Within mere months following the end of the War Between The States,
citizens set aside special days to remember their fallen heroes. The
earliest known date for Union soldiers was May 1, 1865 when thousands
of freed slaves and white missionaries gathered at the Washington
Race Course and Jockey Club in Charleston, South Carolina to
commemorate the deaths of those who fought to obtain their liberty.
Other ceremonies
popped up around the country during which thankful Americans met for
reminiscing, prayers, singing and decorating the memorials of their
loved ones. The first nationally recognized event occurred at
Arlington National Cemetery on May 30, 1868 to honor the fallen. It
was known as Decoration Day. Though the day has since become known
as Memorial Day and declared a national holiday beginning in 1971,
decorating the graves of loved ones, friends and noble strangers has
remained the central activity.
Many wars have come
and gone; millions have died. Some in military service, many more in
civil service, or simply in service to their families. If you’ve
spent past Memorial Days at the beach, picnicking, or otherwise
making merry, consider taking some time this holiday to visit a local
cemetery to tidy, plant flowers or flags, and decorate a resting
place before going about the rest of your day.
Late fall is a favorite season for strolling here in the Deep South. The weather is cooler, often clement, and natural colors can be outstanding. Containers and beds are brimming with annuals such as pansies, snapdragons and ornamental brassicas. Camellias are in full bloom, and some azaleas are still showing off. What’s more, flowering vines can be outstanding, and there’s usually a bit of serendipity.
We enjoyed such a day just last week. I had no sooner stepped out of my car parked on South Battery when I overheard a lady in a horse-drawn carriage ask the coachwoman if she could identify a plant she saw nearby that was covered with bright red berries. The driver could not, so I politely offered my service. “That is a holly. Weeping Yaupon holly. Ilex vomitoria ‘Pendula’,” I said while pantomiming so she could get the picture.
After that brief introduction to the type of character they might meet around Charleston, we began to stroll up King Street. It wasn’t long before we stopped to photograph flowering vines spilling over a garden wall. Frankly, that is about the extent of what one might see in gardens along the way. High walls and wrought iron gates prevent visitors from getting too close and seeing too much. As long as we stay outside the gates, homeowners usually don’t mind admirers peering through the bars. In fact, most residents usually spend a great deal of money maintaining their lovely window boxes and street plantings for others to enjoy.
Here are a few of the garden sights we enjoyed.
Caesalpinia mexicana
Mixed window box with Carex and Snapdragons
Tecoma capensis
Mixed window box planting
Use of dwarf mondo in driveway
Private garden
Mixed window box planting
Espalier with Trachelospermum jasminoides
Mixed street planting
Camellia espaliers
Window box with pansies, Lamium and brassicas
Enchanting gateway
Lamium, petunia, pansy, sweet alyssum, brassica
Alley beckoning
Container garden with camellia background
Streetside garden
Still, one can’t help wondering what grows behind the garden wall.
In the final analysis there is no other solution to man's progress but the day's honest work, the day's honest decision, the day's generous utterances, and the day's good deed.
--- Clare Boothe Luce.
...my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. --- Philippians 4:19.
branch of the Cooper River, in Berkeley County, South Carolina. One can not stroll the grounds or gaze across the river without a sense of its fascinating history.
The area was originally settled by Native American tribes, mainly Kiawah. Wanting protection from their immigrant, cannibalistic Westoe neighbors, and the
Spanish to the south, the Kiawah tribes welcomed the English.
As the English expanded their territories in North America, the Crown set up a system of Lords Proprietors to oversee them. Few Lords Proprietors, if any, ever set foot on their territories. The original Lords Proprietors of the Province of Carolina included:
Though they may have never visited, their names remain as places on maps.
Joel Gascoyne, “A new map of the country of Carolina.” Ca. 1682. American Memory, Library of Congress http://memory.loc.gov/
Proprietary Grants were often given to heirs of Lords Proprietors. The Mepkin Plantation site was part of such grants made to three of Sir John Colleton's sons: Peter, Thomas and James. Mepkin belonged to James Colleton. The plantation passed to James's son, John, then to John's son, John, Esq.
Lords Proprietors responsibilities included protecting the colonists from invasion. They didn't do a good job of it. The colonists had to defend themselves from French and Spanish troops, pirates and hostile tribes. The colonists complained and petitioned the Crown again and again to take over the administration, which it did, finally. The Crown purchased the interests of seven of the Lords Proprietors in 1729 for £22,500 - about what they had in them.
Carolina was declared a Royal Colony and assigned to Governors. Some Governors were grandsons or great-grandsons of Lords Proprietors. Sir John Colleton of Exmouth, Devon was named Governor.
No doubt the Colletons were noted for the day's honest work, the day's honest decision, the day's generous utterances, and the day's good deed. But tremendous accomplishment was also achieved by Sir James Colleton's Attorney and plantation manager, John Stuart. John gained land and wealth, and achieved much more, however he claimed that his boss, James Colleton wrongly took credit for many of his contributions.
In 1762, John Colleton, Esq. sold Mepkin, including the original 3,000 acres of the Proprietary Grant to Henry Laurens.
Henry Laurens was an import/export merchant in Charleston. His business included the slave trade. He quit the import/export business in 1776 to
become a planter and statesman.
The time was ripe. Laurens rose to positions of importance in the emerging nation. Elected to Minister to Holland by the Continental Congress in 1779, he set sail in 1780, but was captured en route by the British. Laurens was imprisoned in the Tower of London for fifteen months until being released prematurely in anticipation of a prisoner exchange to get Lord Cornwallis back. Cornwallis was returned a little later than expected.
Laurens family cemetery.
Laurens returned to Mepkin in 1784. His house had been burned. Another was built, but no remains are left. Though elected to other important positions, he declined. He was tired. Henry Laurens died in 1792. His remains were cremated and buried at Mepkin.
Henry left the plantation to his son, Henry. The latter sold Mepkin in 1916 to J.W. Johnson, Esq. Johnson left it to his daughter, Mrs. Nicholas G. Rutgers. Rutgers sold it in 1936 to Henry R. Luce and his wife, Clare Boothe Luce. The Luces enlisted noted American landscape architect Loutrel Winslow Briggs to design their gardens at Mepkin.
On January 11, 1944, Clare's nineteen-year-old daughter, Ann Clare Brokaw, a senior at Stanford University, was killed in an automobile accident. Her death devastated her mother. Seeking solace, Clare turned to Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen for counseling. Clare Boothe Luce converted to the Roman Catholic Church in 1946.
In 1949, the Luces contributed a large portion of Mepkin Plantation to the Church for use by the Trappists. Twenty-nine monks moved from Gethsemani, Kentucky to found the Abbey.
St. Benedict of Nursia
Life at Mepkin Abbey is guided by the Rule of St. Benedict of Nursia. Some of his precepts include:
Idleness is the enemy of the soul.Therefore the sisters should be occupied at certain times in manual labor, and again at fixed hours in sacred reading.
...then are they truly monastics when they live by the labor of their hands,as did our Fathers and the Apostles.
The tenth degree of humility is that he be not ready and quick to laugh, for it is written, "The fool lifts up his voice in laughter" (Eccles. 21:23).
Let us do what the Prophet says: "I said, 'I will guard my ways, that I may not sin with my tongue. I have set a guard to my mouth.' I was mute and was humbled, and kept silence even from good things" (Ps. 38[39]:2-3). Here the Prophet shows that if the spirit of silence ought to lead us at times to refrain even from good speech, so much the more ought the punishment for sin make us avoid evil words.
Let all things be common to all,
as it is written (Acts 4:32),
and let no one say or assume that anything is his own.
Let all guests who arrive be received like Christ,
for He is going to say,
"I came as a guest, and you received Me" (Matt. 25:35). And to all let due honor be shown, especially to the domestics of the faith and to pilgrims.
The Trappists live by the work of their hands. Enterprises might include many things such as egg production, jam and jelly making or brewing. The monks at Mepkin Abbey grow shiitake and oyster mushrooms, operate a gift shop, sell books and art work, and provide a columbarium. Everything is reasonably priced, too, though I haven't inquired about the price of a niche in the Mepkin Columbarium. As St. Benedict ordered, The evil of avarice must have no part in establishing prices, which
should, therefore, always be a little lower than people outside the
monastery are able to set,” so that in all things God may be glorified.
While in the gift shop, I asked where we could find the Columbarium. I had heard about it before. The shopkeeper told me where to find it. He confided that "people are dying to be buried there." Keep in mind that St. Benedict didn't forbid laughter but discouraged quick laughter. I smiled in acceptance. That left me to wonder whether the shopkeeper was a Trappist monk, or just teasing me.
Except for possible lawn mowing, there is an air of silence at Mepkin. We only spoke to the gift shop attendant, and I wasn't sure he was a monk. Even at work, the monks only speak when necessary. There was no idle chatter. The silence enriched our experience.
There's no way a casual visitor would know for sure, but a friend of mine who retreated to Mepkin Abbey confirmed that, according to their Mission Statement, "all things are common to all" with the exception of a few simple, permitted items such as toothbrushes.
That brings me to the subject of hospitality. Christians worldwide have been known since their earliest history for hospitality, grace and mercy. The Trappists at Mepkin Abbey may receive you for a retreat at Mepkin Abbey if there are enough beds available. Men and women, husbands and wives are welcome, but will have to sleep apart.
If you want to become a retreatant at Mepkin Abbey, feel free to apply. Don't expect your life to be easy, full of leisure, mindless meditation, enjoying the beauty, sniffing the flowers and photographing while someone else works hard. You will, no doubt, experience the day's honest
work, the day's honest decision, the day's generous utterances, and the
day's good deed. Work hard at it. But, in the final analysis, ...my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. ---Philippians 4:19.
If you're scratching your noggin and wondering whether Monck's Corner, South Carolina was named for the monks at Mepkin Abbey, it was not. The place pertains to George Monck, 1st Duke of Albemarle, mentioned above.
Follow me now to see what grows behind the garden wall. Here are some of my photographs.
The spiritual life is first of all a life. It is not merely something to be known and studied, it is to be lived. ― Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude
If you, dear reader, have visited Mepkin Abbey, tell us about your experience in the comment section. We'd love to hear from you.
"Pedestrian" has been given an unfortunate meaning: lacking in vitality, commonplace, dull. But after two mind- and butt-numbing round-trip drives from Georgia to DC on the I-95 corridor in as many months, I can assure you that "pedestrian" is anything but.
My New Year's Day trip started like the others, in rain. The driving rhythm and competition to "get ahead" was compelling. But not long after exiting the interstate onto US 17N, I was forced by the posted speed limit to slow to an unwelcomed crawl. Highway stretches lined with moss-draped oaks, and marshes exuding sulfury miasma intoxicated me enough. By the time I crossed the Ashley River into Charleston, I longed to mosey. It being a holiday, I easily found a parking spot on Meeting Street near White Point Gardens. Rainfall ended; a few rays of sunshine sliced through the clouds. I grabbed my camera. From there, I strolled south and east to the Battery, back west on Murray Boulevard to Lenwood Boulevard, northward to Tradd Street, and eastward to complete the circuit.
Gardens entice me. Walled ones seduce me to point at doorways and windows, to lean over fences, to poke my lens through grates and gates, to stroll brazenly where others may fear to tread. If anyone challenges me, I'll say, "It's okay. I'm a perfessional." Though no one has, I'm ready; I've rehearsed it a thousand times.
The accompanying photographs amount to a confession of sorts. Follow me now to enjoy the vitality and imagination of a few of Charleston's gardeners that pedestrians may enjoy.
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