Yesterday, the Archives committee sponsored an expedition through Copahee Sound to understand what it might have been like to visit the Huyler Family in the early-twentieth century.  We met at the dock, and in the face of prevailing 20 knot winds, decided to leave the kayaks behind.  Jill started us off by reading from Anne King Gregorie’s description of coming to the island, as found in Jim’s book, Dewees: The Island and it’s People.

The traveler who follows the modern pavement of the ancient “path” from Charleston to Georgetown, may notice about 9 miles from the Cooper River Bridge a wide dirt road bearing to the east and marked, “Dewees Island – Coulter Huyler.”  If, in an adventurous mood he follows this road, he will find that it ends after a mile or so in a little hamlet in the tidewater called Porcher’s Bluff.  Low in the haze of the horizon beyond the salt marshes he will see a blue line of sea islands, with Dewees and Capers, in the stillness of magic solitude, straight before him.  Leading out to the channel a thousand feet from shore is a footbridge flanked by a flag staff.

Having come thus far, our traveler will now demand that we take him further.  So we open the box at the base of the flag staff, run up a signal to the breeze, and in a few minutes we see a white motorboat coming.  We meet it at the end of the pier, and stepping on a board we find shelter from the fresh sea wind, draw warm rugs over our knees, and speed through the dancing water to the enchanted islands ahead.  While sea birds dip and cry about us, and schools of fish flee from their pursuers, we relax in the freedom of the open, and before we know it we are debarking upon the white sands of Dewees.

After discussing our route with each of the three afternoon captains, we embarked on this reverse journey.  To be sure, the skimmers, oystercatchers, and pelicans “dipped about us,” and we “relaxed in the freedom of the open”.  We meandered through the marshy creeks of Copahee sound until we could see the point from which the flag was raised nearly 90 years ago, and then we tossed an anchor into the mud, rafted up and toasted the intrepid folk who made that journey frequently.  We watched the tide encroach on the oyster flats, enjoying each other’s company in a different setting, imbibing the champagne and other picnic delicacies.  Eventually we pulled anchor and headed for Dewees and home, watching the colors change as the sun sank lower over the marsh.

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John Leland, in his book, Lives Between the Tides, (a book everyone should have a copy of– I am on my fifth copy, having lent/given all the previous ones away), writes of the marsh from Porcher’s Bluff to Dewees:

I sit at the end of the dock, listening to water slapping against the posts.  The tide is full, and Porcher’s Creek winds bluely through it’s host, the marsh grass, spring’s green already filling winter’s brown stems.  Across the creek, marooned in a halo of marsh, lies a dream isle, and indian shell ring, palmettos rising evergreen and graceful along its beach, live oak dipping its egret-clad branches into the water.  Beyond that, Copahee Sound, a blue sheet of water stretches out its four-mile-long arms to embrace Dewee’s and Capers, barrier islands whose serried tree are a tropic silhouette of yet more Palmettos.

Our Revolutionary War celebration brought us a number of fascinating re-enactors.  We had a chance to catch up with them and find out what makes them drawn to re-enacting and why they choose to make history come to life.

We spoke at length with Sargeant Major Bert Puckett, who has been a re-enactor for years and just retired from the Army.  He is currently searching for his next job, which he hopes will give him a chance to continue this hobby that is an academic pursuit.  Both Bert and Bob have been stationed at Fort Bragg, both have spent more than 20 years on active duty and both found interesting parallels between the Revolutionary War and modern conflicts in Bosnia, Iraq, and Afganistan.  In preparation for a re-enactment, they review some of the curt orders of Francis Marion as well as the protocol of the re-enactment division.

The manual provides the following instructions:

The recruit having received his necessaries, should in the first place learn to dress himself with a soldier-like air; to place his effects properly in his knapsack, so as to carry them with ease and convenience. He is to learn how to salute officers when he meets them, to clean his arms, wash his linens and cook his provisions. He must accustom himself to be able to dress in the night; and for that purpose, always have his effects in his knapsack and be placed where he can put his hands on it in a moment, that in case of alarm he may repair with the greatest alertness to the parade.

When learning to march, he must take the greatest pains to acquire a firm step and proper balance, practicing during his leisure time. He must accustom himself to the greatest steadiness under arms, to pay attention to the commands of his officers, and exercise himself continually with his firelock.

A company is to be formed in two ranks, at distance, with the tallest men in the rear, and both ranks sized, with the shortest men of each in the center. A company thus drawn up is to be divided into two sections or platoons; the captain to take post on the right of the first platoon, covered by a sergeant; the lieutenant on the right of the second platoon, also covered by a sergeant; the ensign four paces behind the center of the company; the first sergeant two paces behind the first platoon, and the eldest corporal two paces behind the second platoon; the other corporals are to be on the flanks of the front rank.

Bert and Bob have both been to Dewees Island before as guests, and they delighted in our uncrowded beach.  They were both always interested in history.  They joke that their families may like the dress-up part the best, but they are drawn to what they call “experimental archaeology.”  They stressed that it was not just the history but the replication of materials and processes… making their own shoes, for instance.  They dissolved steel wool in vinegar for several days to make a solvent that actually changes the composition of leather, making a blackener that won’t wash off.  They described using historical methods exclusively for a three day encampment.  “I’m a professional soldier and I was just smoked, ” Bert recalls, describing his exhaustion after that exercise.

We thank them for making history come to life on our little island, and bringing to the forefront the role Dewees played in the Revolutionary chapter of the State’s history.

video of the encampment

The earth will know you have been here.  That was the theme of a lecture last week hosted by the Charleston Natural History Society (aka our friends at Audubon who help with our bird counts.) The speaker was Patrick McMillan, an engaging naturalist from Clemson who has a regular SCETV program called Expeditions.

Dr. McMillan provided lots of compelling data about protecting earth’s fragile resources, which was very interesting, but the reason I went was that the lecture was about shell middens.  Shell middens (or mounds) are evidence of early complex hunter gatherer societies located worldwide, but I was particularly interested in those on the Southeast Coast.  I am still doing more research to learn about the people who constructed the middens.  One of the most accessible shell midden sites is located practically in our own backyard, at the edge of the Francis Marion National Forest, known as the Sewee shell midden.

Dr. McMillan explained that the choices of these ancient societies to pile up shells had created micro-ecosystems with much more calcified soils than the surrounding marshes, creating a favorable climate for some surprising botany.  Sugar Maples, for example, grew on the edges of some shell middens– a deciduous tree which favors upland soils.  And other woodland, upland species grow there as well, including a kind of trillium.  Scientists have recently discovered many more archaeologically significant sites by flying over the coast in the fall, locating previously unknown shell rings by spotting sugar maples in their glorious fall foliage.

The lecture was at the Library downtown, and at the end I had a whole bunch of questions.  Sadly, however, the library closes as 8:00 and then they lock the parking lot, and so I needed to scramble to keep my car from spending the night under the library.  I will send Dr. McMillan a letter (and do some research) to learn more about the following things:

What else do we know about shell middens?  Were the seeds from sugar maples and other calcium loving species carried there by the wind or by people for deliberate propagation?  One of the trees mentioned is the toothache tree– is that not a native tree for our island?  Were our toothache trees brought here from elsewhere thousands of years ago?  What did they learn from the newly discovered archaeological sites?  What do we have in our archives and nature center from that time period?  I’ll keep you posted.