Tour Guides: Myths, Legends or Fact?
Countless visitors stream into Charleston every year, each with their own goal in mind. They come for her beauty, culture and rich history, delving into her museums, theaters and tours with gusto, searching to glean that special memory or understanding of the Lowcountry. Chances are you’re holding this issue of Charleston Gateway to help you discover which attractions appeal to you. Should you take a carriage ride, walking tour, or bus tour? Should you take a relaxing boat cruise in Charleston Harbor, or visit Fort Sumter, where the Civil War began in 1861?
Wherever your journeys take you, one thing is almost inevitable—interaction with one of Charleston’s tour guides; and one question is always there, lurking in the deepest recesses of the mind. “Okay, I have to know—how much of what you’re telling me is true?”
Tours, by tradition, are part fact and part entertainment, and the line between the two blurs so fluidly it is often hard to differentiate one from the other. Offhand jokes, silly stories and tales that seem too good—or bad—to be true fall from the lips of Charleston’s ambassadors to her curiosity-seekers on a daily, even hourly basis. Sardonic humor mingles with charming wit; astounding detail of knowledge on her buildings can seem, well, too astounding. Is it?
Of the nearly 400 registered tour guides in Charleston last year, it is estimated less than half give tours on a regular basis, and just a fraction of these consider themselves to be career guides. Certainly it is a job that appeals to many, from college kids to professional retirees. Loose hours, beautiful weather, sweet and gentle draft animals—and the amazing 339-year saga of the Holy City through five fires, two wars on her soil and countless other disasters delivered by mother nature and humanity’s own hand.
All guides must pass a college-level history exam in order to obtain a permanent tour guide license, which is not truly permanent, but must be supplemented with continuing education classes. There is the ubiquitous flock of “temporary” guides to be found, an easy test offered that is a warm-up for the major exam; a failure on the permanent test nullifies the temporary license.
While companies often provide an outline to new guides to help them sift through daunting tomes of information, in the end a guide’s tour is largely their own responsibility to improve, resource and deliver. So how does one know if their guide is relaying true Charleston exploits or simply weaving windy tales to pass the time? One earmark of a slouch is multiple personal stories with no relation to the tour. There’s also the inability to describe specifics in regards to what you are seeing, an overused joke coming in as quick substitute. And when you do see it? Well, as the professionals know, truth is always better than fiction, but a few defunct stories still make the rounds, such as…
Trott’s Cottage: Located on Cumberland Street between Church and Meeting, this building and its supposed occupant, Chief Justice Nicholas Trott, have been the source of ribald tales of piracy and justice for years. Trott was the man who went down in history as having sentenced pirate Stede Bonnet and his crew to hang in Charleston in December, 1718. However, when it comes to this particular property, no one knows where the date on the plaque outside (1709) came from. A glance at the Information for Guides of Historic Charleston, which cites further references on the subject, “for some time there has been a dispute about the location of [sic] Trott’s house…it is to be observed, however, as discrediting the antiquity of this house, that it does not appear on a map in 1739, but on the contrary its site is left as vacant…the conclusion is that 83 Cumberland was probably an outbuilding to 85, damaged by fire in 1861. Though 17th century…the central chimney indicates it was probably a kitchen.” In a nutshell, it’s highly unlikely that Judge Trott ever lived there.
The Three Sisters: 23-27 Meeting Street are three beautiful single houses built 1760-1800—a time span of forty years, no less—and called “three sisters” because of their similar style and charm. However, the story that they are named for three real sisters, a blond, a brunette and a redhead has been recycled for eons. Apparently, the sisters were so ugly their father built them three houses with hopes of catching a husband. This fabricated story is often told with great gusto and enthusiasm, even though several nearby properties hold thrilling, real-life stories of colonial and antebellum grandeur.
There are grand stories that Lavinia Fisher, murderess of the 1820s, killed hundreds of people and was hanged herself in a white wedding dress; absolutely no proof exists of the dress—likely prison robes—and only three victims were ever proven conclusively. And while entertaining, it is not true that her head popped off during the event, either. So enjoy touring Charleston with one of her colorful guides…and good luck!