By Mallory Maples!

On Friday, I decided to visit the Charleston Museum off of Meeting Street. I pass by this place every day on my commute to school, so I’d been wanting to go for a while; getting assigned to do this blog post only gave me a reason to visit sooner! I “dragged” my boyfriend along, but since he’s a nerd like me, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and made a date out of it. (Not pictured was the thirty-minute-long game of checkers we played in the kid’s exhibit.) 

The first thing that stood out to me was the fact that this is the country’s first museum! It was founded in 1773, which is right within the time period we’re studying and just before the Revolutionary War began. I love museums, so the fact that my city has the oldest one in the country is super cool to me. This museum, and some of its artifacts, have been in the Charleston Area two hundred-something years and seen both the Revolutionary and Civil Wars. It’s tough to even fathom that time span, and even tougher to conceptualize that some of the pottery, tobacco pipes, and weaponry I viewed were actually touched and used by people from a different time. 

I spent a lot of time checking out the weapons. I’m typically a blade girl, but there were so many old firearms that I couldn’t help but marvel at such works of destruction. I’ve always thought that conflict runs as deep in the human psyche as love does, and looking at Revolutionary-era weapons just reinforced this sentiment. No matter the time, people will always make things to defend themselves, to hunt prey, or just to cause pain.  

The old artillery (pictured above!) caught my attention most of all. The largest piece, at the far left of the closest row, was 320 pounds. Talk about haunting. I can hardly imagine what kind of havoc it could wreak; that thing could tear chunks out of the side of a battlement or send a platoon of soldiers scattering like bowling pins… And it probably did! Standing a foot away from it, at rest, was humbling.  

Today we think of war as technological, full of counterintelligence, surveillance equipment, and high-stealth aerial bombing runs. Horrible, and much more destructive thanks to technological advances. The American Revolution was a different type of war; in some ways, it was more brutal. People were getting limbs blown off by massive balls of iron and getting stabbed with bayonets, all for a chance to live outside the rule of an oppressive mother-state, on sovereign soil. Preserving mementos from the actual war, the war that earned America her independence from Great Britain, is important because it is, though a chilling one, a reminder of our country’s roots. 

Those pieces of artillery were found throughout the Lowcountry area, on the Charleston peninsula as well as Folly and James Islands. They’re local pieces of history! It would stand to reason they’d be preserved. Charleston sustained constant traffic during the war thanks to its prominent status as a port city, indicating that not only was it an important waypoint in maneuvering American forces, but a prime target for our British foes to assail. During the Revolutionary War, Charleston was a city that experienced many people passing through, and saw a lot of America’s war for freedom. 

By Alex Ronan

The Charleston Museum has an amazing chronological wing that allows you to see artifacts from the greater Charleston area as they developed over time. I recently visited the museum, and one section of the wing caught my attention. When you think of the late 18th century, especially in the rural South, I am not sure decadence is what immediately comes to mind. I was surprised to see that much like today’s Charlestonians with their Range Rovers and boutique dogs, the people of the late 1700s had beautiful and amazing items. They clearly had money and imported many expensive and beautiful things from Europe. That is not what caught my eye though. The museum did a wonderful job displaying these luxurious items next to the tools and barbaric accouterments of the source of this wealth, slavery. Of course, I knew that slavery was a fact of life in Charleston at that time, the museum did such a great job linking the agony of those in bondage to the wealth of those who perpetrated this cruel and unjust system.

I will admit that I had passed rather quickly through the artifacts associated with slavery. I knew it existed, and I knew it was a terrible and monstrous thing. Perhaps I did not want to see the hell our ancestors created for those we now count as close family and friends. After looking at the amazing artifacts such as fine bowls, elegant metalwork, and the many pictures of the interiors of plantation homes from the period, I was forced to go back and revisit how they were all possible.

At that time the expansion of slavery and agriculture lead to booming rice cultivation in the Carolina Lowlands. With the swampy brackish water required, an excess of free labor due to slavery, and demand throughout the new and old world for rice, Carolina Gold was born. The Lowlands became one of the major producers and exporters of high-quality rice, and in doing so became fabulously wealthy. Everything they grew became pure profit due to slavery. Forced to wade through the dangerous marshes and do the backbreaking labor of rice cultivation by hand and thresher, these people held in bondage were the ones who truly paid for the fine items that I had been admiring not just a few minutes previously. The items from the exhibit on slavery were a stark contrast to that pretty bowls and fine European metalwork. They were the tools of rice cultivation and human bondage. Coupled with explanations about how terrible and dangerous the work of growing rice was, those pretty objects suddenly did not seem so lovely.

Charleston was a city that was supported by the work of slaves, and many became prosperous off this labor. I felt it was important to recognize that we live in a city that was built by slaves and would not exist in its current state without them. I think the Charleston Museum also wanted us to recognize that with all the beautiful artifacts that they displayed came a terrible price that was paid in blood, sweat, and tears of those in forced servitude.

By Brandon Eichelberg

For my museum visit, I chose to go to the Old Exchange. I walked around the self-guided portion of the building for a while and saw some very interesting things. The Great Hall on the second floor had some very insightful displays, and my favorite part of the floor would have to be the views out of the windows. At each window, there was an information sheet that discussed the significance of what I was seeing out of the window, such as Broad Street. I found this to be really interesting because it was a museum exhibit in real-time outside of the museum.

Other than this, there were two displays that I found very interesting in a room on the first floor. The first one was a showcase of the weapons used in the American Revolution. I found the weapons display to be intriguing because I was able to see how simple some of the weapons were from that time. My particular favorite was the Hessian bayonet. This is because it shows how weaponry was still so simple at that time. The bayonet, which was essentially a spear attachment for a musket, exhibits how hand-to-hand combat was still more reliable than gun combat. It also shines light on how new some aspects of warfare really are, considering warfare now is largely based on some sort of distancing. This is seen in the use of assault and sniper rifles, as well as fighter jets and missile launchers. This extreme difference in weaponry really shows how much war has shifted from close-combat strategies to distanced ones, and I think that the combination of spear (bayonet) and rifle really shows how the American Revolution was at a crossroads between these two periods of military history.

Furthermore, on top of this case, there was also a fun fact about Benjamin Franklin and his use of rattlesnake symbolism, which I found to be very relevant to our course discussion on his “Join or Die” artwork (even though it was not specifically a rattlesnake in his art). It stated that Franklin liked using the rattlesnake to describe the colonies because it never attacked unless provoked and it always made it clear when it was agitated.

The second display in that room that I found incredible was a Free Badge (even though it was a reproduction). The Free Badges were used in Charleston from 1783 to 1789 to designate the freedom of a free African American. Furthermore, the badge had specific serial numbers. Now the really interesting part, at least for me, was the engravement of a freedman’s cap in the center of the badge. As we have discussed in class, such symbolism was used in patriotic artwork depicting the goddess Columbia. This freedman’s cap symbolism comes from the Roman use of such caps on freedmen (people who were once slaves but gained their freedom), which is interesting to note because it seems fitting that the Columbia artwork that we saw in class would use such symbolism, considering many colonists would compare their subservience under Britain to enslavement.

By: Callie Andrew

Hey everyone! For my visit to a historic site in Charleston, I chose to visit the Cathedral Church of Saint Luke and Saint Paul located at 126 Coming Street. I spent years of my college experience walking by this Cathedral, continuously wondering about the history it holds. This assignment provided a perfect opportunity to explore more of the site that had consumed my curiosity for so long.

Upon first glance, the Cathedral blends into many of the historic buildings that line the streets of downtown Charleston. Behind its grand pillared entrance, however, is a history that once defined this region. Currently a part of the Anglican Diocese of South Carolina, this Cathedral was built in 1810 and completed construction in 1815. This was a pivotal era in the history of Charleston, as it was primarily used to aid the Confederate army during the Civil War. This time in history significantly influenced not only the development of Charleston, but also eighteenth and nineteenth century  literature. The Cathedral Church of Saint Luke and Saint Paul identifies as “catholic Christians,” a religion that shaped the work of authors such as Franklin and Jefferson.

When I first began walking up the Cathedral stairs, a feature that immediately stood out to me was the large Corinthian pillars. While they are currently under construction, these pillars distinguish The Cathedral Church of Saint Luke and Saint Paul as a pivotal point in the development of Charleston society. 

The Gothic-Revival style of architecture is showcased within these four pillars, as they have been preserved to remain the exact same for over two hundred years. While visiting this historic site, I learned that architecture trends of this era typically meant  the outside of buildings remained bare, while the inside was decorated with great attention to detail. Even though the outside of the Cathedral was less adorned than the inside, I still found the architecture to be an impressive monument representing one of the most influential religions of Charleston’s history. 

During my visit to this Cathedral, I learned that Charleston is home to over 400 churches. This staggering statistic reminded me of how fortunate I am to live in an area with such deeply rooted history. Ultimately, visiting the Cathedral Church of Saint Luke and Saint Paul has granted me insight into the influence of Christianity during this time period.

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

By Abigail Young

This past week, I revisited the Gibbes Museum of Art. I have been to this museum several times before, but I like to go back every so often to check out new exhibitions that have been installed (their latest is a collection of works by William H. Johnson, whose work focused on African American history and activism in the 1940s–definitely worth checking out!)

While I was there, searching for an interesting piece of art from Early America, I stumbled upon this diptych that depicts the Battle of Sullivan’s Island in 1776 by Henry Gray. According to the signage about this work, Lieutenant Henry Gray “was an eyewitness to the battle… Gray soon after recorded his experience in these two paintings…”

 What I particularly enjoyed about this works was how easily the artist tells a story with just these two frames. In the first, you see the British ships facing off against the fort at the tip of the island. In the second, you see the same British ships retreating, the one in the foreground enveloped in thick, gray smoke.

Admittedly, I did not know much about this battle before researching this piece. From what I have gathered about this particular event, it was the British’s intention to take over Sullivan’s Island, and then use the Island as their home base as they went on to the neighboring towns of Charleston, Mount Pleasant, and beyond. However, the American forces were led by Colonel Moultrie (who the fort was later named after) in a battle that spanned an entire day, and into the night. At some point during the night, the British forces gave up and retreated to a safe distance–this fact shows that there must have been some artistic license taken by Lt. Henry Gray, though I think that the painting warrants the inclusion.

This piece details an important event in the very long history of the low country, which is why it has rightfully been preserved and put on display at the local art museum. Though depictions of battle or historic events are not revolutionary for the kinds of art being produced during this time, I think that this piece is special for a few different reasons. Most of the other works in this wing of the museum (placed there for their proximity in date of production), are the typical portraits of rich, white, notable people around town that have been seen over and over again. This piece stands apart from the others, in that it is a scene depicting our local history, and also a diptych–in essence, showing the height of the battle, and the triumphant result. I also enjoy that the materials used to make the piece are much simpler; Henry Gray sketched out the scene with simple watercolors on paper, more so trying to capture a historic event than create the next great work of art. I think it makes the piece seem more honest and representative of the time than the other lofty portraits of various important people ever could.

By: Chase Baker

The Provost Dungeon underneath the Old Exchange building is arguably one of the most unique historic sites of our city which in Charleston is saying a fair bit. The dungeon seems to be directly out of a European castle. Its walls and floors are constituted by 18th century brick formed into double-barrel-vaults which support the dungeon. In the south, buildings that hold a large significance to the Revolutionary War are rare and the ones that do exist are generally not well preserved. Because of this, the Provost Dungeon is unique.
During its history, the dungeon saw a fair bit of notable prisoners chained in its confines. Many of them are Revolutionary figures. For example, Son of Liberty Christopher Gadsden was imprisoned in the dungeon. You see his influence today with the flag he designed during the revolution known as the Gadsden flag. The flag, commonly seen on the back of large trucks, is best described as being the yellow flag with a snake on the front above the words don’t tread on me.
For context, the British occupied Charleston for around two years during the Revolutionary War and during that time they turned the Provost Dungeon into the area they used for American prisoners of war. Because of this, many other revolutionary figures had to unfortunately call the dungeon their home. The conditions for prisoners were poor. They were for the most part chained to the walls or chained together. Their daily rations were awful. Because of these poor conditions, many of the prisoners died from either malnutrition or disease.
Likely one of the most interesting historical stories from the Provost Dungeon has to do with the hiding of at least 10,000 pounds of rebel black powder in its walls. Directly before the British successfully sized Charleston, the revolutionaries had a problem other than just losing the city. Revolutionaries had been storing up black powder for their cause but when the British were about to seize the city, many of the revolutionaries decided to evacuate to avoid capture by the British. The problem they ran into was that they couldn’t take all the black powder with them during their hasty evacuation. Now, they couldn’t just leave the black powder out and about for the British to get their hands on. It would help them out immensely. At the same time, the revolutionaries didn’t want to simply discard this valuable resource in the harbor of Charleston. So, the most senior officer at the time, a man by the name of Col. William Moultrie came up with a plan. They were going to hide this black powder in the dungeon. The revolutionaries went down to the dungeon and hid all the black powder in its walls. It was completely unnoticeable. Note, that many today believe that it was 10,000 pounds of black powder, however the writings of Col. Moultrie say that it was actually 15,000 pounds but only 10,000 pounds was usable.
The interesting thing is that when the British occupied Charleston, they looked everywhere for the black powder but never found it. The amusing thing is that during the British occupation of Charleston, British officers utilized the building on top of the dungeon, the Old Exchange as their headquarters. So, they were sitting on top of it the entire time but never new.

by Michael Stein:

*The picture on the right I don’t mention at all, but it was about a Black man who was killed in the Boston Massacre. This was pretty much swept under the rug.

Hi everyone! I went to the Gibbes Museum, and the item that I chose was a bust of George Washington. It sounds like it’s not really anything interesting at all, just another picture of one of the Founding Fathers. But there was a reason why I picked it out of many other incredible items (I told them I was there for a project and they had a lady come give me the whole spiel [and the third floor was awesome Black art and Great Depression art]) — Washington was depicted in Roman outfit, with short curled hair like a soldier’s. 

First off, I’m noting that this was an interesting time period where pretty much all the best sculptors were studying in Italy, not America. So, Ceracchi, the artist, had to come to America to make this piece. Its importance to Charleston comes from archaeologist John Middleton, who bought the bust around 1820. He’s apparently important (he has a wikipedia page, although it’s very short). His importance really comes from his family: his father was Continental Congressman Arthur Middleton (who signed the Declaration of Independence), and his older brother was the Governor of SC at one point.

But back to the bust itself: it’s a little weird to see Mr. Washington depicted in this way. I feel like I always see him in his Revolutionary War garb, perched majestically, or dressed in all black with his white hair. So, to see him in a style that, to me, since I’m uneducated in sculptures, reminded me of Caesar, was a bit weird. It reminded me of a very militaristic and strong person, especially someone who loves White western values. I don’t think that’s a bad thing at all, but I don’t necessary think of Washington as someone like Caesar, even though I guess in many ways they are. That’s really how this visit changed my thoughts. This connection showed me that maybe there’s more to think about when comparing the U.S. to Rome. Also, the poetry that we have been reading was really where this connection started for me. Phillis Wheatley’s “His Excellency General Washington” and Annis Boudinot Stockton’s “Addressed to General Washington” really were where this idea sort of began.

I would say that it’s quite clear why it’s been preserved and displayed — we can never get enough of GW. Concerning Charleston in the late eighteenth century, we can really tell that the wealthy were often still romanticizing the Revolution. I don’t think this is a bad thing at all, and I assume that honestly, most people in the United States were doing this. I don’t think it shows much that’s unique about Charleston — unless you look at this in a bad light. Instead of seeing Washington as we normally see him, we could see him as a power hungry general who pissed enough people off that he was assassinated. I think this is a totally interesting way to look at this piece. There really wasn’t much explanation as to why it was done in this manner, Washington in Roman outfit, but I think that this bad light was not intended.

But that’s just my thoughts. Let me know what you think. I had a great time at the Gibbes, and will definitely go back.

Nestled between Eli’s Table and a massive parking deck on Meeting St. lies the Gibbes Museum of Art, downtown Charleston’s premier art museum and a favorite haunt for the history buff. Behind the facade of imposing columns lies nine galleries, two classrooms, two studios, and a spacious reception hall. And of course a museum gift shop should one want to take home a book of Alice Ravenel Huger Smith paintings or a mug emblazoned with “The Gibbes Museum of Art”. Being a lover of art museums myself but never getting the chance to visit this one, I headed to the top floor to take a look at the traveling exhibitions, in this case William H. Johnson’s Fighters for Freedom and a collection of Federal Art Project prints, before making my way to the second level, where the gallery of 18th century art was housed.

Mr. Peter Manigault (1731-1773) and his Friends, 1854

I became engaged in a deep conversation with the docent there that day, who took me around the room and pointed out specific paintings and furniture that might be interesting to discuss for an assignment such as this. She showed me a 1711 portrait of Henriette Charlotte Chastaigner, considered the first professional female artist in the country, and a sketch, first done by George Boone Roupell then copied later by Louis Manigault, of Mr. Peter Manigault and his Friends engaged in a lively discussion with copious amounts of wine. This image is particularly striking because it was not meant for public consumption and therefore details a more intimate scene, one that startlingly features a young enslaved boy standing at the edge of the room, signaling Southern decadence’s dependence on slavery.

Off to the side of the Gibbes’ 18th century

Fraser’s supplies

gallery lies another small room, this one containing the work of Charles Fraser (1782-1860) and other miniaturists like him from the late 18th, early 19th centuries. In a time before photographs and phones, where now seeing a loved one’s face can be as simple as looking down at a screen, miniaturists created tiny portraits for people to carry around when far from one another. It was a privilege mainly dedicated to the extremely wealthy, and Fraser’s and other’s prolific work in Charleston speaks to how popular such pieces must have been South of Broad. There was also a small case containing his materials, his small pallet of ivory perfectly preserved and small jars that once held paint of just primary colors sitting alongside his notebook, where he would create small, extremely detailed portraits of his subjects then transfer them onto small ivory ovals, filling in the lines with paint mixed on his pallet.

A selection of miniaturist’s work

I was intrigued by this idea because not only were the paintings incredibly detailed (some looked real enough to be photographs) but they also spoke to the enduring nature of human love, and how we always find ways to keep those special to us close to our heart. It speaks to the intense trappings afforded to the wealthy, and showcased the way Charleston elites saw one another and themselves. When asked about what he created as a miniaturist, Fraser responded “Striking resemblances, that will never fail to perpetuate the tenderness of friendship, to divert the cares of absence, and to aid affection in dwelling on those features and that image which death has forever wrested from us.” That quote is inscribed in large letters on the wall of the gallery.