#TBT: Columbia’s Arsenal Hill neighborhood
This is part of our #TBT collaboration with Historic Columbia + their “Getting to Know Your Neighborhood” series.

We’re back with another stroll through one of Columbia’s neighborhoods. This week, we’re getting to know Arsenal Hill. Quick — let’s go while the weather’s still good.

Image courtesy South Caroliniana Library, University of South Carolina

City on a Hill

Arsenal Hill was one of Columbia’s first residential areas. It sat at the westernmost border of Columbia’s original grid. These days, its borders are defined by Elmwood, Assembly, Taylor + Huger St.

Its status as the highest point in Columbia’s original 2x2-mile city limits made it desirable. (Anyone who has ever wriggled their way onto the roof of the VARO building knows what I’m talking about. #Views for days.) While poor, working-class families built cottages at lower elevations and closer to the river, the monied elite tended more toward the northwest of the city. (Think Robert Mills District.)

South Carolina Governor's Mansion. "Artwork of Columbia, S.C., published by Gravure Illustration Company, 1905." Historic Columbia collection, HCF 2008.4.1A

Back in the day, Arsenal Hill would have been studded with Queen Anne and Victorian homes. These ornate structures looked more like gingerbread houses than real-life homes. The Lace House is a fine example of the type of detailing you could find throughout Arsenal Hill. (Is it weird to say that the Lace House makes me hungry? Like, I want to eat that wrought iron like a Blue Flour cookie. No one? Just me?)

Over time, the neighborhood’s built landscape and population makeup shifted. After the Civil War, some African Americans who had been enslaved in the mansions atop found themselves remaining in the neighborhood. Some found work as domestic servants in the houses atop the hill. The railway ran nearby and had more and more openings in the later 19th century which were filled by both blacks and whites form the working class.

The farther up Arsenal Hill you lived, the more money you had. At the top were ornate, gingerbread house-lookalikes built with planter-class money. The farther down you traveled on the hill (and the closer to the railroad) the more affordable the housing became.

Shotgun houses were built throughout the 1880s as an affordable solution for working – and middle-class families. The style draws its name from the common belief that you could shoot a shotgun from the front of the house and the shot would travel, uninterrupted, through the back door. The modest plan suited the narrow lots found in this part of the city.

Arsenal Hill’s combination of residential development with industrial, commercial, spiritual, educational + governmental institutions have resulted in an eclectic mix of architecture and community histories.

What’s in a name?

In this case, everything. Just as Cottontown was named for the cotton warehouses that lines its streets, Arsenal Hill was named for the military academy perched high atop the Columbia’s skyline. Founded in 1842, South Carolina Military College originally consisted of the Citadel in Charleston and Arsenal Academy in Cola.

Line drawing of Arsenal Military Academy from the perspective of Richland Street looking south, undated. The two-story officers' quarters on the right survived the Burning of Columbia in 1865 and became the Governor's Mansion in 1869. Image courtesy Governor’s Mansion Collection.

In 1855, the officers’ quarters were constructed at 800 Richland Street. The site survived the Civil War and the 1965 fire. During Reconstruction, the site was repurposed as the Governor's Mansion in 1869. The mansion received electrical service in 1894, just in time for — you guessed it — the installation of an electric trolley line within the neighborhood. Anyone who has ever attempted to jog up Richland St. from Huger knows why 19th century Soda Citizens were all about that trolley. (Three words: Out. Of. Breath.)

Colorized postcard depicting the Governor's Mansion, circa 1915. Historic Columbia collection

Chutes and Ladders

Columbia's earliest fire protection came from volunteer companies whose engine houses were popular spots for monthly socials and gatherings. (I’d imagine those parties were lit… and then quickly extinguished.)

Image courtesy South Carolina State Museum

The Phoenix Hook and Ladder Company, formerly known as the Ax, Ladder, and Hook Company, maintained a facility overlooking Sidney Park. (Today, it’s the northwest corner of Taylor + Assembly St. where the post office sits.)

During the antebellum period, both free and enslaved people of color could serve within the ranks of the engine companies. While they were not permitted to actually fight the fires, they could drive the engine from blaze to blaze. At the Ax, Ladder, and Hook Company, however, African Americans were barred from service entirely.

From the late-nineteenth century until 1905, Jewish residents held religious services on the second floor.

Back to the Green Book

Fans of Vox or the 99% Invisible Podcast (or this very #TBT series) might already have heard of the Negro Travelers’ Green Book. Founded in 1936, Victor Hugo Green’s Green Book sought to "give the Negro traveler information that will keep him from running into difficulties, embarrassments and to make his trips more enjoyable." The publication came in especially handy across the Jim Crow South.

From about 1940 through 1960, Harriet Cornwell, a teacher at Waverly School, welcomed African American travelers who would have otherwise been turned away from white-owned motels and hotels in Columbia. Her residence was among a handful of Columbia houses whose owners provided safe accommodations for African Americans. Four other such properties, including the S.H. Smith Tourist Home, at 929 Pine St. in Lower Waverly, still stand.

Remembered as a neighborhood leader, Harriet "Hattie Mae" Cornwell, opened her home to not only travelers seeking accommodations during Jim Crow segregation, but also neighbors in need. In 1914, while Francis Butler, a postal clerk for the Atlantic Coastline Railway, was rebuilding his family's home (which had been destroyed in a fire earlier that year) at 1716 Wayne St., several family members stayed in the Cornwell residence.

National Preservation Month is just around the corner. (Seriously, though — it’s May and I’m not entirely sure how it got here so fast.) On behalf of your friendly neighborhood historians, I invite you to take a stroll through one of Cola’s many historic neighborhoods. Heck, grab a friend and a picnic basket and go enjoy the view from Finlay Park. #historyiscool

If you need me, I’ll be gnawing on the Lace House. See y’all in two weeks.

–Lois from Historic Columbia