The Mann-Simons House: A Home for History
In Columbia, South Carolina, the restored Mann-Simons Site honors centuries of African-American life
Visitors tour the Mann-Simons Site
A Rare Home Casts a Powerful Spell
Today, the house and the land it sits on, or the Mann-Simons Site, are unique, says Robin Waites, executive director of Historic Columbia, which manages the property and which reopened it in 2016 after a yearlong reinvention of its exhibits. “It’s rare to find a property whose family story is so intact for so long,” she says. And not just any family story, but one that cuts to the heart of what the United States was, and what it is today.
The Beginnings
Visit the Mann-Simons house and you see a simple four-room cottage that incorporates generations of African-American history.
Records indicate that Mann was born into slavery in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1799. DeLane was born a slave in Charleston in 1800. In the 1830s, they moved to Columbia. By that time, DeLane was classified as a free African-American; he may have purchased his freedom using the income he earned as a boatman, transporting goods from Columbia to Charleston. But Mann remained a slave, possibly until 1850. How she obtained her freedom isn’t known.
In 1843, DeLane purchased property along Richland and Marion streets from James S. Guignard, a prominent Columbia lawyer. He and Mann built a house there. It survived the burning of Columbia by General Sherman’s Union troops in 1865 to become, in its small way, a harbinger of the new era of freedom Union victory was supposed to bring African-Americans.
Mann helped organize one of the first black churches in Columbia at the home — until that time, African-Americans had not been allowed their own churches — and religious services were held in the basement. By then, she was a prominent figure in Columbia — a midwife who attended the births of many Columbia children, both black and white.
A Rare Home Casts a Powerful Spell
Today, the house and the land it sits on, or the Mann-Simons Site, are unique, says Robin Waites, executive director of Historic Columbia, which manages the property and which reopened it in 2016 after a yearlong reinvention of its exhibits. “It’s rare to find a property whose family story is so intact for so long,” she says. And not just any family story, but one that cuts to the heart of what the United States was, and what it is today.
The Beginnings
Visit the Mann-Simons house and you see a simple four-room cottage that incorporates generations of African-American history.
Records indicate that Mann was born into slavery in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1799. DeLane was born a slave in Charleston in 1800. In the 1830s, they moved to Columbia. By that time, DeLane was classified as a free African-American; he may have purchased his freedom using the income he earned as a boatman, transporting goods from Columbia to Charleston. But Mann remained a slave, possibly until 1850. How she obtained her freedom isn’t known.
In 1843, DeLane purchased property along Richland and Marion streets from James S. Guignard, a prominent Columbia lawyer. He and Mann built a house there. It survived the burning of Columbia by General Sherman’s Union troops in 1865 to become, in its small way, a harbinger of the new era of freedom Union victory was supposed to bring African-Americans.
Mann helped organize one of the first black churches in Columbia at the home — until that time, African-Americans had not been allowed their own churches — and religious services were held in the basement. By then, she was a prominent figure in Columbia — a midwife who attended the births of many Columbia children, both black and white.
Agnes Jackson, Celia Mann’s youngest daughter
A Fresh Start
The Mann-Simons Site’s second chapter begins after Mann’s death in 1867. Some time in the 1870s, Jackson, her youngest daughter, and Jackson’s second husband, a well-known Columbia musician named Bill Simons, demolish the old family home and build the structure that stands on Richland Street today: a 1½-story cottage with a gabled roof and a front porch.
Jackson would live here for the next four decades, a period both of success and hardship for Columbia’s African-Americans. Increasingly harsh Jim Crow laws took away many of the rights they had gained during Reconstruction. But in many ways, Jackson and her family prospered. She worked steadily as a cook and a baker. The family derived income from the mix of rental homes and businesses they built alongside their house. Jackson had eight children; after her death in 1907, the house and property passed down to her eldest daughter, Hattie.
A Fresh Start
The Mann-Simons Site’s second chapter begins after Mann’s death in 1867. Some time in the 1870s, Jackson, her youngest daughter, and Jackson’s second husband, a well-known Columbia musician named Bill Simons, demolish the old family home and build the structure that stands on Richland Street today: a 1½-story cottage with a gabled roof and a front porch.
Jackson would live here for the next four decades, a period both of success and hardship for Columbia’s African-Americans. Increasingly harsh Jim Crow laws took away many of the rights they had gained during Reconstruction. But in many ways, Jackson and her family prospered. She worked steadily as a cook and a baker. The family derived income from the mix of rental homes and businesses they built alongside their house. Jackson had eight children; after her death in 1907, the house and property passed down to her eldest daughter, Hattie.
A Century of Success
By the start of the 20th century, the house was surrounded by other family-owned enterprises, including the rental homes and a lunch counter-grocery store. These businesses helped the family rise into the middle class.
Many of the family members became prominent in Columbia’s African-American community. Among them are the couple pictured above in the home’s parlor: Agnes’ son Charles Simons, a noted Freemason, and his wife, Amanda, a member of the Eastern Star. (Charles bought the house from his sister Hattie in 1908.) The house, too, benefited from the family’s prosperity and from 20th-century technology. By 1903, it had electricity; telephone service came in 1913.
By the start of the 20th century, the house was surrounded by other family-owned enterprises, including the rental homes and a lunch counter-grocery store. These businesses helped the family rise into the middle class.
Many of the family members became prominent in Columbia’s African-American community. Among them are the couple pictured above in the home’s parlor: Agnes’ son Charles Simons, a noted Freemason, and his wife, Amanda, a member of the Eastern Star. (Charles bought the house from his sister Hattie in 1908.) The house, too, benefited from the family’s prosperity and from 20th-century technology. By 1903, it had electricity; telephone service came in 1913.
The Mann-Simons house, circa 1977. The home’s early defenders included Celia Mann’s great-great-granddaughter, Robbie Atkinson, center, and future South Carolina Congressman James Clyburn, fourth from the right.
Threat and Rescue
The family owned the house and the property around it until 1970, when a local housing authority acquired it with plans for demolishing and replacing it with public housing. But — led by Robbie Atkinson, Mann’s great-great-granddaughter — African-American community groups protested the destruction of their history and won. “It was a real grass-roots effort,” says executive director Robin Waites. “Real engagement from African-Americans who remembered the story of Celia Mann.”
Threat and Rescue
The family owned the house and the property around it until 1970, when a local housing authority acquired it with plans for demolishing and replacing it with public housing. But — led by Robbie Atkinson, Mann’s great-great-granddaughter — African-American community groups protested the destruction of their history and won. “It was a real grass-roots effort,” says executive director Robin Waites. “Real engagement from African-Americans who remembered the story of Celia Mann.”
The Importance of History
Cleveland Smith, pictured in the foreground, is a school administrator in Richland County, South Carolina, and Mann’s great-great-great grandson. He can still remember as a young child in the 1970s being unhappy at the news that the family home might be demolished as part of an urban renewal project. “I told my mother, ‘I want to buy it.’ She said, ‘You don’t have any money — you can’t buy anything.’” Today, Smith believes that the home’s preservation and recent restoration make Columbia a better place to live.
“History is important,” Smith says. “If you don’t know where you’ve come from, you don’t know where you’re going.” Or as another of Mann’s descendants, Celia Smith (Mann’s great-great-great-great-granddaughter), put it, “If you come to this house, you can see everything my ancestors did … for their community, for everyone that was around them.”
Cleveland Smith, pictured in the foreground, is a school administrator in Richland County, South Carolina, and Mann’s great-great-great grandson. He can still remember as a young child in the 1970s being unhappy at the news that the family home might be demolished as part of an urban renewal project. “I told my mother, ‘I want to buy it.’ She said, ‘You don’t have any money — you can’t buy anything.’” Today, Smith believes that the home’s preservation and recent restoration make Columbia a better place to live.
“History is important,” Smith says. “If you don’t know where you’ve come from, you don’t know where you’re going.” Or as another of Mann’s descendants, Celia Smith (Mann’s great-great-great-great-granddaughter), put it, “If you come to this house, you can see everything my ancestors did … for their community, for everyone that was around them.”
Buried Treasures
In 2016, the Mann-Simons Site reopened with new exhibits after a year’s renovation. Many of the displays centered on information gathered during a multiyear archaeological dig on the property. “It yielded an extraordinary amount of information,” says executive director Waites. “We really wanted to incorporate what we found on the tour.”
Many of the 60,000 unearthed artifacts had been tossed into an informal garbage dump after the family lunch counter burned in 1908. Because the lunch counter doubled as a corner store, the trove included items like McCormick spices, and also medicines and cosmetics.
Still other artifacts may have belonged to family members. One story they tell is the way African-Americans’ consumer choices expanded in the age of mail-order catalogs. “Once goods were available by mail,” Waites says, “African-Americans didn’t have to deal with the lack of access to stores that only served whites.”
Among the excavated items from the historic Columbia collection, shown here:
A floral pitcher with gilding. Archaeologists found a large amount of ceramics during excavations. Fragments that date to Jackson’s lifetime indicate she preferred floral-patterned items.
Porcelain doll leg and hands, 1870-1909. The presence of high heels on this doll’s legs indicates that this toy was manufactured after 1865. Typically, only the porcelain pieces — the head, arms and legs — of a doll survived because they were more durable than its cloth body.
Rubber ball circa 1870. Many children’s toys uncovered at this site date to when Jackson raised her large family here. Made to look like a billiard ball, this toy was one of the countless mass-produced goods manufactured during the post-Civil War industrial revolution.
Cast lead carousel horse and marbles, 1870-1909. More toys dating to Jackson’s era include marbles, made both locally and in Germany, and a figurine that likely came from a children’s music box.
Incandescent light bulb, circa 1900. Remnants of various types of electrical sockets, wiring, ceramic insulators and this bulb prove that the property had modern lighting while Jackson lived here.
In 2016, the Mann-Simons Site reopened with new exhibits after a year’s renovation. Many of the displays centered on information gathered during a multiyear archaeological dig on the property. “It yielded an extraordinary amount of information,” says executive director Waites. “We really wanted to incorporate what we found on the tour.”
Many of the 60,000 unearthed artifacts had been tossed into an informal garbage dump after the family lunch counter burned in 1908. Because the lunch counter doubled as a corner store, the trove included items like McCormick spices, and also medicines and cosmetics.
Still other artifacts may have belonged to family members. One story they tell is the way African-Americans’ consumer choices expanded in the age of mail-order catalogs. “Once goods were available by mail,” Waites says, “African-Americans didn’t have to deal with the lack of access to stores that only served whites.”
Among the excavated items from the historic Columbia collection, shown here:
A floral pitcher with gilding. Archaeologists found a large amount of ceramics during excavations. Fragments that date to Jackson’s lifetime indicate she preferred floral-patterned items.
Porcelain doll leg and hands, 1870-1909. The presence of high heels on this doll’s legs indicates that this toy was manufactured after 1865. Typically, only the porcelain pieces — the head, arms and legs — of a doll survived because they were more durable than its cloth body.
Rubber ball circa 1870. Many children’s toys uncovered at this site date to when Jackson raised her large family here. Made to look like a billiard ball, this toy was one of the countless mass-produced goods manufactured during the post-Civil War industrial revolution.
Cast lead carousel horse and marbles, 1870-1909. More toys dating to Jackson’s era include marbles, made both locally and in Germany, and a figurine that likely came from a children’s music box.
Incandescent light bulb, circa 1900. Remnants of various types of electrical sockets, wiring, ceramic insulators and this bulb prove that the property had modern lighting while Jackson lived here.
Ghosts of the Past
Archaeologists also found the remnants of buildings that had been demolished over the years: the vanished lunch counter, the houses. These are now memorialized by steel-frame “ghost buildings” (like this one representing one of the family’s rental properties), elegantly spare reminders of a rich heritage.
Archaeologists also found the remnants of buildings that had been demolished over the years: the vanished lunch counter, the houses. These are now memorialized by steel-frame “ghost buildings” (like this one representing one of the family’s rental properties), elegantly spare reminders of a rich heritage.
Visiting the Mann-Simons Site
Guided tours of the Mann-Simons Site are offered Tuesdays through Sundays. They depart from the gift shop at the nearby Robert Mills House and Gardens at 1616 Blanding St.
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Guided tours of the Mann-Simons Site are offered Tuesdays through Sundays. They depart from the gift shop at the nearby Robert Mills House and Gardens at 1616 Blanding St.
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Madam C.J. Walker’s Villa Lewaro: A Beacon for Women
The Father of the U.S. National Parks Lived Here
A Home for a Hero
More historic homes
The story of this homesite begins long ago. It is the 1840s, in South Carolina’s capital, Columbia. There is a woman, Celia Mann, and her husband, Ben DeLane. They are African-American. They do something almost unheard of for African-Americans in the pre-Civil War South. They purchase property, only a few blocks from the center of Columbia, and build a house.
Thirty years later, a second house, shown here, is built over the first. It is built by Celia Mann’s daughter, Agnes Jackson, and her husband, Bill Simons. The descendants of Mann and Jackson will live here for more than 125 years: through post-Civil War Reconstruction, through the Jim Crow years of segregation and discrimination, through world wars and depressions, and eventually through the civil rights era and the Space Age.