By: Mollie Bowman

Despite living in Charleston for almost four years now and having visited many times prior to moving here, I had never walked through the doors of the Charleston Museum. Recently, I decided to finally cross through the doors and learn more about the history of Charleston. The museum was––unsurprisingly––filled with many interesting artifacts from throughout history. 

While walking through the Lowcountry History Hall, I came into contact with many items from the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. These pieces ranged from works of ornate pottery, to pistols, to Native American artifacts, and to items that were connected to the institution of slavery in Charleston. While I have lived in South Carolina for most of my life and therefore feel that I understand the state’s history quite well, it was truthfully rather strange and surreal to see many of these physical items. I have learned so much about their context and have been fully aware of many of the artifacts I saw, yet actually seeing these items added a new layer of recognition on my part of the true reality of the history I have been taught about.

What really caught my attention while in the museum and what I have continued to think about since visiting was the display of “slave badges.” I had previously seen photos of similar badges, but seeing them in person was rather shocking. I think it is important to preserve and display these items because they really embody and display the horrific reality of the lives of enslaved persons in Charleston, as well as how many lives and stories were both lost and subjected to this horrifying reality. Something I did not know about these badges was that they were unique to the city of Charleston which displays just how ingrained slavery was here during this period. It was just pretty overwhelmingly horrific to look at the many literal tags (though few in comparison to how many there really were) that people were forced to wear, and I think it is important to expose that reality to our contemporary society. 

Alongside these slave badges was another badge called the “free badge,” which any free black people in Charleston were forced to wear. If it was not visible, they would be faced with charges or a sentence of hard labor. This badge was similarly grim, as its being made at all clearly displays that “freedom” was clearly not free. This badge displays the liberty cap and pole that we have discussed in class and was only utilized in Charleston from 1783 to 1789, making it really relevant to the period we are studying. This badge was not something that I was aware of––unlike the slave badges––but that seems quite telling not only of their limited use time-wise but perhaps of their limited use in general. 

These badges as a whole really struck me because, as mentioned earlier, they add a stronger sense of physical, concreteness to the realities I have learned about through my life. It is crucial to see artifacts like this because they force us to think about the horrors of history and expose us to the realities of the not-so-far gone past. 

by Patrick J. Wohlscheid

Walking around East Bay and Broad Streets toward the Old Exchange Building and Provost Dungeon, slipping into Washington Square as a shaded detour, seems to exemplify the historical (and especially architectural) history that Charleston has cultivated for itself. The positioning of the Old Exchange Building, itself centered at the end of the long street, is an appropriate placement for a historical site that served as the center of a great deal of political, social, and cultural activity in the late-18^th century—both for South Carolina and the eventual United States.

Though the Provost Dungeon might be the most exciting point of interest for visitors (who doesn’t want to visit a dungeon, one that held prisoners of the British during the American Revolution), I was most struck by the political importance of the second floor of the Exchange. Even before the American Revolution, the “Great Hall” of the Exchange was used as the site for electing delegates to the First Continental Congress in 1774, and the outside steps as a public arena for the Declaration of Independence to be read in 1776. During the early 1780s, the building was primarily used for martial purposes under the control of the English, but again entirely returned to its revolutionary political contexts in the later part of the decade, as in 1788 the US Constitution was ratified in the Great Hall. This space, which is now occupied by some antique furniture and public history banners, struck me primarily by how empty it seemed. In a way, the grand space almost parallels the way that these events and philosophical documents are portrayed in American cultural memory. Though historically situated, things like the Declaration and the Constitution are seen (and for some reasons, I think, rightly so) as documents positioned as universal, existing outside of time

However, I see the large copy of the Constitution sitting in the center of the room, which visitors can sign as if they are part of the ratification. I signed my name, small in the corner, already losing sight of it amidst the swell of other signatures. The material contributions to this document and its ratification in this Great Hall bring it out of the rhetorical vacuum, back into a specific historical moment which the Old Exchange Building particularly conveys. The tensions I think of in this particular space, between particular and universal, historical and timeless, are some of the tensions that I think literary study captures so well, too. The banners that discuss the role of women and enslaved peoples throughout the building also capture the specificity with which we should think about Charleston in the 18^th-century. On the second floor, the Constitution and Declaration history is “flashier” or perhaps more interesting to many. But juxtaposed with it the discussions of the leaders who frequented the Exchange Building, many of them slave owners, and most all of them men, greatly complicate the grand narrative of the Great Hall. Writing this, I relate this particularly to our course discussions of Franklin and Jefferson, founding fathers with eccentric and interesting literary lives, but whose actions (and even a great deal of their writing) exemplifies the contradictions of 18^th-century American life and literature.

by Caroline Lamm

Upon a first-time visit to the Charleston Museum located on Meeting Street, I was amazed by the collection of historical artifacts as well as the historical importance of the city of Charleston! I am ashamed to admit that for my third year living here, I have yet to visit any historical site in Charleston. However, I was skeptical that this museum would be so thorough due to the overwhelming amount of historical sites all over the city. It is safe to say this tour opened my eyes to the incredible extent of history here in Charleston, South Carolina.

The museum was chronologically organized in exhibits by time period, starting from the earliest and moving to the latest. For the eighteenth century section in particular, it was entitled “Becoming Americans,” outlining Charleston’s role in the American Revolution. Upon entry into this exhibition, there was a large painting on the wall of the Charleston harbor during the war. Something about this that really stuck out to me was the information next to the artwork which stated that on the eve of the American Revolution, Charleston was the fourth largest city in the country. This was a fact I would have never guessed and was incredibly interesting to learn about. 

From there, I was intrigued by all of the artifacts that were displayed and the information describing them and their meaning. However, a specific artifact that really caught my eye was the powder horn. As the information states, these horns are made from the outer sheath of cow horns. Upon further research, I discovered that these horns were used for carrying gunpowder, which is a reflection of the wartime. Specifically representing this time period and the American Revolution, the powder horn demonstrates the main form of weaponry used during this time: guns. 

With that being said, you may be curious as to why a horn that carries gunpowder would be something that catches my eye so intensely. This is because of the detailed designs carved into the cow horns. The museum plaque stated that these horns were generally carried by militiamen (which would make sense) and were typically decorated with their names and/or the places they served. This is wildly intriguing because it indicates that each powder horn looks different as it is decorated by the individual. This can also be seen by the difference in decoration of the three horns displayed in the case. Looking closely at the second photo provided, it is clear to see the detail in this craft. This horn in particular is illustrating the British Royal coat-of-arms, forts, and a horse. This is also a reflection of the American Revolution as it depicts the other side America was at war with. 

I suspect this is something that was preserved and displayed for many reasons. For one, militiamen carrying gunpowder in a contraption made from a cow horn is something that hasn’t been seen since this very time period, due to technological advancements. Similarly, each powder horn carries its own unique story, which is something worth preserving and displaying. In terms of its significance here in Charleston, these powder horns are demonstrative of the state/battle involvement of the city during this crucial time period. In general, however, the beauty of these powder horns lies in the creativity and craftsmanship illustrated in the carvings.