One city - three faces

I was initially going to call this blog “One city, two faces”, and then I found myself in the city later at night tonight than I was last night (not hard last night really, as I was in my room by 7pm..) and saw yet another different ‘face’ to Charleston.

Charleston is an old city. I mean really old. I mean colonial times, when the Americans were still British stock, before they became their own independent country. Charleston is a large city, always has been, back in the 1700’s they had a population of 40,000 – which as you can imagine – was a lot for the time. It is also geographically wide-spread, with a network of rivers and harbours encapsulating the peninsula which is essentially the downtown and historic district of Charleston. Initially Charles Town settled on the Northern bank of this peninsula, and decided they weren’t going to be some piddly colony to be messed with – oh no, they wanted to last. So they built a comprehensive sea wall fortification around the Northern banks of the peninsula, and fortified this with large parrot cannons (apparently Mr Parrot invented them). If you go to East Bay Street today, you can see where the old water line used to be, because every second ‘street’ that comes off East Bay Street to the North, is called somebody or another’s “wharf”. These little streets used to be actual wharves, but due to both nature and man influence, the river retreated out further, and the peninsula was built up to more solid ground.

If you go to Old Museum and Dungeon Provost, you can actually go underground and see the different eras of brickwork in the ‘dungeon’ downstairs where they used to do everything from sort mail that had come in from Britan, Spain, France etc, to keep naughty pirates awaiting the gallows. The bottom level of brick is from that initial sea wall fortification – dated at around 1680. It is amazing that given the constant flow of both sea water and natural ground water welling up, that this brickwork is still in better condition than much of the modern brickwork I have seen in my travels! Upon this brick work is built the fortifications that came in the Revolutionary War, and then of course, the Civil War. I am still entirely fascinated by the Civil War, and feel I have so much yet to learn, but thanks to my wonderful tour guide this morning, I think I have a better grip on it today. If you’re not interested in finding out what the hell happened re Civil War, skip the next paragraph. If you are, then by all means, read my abbreviated and much simplified version.

So the United States had come together in some shape to have a central government, and the Northern states had tried slavery, but it didn’t work for them. But in the South.. oh it worked a treat. The climate was exactly right for Africans to work hard in – humid, hot, sun beating down.. and of course this was the exactly wrong climate for the European settlers of the area, whose fair white skin burnt to a crisp if they attempted labouring outside in these conditions. It worked for the South. Slowly but surely the North tried to abolish slavery across all of the United States, and the South didn’t much like this idea. It was a huge industry – billions of dollars of industry – and the Southerners were getting wealthy off slave labour, thankyouverymuch. So instead of just leaving them be, the Northerners tried to impress their ideals upon the South (interestingly enough, a fair portion of the Africans brought over were brought on ships made by the fair people of Boston, who thought it was a great idea until slavery didn’t work out in their climate..). Sound like the America you know today..?? The South said ‘jog on’ and wanted to be left alone to continue in their prosperous ways. The North kept pressing abolition (of slavery) and tension started to rise. There were four presidential candidates that year, and any of them would’ve been just fine with the South… except for Lincoln. The day Charlestonians found out that Abraham Lincoln had been elected the President of the United States was the day that South Carolina seceded from the United States. NO ONE in the South had voted for him, and now they were a minority in their own country, with no representation in government. So they (and many other states.. thirteen in fact) said “hey, ok man, that’s what you want, that’s fine, we’re out of the union”. But Charleston was a very important port you see, with excellent military fortifications (Gen Pierre Beauregard built forts that LASTED), that received all of the goods from overseas they that didn’t have or couldn’t produce locally.. and thus was important in terms of both contributing wealth to the union, and goods. Abe Lincoln couldn’t have this – he needed Charleston in the United States. So a stand off begins, with South Carolina saying “we’re not kidding man, we will use force if we have to to protect our city.. just leave us be..” and the North thought they were bluffing. SC tried to get the union military out of Fort Sumnter, the fortified island in the middle of the Charleston harbour, and they ‘declined in the invitation to leave’. Eventually Beauregard pushed them out (cough cough) and they reclaimed their own fort. If you’re interested in more info here, feel free to give me a shout out, or there’s Google of course, but I learned a lot from the lovely Jack Thompson, tour guide, today, and I feel I have sufficient handle on the local Civil War info.

Anyhoo! My first day I drove in from Myrtle Beach and stopped into Boone Hall Plantation on the way – gorgeous, simply gorgeous. From the gardens to the massive 600 year old oak tree filled with Spanish moss to the cantilever staircase that greets you when you walk in the front door.. the house and gardens are just spectacular. Highly recommended. The Plantation is one of the only ones of its kind that still has the ‘slave street’ in tact.

I then proceeded to Fort Moultrie, the Northern most fortification (like I said, they were serious about ensuring the safety and security of their town..) that is on the Isle of Palms.. which is just gorgeous. I had my first taste of lowcountry shrimp n’ grits here, and it was wonderful. With a full belly I explored the beautiful strip of beach houses (and of course, beach), Fort Moultrie and generally stood and breathed in the beautiful clean salty air and felt that life, at that moment, was pretty darn good.

If you do come to Charleston, I highly recommend checking out Magnolia Cemetery. It is absolutely without a doubt the most gorgeous, soulful, haunting, touching cemetery I have ever been to. As is with all things lowcountry, it is in a swamp, so the graves are tucked in on patches of solid earth around this beautiful swampland, complete with marsh frogs and herons etcetera, and of course, the ever-present Spanish moss, weeping eerily from the many, many trees that are growing in, ON, and around the graves. You’ll see a lot of Confederate flags here, speared proudly into the ground at the feet of loved ones who were obviously staunch Southerners.

The two hour tour with Jack around the Historic District is without a doubt $20 incredibly well spent – the man is a veritable fount of information – throw any question at him and I pretty much guarantee an answer that not only covers the basic response to your question, but embellishes and elaborates upon the original thread of conversation. Not content to just give us our money’s worth by showing us genuine photos of pre-Civil War buildings and streets and then comparing them to the ones standing today (unbelievably, many of the buildings standing today are original, dating even pre-Revolutionary War), he also pointed out birds nesting in the tall trees overhead in Battery Park when I expressed an interest in the local fauna. He tried to get us to put ourselves in the shoes of those citizens living there in 1861, and was a Southern gentleman at all times, offering his arm to me to walk through the park with him (I was one of four on our tour, the other three being a husband, wife, and daughter), and taking off his hat to gently wave thanks at the cars that stopped so we could cross the street. At 72 years old, this man is an inspiration. He does the tour seven days a week ‘rain hail or shine’, and it’s around two hours of walking in the heat, and his brain is sharp as a tack and he’s even written and published a book on the wonders of Historical Downtown Charleston.

I did the usual wandering around taking happy snaps of places and streets and sidewalks (original pre-Revolutionary War slate sidewalks need a photo, don’t you think??) for a few hours, then I went by Magnolia Plantation and Gardens and checked out the amazing swamp gardens – I didn’t do the full gardens or house because at that point (3:30pm), my entire days spent walking and nights spent sleeping only 6 hours or so had caught up with me, and so I crashed at my hotel for a couple of hours’ nap, to get ready for the evening ahead…

Tonight I did my lowcountry cooking class. Lowcountry, by the way, so named because the country is low (duh) – but it is the swamps, marshes, flood-prone areas, that have different soils and different types of foods available, which has melded and shaped the cuisine these people eat, and so, given simply the name ‘lowcountry’. It was a fantastic way to spend a few hours – with like-minded women who enjoy cooking and entertaining – peeling shrimp turned into a hilarious adventure with the ladies I had on my team, and after cooking: lowcountry shrimp n grits; rubbed, glazed, marinated pork ribs; banana pudding; zucchini somethingoranother; and cheddar and proscuitto cheese sticks – I am inspired to give it all a go when I get home. I have stocked up on the ingredients I feel would be a struggle to get at home (namely grits and lowcountry boil spices), so some of you should look out for an invitation in the next few months!

So you have one side of the city, which is historic Charleston, and then you have the other, the Southern side of the peninsula, which is an absolutely gorgeous marina, complete with beautiful waterway wildlife (mostly birds, you know I loves me some birds) and luxurious boats moored next door to fishing boats. Next time I’m in Charleston I’m going to rent a boat and head out into the waterways for a full day of sightseeing and fishing/shrimping. The Southern side seems untouched, I mean I know there’s a bloody great marina right there, but the water is so blue, and the green reedgrass growing in it is so GREEN, and the sky is so blue and it seems so peaceful, and this side of town isn’t as built up as the older side of town.. it really is postcard material.

As I alluded earlier in the blog, the third side of town that I haven’t even remotely explored because I’m being a smart traveler and sticking to early, sober nights, is the nightlife. Now Jack tells me there “isn’t much of a nightlife in Charleston” but I have to beg to differ. If what I saw in the ten minutes it took me to walk from my cooking class back to my car is anything to go by, Charleston is going to be going OFF in the next hour or so. Already there were pubs in full swing, with different live acts – one girl was soulfully singing a rendition of Gotye’s famous and now totally overplayed song; another had live jazz cheerfully blasting out into the street. A bar called the ‘noisy oyster’ looked like a good time, and all in all it was rather tempting to step inside for ‘just one drink’ to soak in the atmosphere. But knowing I have to drive to Savannah first thing tomorrow morning – and it will be first thing, and knowing that I am only me, no friends to keep me company or watch my drink or handbag while I go to the bathroom.. I’m erring on the side of sensible. Although I have to say, I feel completely safe in Charleston. I actually feel much safer in the downtown areas than I do in my motel, so I highly doubt any harm would come to anyone wanting to soak in a bit of the nightlife ambience.

I really do love this town. And it is with a little bit of heaviness in my heart that I’m starting to pack up my little overnight suitcase and get ready to wind down and go to bed. Knowing I’m heading to Savannah tomorrow morning is helping alleviate the sadness though, as I’m 100% sure I’m going to love Savannah.

A little piece of my heart left in Franklin, a little piece left here in Charleston. Three cheers for the genteel Southern cities that don’t feel they need to be overwhelming or commercial or ‘modern’ to win your heart. Hip hip?

Chat soon,
M x