carolina’s Low Country, click here
People call it the lowcountry, or low country, and it’s made up of the coastal lands south of Charleston, South Carolina, including Beaufort, Colleton, Hampton and Jasper counties. Some include Charleston, some don’t. Some include Myrtle Beach. But all seem to agree that it’s as much a state of mind as a geographic area.
I just spent a week in the lowcountry, in a house on Edisto Beach, where I’m assured by the travel literature that I’ve had the real island living experience.
Lowcountry refers to the fact that much of the land is at sea level. In short, much of the time you’re in a swamp, or to put it euphemistically, a coastal wetland. There’s beauty in the lowlands. A subtle beauty perhaps – wild, earthy and damp. Shooting photos along side Store Creek, I found myself growing increasingly creeped out when I remembered that I was less than a hundred yards away from a tourist attraction called the Serpentarium. The point was drilled home a day or two later when I noticed a freshly squashed rattlesnake on the highway.
The first evening there we were treated to a dramatic thunderstorm, complete with torrential rains. The dunes lay between my screened-in porch and the beach, spanned by a boardwalk. Usually this is to protect the dunes. But these dunes aren’t covered with dune grass. Instead you have your own private swamp between you and the beach, and after the storm, the frogs started. Eventually I had to call someone to let them hear the chorus, which eventually got so loud we literally had to go inside to escape the sound. The next night, and all subsequent nights they were gone.
I’m not a beach person. I prefer my beaches strewn with stones and boulders rather than sand. But I can adapt to warm water. Don’t get me wrong, Edisto Beach is certainly a nice place to spend a week or two. But at times it feels more like a plantation lifestyle, rather than a Jimmy Buffet song.
There are former plantations a plenty on Edisto Island, but most are in private hands, and the only view you’ll likely get is of an avenue of oaks behind wrought iron gates. Edisto island was settled during the early days of our country, first by the Spanish, then by the English. Commerce thrived with the production of sea island cotton, considered the king of all cottons, and untold wealth poured into the area up to the Civil War. Or the War Between the States, the Confederate War, or whatever your politics lead you to call it.
This wealth was made possible with slave labor, and there’s no getting around that. By most reports, slavery in the low country was less abhorrent than in other places, not only because of a system which gave the slave more free time to live their life, but perhaps a bit more respect as well. But there were atrocities too.
And the low country is certainly haunted. There are enough legends and stories to keep a ghost-hunter busy for some time.
The war slowed commerce, and the boll weevil finished the cotton trade. Farming now consists of vegetables, fruits and tourists.
Edisto Beach is certainly one of the less touristy spots a person could visit. There are only a few gift shops in town, a scattering of restaurants and most refreshingly, very few tourist traps. There is also only one grocery store in town, and one liquor store. If you come for a visit, it’s best to come prepared, or be prepared to pay.
You come onto the island down SC 174, and there’s no getting away from the fact that you’re in the deep south. Alongside the highway you find farm stands – fruit, boiled peanuts, sweet corn and a variety of sea creatures ready to boil. There are also churches dotting the landscape, at times less than a mile apart.
There’s no escaping the poverty. Many of the houses lining the highway are little more than shacks, with blacks sitting on the porches, trying to avoid the heat. One out of five residents on Edisto island under the age of 18 are below the poverty line, and over one in three over the age of 65. The median household income for the island is just under 26,000. But once you hit Edisto Beach, it jumps to $54,400. The percentage of blacks, which is at 40% on the whole island, drops to below 3% in Edisto Beach.
In short, as someone told me down there, they just haven’t gotten the hang of desegregation. Instead of working the plantations, now blacks work the Piggly Wiggly.
The lowcountry gullah culture of the African-Americans has preserved more of their African heritage than anyplace else in the United States. In fact, it’s one of the biggest tourist attractions to the area. Unfortunately, there seems to be less interest in the individual as there is in the culture. In the 140 page South Carolina Low Country Tourist Guide, there are no black families enjoying the beach and sites. Only living history demonstrators and performers.
But hey! It’s the old south, and if this kind of thing bothers you, you’re in the wrong place. As Lynyrd Skynyrd pointed out to Neil Young, who took Alabama to task for the treatment of blacks in Alabama, “southern man don’t need him around, anyhow.” The politics are nuanced and well beyond me, and besides, I was on vacation.
Sitting at home now, a few days later, scratching my chigger and mosquito bites, as well as poison ivy and other assorted bites and rashes, I find myself missing the place. But I just can’t put my finger on why.
On Edisto Beach, bottle-nosed dolphins swim just off -shore, sometimes in twos and threes. The sunsets are majestic, the light dancing over the wetlands magical. And gnarled oaks hung heavily with Spanish moss is about as magical as you can get. There’s history for those who look for it, but once again, it’s a subtle history. An abandoned plantation here, a ruined church there. A minor battle or skirmish from the revolution or War Between the States. Subtle enough that you get a feeling of discovery when you come across them, and all draped in that magical moss.
Then there’s Beaufort. Instantly recognizable for anyone who saw Forrest Gump, it’s an example of the southern tendency to remember and live with its past. If you were to suddenly materialize in New York City, Chicago, London – any number of increasingly faceless cities – you’d have a hard time knowing where you were. But find yourself in Beaufort, or it’s larger sister, Charleston, and you’ll instantly know you’re in the south. The architecture stuns the senses with grandeur and intricate details. Civic buildings, shops and houses aren’t pulled down as frequently for new projects. Instead, new businesses go into old structures. In places, whole towns seems like one interconnected historical attraction. It’s not living history, the people there are surrounded by history every day.
And then there’s the landscape. The wetlands, the oaks dripping with Spanish moss, as well as the baking heat, all come together to give the area a sense of identity. One that can’t be altered by architectural styles, history or politics.
Maybe that’s the key to island living. Life and change moves slowly, and some things never change. Like a pile of shrimp at the end of the day, rum drinks with fruit juices and the sun sinking into the sea, wondering where the time goes.
Also posted in South Carolina
Tagged art prints, historical attractions, low country, south carolina lowcountry, travel photographer
2 Comments
The Militia Grounds at Colonial Williamsburg
The Militia Grounds at Colonial WIlliamsburg, WIlliamsburg, Virginia
To view more photos or order prints from Colonial Williamsburg, click here
Most towns of any size in the colonial era had a training ground for the local militia. The militia was originally intended to defend against attacks by native Americans, as well as other foreign colonies, which were more widespread than one might believe. The Dutch, English, Spanish and even the Swedish had a presence early on, and the various colonies didn’t always get along. Today, the militia grounds at Colonial Williamsburg is the site of many events and demonstrations, and with the architectural reconstructions, a great example of what a militia ground would have looked like during that era.
