Six Miles to Charleston

by Bruce Orr

  Most people hear of the legend during haunted tours or ghost walks through the city; therefore, one cannot address the legend without first addressing the paranormal aspects of the story. Lavinia’s ghost is supposed to haunt the Old City Jail at 21 Magazine Street and the Unitarian Church Cemetery on Archdale Street. I have been to both and have yet to encounter her. One would think that because I am writing a book about her it would merit a response, but, alas, she has digressed at being interviewed.

  In 2006, I met Alessa Bertoluzzi, who reintroduced me to the legend of Lavinia. Alessa is affiliated with the Summerville–Dorchester Museum and has become a good friend and supporter of this book. At that time we were both members of a local paranormal group of which I had the dubious honor of being thrown out of. If you want to do a paranormal investigation, then you need to invite a seasoned, skeptical investigator—me. If you want to do a “ghost hunt,” take pictures of dust bunnies and call them orbs, record mouse sneezes and swear they are disembodied spirits speaking to you and automatically rubberstamp everything as “haunted,” then please do not invite me. I debunked their investigation, their photographs and their EVPs (electronic voice phenomenon), much to their horror, and was subsequently voted out of the group, much to my delight.

  When it comes to the paranormal, I do have an active interest. I also have my own conclusions. Paranormal means something beyond the norm. When all normal avenues of an occurrence have been examined and are found not to be the cause, then a paranormal situation exists. Something other than normal conditions created the event. Paranormal does not equal ghost. Frankly, I have investigated those things, and to me, the jury is still out on them. I am not a ghost hunter. I am an investigator and a researcher. Investigations and research can be applied to all fields, including the paranormal. In fact, with that type of approach, many “hauntings” are debunked. True paranormal investigation is not ghost hunting. Ghost hunters believe that every orb is a spirit, and every place they visit is indeed haunted. Paranormal investigators explore all aspects. They are skeptical, and skepticism makes an excellent investigative tool. Not every orb is a ghost, and the phantom smell you are experiencing could very well be the burrito your partner had two hours earlier.

  Along the way, I met Ike Katsilianos of Darkwater Paranormal Investigations. Ike is skeptical, but open-minded. He has a military background and is not too easily convinced that a ghost lurks behind every tombstone in Charleston. He asked me to become involved with his group in researching fact and separating it from fiction. It was something I had always done in criminal investigations, and it was very easy to adapt to the paranormal. Ike and I began to discuss some of the problems with many of the local legends. One of those discussions included the John and Lavinia Fisher legend and the probability that most of the truth of the case died with them. As an investigator, I felt that there had to be a paper trail. I don’t care when the events occurred, the fact that a married couple who robbed and murdered their guests and were executed for it means it’s going to be documented somewhere. There would be too much public interest for it not to be. There had to be reports; there had to be criminal records. Thus the quest for the Fisher facts began.

  Although this is not an examination of the paranormal, I will admit more than one bizarre event has accompanied the research of this book. Many personal experiences occurred at the Old City Jail on my many trips there. Upward of ten thousand people are believed to have died on that spot, so if there is the possibility for a haunting that location is the candidate with the most qualifications.

  The most bizarre experience with this book occurred one night while using the Internet in an effort to locate some overseas assistance in my research. The researcher was located and the information in regard to what I was looking for was forwarded. The next morning, the e-mail response was stunning. There is nothing stranger than waking up one morning, opening your e-mail and receiving a message from Lavinia Fisher. I actually spilled my coffee. My young newfound Italian friend (she looks remarkably lovely for someone who died almost two hundred years ago) did assist me in the information I requested; although it is a mere coincidence that the names are the same, one cannot help but concede that it is truly a bizarre one.

  Again with that being said, this book is not an investigation into the paranormal. It is not my intention to prove or disprove that the ghost of Lavinia Fisher exists. I will leave that to Ike and others to do. This book has nothing to do with ghosts whatsoever. My intentions here are to reexamine all of the available information of the case that I could find and separate fact from fiction. Truth is what I had hoped to find. This book is a step-by-step documentation of what transpired at Six Mile House, what was occurring during the time of this event and what happened in the aftermath.

  What began as a part-time project for a retired criminal investigator turned into a three-year endeavor into the facts of the case. One article would reveal a name that would lead to another record that would lead to another archive, etc., etc. That is what happens in an investigation. One piece of evidence points to the next. One witness account is corroborated by another, and on and on the process goes until the investigator begins to see a picture of the events as they unfolded. Eventually the truth gets sifted and separated from what has been created and fabricated. That is what happened here, and to be frank, I was surprised at the results. As I combed old newspapers, microfiche and archives searching for records, a different story began to emerge. It was a story far different from the one I had read so many years ago as a child or even the ones I debated with my friends as an adult.

  In 1819, a crime was alleged to have been committed by the Fishers. An arrest was made; a case was formed; a trial occurred where a verdict was rendered; a sentence was passed; and a punishment was executed. That is what occurred. That chain of events is exactly what should occur in any criminal investigation regardless of the time—1819 is no different than today. That is the path justice should follow regardless. This book will review what transpired in this case from the incident to the punishment based on the facts at hand.

  What started as a curious hobby researching two vile murderers eventually turned into an investigation that completely changed my mind in regard to what actually happened. It is my hope that you too will take what is revealed here through actual accounts and separate the fact from the fiction. I hope that this book actually reveals the truth of Six Mile House and the story of John and Lavinia Fisher will no longer be lost in legend.

  CHAPTER 1

  The Time

  1819

  In order to understand what occurred with the Fishers, one must first understand the times in which they were living. This chapter will give you a perspective of the events surrounding 1819 and how those events were affecting not only Charleston, but the country as well.

  To give you an idea of exactly where 1819 fell within this country’s history, let’s take a minute and pinpoint it using historical characters and events. In 1819, Davy Crockett was still fighting Indians and was two years away from becoming a member of the Tennessee legislature. He had not yet met his fate at the Alamo. Another historical pioneer, Daniel Boone, was still alive but would die the following year. This was long before westward movement, the Indian Removal Act of 1830 or Custer and Crazy Horse at the Battle of Little Bighorn in 1876. The War of 1812 had ended, and the Civil War, which would start in Charleston, was still decades away.

  In 1819, the threat of Indian attacks was a legitimate one. President James Monroe, the fifth president of the United States, had been engaged in issues with the Seminole and the Creek tribes and had ordered Andrew Jackson to war against them. The following year the president would be engaged in treaty negotiations with another Native American faction, the Choctaw. The threat of Indians was a legitimate fear for most of the country. Since the colonization of the country, it always had been. Although the threat was not as prevalent during that year, Charleston had faced its own Indian massacres in its past.

  In
1819, Florida was newly acquired, and President Monroe was also busy ironing out disputes with the Spanish colonies with the Treaty of 1819. This year also included a visit by President Monroe to Charleston, a move that may have directly affected the Fishers and what happened to them. In 1819, Missouri sought statehood as a slave state, while Maine was declared a free state. Slavery was still a major source of labor in the United States, although the country was beginning to see its first divisions regarding the issue—a division that would eventually split the nation into North and South.

  If the embers of division over slavery were just beginning to glow, kindling was about to be added to it. Congress would authorize President Monroe to send vessels to suppress the African slave trade in 1819 and in the following year Congress would define the slave trade as piracy. The slave trade had always been important to Charleston, and in fact, the city had been one of the largest, if not the largest, slave markets in the country. This fact caused the slave population to rapidly grow in Charleston. The 1790 census listed 15,402 whites to 51,585 blacks. The reality was that the whites of Charleston were the minority in the population; these growing numbers of slaves would continue to rise. This would lead to new laws and tougher restrictions on the slaves known as the “Negro Act.” Tighter curfews were enforced, and a slave (all of whom had their owners’ surnames as part of their names) caught past curfew without his owner’s written permission would find himself making a trip to the “Sugar House.” Sometimes a “valuable” slave’s master was sent for although most stayed until their masters came searching for them.

  The Sugar House was an old sugar warehouse that now served as a prison and a “correctional” facility for errant slaves. What is meant by correctional is that they would be tortured into compliance. A slave taken to the Sugar House may spend the rest of the night being chained to a post and whipped as a reminder not to repeat the infraction. By the time his master located him and paid the fine, the slave was practically useless. Many owners knew this and left the slaves there. If the errant slave was not claimed in sixty days, he could be sold to pay for his room and board.

  Ironically, whipping was probably the most preferable treatment inside the confines of the place, for within the walls of the Sugar House was a giant treadmill that was used for grinding corn. The treadmill was powered by slave labor continually pushing the treadmill around the clock. Black overseers with whips made sure the treadmill kept going. Many a tired slave fell, was dragged into and under the contraption and lost a limb or two; several had lost their lives. The contaminated grain would be gathered up at this point and separated, and the process would start again. The contaminated grain containing bits of freshly ground slave were used to feed the imprisoned slaves of the Sugar House and the prisoners of the City Jail.

  The site of the Sugar House, in the vicinity of 15 Magazine Street, was also a place of execution for slave crimes. What better place to make an example than on the lawn of the facility that housed those who may become repeat offenders? One such example occurred in 1769 when two slaves, Dolly and Liverpoole, were executed for poisoning a white infant in their care and the attempted poisoning of the child’s mother. Liverpoole had been discovered to have supplied the poison, and Dolly had administered it. They both were burned alive on the jailhouse grounds as both punishment for their crimes and as a deterrent for those who dared to think of harming their masters.

  Such treatment did not endear the slave owners to the slave population. Animosity ran high. Charleston had already experienced an attempted slave uprising in 1720 and had endured an actual rebellion in 1739 near the Stono River. The Stono Rebellion, as it was called, resulted in the murders of twenty whites. This had been the catalyst that led to the stricter laws of the Negro Act. With the continually increasing numbers of blacks, the citizens of Charleston were again in fear of rebellion during 1819. In fact, in 1822, there would be discovered a conspiracy of a very organized slave uprising and revolt. Denmark Vesey, a local slave, and many of his associates would go to the gallows. Estimates have it that upward of ten thousand blacks had been recruited into Vesey’s Rebellion in one fashion or another. In 1819, Denmark Vesey was already fanning the flames of dissention, and the white slave owners, the Negro Act laws and the Sugar House only fueled those flames.

  In 1819, the country was experiencing its first economic issues. What would be known as the Panic of 1819 was actually the first major financial crisis this country had ever felt. It was largely caused by the end of economic expansion after the War of 1812 (which ended in 1815). Ironically, much like the events of the twenty-first century, the war had caused economic collapse. Bank failures, foreclosures and unemployment were high; marketing, manufacturing and farm exporting had slumped; and European demand was decreased because Europe had reached a state where agricultural and farming industries had recovered after being destroyed by the Napoleonic War. In the Charleston paper, the Charleston Courier, dated June 2, 1819, an article with the headline “Alarming Times” ran as follows:

  Never within the recollection of our oldest citizens, has the aspect of the times, as it respects property and money, been so alarming. Already has property been sacrificed, in considerable quantities, in this and neighbouring [sic] counties, for less than half its value. We have but little money in circulation, and that little is daily diminishing.

  The city was concerned with the diminishing value of their properties, civil judgments and executions in the amount of “many hundred thousand dollars” were hanging over the heads of many. They further lamented that warrants, writs and judgments would soon far outnumber the amount of currency in circulation. The city looked to the state, the state looked to the country and no one seemed to have an answer to the economic crisis. Many feared that Charleston would soon be reduced to a city of beggars, vagrants, thieves and cutthroats.

  It appeared that the concerns of the citizens of Charleston had a legitimate basis. Exports from Charleston were dwindling, but those that did leave the ports were not guaranteed safe passage. Unfortunately piracy was still quite prevalent in the waters in and about the Charleston harbor. Many ships became “patriots” of other countries and committed piracy under the flags of those countries. Pirates no longer flew their own personal flags. Flags such as the Jolly Roger with its skull and crossbones were now highly recognizable and even to this day that particular flag has become the trademark symbol of piracy. This new age of piracy realized their own personal flags and banners attracted too much undesired attention, so they learned to be more discreet and often downright covert. In fact, one such enterprising pirate, Captain George Clark, had commanded the Louisa under the flag of Buenos Aires. In 1819, he and members of his crew were housed in the city’s jail and were awaiting trial for piracy.

  The Louisa had been a privateer vessel under the command of Captain Joseph Almeina in the War of 1812. Its armament had been ten guns, and the ship had been manned with forty men. It now boasted sixteen guns and a total of eighty-six men. Under Captain Almeina’s command, it had captured a Spanish vessel, and he placed the ship under the command of his lieutenant, Mr. Smith, as he himself left with a boarding party. The gunner, George Clark (also called Craig), took advantage of this moment and took over the ship in a mutiny. The officers of the vessel who remained in support of the previous captain were confined. They were eventually released to a French freighter. Now under Clark’s command, the Louisa wreaked havoc on the seas. They attacked first a British ship and then an American ship loaded with freight from France. They then sailed to the Isle of May, an island off the coast of Scotland. Once there, Clark plundered two American vessels harbored there—the Charles from New York and the Boston from Alexandria, Virginia. The raid went so well that they then continued on to plunder the entire town.

  They were doing so well that they then set sail toward America and, along the way, plundered a Russian ship, a French vessel and another two American vessels, one bound for Rio de Janeiro and the other from Boston bound for Havana. Up
until now, Clark had done surprisingly well and had been amazingly lucky in his endeavors as a pirate. Now, to his misfortune, his luck was about to change. By now the Louisa had suffered damage in the attacks and was also being searched for. Clark noted a passing ship and pretended to be disabled and distressed. The ship cautiously moved in to investigate. Clark met with the American schooner from North Carolina and sent all his crew on board except for about twenty-five. Rest assured he used the pretext that his ship had been attacked by pirates. The unsuspecting North Carolina vessel accepted the crew in this heroic “rescue,” not realizing that they were actually pirates themselves and not victims. Clark’s ruse worked well for his crew.

  Captain Clark and this current handful of men stayed behind and scuttled the ship off the coast of Charleston. They turned its own guns upon the ship, set it on fire and left it in flames. The men and Clark then took lifeboats from the vessel and rowed ashore. They then proceeded to Charleston. Their intent was to plunder Charleston much as they had the Isle of May. Unfortunately Captain Clark’s reign of piracy would come to an end in Charleston in 1819, and his life would come to an end in March 1820 at the end of a rope.

  Piracy was not the only threat that Charleston faced from the sea. In June 1819, a yellow fever epidemic forced Governor John Geddes to issue a quarantine proclamation against vessels arriving at Charleston. The vessels were to drop anchor at Fort Johnson and be inspected prior to sailing into Charleston. The commanding officer of Fort Johnson was ordered to enforce this quarantine, with arms and firepower if necessary, against any vessel violating the proclamation. This created further problems for shipping, and the newly appointed governor had his hands full.