A return to Centre Market

Editor's note: Second in a series on the 200th anniversary of the City Market.

The sound of a bell at sunrise Aug. 1, 1807, marked the dawning of a new era in the life of Charlestonians when their new Centre Market opened, placing the city's specialty markets in one location.

Nearly 20 years passed between the day six public-minded Charlestonians donated their property to build the market and the day it opened. Some of those years were spent transforming an existing canal into Market Street. Some were spent constructing the six market buildings.

Clues to why it took two decades for the market to become a reality are in papers that were moved to the old orphan house for safekeeping during the Civil War. They were not among the city papers found when the building was torn down in 1952.

During the intervening years, the Holy City's population exploded from 16,500 to 25,000, and the market was a place where most of them could exchange pleasantries and the news of the day, as well as buy food from a bountiful selection.

In the first three years after its inception, those who strolled through the market probably entered it at Market and Meeting streets and walked east. It would be 1810 before a five-foot-deep remnant of the old canal, at the Market and East Bay streets entrance, was filled as part of a project that covered up Governor's Bridge.

One observer described that entrance near where Market Hall would be situated in later years in a Charleston Courier article: "To the left and right of the entrance, country wagons loaded down with ruddy-looking local peaches were lined up in an orderly fashion. Old black women sat selling their homemade gingerbread. So many things attracted the observer's attention that he could not keep his eye on any of them for very long."

The first building housed the beef market, where butchers were required by an ordinance governing the market to wear clean aprons made of white linen or cotton or of onasburg, a light tan-colored fabric typically worn by slaves. The market commissioners, a group of city council members, met and held their annual dinners in the cupola above the building's conical roof.

From there, visitors stepped down to the first of two consecutive fruit and vegetable market buildings. While chickens also were sold in the fruit and vegetable markets, the beef market was raised higher as a tribute to animal life. The two fruit and vegetable market buildings contained 142 stalls. Market patrons could buy 100 oranges from Florida or the West Indies for $1.

Customers bought pork, lamb, sheep and goat meat in the next building. Locally grown provisions from barrier island plantations, brought in by water, were sold in the building after that one. Fish was sold in a market building on the Cooper River, directly across East Bay. The area where Concord Street is today was still part of the waterway.

In the early days of the market, vendors rented their 12-by-12 stalls for $4 a month, about $70 in today's prices. Those who had not paid by the fifth of the month answered to the market clerk, who had the authority to seize their goods. Regular vegetable sellers paid 25 cents a week in advance for their stands and occasional sellers, 12.5 cents a week.

Rents and other market rules were set in an ordinance passed by the city council three months before the market opened.

Stiff penalties were paid by anyone who sold meat, vegetables and other food outside of the market. Whites and free blacks were fined $20; slaves were put in the market's stocks for an hour and given 10 to 20 lashes by the market clerk unless their owners paid $20 by the close of business.

It was not unusual for slave owners to give their slaves tickets or permission slips that allowed them to be market vendors. Slaves, especially women, made up the majority of sellers in the market.

Constables, marshals and sheriffs who witnessed any blacks selling outside the market but failed to seize their stock and deliver it to the poor house or orphan house were fined $500 under the ordinance. Members of the city guard, a paramilitary group, who failed to seize the stock would be dismissed.

Twenty years after the market opened, provisions against selling outside of the market would loosen. Anyone could cry the sale of butter, chicken, grain, fish, milk and other provisions on the streets. Fish criers first had to pay a market fee.

From the beginning, the city's ordinances also offered a consumer health and fraud protections.

Lack of refrigeration was no excuse for selling spoiled meat or stale produce. Vendors could not bring meats, roots or vegetables into the market to sell more than once. If two market commissioners concluded that those foods were spoiled or stale, they were authorized to burn or destroy it.

In addition, only scales and measures certified to be accurate by the market clerk could be used by vendors. Shoppers who suspected that their purchases were too light or too short could complain to the clerk. Cheaters would be subject to the same penalties as those found selling outside the market.

From the early 19th century to the early 20th century, several writers visiting the market left with the impression that it was among the best in the country — a lively place filled with unique sights and sounds, from women speaking Gullah dialect they couldn't understand to turkey buzzards they mistakenly said were protected by ordinance.

Things would change soon afterward.

Nic Butler, special collections manager, Charleston County Public Library, contributed to the research for this story.

Reach Wevonneda Minis at wminis@postandcourier.com or 937-5705.