A Very Brief History of Savannah

Written by Paul Holm. Graphics by Paul Holm.

In the dreadfully uncivilized year of 1733, James Edward Oglethorpe and 114 ragged, debt-ridden colonists washed up on the muddy banks of the Savannah River—more or less where the Hyatt Regency awkwardly squats today.

Surrounded by a dense cathedral of live oaks draped in Spanish moss, Oglethorpe and his band of misfits set out to build a colony more righteous than its rum-soaked, morally questionable neighbors to the north. Georgia, they declared, would be different: no slavery, no booze, religious freedom for all (well, most), and an almost laughably optimistic vision of equality.

Unlike most colonial land-grabs, the Georgians actually got along with the people who already lived there. The colony likely would’ve collapsed into the river mud within weeks if not for the wisdom and generosity of Chief Tomochichi of the Yamacraw, who chose diplomacy over war and helped the newcomers survive.

But utopias—especially ones founded by British idealists—have a tragically short shelf life. By 1754, the British Crown had taken control, and the dream of a noble, booze-free, slave-free Georgia quietly died under a pile of royal paperwork.

Eighteenth-century England, that cold and grasping little island, had a talent for exporting mercantilism, colonialism and slavery to every corner of the globe it could plant a flag in—and Georgia was no exception. By the late 1700s, Savannah had transformed into a booming plantation economy powered by enslaved labor, pumping out rice, indigo and cotton to fill British coffers.

So much for the utopia.

Savannah is a city of rich architectural beauty—so lovely, in fact, that in 1864, during the American Civil War, it escaped the devastating fiery fist of Union Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman. After famously burning Atlanta to the ground on his relentless march through the South, Sherman reached Savannah and spared it, declaring it far too beautiful to destroy. In a now-legendary gesture, he offered the city to President Abraham Lincoln—the most famous man to ever rock a top hat—as a Christmas present.

After the war, life slowed down—for a long while. Savannah slipped into a kind of sleepy, moss-draped decline, its once-bustling economy sinking into the swamps of time. But the city’s charm never truly faded. It waited—quietly, patiently—for its renaissance.

That rebirth came with the arrival of the Savannah College of Art and Design and a renewed focus on preservation, creativity and tourism. Artists, dreamers and history lovers breathed life back into the old buildings and squares, and Savannah once again became a city that people didn’t just pass through—but came to stay, to admire and to fall in love with.