Letters & Mortar Shells

by Elizabeth Askins

A Letter Telling of a Revolution

This particular letter was written in 1779 by a Mr. Abraham Lott to General Nathanael Green. I found this manuscript residing on the Lowcountry Digital Libraries’ website in the Charleston Museum Collection of Revolutionary War Letters. The letter details Lott’s poor health, the current state of the military affairs, and even his family. There is a current stronghold in Charlestown where companies of men are stationed, and the enemy has recently retreated. I was surprised to see Lott mentioning his family to General Green, clearly, they were decently close friends.

I found this manuscript incredibly hard to read, and not just because of the small, watermark-like cursive. I could only make out bits and pieces of the story, so I relied heavily on the description from The Charleston Museum Archives. The paper is rather yellowed, and the creases muddle the words a bit. The ink has also faded a decent amount, almost as if it was written with watercolor paint. Who knows? Maybe Lott was running out of ink.

The writing takes up the entire page with little white space, though it looks fairly neatly written. Abraham Lott must have been running out of paper, but not in a rush, as his letter is very lengthy yet shoved into one page. This letter gives personality to those fighting in the war that, otherwise, we may not have known about.

Mortar that Mortally Wounds

These five mortar shells can be found in the Digital Public Library of America. They date back to the Revolutionary War and were used in White Plains, Battle of New York that occurred in 1776.

      As you can expect, being hit with one of these would cause great bodily harm to someone.They are dark in color, and some of them have chips and are broken in half. By using the hand in the photo for reference, these shells are about the size of a dodgeball, though I would predict these come at you a great deal faster and leave a lasting impact as opposed to rubber. The notes on the image describe the height and condition of these shells, though they are hard to read.

It amazes me how the shell on the far left is broken. What could this solid mortar shell have hit to crack it in half? A note reads, “fragment of exploded shell showing bolts and bullets”. This describes whoever made these mortar shells as resourceful, and even a responsible recycler! The notes denote that some of the shells vary in weight, denoting shells of 71 pounds, 75 pounds, and even a hefty 84 pounds. I could only imagine one of these soaring at me on a battlefield riddled with flying bullets, sharp bayonets, and swinging swords as drummer boys played in the background.

Home Street Home

This Cruet Set at the Charleston Museum has been preserved and displayed because it belonged to Governor Arnoldus Vanderhorst. He served under General Francis Marion in the Revolutionary War, was a member of the South Carolina House of Representatives, served in the South Carolina Senate, was the Mayor of Charleston, became the governor of South Carolina in 1794, and owned a successful sea island cotton plantation on Kiawah Island. Vanderhorst was sadly a slave owner and retired to his cotton plantation after leaving his governorship.

This Cruet Set was made in London by the silversmiths Godbehere and Wigan. This item was originally made for holding oil and vinegar, typically made from silver and glass. I find this set unique to the period, because it was owned by an important Patriot who would later become governor of South Carolina. What makes it even more special, is that it was crafted in London, England. America gained freedom in 1783, this Cruet Set was made in 1788, Vanderhorst was named South Carolina’s governor in 1794. Ironically, these luxury items made their way to this new country, having been recently freed from British rule. I think the fact that a former Patriot officer owned this luxury item made in Britain is a middle finger to Britain post-Revolutionary War. To me, it says, “we won the war, are doing fine on our own, and can still afford your luxuries.”

I chose this particular item in the museum because the name Vanderhorst caught my eye while looking at the beautiful items in this particular showcase. I currently live on Vanderhorst Street in the historic district, so I assumed the name Vanderhorst had some significance to the low country but had never taken the time to research it. Funny enough, last week my father (a devout South Carolinian and somewhat of a self-proclaimed historian) called and told me about who Vanderhorst Street was named after. All I can recall him saying from his long spiel was, “slave owner” and “Francis Marion”. At the time I was rushing to class to take an exam, dodging cars amidst the Calhoun traffic and was not very concerned about the history of the street I currently live on. Little did I know, Arnoldus Vanderhorst was a slave-owning Patriot who fought under General Francis Marion and was once our governor. Admittedly, I should have listened to my dad when he first told me this story, but it is nice to finally put a name and a story to my street. I included a photo of Vanderhorst Street post Hugo below. I decided against posting where I actually live, for obvious reasons.

Sources

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/73/Arnoldus_Vanderhorst_%28South_Carolina_Governor%29.jpg

https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSqtmw_qNDhQ6Lo7MGgd9ewfAsNtiORUoGbNA&usqp=CAU