Center for Civil War Photography Image of War attendees Bob Carlson and Amber Lass hold a copy of a photograph taken at Castle Pinckney during the Civil War. (Photo: Cliff Roberts) |
At Castle Pinckney in Charleston Harbor, pelicans apparently rule the roost. |
On an unseasonably hot October afternoon in Charleston, S.C., a few intrepid civil warriors were fully prepared for their boat "assault" on a small fortress in Charleston Harbor.
Sunscreen. Check.
Life jackets. Check.
To blunt the odor of pelican poo, we had a topical analgesic handy. Thankfully, it wasn't needed. |
Our major worry during the one-mile cruise from Carolina Yacht Club onshore to Castle Pinckney -- the long abandoned Civil War fortress on obscure Shutes Folly -- was whether we could stand the stench of myriad droppings of pelicans, the tiny island's main inhabitants. As a certain politician might say, the place is a real "s---hole." Literally. So we figured a coating of chest rub (a.k.a. "topical analgesic") under our snouts might blunt the work of the pesky Pinckney pelicans.
We needn't have worried. The odor wasn't nearly as bad as we were led to believe. Stepping past a rat carcass or two was a far greater challenge.
Our visit, the final event of the excellent Center for Civil War Photography Image of War seminar, was optional. Only 10 bold souls decided to go. To access the fortress, which is not open to the public, special permission was secured in advance from the local Sons of Confederate Veterans post, owners of the historic property.
Scores of photographs were taken at the fort during the Civil War, so our main aim was to identify present-day sites of those images. Of course, for us history nerds, an opportunity to explore the seldom-seen Civil War site was too tantalizing to pass up.
THEN: South Carolina Historical Society | NOW: John Banks, Oct. 15, 2017. (Hover on image for present-day view.)
Constructed from 1809-1810 to replace an earlier log-and-earthen fort, the brick-and-mortar Castle Pinckney, named after South Carolina politician Charles Pinckney, guarded Charleston Harbor during the War of 1812. Given its feudal appearance, it was called a "castle." During the 2 1/2 -year conflict, the fort saw no action. In the years leading up to the Civil War, Castle Pinckney was part of the defenses of Charleston and the army maintained a small presence there.
Then came the winter of 1860. War fever was intense. On Dec. 20, 1860, South Carolina became the first state to secede from the Union. A week later, the small U.S. Army garrison at a rebuilt Castle Pinckney surrendered to a 150-man strong South Carolina militia, eventually withdrawing to Fort Sumter, nearly three miles farther out into the harbor. A Northern newspaper soon speculated how the fort might be returned to the Union's fold.
An 1865 view of the interior of the fort, long before it was filled with sand and debris. (Library of Congress.) |
On April 12, 1861, Castle Pinckney provided a bird's-eye view of the Rebels' shelling of Fort Sumter, which ignited the Civil War. Three months later, the fortress served as a prison for more than 120 Union soldiers who had been captured at First Bull Run. The POWs proved compelling subject matter for Southern photographers.
Of course, for Yankee prisoners, Castle Pinckney was less appealing. "Our greatest need is clothing," a Union POW wrote to his brother in November 1861. "The men, particularly, require everything from shoes to overcoats." At least one Southern soldier found Charleston and the fort on the harbor island especially bleak, too.
"I arrived here last night and am sorry I ever saw such a place," the young Rebel wrote in a letter to a friend in the spring of 1861. "If I could get out of it, I would do so with the utmost pleasure. We arrived here Sunday morning at 9 o'clock, and were immediately taken to Castle Pinckney, where we were set to work (on Sunday morning, too) transporting two heavy 48-pounders to the wharf.
"We are treated worse than negroes here. We don't get enough to eat, and what we do get is the coursest and most common description. If you hear of anyone getting the Southern Rights Fever as strongly as I had it, just show them this, and if it does not cure him, nothing will."
Federal prisoners captured at Bull Run at Castle Pinckney in 1861. (Library of Congress) |
While Confederates relax (top of image), Union prisoners gather at Castle Pinckney (below) in August 1861. (Library of Congress) |
Fittingly perhaps, Castle Pinckney drifted into obscurity after the Civil War. Sometime late in the 19th century, its interior was filled with tons of sand, probably from a nearby sandbar. A large warehouse and caretaker's dwelling were constructed, and a lighthouse to guide ships in the harbor was added on the island. A plan to convert the fort into a rest home for veterans went nowhere.
By 1899, Castle Pinckney was "practically a wreck," according to newspaper report, "and useless for further purposes of defense."
Castle Pinckney's pelicans were mostly unmoved by our presence. |
On June 6, 1902, Castle Pinckney, used for storage, narrowly escaped destruction late one night thanks to the "violent barking of watch dogs," who roused the keeper from his slumber. Wooden casks had somehow been set ablaze, threatening to ignite a nearby oil house that held 15,000 gallons of kerosene. The keeper and his family rolled the casks into the harbor, saving themselves and 12 sleeping inhabitants. "The flames were sweeping with such headway when discovered that the oil house would have exploded within ten minutes," a local newspaper reported, "and the entire island property would have been destroyed."
In the 1930s, Castle Pinckney was given national monument status, but the federal government eventually soured on the fort, probably because it had not played an active role in the Civil War. Consequently, it lost that august designation in 1956. (Curiously, in 1970, it was added to the National Register of Historic Places.)
In 1957, Castle Pinckney was taken off the hands of the feds for $12,000 by the Charleston Ports Authority, which used it as a dump for soil dredged from the harbor. Various plans to restore the fort hit dead ends, and it was sold by the state to the Fort Sumter Camp No. 1269, Sons of Confederate Veterans in 2011, reportedly for $10 Confederate.
Soon after our group landed on Shutes Folly, we discovered near the old fort entrance the location of a post-war image of a young African-American. But given vast changes since 1861, we failed to nail down other present-day images of Civil War photographs. Amid palm trees and island scrub in the fort's interior, we discovered an old gun port, ruins of a chimney and scattered bricks dating to the Civil War. Thankfully, scores of pelicans seemed largely unmoved by our presence.
At least one of our group speculated what might lie beneath tons of sand and debris dumped at Castle Pinckney long ago. Massive cannon? Civil War ordnance? The remains of the prison for Union POWs?
A pelican graveyard?
Perhaps someday Charleston's poor stepchild will give up those secrets.
Imposing outside wall of the fort, which saw no action during the Civil War. |
A gun port at the brick-and-mortar fort. |
Ruins of a post-Civil War chimney. |
Confederate national flag flies from ruins. The fort is owned by a local Sons of Confederate Veterans post. |
Nine Center for Civil War Photography Image of War attendees at Castle Pinckney in October. Your humble blogger is in the back row wearing, of course, an Alabama cap. Roll Tide! |
Have something to add (or correct) in this post? E-mail me here.
SOURCES
-- Baltimore Sun, Sept. 28, 1899.
-- Charleston (S.C.) Evening Times, June 7, 1902.
-- National Republican, Washington, D.C., March 19, 1861.
-- New York Times, Jan. 4, 1861.
-- The National Tribune, Washington, D.C., Jan. 17, 1907.
Here's an 82-page archaeological report from 1978 that includes some great photos.
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