Paul Simon was wrong. Nashville is not the cradle of the civil war. This is the place. Charleston, SC.
We are staying at the Vendue Hotel, which is a stone’s throw from the water. They give you free wine and cheese at 4:00 PM. We were talking to the lady who was serving the wine and she told us something or other had been done to the hotel before the war. When I hear that phrase I always think WW II, but when I asked her “which war”, she jokingly said it was before “the war of Northern Agression”. It’s still a reality down here I guess, though the city itself seems fine, and all the people we’ve met have been very friendly. My guess is that it’s the folks in the hinterland that send people like Jim DeMint to the United States Senate.
Anyway, the place reeks history. These pictures are of St. Philip’s Episcopal Church, where several Pinckney’s are buried.
They’re in here somewhere, but I didn’t have the time to find them.
There’s another cemetery across the street. My brother in law read that John Calhoun was buried there, but his body was removed to stop the Yankees from taking it as Sherman marched North. Apparently the work was done too well, since no one is quite sure where his earthly remains were taken.
This is the Custom House, which puts New London’s to shame, but I still give Salem’s the palm.
A few other shots. It is regrettable but true that it is hard to take good photos in a city because of the ubiquitous automobile and the signs required by its existence, both of which mar the scenery to an unacceptable extent. Still, one must do what one must do.
This is a section of the Market, which consists of at least four such buildings, each of which is a city block long. It is a mystery to me why more cities don’t have such markets.
This is the Exchange, in which, I believe the sign said, South Carolina ratified the Constitution, after which it spent four score and 5 years threatening to back out.
Tomorrow we go to Fort Sumter, the very nursery of the Civil War.
I must say a word about the restaurant where we ate tonight, the Cafe Cru. The food is billed as quality American comfort food, which indeed it was. I had Poblano Fried Chicken with Mozzarella, which was yummy indeed. But, not only was the food comfort food, so was the music, a non stop diet of Beatles. You can’t beat that.
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