Call on thy children of the hill,
Wake swamp and river,
 coast and rill,
Rouse all thy strength and all thy skill,
Carolina! Carolina!
 
This stirring summons forms the opening stanza of Henry Timrod’s epic poem, Carolina.  Predestined to a literary life, Henry was born in 1828 to William Timrod, a published poet, and bookbindery proprietor. His father’s shop was a gathering place for aspiring Charleston writers: luminaries such as William Gilmore Simms, James Louis Petigru, and Rev. Samuel Gilman.

Although not wealthy, the Timrods managed to send Henry to a elite private school in Charleston, and with financial assistance from a wealthy friend, Timrod attended the University of Georgia in 1845.  He withdrew, unsatisfied with the school, after less than two years.  In 1849, The Southern Literary Messenger launched his professional career by publishing his works.  Supplementing his income, Timrod tutored prominent planters’ children, until, in 1860, a small volume of Timrod’s poems was published to critical, if not financial, acclaim.

Preceding the Civil War, Timrod was employed at Orange Grove Plantation near Florence.  After the first shots were fired on Fort Sumter, Timrod turned his pen to extolling the virtues of the Southern cause.  Enlisting for military service, his poor health prevented his service on Confederate front lines.  Discontent at home, Timrod worked as a war correspondent in the Western theater.  Life in the field further deteriorated his health, forcing him to return home, where he continued writing prolifically.  His patriotically inspired verse earning him the sobriquet “The Poet Laureate of the Confederacy.”
 
In 1864, Timrod secured an associate editor position at the Columbia newspaper, South Carolinian, but an 1865 fire destroyed much of the city, claiming Timrod’s job at the newspaper.  Desperate for work, he sent submissions to Northern papers, without success.  Absent the assistance of friends, Timrod would have been destitute.  His final years a financial and physical struggle, tuberculosis claimed the gifted poet’s life in 1867.  He was laid to rest at Trinity Church graveyard in Columbia.    

In 1901, the Timrod Memorial Association of South Carolina raised funds by selling Timrod’s poems, and erected a bronze bust in Washington Square Park, behind City Hall.  The image below  taken after its unveiling, pictures the  bust, alongside the Washington Light Infantry Monument and the Fireproof Building.

Interestingly enough Timrod would garner national attention once again in 2006.    An article in the New York Times brought to light similarities between Bob Dylan's lyrics on his Modern Times Album and the poetry of Timrod  (This article on the Poetry Foundation's website covers this debate pretty thoroughly).

  In 1911, at the urging of the Daughters of the American Revolution, Timrod’s poem, Carolina was set to music by Miss Anne Custis Burgess, and honored as the state song of South Carolina.  The closing lines of the song are a fitting tribute to the valor of the state and to the life of Timrod himself.
 
Girt with such wills to do and bear,
Assured in right,
 and mailed in prayer,
Thou wilt not bow thee to despair,
Carolina! Carolina!
__________________

Top Image- Making of America-Cornell
Bottom Image- Library of Congress

Above- 1872 Bird's Eye View of Charleston.  Bath house is on extreme left- sticking out of the peninsula  Scans at end of post are close-ups of bath house.  Image from Library of Congress.

Salt water bathing was all the rage in Charleston in the 19th century.   The briny wash was presumed to have medicinal properties – it was thought that by simply immersing oneself in the salt water of the ocean would help safeguard against illness, or assist the body in staving off an existing aliment.  This was not a new fad, but rather the revival of a much older tradition.  The Greeks and Romans visited spas and springs seeking the same benefits, as did many of the sick of the medieval period.  In the 17th century many doctors began advertising through pamphlets the benefits of exposure to salt water.

Two centuries later this notion was back in vogue.  Charlestonians, as health-consciousness as any of their neighbors, were eager to reap the health benefits of their coast.   Over the course of the 1800’s several of these baths sprung up around the peninsula.   One was built on the grounds of the public park, also known as White Point Gardens or the Battery.  The one featured in this photograph is circa 1880, and was anchored near the Battery in the Ashley River.  This floating wooden structure was reached by crossing a long pier.   

Several of the baths provided private tubs, as well as swimming pools.   In proper Victorian form, men and women were strictly segregated, although their bathing gowns were quite concealing (at least by modern standards).  Many of the baths also offered saloons where drinks were served with delicacies such as ice cream and pastries.  The experience was not meant to be a quick jump in the water, but rather a relaxing affair consuming most of the day - proof that our antebellum ancestors, rather than Generation X,  invented modern spa culture.  

For all of their supposed benefits, the bath houses near the Battery were destined not to survive.   Being situated on the water’s edge meant they were likely to be destroyed by the frequent hurricanes, a bad storm, or even cyclones that sometimes swept Charleston.  Rebuilding them was a costly affair, sometimes out of reach of the proprietors.   Another factor contributing to their disappearance was concern that the baths may be spreading more disease than it was curing.  No matter how much the city regulated their operation, outbreaks of infectious diseases such as Cholera were traced back to bath houses.   Some complained of a more ascetic reason why the bath houses should be razed, they were “unsightly” and marred the view of the water.    

 By the late 1800’s the bath houses near the Battery were gone.  Yet, the salt water revival continues without them.   Several spas and natural medicine practitioners across the globe continue to extol the virtues of salt water baths and dips.  

Paragraph.

On Nov. 2, 1853 Otis Mills opened the doors of his grand hotel.  For almost a year workers had been toiling on the corner of Meeting and Queen Street, laboring to erect the five-story structure that would carry his name. No expense had been spared.  Outside of the hotel ran a beautiful wrought-iron balcony imported from Philadelphia, the terra cotta window cornices selected from New England.   Inside were 125 rooms, besides lodging the Mills House could also offer the luxury of piping in steam heat, and a even rarer commodity in the 19th century; running water.  Architect John E. Earle had designed the building, but it was Mills who dreamed of the venture.  It is claimed that he envisioned a respectable hotel for those who could not afford to pay the high prices being charged by the leading hotels in Charleston at this time.

Mills gambled a lot on the success of his hotel.  As the chief financier he contributed almost $200,000 dollars (several million by modern standard) to this project.  With so much invested, Mills hoped that the guests would be numerous, all pleased enough with their stay to spread the word.  

He need not to have worried.  The Mills House quickly became a Charleston institution.  Travelers to the busy port city could always rely on the hotel for accommodations.  When Charleston was selected to host the Democratic National Convention in 1860, it was quickly jammed with delegates.  Diarist Mary Boykin Chestnut, whose wartime memoirs have garnered numerous awards, also stayed in the Mills House.   General Robert E. Lee, during his tenure as commander of the Department, which encompassed S.C., had quarters in the hotel.  As the carriage drivers passing it today will tell you, he was there when the great fire of 1861 burned through the city.  Luckily, the Mills House escaped destruction in 1861, and was available for the dashing Creole General P.G.T Beauregard to use as his headquarters later in the Civil War.    

After the Civil War, the hotel struggled, closing for a period, then reopening in 1870, and continuing until 1897 (This 1865 image shows the Meeting Street front of the then war ravaged hotel with several African American men out front).

 Mrs. Lawton purchased the property, changed its name to St John Hotel, and went back into business.   In 1901-1902 Charleston hosted the South Carolina and Interstate and West Indian Exposition, bringing many visitors into the city.  One of them was none other than President Theodore Roosevelt, who was entertained at the St. John.  It passed hands through the 1900’s several times, barley surviving a 1939 fire, and wound up nearly derelict in by the 1960’s.  Unable to salvage the old structure, the building was razed.   In 1970 the hotel reopened, under its first name, the Mills House.  Besides using the original name, the developers enlarged the hotel, but managed to take it back to its antebellum appearance.  In 2009, the Mills House still offers comfortable lodging in the heart of Charleston, serving as a base of operations for visitors from all over the world.     
.

Mills House, ca. 1865. Images From Library of Congress.

On Monday April 26th, 1875 George Walton Williams was finally ready to build his mansion.   A crowd of friends, family, and even a few of the local press had gathered at the large empty lot on lower Meeting Street to be part of the ceremony.  The four young Williams children were given the task of laying the first brick, and placing in the cornerstone a tin box containing copies of various newspapers, family documents, and keepsakes.  William B. Yates, who had been born near this spot, was called upon to give the blessings on these exercises. 

Williams was no doubt glad to finally begin construction of the house.  For over a decade he had been intent on moving his family from their George Street home into a new residence. Back in 1863, when the Civil War had been in its second year, Williams had purchased this land for $40,000 in Confederate script. Although no structure had stood at the site, it was considered a historic property none the less.  The Fenwick House, popularly known as the Pinckney-Lowndes House, had once graced this lot almost a century ago in the past.   Besides being home to several of Charleston’s prominent families, the Pinckney-Lowndes house had been frequented by President Washington during his 1791 visit to Charleston. By the time the Civil War erupted, this venerable old house, home to so many had fallen into disrepair, and had been pulled down. 

Williams’ new residence was to be built atop the site of the old mansion, its’ design influenced by the many European homes seen in his travels, especially those homes in Southern Italy.    Architect W.P. Russell is credited with bringing Williams plans their final form.   In 1876 the project was completed at was then the staggering cost of $200,000, making it most of the most expensive mansions in the South.  It was also one of the most luxurious.   The three story house had several dozen rooms divided over a vast 24,000 square feet.  Ceilings were fourteen feet high, many hung with elaborate chandeliers.  Ornate plaster and wood moldings covered the walls.  Linking the levels together was a soaring Grand Staircase crafted from hand carved walnut.  Atop the house was a 90 foot cupola, from out of which could be seen a breath taking view of the harbor.  Several grand piazzas allowed the inhabitants to catch the breeze sweeping off the nearby water.

Williams spared no expense in decorating the rooms, which included a Gentleman’s library, a ladies sitting room, and a ballroom boasting a glass skylight.  Exquisite works of art adorned the walls and scores of valuable antiques and specially designed furniture fleshed out the rooms.

Sarah Williams, and her husband, Patrick Calhoun, grandson of John C., inherited the mansion after the death of George and Martha Williams.  The Calhoun’s lost the property after the 1929 stock market crash, and it passed through a succession of owners, eventually winding up in the hands of Mr. Gedney Howe III who stabilized the deteriorating structure.  In 2004 the property was sold again to another S.C. native, Mr. Stahl, who has since reopened the mansion for tours. 

Images from the Library of Congress

 

Note-If you don't know who Francis Marion is go Google him-or better yet read chapter 6 "The Battle of Parker's Ferry, 1781" in my book.
 
This past week I the distinct honor of meeting one of my heroes- General Francis Marion AKA "The Swamp Fox."  He looked a little different than I thought he would. He was about 4 feet tall, had blond hair and was in the second grade (Oh- and his real name was Donny).

What am I talking about?  This young man (you know you are old when you can say "young man" and it does not come across as sounding odd) goes to an elementary school in Mount Pleasant.  As part of a class project he was given the task of presenting some information on a individual and coming to school dressed as this person.  His mother is a friend of our family and she knows I work at the South Carolina Historical Society where we are fortunate enough to keep a pistol once owned by the General.  This weapon is ca. 1790, so it is not something he would have been taking potshots at the British with.  It is a rather elegant weapon, of Italian make and is studded with silver-plated mythological creatures such as Medusa and a Griffon.  According to the family that donated to the SCHS it was a gift to Marion from Lafayette himself. 

Wanting to give the most accurate presentation he could Donny asked permission to come to the SCHS in the costume he had put together and have his picture taken holding the pistol.  The Director of the SCHS, Dr. Jensen, agreed to this request and he was able to be photographed holding this surviving relic of Marion (please note-he wore protective gloves and was monitored by staff- all told the pistol was out of its protective wrapping less than 5 minutes).   

What really stood out for me, however, was the fact that Donny was given complete freedom to choose who he wanted represent.  There were no parameters- the figure didn’t even have to be historical.  Apparently, in his class there was one George Washington and a female Abe Lincoln...and three Tony Hawk's.  Who knew that Tony Hawk was so popular (another sign of approaching decrepitness- not knowing current celebrities...and making up words)?  So my tri-corner hat is off to Donny for not going as Tony Hawk or Zac Effron (see- I still got it) or a ninja turtle (too dated, maybe) and actually choosing someone from South Carolina who played an important role in the American Revolution.

So while waving previously-said tri-corner hat I give Donny an appropriate period HUZZAH for taking such an active interest in the Palmetto State.  He should get an A.

 I think the General would agree.

 I have done maybe 25 book signings in my brief career.  Hardly makes me a pro.  Someone like Stephen King probably does 25 in a week.   Yet, I seem to have encountered a disproportionate amount of weird people and general strangeness.  Maybe it's the fact the title of my book has the word bizarre in it?  Is this all it takes to become a freak magnet?  For example at these signings I have met-

*The religious guy who told me God had sent him to talk to me- about what we never discussed.  Evidently it wasn't my book (he didn't buy one).

*The other religious guy who talked to me a lot about salvation and Jesus...later he  showed me the stack of pin-up and nude art books he was taking in the cafe to peruse.

*The lady who tried to bargain the price of my book with me.  This was in a Barnes & Noble where we sell them for what the store says we sell them for, and even after I explained that she still tried to bargain.  Her reason, her leg had gotten mangled in some sort of work accident.  She showed me the damage and said that because her worker's comp was so low I should sell her the book for eight bucks cheaper than the cover price...yet she had one of those $6 caramel coffees in her hand the whole time.

*The guy who wanted to know if Osceola was a good guy or bad guy?  This was a grown man, mind you, easily in the middle age range.  I went into a whole spiel about it was relative- the Native Americans at the time thought he was a hero, but the US military leaders thought he was a "bad guy" and wanted him captured.  However, even many of his opponents thought he was brave and admired his courage, and the plight of the Seminole tribe as a whole was viewed somewhat sympathetically by many on the opposing side.  His response?  He blinked, and asked again "So was he a bad guy or a good guy?'  I was dumbfounded.  I said "Bad to some, good to others." That seemed to answer his curiosity.   This made me think back to when I was 10, when my friends and I would play some silly game with plastic guns or swords and we were divided up into "good guys" and "bad guys."

OK, I admit it. This one is pretty funny.  I was at the College of Charleston book fair- which coincides with the Freshmen weekend.  So there are lots of families touring the campus.  Set up nearby where photo booths where you could get your group picture taken and placed on a key chain or button with some spiffy slogan on it like "Family Memories- Charleston '08" or "This is right before we found out Junior was wasting our money and not going to class."   The two other authors I was sitting with insisted we all go and get buttons made- each of us needed a button with our name and the title of our book on it.  I didn't want to, but this didn't stop them from bugging me about every 10 minutes or so.  They got their buttons done, and I was the odd man out.  About 2 hours later I caved and stood in line and got my button made.  I asked for "Mike Coker- Charleston Curiosities" please.  This is what I got.     

 Feb  1- 2009
Some Signings and Appearances Since Last Blog

To be honest I don't really remember all of the dates/ places I have been since my last post.  Not that I'm implying there was a massive swarm.  I'm hardly on a publicity circuit for the next big thing.  I just mean that I had a few, and am sure with a little effort I could find the dates, places, and times.  But really- does this mean much to anyone?  I mean, I don't really care and I'm the one hawking the book.     

So I will do the best I can with my Diet Coke addled recall.

Let's see I spoke at the holiday banquet of some Masons.  Great group of guys and gals (spouses were in attendance). My oldest pal Kevin came out with me since my wife and daughter were out at another holiday gathering.    

 For anyone who thinks the Masons are the secret rulers of the world, heirs to the Knights Templar or anything like that I advise you to attend a meeting sometime. I'm not a Mason, but like you I've seen that movie, read some literature and wondered what the fuss was all about. 

Well, let me give you the scoop- they are a group of professionals in various fields, varied in age, who happen to be civic minded, and like to support  charities.  They held a business meeting without mention of anything remotely sinister or secretive.   Nada on the Holy Grail or the Illuminati or the faked moon landing.

Anyway, the night went OK.  I was more nervous than I should have been,  and its' always a bit disconcerting with the audience faces away from you and stares at the powerpoint screen instead.  So all in all I probably gave a less than stellar performance, but they were very kind and gracious. 

After the Masons I did a couple of signings at one of the absolute coolest historic places in Charleston- The Old Powder Magazine.  Ca. 1712 this building is a real treat just to sit and hang out in.  The Director of the place, Alan, is a super-nice guy and I am honored to call him a personal friend as well.  The people you meet here are a real cross-section of tourists- some are tourists-tourists while others are tourists-family of locals- exploring the sites.  Most of the time they are happy to talk and interact with you.  Say what you will about tourists, but people on vacation tend to be happier than those punching the clock. 

I also did a Barnes and Noble signing with 4 other local authors.  They all showed and we kept each other company.  Its' infinitely less sad when there are five people hanging out and laughing, than the way it sometimes goes at those larger book stores.
 
  I've done a few where you are isolated and the customers at the store, who've never heard of you, and only there for coffee avoid you like the plague.  Afraid you'll try to rope them into a sale, they avoid eye-contact and leap past you like your table like a bleeding gazelle in front of a lion.  Hey, I'm not faulting anyone.  I've done it too, and will  do it again in the future.  As much as I'm in bookstores I would go broke if I bought a book every time an author was there signing.  There is just no good way to do this, feigned interest is even worse, so this is probably the lesser of evils.  I do try to smile and say hello now, and keep my pace a littile less panicked  (Note to any readers...if you fall as you pass an authors table we will start heaping books on you, whatever touches you must be purchased....sorry these are long-established rules).    

I did an lecture at a community center in Summerville, SC (part of my whistle stop 3-city tour....just imagine the tour shirt)!   Par for the course I got us lost and was slightly late.  My lovely wife did not fling me out of the car and run me over as I'm sure she wanted to (and rightly deserved).   I have a terrible, terrible time with directions and get lost all the time going anywhere new.  My father in-law even bought me a GPS for my car for Christmas, but I had managed to leave it at home this time....smooth.

The lecture went well even after I decided to wing it and not use my notes...a bit scattered for my tastes but the small group of folks who came out did seemed to like it.  Definitely a group I would come back to for any future projects.

I did have an SCV thing, but I canceled it because we were slated to get snow that evening.  It fizzled and the great storm of '09 came to naught.  I have it rescheduled for Oct.  Whew!  I was worried that I had left them in a lurch and would be mad.

And that is that.  I'm doing another community thing on Tue and another Mason thing later in the month. 

Oh, I got a sweet mini write-up in the latest Charleston Magazine.  I'll see if they'll let me post it.   OK, will try to keep this a little more current.  You never know when I might say something interesting.  You don't want to miss that do you?   

 
 

Dec 19
Book signing, Fri 7-9 pm
Royall Ace Hardware
883 Ben Sawyer Blvd.
Mt Pleasant, SC 29464

 I did my second of the Ace Hardware signings last night and thought I would jot down a few words about it before I get ready for work this morning.  (Hah- its' now January- great job keeping the blog up).
This was the first time I have been inside the famous Royall hardware and I was looking forward to it.   For those of you not from the area this store has been locally-operated for decades and is a favorite with locals. I have eaten at  "Johnny's," the small sandwich and hotdog place next to the store...mmmm hot dog with liquid cheddar cheese squirted on it....this is definitely on the list "not as foul as it sounds."  

Anyway, the store is nice and has that old small-town store vibe.  The owners, Mr. Royall and his wife, and the employees were incredibly nice and welcoming.  This time- one other author showed- Mrs. Bitsy Fosty, who has put together a pictorial walking tour of Charleston and a historic images '09 calendar. 

The event was better attended, but still pretty sparse.  I did get to meet a nice couple that had just relocated from Asheville. 

During the ample downtime I browsed the shelf and found one of those radio/flashlight dealies that is powered by a hand crank-  something like 100 cranks gets you 3 minutes of juice.  How useful this would be in the event of a zombie-uprising I thought (I just saw the holiday movie 'Dawn of the Dead').  That was my theme for the evening as I sipped hot cider and talked to the gracious owners and employees who had stayed late on my behalf.  I scanned the shelves trying to locate anti-zombie paraphernalia.  Found quite of bit of head-bludgeoning implements and other things to keep the hungry dead at bay.  I'm a bit iffy on the paintcans though- maybe if I can rig something up Macaulay Culkin style?  Hmm...sounds like the plot of my next book...they did do a zombie version of "Snakes On A Plane" (Flight of the Living Dead).  Maybe its' time for a zombie verison of "Home Alone?"  Could be cinematic dynamite. 

At the end of the evening I had a pretty solid grasp of what sections of the store to hit should the dead start to rise...and I even managed to sell a few books.  And isn't that what Christmas is all about- increasing your royalties and preparing for the zombies?

Dec 18
Book Signing
Sweetgrass Royall ACE Hardware
3008 Highway 17 North
Mt. Pleasant, SC 29466
 
   
This was a fun signing- despite the fact no one showed up. When I say no one, I mean no one.     I'm not trying to do that "aww shucks, people did show, but I'm just trying to be modest"  or "some people did show, but it felt like nothing in such a big empty store" in order to  illicit a pity response.  No one showed, no exaggeration, no fooling.   One of my favorite Grant Morrison Doom Patrol villains,  Number None, could have had his origin story here... (from beyond the unopened door, beneath the empty aisles springs NUMBER NONE...you get the idea...Morrison would do it better).

Why was it such a bust?   Well, as a rookie regional author I hardly have a fan base to draw upon...several other of local writers, 3 or 4 others I think, were supposed to show up too, some of these guys have been in the game long enough to draw people, but they didn't come either...with the exception of one, who stopped by for about 1/2 hour and then had to leave....Also,  this is a new holiday event at a relatively new store in Mount Pleasant, and was hosted after the usual business hours, so despite the stores best efforts at advertising the word did not travel.

Luckily I am experienced enough in my short-career that I just don't take such things personally.  For every good signing I have had, I usually have 2 or 3 lackluster ones -I think bands call this paying your dues.

But, as I said at the start of this rant, I still had fun.  I did sell two books.  One to a gentleman on the way out of the store at 6:30 (I got there before the 7 pm start time) and another to one of the employees of the store, Lou.  I had a great time talking history and genealogy with Lou!  I also spoke with Frank, the store manager, who seems like a really nice guy as well.  Besides I signed 4 more copies of my book for the store to sell, so leaving the total at 6.  I've certainly done worse.  So when we packed up early at 8:30 I was hardly depressed- I went home to see my wife Sheri who had just come back in town and baby Ellie (Sheri is 5 months pregnant). 

I have another signing tomorrow at the other ACE store across town, this one is in a a much-older spot and is a local institution, plus its' Friday night.  Perhaps it will be better attended?  Wish me luck!