THE WISDOM OF THE SWEET BASKET MAKERS
by Marlene Biondo

Locals often make this recommendation to newcomers, or visitors, "You'll have to make sure you get a sweet basket at the Charleston marketplace. They are beautifully made baskets, and this is the only place in the world you can find them." The first time I heard this, I wondered why anyone would say this to a complete stranger. I was a basket collector, most exclusively of the Longaberger line, but not everyone collects baskets. After studying the sweetgrass baskets, and experiencing many of these one of a kind hand made originals, I have a better understanding of why these baskets are the pride of South Carolina's Lowcountry.

Sweet grass baskets adorn places in homes where most people display fine art. As anyone from the Lowcountry knows, these baskets are treasured. Inquiries about basket purchases result in stories that are quite similar. The owner's eyes open wide, and an enthusiastic explanation follows. One particular basket sat center stage at the focal point of the home's foyer. Its 3" flat handle swept upward and twisted to the other side of the basket. The basket was tightly woven with no apparent flaws. It appeared in perfect condition. It was 3 years old, but had never been put to utilitarian purpose. It had been awarded the treatment of a priceless work of art. . .and that is exactly what it is. It was a special occasion and several years may have passed since the previous basket had been purchased. The collectible status of sweet grass baskets is legendary in the Lowcountry of South Carolina. These baskets are often found in historical museums, and art galleries alike, but these baskets aren't just objects d'art. They are also art history.

The techniques used to create sweetgrass baskets were first developed in West Africa. In the late 17th century, blacks were imported to the colonies as agricultural slave laborers, and this practice increased markedly throughout the next century, and into the l9th century as well. Native Africans were captured, chained, and sold in the colonies as if they were objects themselves. The slaves were fundamental to the economy and southern society. The cultural tradition of weaving sweetgrass baskets continued in the Lowcountry because of the ample supply of sweetgrass, bulrush and pine needles found in the marshlands and swamps. These weaving skills have been passed down from generation to generation.

The sweetgrass basket was a necessity on the plantation. The art of weaving baskets was occasionally passed down from father to son. Men often created the "fanner," or winnowing basket. The "fanner" was used to separate chaff from the rice on the rice plantations. As African slaves had worked in the same agricultural disciplines in Africa, the process of separating the chaff from the rice was familiar to them. Sweet grass baskets were used for other agricultural purposes including grain and cotton storage, and containers for fish and shell fish.

Women carried on the African tradition of handing down weaving skills from mother to daughter. These functional baskets were used primarily in the home. They were used for storing bread, fruits, sewing materials, clothes and miscellaneous items. Women sometimes used sweetgrass baskets as barter within their community. Plantation masters ordered baskets to be crafted for their homes, for their plantation owning friends, or to simply be sold for profit. The industrious sweetgrass basket makers were appreciated by the master, as the sweetgrass baskets were a source of pride of his plantation.

The sweetgrass basket carries a history much like those who created them. Slaves were fundamental to the success of the plantation system, and also to the development of southern society. This agricultural system began in the latter half of the 17th century and is responsible for the continuous importing of African slaves until the l9th century. When the l3th Amendment to the Constitution went into effect in l865, slavery was finally abolished. However, it still left some African-Americans confused and wandering. They had to rebuild their lives and their society without the plantation master's control. Some felt that they were better off with the master. Others forged a life for themselves and their families and were thankful for their freedom. With the emergence of building this new social structure, the tradition of the sweetgrass baskets was almost lost in the 20th century. Because African-American culture was unstable, so was the tradition of weaving sweetgrass baskets. In the l930's there was a renewed interest in the baskets and they were more often seen in gift shops, and museums. As African-American society was strengthened, so was the cultural tradition of weaving sweetgrass.

The history of the slave trade still reverberates on the walls of the Meeting Street Marketplace, where many locals insist that slaves were once sold. The Pinkney family gifted the marketplace to the city on one condition: that no slaves would be sold in there or the marketplace would return to Pinkney heirs. This continues to be a controversy as historians, city officials, and members of the Pinkney family substantiate or refute various positions on whether or not slaves were sold on the marketplace after the marketplace was gifted to the city. Of course, there are no more slaves sold at the marketplace today, but the ancestors of slaves still sell their sweetgrass baskets right there in the Meeting Street Marketplace. The ancestors of these weavers could have been sold to plantation owners in the marketplace where these sweetgrass basket makers sell their baskets.

In search of more information on the weaving of sweetgrass baskets, I walked through the Meeting Street Marketplace. I saw numerous African-American women, and one man weaving and selling sweetgrass baskets. When I requested an interview, many weavers shook their heads and would not utter a word. They looked downward at their baskets and continued weaving. A local historian explained that many of these women are from James Island, known as Gulla people. They have a unique language and style all their own. Apparently they believe that if they talk too much they will loose their spirit. Many tourists avoid Gulla vendors because their local dialect is difficult to decipher.

Some weavers refuse to talk to strangers because they are afraid of being audited by the I.R.S. Once a policeman stopped to talk to one of the basket makers, perhaps to request a city license, or a fee of some kind for the use of the market. The basket weaver seated opposite her looked the weaver right next to her out of the corner of her eye, and pointed her head in the direction of the policeman. Both were silent, but the policeman did not venture their way and they both smiled in silence as he walked away. Unfortunately there will be no interview with the Gulla women, who are considered among the best of the sweetbasket weavers.

Other fine basket weavers are from Mount Pleasant, near Charleston, where sweetgrass baskets were once sold at roadside basket stands. The photo to the left shows Vera Manigault of Mt. Pleasant, selling her wares at a local festival. The paving of Highway l7 North and the increased traffic with the Cooper River Bridge made it inconvenient to sell roadside. Coastal island development and that of the marshlands continues to be a boon to the real estate market, but has resulted in the decrease of natural growing sweetgrass available. Finding sweetgrass has become more difficult because of the rapid expansion in commercial and residential building.

As I continued to walk down the middle of the Meeting Street Marketplace, I met the wisdom of the sweet grass basket makers. This woman had white eyelashes and white hair with small streaks of black hair in between. She was weaving a small basket. She allowed me the pleasure of an interview.

This weaver will remain anonymous, as she requested. When I asked her how she learned this craft she said,"Oh, I was taught by my mother, and her mother taught her, and on and on like that." When I asked her if she had taught anyone else to make the sweetgrass baskets, she said, "Yes, but only my niece had the patience for it. You know, not everyone is suited to making sweet grass baskets. You have to have a lot of patience. I tried to teach my daughter, but she didn't take to it. Now, my niece took to it fine, and she can weave, but my daughter, no. Just didn't fit right with her." Her head shook back and forth like the Gulla women's had earlier.

When I asked this woman if she ever worked anywhere else in Charleston, she said, "Yes, I worked in the cigar factory down on Bay Street."

I asked her if she know that the cigar factory was now the home of Johnson & Wales University. She shook her head, indicating no. I explained that I had been there recently, and she added, "Why, I used to roll the small cigars on the 3rd floor. The women rolled small cigars on little machines, and the men rolled the larger ones. Then in the basement, " she recalled easily, "we laid out the tobacco leaves to dry out down there." She laughed enjoying the memory, "Sure, I used to be a cigar roller." She laughed again with miniature bursts of joy that made me enjoy her memory, too.

I asked her if she had heard any stories from her parents or grandparents about the civil war. She looked at me directly as if to say, 'Can I trust you?' She smiled and continued talking, "When the Yankees came it was not a good time. I know they was tryin' to be a help 'n all, free the slaves 'n everything, but my folks was scared. Then they was told, take the valuables and bury 'em underground." She sewed all the while she was talking. I noticed a change in dialect at this point, perhaps because this may have been the way it was repeated to her by her relatives. "Then when the Yankees finally come, they asks 'em--'Where's the loot?' And they said, 'I don't know.' And then not say a word. Just act dumb." Here she smiled at the trickery. "But my folks they knowed where 'twas. Just didn't tell them Yankees though." Here she loosed a hearty peal of laughter because of the game her people had played on the Yankees. She added, "I know they(the Yankees) didn't find it and some of it--well, some of it I'm shoore it still be in the ground after all a dem years just like dat. But they didn' find it and we didn' let go of where it was in the ground."

It seems that the relationship between master and slave may have been amiable on some plantations. Slaves were sometimes intensely loyal to their masters. However, the slaves must have also feared for their lives and the repercussions if they dealt favorably with the Yankees. The civil war was a time of unrest for the North, the South and the entire black community. As this basket maker created a new basket, she was weaving a part of history into the basket. This story remains a part of the sweetgrass basket as it remains with me.

The wisdom of the sweetgrass basket makers explained how the baskets are formed. The making of a sweetgrass basket is a process of collecting raw materials, and planning a design. The sweetgrass is found in marshes or swamp lands. James Island and Mount Pleasant are the two most visited areas for harvesting of sweetgrass.


Sweet grass baskets hang in the sunshine waiting for a new home at a local festival.

This tall thin grass(Muhlenbergia filipes) has the smell of sweet hay after it has been cut. Some sweetgrass basket makers insist on using only sweetgrass, because it is soft and easy to work with. Other sweetgrass basket makers feel that the addition of bulrush to the basket may make the core harder to manipulate, but the baskets using this material are much more sturdy. The bulrush also adds interest to the baskets as they are deep reddish-brown in color. An additional way of adding contrast to the soft beige sweetgrass basket is by using green sweetgrass. One buyer in the marketplace particularly liked the pattern of a green row and then a natural color. These variations add a unique quality to the art of basket weaving. The making of the basket can begin with pine needles for color variation in the center, or sweetgrass itself, and as the coil grows, its inner core is wrapped solidly with a smaller 'thread.' Palmetto leaves are split into 1/4" strips, and used to sew the bunched cylindrical forms of sweetgrass. The technique of coiling is an extremely tight method of weaving. This technique is also used by rag basket makers. A rigid core of sweetgrass is wrapped and stitched with the softer, more flexible palmetto leaf. Rows of the wrapped sweetgrass are stacked up against one another row after row after row, in a mesmerizing coiled pattern. Basket makers find this process relaxing and therapeutic, yet an entire family may be involved in collecting the sweetgrass, preparing the baskets for market, loading, unloading, displaying and selling the baskets.

Creative embellishments are a buyers delight. Pine needles are formed into ball shapes and woven into the coils. They appear on the outside of the basket like buttons in a straight row, equally spaced apart. Another unique decorative feature is the popcorn plant. Its pods are usually harvested in August. The popcorn plant seed pods look like small rounded kernels of popped corn. The small white balls are favorites of many collectors, and are often used to decorate basket handles or wreaths.

Tools needed for the construction of the baskets are a pair of scissors, and a spoon handle, with the spoon part cut off, and its end filed down to a soft flat edge. The scissors are used to cut the pine needles, trim the sweetgrass, or trim edges that fall out of the coils. Next the weaver wraps the palmetto strip, or 'thread' around the core of sweetgrass and then to the coil below it, thereby sewing the coils together.

The sweetgrass basket tradition brought to us by Africans will continue to flourish. The Historical Society of Charleston is establishing sweetgrass reserves on Sullivan's Island, as sweetgrass is increasingly hard to come by. The Historical Society of Charleston understands that these baskets aren't just ornamentation. They are a link to a cultural past. They represent a people's history, and the endurance of a tradition. Thanks to the Historical Society of Charleston, there will always be sweetgrass for the weavers of the Lowcountry, and there will always be sweetgrass baskets, thanks to the cultural traditions of the African-American community.

Occasionally traditions are controversial, like the Confederate Flag which presently still flies over the state capitol building in Columbia, South Carolina. Over a hundred years have passed since the end of the Civil War, but tradition is king in South Carolina. There comes a time when some traditions are best put aside, but some are meant to last forever, like the sweetgrass baskets of South Carolina's Lowcountry.

The heritage and strength of the African-American community can be compared to the sweetgrass basket. A basket begins with a small coil and grows outward until it has reached an exalted conclusion. This culture will continue to expand its creative energies and gift our nation and Charleston's Meeting Street Marketplace.

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