Charleston, South Carolina, evokes the very best of the South. It is a stunningly beautiful city – it was once the richest city in the United States (by a factor of eight) with the fourth largest population. It shows.
The city was a gift to several British lords from King Charles II; it grew to be the largest slave port in the Americas and one of only three walled cities on the continent (the others are St. Augustine and Quebec City). And this extraordinary wealth is still on display along street after street of vaulting mansions, the largest of which is 24,000 square feet of floor space and includes three Louis Tiffany chandeliers. The rich and the uber rich – slave traders, cotton brokers, ship owners, bankers, rice or indigo magnates – used this perfect port city as their summertime retreat from their inland operations where malaria and yellow fever wiped out thousands of people.
Like the wealthy class of every era, they travelled extensively across Europe bringing back with them the architectural styles and fashions of the very rich across Greece, Italy, France and Spain. And they combined these early modern and classic styles with adaptations from the Bahamas where living quarters were designed to maximize every breeze, dissipate the summer heat and capture the winter warmth.
We rode through the city in the back of a mule driven wagon with Matthew who works for the Palmetto Carriage Company. It’s a dog-friendly, one-hour carriage ride during which Matthew riffs on the many interesting historical aspects of this city’s neighbourhoods. The city only permits 20 carriages on the streets at any one time, so every different carriage driver has to queue at the bingo machine and await their route assignment. This lottery system turns out to be fair for everyone, limits the number of carriages slowing down ordinary traffic and gives Matthew his first opportunity to amuse and inform us of the idiosyncrasies of his work as a historic guide.
So many interesting things to note. For example, many buildings feature what look like large bolts in their façade and exterior walls. These, Matthew tells us, were products of a massive 7.3 magnitude event that provoked home owners to pass massive steel rods through their houses to pull them upright and into alignment again after the earth’s rumblings. “No one knew they had earthquakes here until a whopper hit in August 1886.”
Being a port city, Charlestown has known more floods than it can count and being so close to the sea many parts of are actually several feet below sea level. The cobblestones – over which we rattle under the energy of our mules, Hit and Run – arrived to Charleston in the holds of ships as ballast for trans-Atlantic voyages. The Old Exchange and Customs building – a symbol of Britain’s oppressive imperial control over the colony – was the last building erected by the British in the Americas before the American Revolution. Over the years it has served multiple roles, including as dungeon during the era of piracy and the Civil War.
The Civil War left its mark in other ways too. Large parts of the city – particularly those within range of ship borne cannons– were reduced to burned out rubble before being re-built post-war. We stroll along the Battery, the point where Southerners in their finest clothes gathered with drinks of Planters Punch to watch the opening salvos of Confederate cannons on Fort Sumter – clearly visible from the old neighbourhood – that inaugurated the American Civil War on April 12, 1861. They thought this glorious little war could not last more than a few weeks, months at the most. No one foresaw four devastating years of war that pitted families and neighbours against each other.
Every seat on our wagon is taken. The ride is fascinating. Matthew is interesting and congenial. Even Rigby enjoyed it. She napped underneath our feet for the entire hour.
On the edge of town we stayed at the very dog-positive James Island County Park Campground with an enormous off leash area that included a dog beach and special events like Yappy Hour.
