Soak In The Antiquity And Amenities At This Spectacular San Francisco Island Gem

It was a beguiling and surreal drive along the water after leaving the 5 1/2 mile long Richmond-San Rafael Bridge for Point San Pablo. Between Point Molate and Point Orient, hidden among the areas indigenous eucalyptus trees and beyond a run of secured fencing was a regiment of boarded-up, abandoned residents reminiscent of barracks. Surviving relics of the Winehaven Winery established in 1906, the grape processing facility employed over 400 people in its heyday. It was the largest winery in the United States until the Volstead Act of 1919 ushered in the Prohibition Era and shut it down. In 1941, the 400 acre site was purchased by the Navy and used as a fuel dump until being decommissioned in 1995.

Drawing closer to my planned destination, the singular road separated into two, one leading to a gated area and the other marked by a simple directional sign. The surrounding landscape had the appearance of having been surrendered to the elements. Rusty, forsaken structures and weather-beaten, neglected docks bordered the bay's craggy shoreline, now just a haunt for past shadows. From this vantage point, I could see the island and its famous landmark perched atop it--the reason that brought me to this place on the map.

The upward drive was narrow and winding. The enveloping vegetation consisted of scruffy grasses and low growing bushes with the occasional cluster of windswept trees. Upon reaching a summit, a panoramic view presented me a sneak peak of the mist shrouded bay beyond. The downward drive was more of the same, until a final circular turn brought me to sea level where I slowly pulled up to a set of old railroad tracks. Going somewhere, the rails disappeared into the bushy landscape. In front of me, a frozen-in-time sleepy harbor unfolded across the tranquil shoreline waters of San Pablo Bay. Point San Pablo Harbor is the pick-up point for the ferry to the legendary East Brother Light Station.

The East Brother Light Station quite literally sits on top of an island in the strait that separates San Francisco and San Pablo Bay. A gracious servant of the past, it is unique among its kind in history and design. It was designed in the Stick style architecture by Paul J. Pelz. The Stick style was a late 19th-century American architectural style, transitional between the Carpenter Gothic style of the mid-19th century and the Queen Anne style. The lighthouse plans called for a three-story tower attached to a two-story Victorian dwelling having three rooms per floor.

There were five other lighthouses built in this design, each located at various places on the United States coastline, but aside from East Brother, only two are still standing. Not far down the coast from San Francisco near Los Angeles, in the San Pedro Bay, is one of them, the Point Fermin Lighthouse. The other, called Hereford Light, is on the east coast in New Jersey. As to the other three, Mare Island Light, in Carquinez Strait, California, was demolished in the 1930s, Point Hueneme Light in Santa Barbara Channel, California, was replaced in 1940, and Point Adams Light in Washington State was burned down by the Lighthouse Service in 1912.

At one point in time, East Brother Light Station's future had become as foggy as the strait it protected. It survived because it is historically intrinsic and loved by many. Now 134 years old, it is a matchless California destination with a spectacular view.

The East Brother Light Station began operation in 1873. The original lens was illuminated by a wick filled with whale oil. Four years later, a new fourth-order lens was installed and the illuminant was changed to mineral oil. In 1912, the lens was replaced again along with an incandescent oil-vapor lamp. An underwater cable was laid between the island and San Pablo Point in 1934, providing electricity for the first time. The means of illumination was replaced by a fifth-order Fresnel lens powered by a 500-watt bulb. The San Francisco Bay area is one of the foggiest places on the coast, so the island lighthouse was also outfitted with a fog horn and a fog signal building. Overtime, a water tank, storage shed, and a domed cistern surrounded by a large rain catchment basin were eventually built on the island.

Shortly after the island acquired electricity, a series of unfortunate circumstances befell the island light station. The electric cable was disabled by a ship's anchor in 1939. Until repairs could be made, the light was powered by gasoline generators placed in the signal building and drums of gasoline were stored in the boathouse. In 1940, a fire incident caused by a mishandled kerosene lantern igniting a fifty gallon drum of gasoline and explosively spreading to other drums destroyed the island's wharf and boathouse. It is believed if the wind was blowing from the east that morning, the entire light station would have been vanquished.

The Coast Guard assumed responsibility for the nation's lighthouses, and in the late 1960s, announced plans to automate the station. The government wanted to tear it down and replace it with a light on a tower. Thanks to local residents who perceived value in the past and possessed the desire to preserve its heritage, an outcry arose protesting its demolition. In 1971, the station was placed on the National Register of Historic Places. The light station was saved, but neither the Coast Guard nor other public agencies had funds for maintaining or restoring the buildings. The Victorian style house sat void of life and the neglect started to take its toll as the wood rotted, the paint peeled, and the iron rusted.

East Brother Light Station, Inc., a non-profit group, was formed in 1979. Through government grants, private donations, and countless hours of volunteer labor steps were taken to restore it, not just to its former glory, but into a cherished landmark where all who want to experience the wonder of a lighthouse with a beautiful vista for a magnificent backdrop could do so.

West Brother Room
$375 (Thur - Sat), $345 Sun

Two Sisters Room
$345 (Thur - Sat), $315 Sun

The East Brother Light Station is now a popular island bed and breakfast. There are five available rooms. Four of the rooms are in the lighthouse itself and the fifth is in the original Fog signal Building. The rooms are beautifully appointed and each has its own stunning view of the Bay area and surrounding landscape or seascape, whichever you prefer. Your stay includes champagne and hors d'oeuvres upon arrival, a multi-course dinner with wine and a full gourmet breakfast the next morning. If you would like the warmth and romantic atmosphere a fireplace provides, the Two Sisters Room would be your likely choice. If you seek more privacy, the Walter's Quarters in the Fog Signal Building 100 feet from the lighthouse is closest to the water.

Marin Room
$425 (Thur - Sat), $395 Sun

San Francisco Room
$425 (Thur - Sat), $395 Sun

Walter's Quarters
$375 (Thur - Sat), $345 Sun

Point San Pablo is 30 minutes from downtown San Francisco and a ten minute boat ride from the serene Point San Pablo Harbor. Once on the island, you will be treated to spectacular views of the San Francisco skyline, Mount Tamalpais, and the Marin coastline. Your senses will be immersed and soothed by the smell of the bay, the sound of the lapping water on the rocky outcrops, and your imagination can take flight or stay put, it’s all the same either way, nostalgic and reinvigorating. Reserve a room and you will discover why San Francisco has been a top rated destination for many years among travelers.

East Brother Light Station's Bed and Breakfast excellent reviews. Reservations 510-233-2385.

A Comedic And Equally Heart-Wrenching Pilgrimage--"She Kills Monsters"

Rise up out of your dungeons all you once upon a time nerds and geeks of D and D. Rise up to unabashedly revel in your freedom and independence. Yes, rise up to celebrate your impact on "the social and intellectual structure of our world" with the Flowertown Players presentation of Qui Nguyen's comedic and equally heart-wrenching pilgrimage into the part real and part imaginary She Kills Monsters now showing at the James F. Dean Theatre. Hey, girls can be nerds as well as super heroes.

Qui Nguyen is a playwright, TV writer, pop-culture nerd, and a professed geek presently working for Marvel Studios. He is the Co-Founder of the OBIE Award-winning Vampire Cowboys of New York City. He is known for his innovative use of pop-culture, stage violence, puppetry, and multimedia. Branded as a break-the-rules writer, Nguyen produced the script for She Kills Monsters in 2011.

Set in 1995, Agnes Evans was making preparations to leave her childhood home in Ohio. Her parents and only sister were killed in an automobile accident. While packing her sister's belongings, she came across a notebook containing a Dungeons and Dragons quest written by Tilly. It was a world unfamiliar to Agnes.

While growing up, Agnes had nothing in common with her nerdy little sister--their dissimilar interests took them on different paths. As a result, she was now painfully confronted with the realization she knew nothing about Tilly, leaving a distressing void in her heart and a aching need to fill it. With hopes of filling the regrettable void, she seeks out and finds a "big where it counts" teenage Dungeon Master named Chuck to guide her through the D and D escapade. Together, they rolled the multi-sided dice to the discomfort of Agnes' insecure boyfriend.

Tilly comes to life onstage as "healer of the wounded and the protector of lights" Tillius the Paladin, an armor clad teenage heroine wielding a big sword. She is accompanied by a pointy eared she-elf named Kaliope and a bitchy warrior demon named Lilith. Needless to say, Agnes' initial introductions to Tilly's comrades in arms is contentious and bewildering as to why her sister would choose such companions, but she is driven by the need to understand. Agnes joins her sister's quest.

Along the way, the four of them hook up with a rude, cheese eating, TV watching demon lord named Orcus sporting horns and wearing brown, furry leggings. Set to rock music, they battled bugbears, a nasty winged fairy, an assortment of beasts, a gelatinous green cube, and blood-sucking demon vamps wearing cheerleader outfits by the name of Evil Tina and Evil Gabbi.

As Agnes moves between the real, her life as a teacher at the school attended by her sister, and the imaginary, the D and D quest, she discovers the companions and combatants of her sister's role playing fantasy have real life counterparts. The eye opening revelations are at times unsettling but also enlightening as she comes to know the geeky sister she avoided growing up.

I never had an interest in playing the game Dungeons and Dragons. I don't even recall being aware it was a board game that you played with dice. Adding to that, it was my first exposure to She Kills Monsters and its creator. So, when the play began, I was somewhat in a chilled fog. I didn't begin to warm up to the play until I became tuned into its unfolding poignant social message.

The plays successfully functional stage and props, dominated by misty laden greenish rock walls and accented by a changing array of colorful lights, set the necessary moods as the players fought and transitioned between the real and the imaginary. The wide variety of fanciful costumes skillfully designed and engineered by Nicole Harrison visually enhanced the fantasy and aided in the believability of the characters and their relevance within the story line. The numerous choreographed sword play and battle scenes set to the sounds of rock music were entertaining, but at times, a tad over dramatized.

Emma MacMillan was without a doubt emotionally committed to her character Tilly Evans and it showed at the end when the appreciative audience gave a standing ovation for a performance well done. Equally inspiring, Amanda Campeau as Agnes Evans was engaging, entertaining, and a pleasure to watch. Tilly's two cohorts, Kaliope and Lilith, were played by Jenny Aubrey and Michelle Jones. Lilith was by far the most intimidating of the quest characters both in dress and persona and Michelle projected that well, while Jenny projected Kaliope's softer side of female super power with grace.

As personalities go, Erik Brower was the perfect choice for the cheese consuming, testosterone driven, hairy-legged Orcus. Margaret Nyland superbly handled the plays narrative and as the in-your-face, cruelly honest Vera, audaciously charming. Ethan Goodman fit the bill as the perplexed Miles and cracked me up as he strutted around the stage as the gelatinous green cube. Zach Rettig was the paradigm of a Dungeon Master and Robert Venne played Steve, who appeared from time to time for no apparent reason. As for Evil Tina (Rebecca Sims) and Evil Gabbi (Minna Schubert), they were just plain evil.

Director Josh Bates and Crew get a thumbs up well done venture.

She Kills Monsters is a D and D themed play filled with comedic one liners and jaw dropping references wrapped up in a slice of cheese served on a silver platter of love, loss, regrets, acceptance and closure. I leave you with this warning: if you tend towards the emotional, you just may shed a tear after all is said in done.

Get your tickets for She Kills Monsters now showing through February 4th.

History of Charleston's Northern Barrier Islands And Their Bridges

Today, Charleston's string of barrier islands extending north from its harbor are covered with beautiful expansive vacation homes. Their sparkling shorelines are host to throngs of visitors and local beach goers spreading their blankets and chairs across their sandy beaches. With that familiar picture in mind, it would be unusual to imagine one of these pristine barrier islands with a Ferris wheel rotating in its ocean skyline, a merry-go-round spinning in its sands, and a Cony Island style roller coaster called The Steeple Chase thundering over its landscape.

In the early colonial days of Charleston and its northern barrier islands, a plank bridge built on barrels connected what is now known as Mt. Pleasant to Sullivan's Island at Cove Inlet. After arriving on Sullivan's Island in 1827 aboard the Waltham and serving as a company clerk at Fort Moultrie, Edgar Allen Poe characterized the island in unflattering yet colorful terms. He wrote in The Gold Bug, "The island is a very singular one. It consists of little else than sea sand, and is about three miles long. Its breadth at no point exceeds a quarter of a mile. It is separated from the main land by a scarcely perceptible creek, oozing its way through a wilderness of reeds and slime, a favorite resort for the marsh hen. The vegetation, as might be supposed, is scant, or at last dwarfish. No trees of any magnitude are to be seen. Near the western extremity, where Fort Moultrie stands, and where are some miserable frame buildings, tenanted during summer, by the fugitives from Charleston dust and fever, may be found, indeed the bristly palmetto; but the whole island, with the exception of the western point, and line of hard, white beach on the seacoast, is covered with dense undergrowth of the sweet myrtle." Of course, we must remember Poe had a unique and dark literary prowess.

Around the same time, Charleston architect Robert Mills had a more complimentary take when describing Sullivan's Island. He wrote in 1826, "This island forms the summer retreat for pleasure and health of all or any in the city that choose to visit it. During the summer season the boats ply constantly between the two places, the distance scarcely exceeding four miles. The village here laid out is called Moultrieville..It contains about 200 houses, all of wood, and which are occupied sometimes to excess during the summer. Moultrieville has a handsome appearance, particularly on entering the harbor; the greater some of the houses (for more than a mile) front the beach, which extends the whole length of the island, a distance of three miles. This beach at low water is very firm and wide, affords a delightful ride or walk, where the delighted visitant may inhale the pure and bracing sea breeze, which wafts health and vigor to the system."

The old floating footbridge stretching across from mainland Mount Pleasant was the only access to Sullivan's Island and stepping stone to the uninhabited 6-mile stretch of sand beyond Breach Inlet called Long Island, aside from boats. During the Civil War, the H. L. Hunley crew crossed it on their way to Breach Inlet where destiny in the form of a metal submersible awaited their arrival.

The Town of Moultrieville gave land to Robert Chisolm for the purpose of building a hotel. Located around Station 22, the New Brighton Hotel was completed in the mid 1880's, later called the Atlantic Beach Hotel. It boasted three beach cottages in addition to the main hotel structure.

Atlantic Beach Hotel

It was in 1897 the vague stretch of sand beyond Breach Inlet, inhabited only by the Atlantic surf, began to be noticed. Dr. J.S. Lawrence built a public amusement and beach resort on the island. With no beach cottages or hotel as of yet, the central gathering spot for visitors was the Pavilion. There was a restaurant that served a meal for 50 cents. Attractions included a Ferris wheel, a merry-go-round, and a roller coaster style ride called The Steeple Chase. The Steeple Chase consisted of five mechanical horses where the riders could race each other around a U-shaped course. The Ferris wheel was originally built for the Chicago World's Fair in 1892 and was used by the Cotton Congress in Atlanta and Coney Island in New York before coming to South Carolina. The beach amusement park became so popular it was dubbed the "Play Ground of the South." The Isle of Palms was born.

In 1898, the planked-bridge was replaced by a trolley bridge designated the Cove Inlet Bridge or the Pitt Street Bridge (before electricity, the earliest trolleys were horse-drawn, and crossed on wooden rails that were known to shift in the sand beds).

Around this time, the electric street car was introduced into the City of Charleston. In July of that same year, the Seashore Road opened. The local paper reported on July 26th, "A great event for the city, the Seashore Road formally opened yesterday. When the Commodore Perry left the new dock of the Charleston Seashore and Railway Company at 9 o'clock yesterday afternoon her spacious deck was crowded with people, all anxious to be among the first to visit that, as yet, unknown country, stretching vaguely behind the familiar shores of Mount Pleasant and Sullivan's Island. The Sappho, her deck also crowded with people, and the Pocosin, not so well patronized, steamed out of their docks just a moment before."

After arriving in Mount Pleasant and departing their ferries, the passengers were loaded unto trolley cars and crossed through Mount Pleasant onto Sullivan's Island via the Pitt Street Bridge towards Breach Inlet to journey across to Isle of Palms. The very first home was constructed by Nicholas Sottile in 1898 at 807 Ocean Boulevard. A fifty room hotel was built in 1906 called the Seashore Hotel and a second hotel was constructed in 1912 called the Hotel Marion by the Sea.

Tragedy struck the Atlantic Beach Hotel on Sullivan's Island. It, along with one of the cottages, burned on January 9, 1925. It was rumored a bootlegger attempting to locate his whiskey in the bushes alongside the hotel lit a match to try and find the whiskey in the dark and thus sparked the destructive flames. A hotel would never be built on the island after that catastrophe.

The Pitt Street Bridge was widened in the 1920's to accommodate vehicular traffic and a draw bridge was added. In 1926, the trolley trestle over Breach Inlet was converted into a bridge, allowing automobiles to cross over from Sullivan's Island. Trolley service to Sullivan's Island ended in 1927.

Up until then, Mount Pleasant and the islands were only connected to Charleston by ferries. In 1929, a cantilever bridge was built across the Cooper River. The Grace Memorial Bridge now made both islands accessible by automobile from Charleston. The Pitt Street Bridge finally closed to traffic when the drawbridge was moved to a new location and the Ben Sawyer Bridge was built in 1945. The bridge rotated on a center axis to allow boat travel along the Intracoastal Waterway.

Remains of the Pitt Street Bridge

Development on the islands increased. On the Isle of Palms, 1,600 acres were purchased by the Finch family in 1972 and they developed the land into a resort known as the Isle of Palms Beach and Racquet Club. As it expanded, it was renamed the Wild Dunes Beach and Racquet Club, and after being sold to new owners in 1984, it became just Wild Dunes.

The Ben Sawyer Bridge became famous on September 22, 1989, when Category 4 Hurricane Hugo struck Sullivan's Island just after midnight and severely damaged the bridge. Pictures of the bridge tilting into the Intracoastal Waterway made the national news. The swing-span portion of the bridge was replaced in 2010 and outfitted with modern technology, but retained the appearance of the original.


With the growth of Wild Dunes and the island in general, plans were drawn up to construct a new bridge that would connect Isle of Palms directly to the town of Mount Pleasant. The Connector or the Clyde Moultrie Dangerfield Bridge was completed in 1993. A storm surge from Hurricane Tourism flooded the island and the rest is modern history.

Isle of Palms and Sullivan's Island have long been my favorite beaches. You will likely find me fishing the fast moving currents of Breach Inlet on any given sunny day or leisurely sitting on the rooftop of the Boathouse Restaurant tending to a cold beer and watching the inlet's resident dolphins cruising the quiet backwaters with the brilliant colors of the setting sun lighting their way. Other times, you will catch me reclining on the nostalgic upper deck of Coconut Joe's enjoying the island sounds of a Reggae band or mounting a paddleboard at the bustling IOP Marina on Morgan Creek for a serene paddle on the island's marine rich estuary waters. Sullivan's Island is the perfect seacoast setting to photograph a flock of kite surfers catching the brisk Atlantic breezes or strolling the sandy stone barriers of Fort Moultrie watching huge container ships entering and exiting the harbor. And after all has been said and done, I invite you to join me for some light conversation and shared companionship at the tavern named after the island's famous resident author, Poe's.

Let The Light Through--A Piece Of Charleston's French Heritage

French is considered to be "le langage de l'amour." So, one may ask: What is it about French that qualifies it to be called "the language of love?" One reason, French is very euphonious. The tone of the spoken words tend to be more delicate sounding to the ears. Also, vowels and consonants are well distributed resulting in more harmonious phrases. Finally, the need to conjugate verbs makes it ideal for writing poetry and music.

Take for example, the French phrase "claire-voie." Attempting to pronounce the phrase in English, a person may be inclined to say it as if it were pronounced "clairevoyee," when actually the correct pronunciation, as if it were spoken in English would sound like "claire-vua" in proper French. You would have to agree, it is more "poétique."

I first came across the phrase "claire-voie" while researching the history of Charleston's wrought iron legacy for a recent article. It was listed along with such items as nails, boot scrapers, horseshoes, balconies, locks, and latches, which were used by colonial Charlestonians. To me, it seemed to be out of place.

When I looked up the translation of the phrase, I discovered it to mean "let the light through" or more literally an "openwork." A "claire-voie" is typically achieved with hedging or it can be an ironwork screen, openwork fence, gate, or grille placed in a wall through which a vista can be enjoyed. One of the most famous examples of a claire-voie is a round opening in a hedge of the White Garden at Sissinghurst Garden Castle in England.

I have strolled the wrought iron rich streets south of Broad Street many times and never realized the grated openings in residential walls allowing passersby a peek into the beautifully landscaped gardens beyond had a name. So, armed with my newly acquired information, I packed my camera and headed for the downtown peninsula of Charleston to search out examples of a claire-voie. I found them to be everywhere. This is a small collection I gathered on my excursion.

The French language is no stranger to Charleston. There has been a French influence in the city since its early colonial days. The Hugenots, French Protestants fleeing persecution and seeking religious freedom, came to Charleston in 1680 to start a community. The early congregation was made up of these Hugenot refugees sent by King Charles II to establish themselves as artisans and tradesmen. Within the original walled city, the district became known as the now famous French Quarter.

Preceded by two other churches, the still standing Gothic Revival-style French Huguenot Church, located at 136 Church Street, was completed in 1845. It was the first building of this style constructed in Charleston. Wealthy French merchants established a business presence and built homes. Legare Street is named for goldsmith Solomom Legare "the Hugenot," who built the first house at 32 Legare Street.

Like a surging Atlantic tide, peoples of varying cultures spilled into a river fed inlet of a distant new world and washed unto the shores of an oyster laden peninsula where they established what would grow into a bustling international sea port called Charleston. In this shared space, their varying beliefs and distinct dialects converged. They exchanged ideas and architecture. The French claire-voie was one of those shared concepts that found its way into the beautifully fashioned gardens of the elegant estates of America's most celebrated historic landscapes.

A Peek Into Charleston's Preeminent Wrought Iron Legacy

The top of St. Michael's Church

In the iron hands of a blacksmith, it can be bent, twisted, and welded into whatever shape the imagination can dream up. Despite easily yielding to the geometric manipulations of the skillful smithy, it is equally rugged and impervious to corrosion. This pliable yet resilient alloy is known the world over as wrought iron. It was the preferred material for the crafting of window grates, boot scrapers, balconies, fences, gates and claire-voies by the discerning Charlestonian. The forged ornamental ironworks gracing the downtown peninsula of Charleston, conceived in inspiration and born by fire, are the most impressive public collection in the country. Most often painted black and sometimes Charleston green, during the 19th-century it was also painted in bright, vivid colors.

Though centuries have past and Charleston's old buildings and walls bear the colors of age, its decorative ironworks remain resolute. They stand as a symbol of the City's unwavering steadfastness in the face of the most unspeakable upheavals and as a testimony to its matchless charm and elegance. For anyone exploring the old thoroughfares from the French Quarter to the Lower Peninsula, the black iron fences and scrolled gates are not only visually stunning, but they also offer an unobstructed peek into another one of Charleston's treasures, the beautifully landscaped gardens beyond.

In the early colonial days of Charleston, wrought iron served more humble uses as nails, horseshoes, hinges and latches. Decorative wrought iron was imported from across the pond. It was placed as window grates and balconies. At the beginning of the 19th century, as the city grew in wealth and prestige, the demand for ornate ironworks spiraled. Three masters of the anvil stepped into the limelight, J.A.W. Iusti (1817-1895), Christopher Werner (1805-1875), and Frederic Julius Ortmann (1839-1899). All were immigrants from Germany. They blended old world ways with new world ideas and fashioned designs that spoke to the heart of Charleston and its intersecting cultures. Of the three, Werner's name stands out the most.

Unfortunately, the 19th century was an era when Charleston suffered the most unspeakable upheavals. Devastating fires, the turbulent Civil War, and a foundation shaking earthquake destroyed some of their masterpieces. Nonetheless, many of Werner's works survived.

Today a relatively quiet corner just south of the Old City Market, in the late 1830's Christopher Werner worked his magic at his foundry located near the intersection of Cumberland and State Street. It was there he produced one of Charleston's most preeminent ornamental wrought iron gates.

In 1838, architect Charles F. Reichardt was commissioned to design a new Guard House for use by the City Guard. Werner was chosen to produce the ironwork for the project, which would include a set of gates and window grilles. This is where the facts of the story get a little sketchy. The story puts forward the idea Werner misunderstood the request of a quartermaster for a "pair of gates" as meaning two sets of gates, so he created two identical pairs featuring horizontal swords.

One account says the ordered pair of Werner's sword gates was never actually installed at the Guard House--the city refused to pay what it considered too high a price. In any case, the wrought iron grilles with the same sword design were installed in the buildings windows. In 1861, the Guard House was damaged by the great fire of that year. In 1886, it was severely damaged by the earthquake and demolished. Whatever the true facts are, one set of the sword gates was preserved and eventually installed at the main entrance of The Citadel near Hampton Park along with the window grilles from the demolished Guard House. The Citadel opened in 1843. Exactly when the gates were installed is unclear.

As for the other set of Werner's sword gates, British consul George Hopley bought the original Solomon Legare property at 32 Legare Street in 1849 and added a new wing to the existing house, which was Madame Talvande's French School for Young Ladies at the time. In that same year, Copley acquired one of the pair of sword gates and installed it in the property's high brick wall. The celebrated residence is now known as the Sword Gate House.

More of Werner's works:


The Nathaniel Russell House balcony with his initials on Meeting Street

The Harp Gate at the Hibernian Hall on Meeting Street

The John Rutledge House ironworks painted Charleston green on Broad Street

Other wrought iron masterpieces, fences and gates located throughout Charleston:

Many books and articles have been written about Charleston's famed wrought iron legacy. An age old legacy that is second to none. Walking the sidewalks along the oak draped, black fence-lined corridors South of Broadway bestows on you a sense of serenity and reverence. A proud history zealously guarded as elegantly as the City's wrought iron fences and gates guards its most cherished properties. I hope you enjoyed my telling and photographs.