SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 2020
On Saturday morning my first target was Natchez State Park. The park is located at 40 Wickcliff Road on Hwy. 61 North, just 10 miles north historic Natchez. It’ a standard park with amenities that include cabins, boat launching, fishing, hiking/nature trail, picnic area/shelter, and so on. Natchez State Park is also famous in its own right. Apparently, the largest bass in Mississippi history, a largemouth weighing 18.15 pounds, was caught in Natchez lake at this park in 1992. It’s an understated sort of place. But the park is well-kept, clean, and a perfect spot for being alone with nature. I was the only human at the park – except for the park ranger, who I envied at that moment – in the office there. The buildings and other structures looked practically new, and everything – including the restrooms – was absolutely pristine.
The morning started out pretty cloudy and cool, which is reflected in my images from the park – but the place was still quite beautiful and had a pastoral quality that made me want to linger. The backroads leading into and out of the park were dotted with several old, derelict buildings – just the kind of thing I can’t resist photographing – and so photograph them I did.
One other rather odd element about this place. That morning the place was almost over-run by huge, black birds. I’d guess their wingspans reached 4 feet in many cases, and I estimate there were over a hundred of them along the shoreline around park headquarters. When I asked the park ranger what they were, he said: “Oh, those are just buzzards. They come and they go, but I guess there are more of ‘em out there than usual today.” The way he said it clearly implied that everybody should know what buzzards are, and he was surprised that I’d be surprised. But I was. Beautiful as the park was, the water was the color of mud, reminding me of the Mississippi River; “Big Muddy.” It certainly would have been prettier with nice, clear water, but such is the turgid nature of rivers in flood-prone areas.
Leaving Natchez State Park, the sky was clearing as I headed north toward Emerald Mound. Designated a National Historic Landmark, Emerald is one of the largest Indian burial mounds in North America. It covers eight acres, measuring 770 by 435 feet at the base and it is 35 feet high. Two smaller mounds sit on top of the summit of the primary mound. Several additional smaller mounds that were once located along the edges of the primary mound summit were destroyed by plowing and erosion back in the 19th century.
Anthropologists believe this site was built by ancestors of the Natchez Indians and used between 1250 and 1600 A.D. as a ceremonial center for the local population, which resided in outlying villages. Like the state park, I found Emerald Mound devoid of people even at my 10am arrival. A couple of others showed up by the time I left about an hour later. It was warming up nicely in the newly emerged sunshine as I headed out again, continuing north up toward Mount Locust.
Mount Locust Inn & Plantation is one of the oldest structures in the area. Built in 1780 the original structure is now the only remaining example of the inns constructed every 1-day-walk’s distance along the Trace heading northeast out of Natchez. By 1785 a steady stream of “Kaintucks” (rustic natives / residents of Kentucky in the 18th century) were shipping goods down the Mississippi River to markets in Natchez and New Orleans. (Fulton’s steam powered watercraft hadn’t been invented yet; that happened in 1807. So, unable to return their powerless flatboats back up the river, they sold their boats for lumber. As a result, a lot of the buildings still standing from that period are constructed of barge wood.) The stevedores then walked back to their homes hundreds of miles to the north. This return route became known as the Natchez Trace. With the growing foot traffic on the Trace, William and Paulina Ferguson, who had picked up the property after the original owner was jailed, turned their farmhouse into an inn.
According to National Park Service publications: “for 25 cents travelers could have a meal of corn mush and milk, and a cozy place to spend the night. Despite losing both husbands, Paulina was able to raise her eleven children plus run a successful inn. As the stream of “Kaintucks” quickened, a four-room two story annex was built for more accommodations. Known as Sleepy Hollow, the Mount Locust Inn was one of more than 40 inns along the 500 mile Trace. About a day’s journey on foot from Natchez, the inn is one of the oldest remaining structures on the Trace. Marrying James Chamberlain in the early 1800s, Paulina Chamberlain’s descendants maintained the farm until 1944. In 1954 the National Park Service returned the home to its 1810s appearance.”
When I visited, I found a very nice couple in charge of the site. They welcomed my visit, gave me permission to shoot photos anywhere on the property, and provided me with answers to all my questions. Like the State Park, the site was very clean and well maintained. It’s a beautiful rolling area covered with mature trees and set well back from the highway. The buildings are appointed with period-authentic furnishings ranging from normal furniture in the bedrooms and kitchen to grape arbors and soap making equipment on the grounds.
A short walk from the house leads to a slave cemetery, a brick kiln site, and the Ferguson-Chamberlain Cemetery. And – like the State Park – it proved to be a great place to be alone with nature. The rocking chair on the front porch of the Inn looked mighty inviting to me. Only the Natchez Cemetery tops this site on my list of must-see attractions in the Natchez area.
After wandering around, enjoying nature and the period displays at Mount Locust, I pushed on again toward Windsor Ruins. Windsor Ruins are in Claiborn County about 10 miles southwest of Port Gibson near Alcorn State University. Originally, Windsor mansion was located on a 2,600-acre plantation. It was built for Smith Coffee Daniell, a wealthy cotton planter. Once the American Civil War began in 1861, Confederate forces used the Windsor mansion cupola as an observation platform and signal station. Windsor mansion survived the war and continued to be used as a home and for social events. In 1974, the 2.1 acres containing the mansion ruins was donated to the state of Mississippi. It is administered by the Mississippi Department of Archives and History. Today the ruins are comprised of 23 erect Corinthian columns; the remains of the largest antebellum Greek Revival mansion ever built in the state. The mansion was built in 1861 and was destroyed by fire in 1890. The site was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1971 and was designated a Mississippi Landmark in 1985. The Windsor ruins have reportedly appeared in two motion pictures—Raintree County (1957) and Ghosts of Mississippi (1996). It’s an interesting place. These days it is surrounded by a nice, new-looking chain-link fence about 5 feet high – no doubt in place to reduce any potential liability from injuries sustained from the crumbling structures. But there was a large opening in the fence at the rear of the property that permitted easy ingress.
While I was at Windsor Ruins, another tourist told me he was on his way home from Vicksburg when he stopped at the site. He recommended it to me, and reported on a couple of the most prominent features of the city. At that point, the skies had cleared, and the sun had turned it into a gorgeous day. So as soon as I finished up at Windsor Ruins, I jumped back in the truck, switched over to one of my favorite music stations (The Bridge) on Sirius XM, and headed for Vicksburg.
Entering the Vicksburg area, I came across a beautiful new visitors’ welcome center (52 Old Highway 27) on a high bluff overlooking the impressive bridges that cross the mighty Mississippi. It was a bright sunny afternoon at that point, with gorgeous cumulus clouds dancing like beach balls bobbing in a shallow blue surf. The view from the visitor’s center was stunning. And as I watched the bridges, it became clear to me that both automobiles and trains used them as a locomotive edged out from beneath the bluff, and began to cross the river below me. My 3-year-old grandson is a huge fan of all things train related, and I was able to get about 20 seconds of video for him, which I immediately forwarded by text message to his mom. It made me smile when my daughter responded: “Liam’s going to love this!”
The folks inside the center provided me with a map of the local area, and showed me how to get into town. Approaching the city, I stopped at a gas station to refuel. I think it was a Shell station – one of those stations with a minimart attached, and I went in to buy a couple of fresh bananas for lunch. While I was paying for them, I asked the young woman behind the counter if she could tell me where to find the battlefield. (Vicksburg battlefield is huge – one of the largest combination battlefield and cemeteries in the country, and quite well known.) She had clearly never heard of it. “Do you mean the beauty store?” she asked. “No,” I replied. “The Civil War battlefield. “Oh,” she said, “you’re looking for the jewelry store.” She was quite serious – she had no idea what the battlefield was, and I’m not sure, based on her vacuous expression, that she even knew what the Civil War was. I politely thanked her and returned to the truck with my lunch. It was a pretty amazing encounter.
To say that Vicksburg is a historic American city would be to understate the matter considerably. It was described by Abraham Lincoln as the “key to the South,” and when this key riverport finally fell to Grant’s Union forces after a long and bloody siege on July 4, 1863, the Confederacy lost their last chance to control the Mississippi River. Originally built by French colonists in 1719, it was incorporated as Vicksburg in 1825 after Methodist missionary Newitt Vick. It stands on a high bluff along the east bank of the Mississippi River across from Louisiana, but it’s actually at the confluence of the Mississippi and Yazoo Rivers. In the American Civil War, it was a key Confederate river-port, and its surrender to Ulysses S. Grant in July 1863 marked the turning-point of the war. Vicksburg has a troubled history of racial conflict, which stretched well into the 20th century.
Vicksburg is home to three large installations of the US Army Corps of Engineers, which remain a long-standing bulwark against ravenous flooding in that area of the country. It’s been reported that the city has a total area of 35.3 square miles, of which 32.9 square miles are land and 2.4 square miles (6.78%) are covered by water. Vicksburg is home to the McRaven House, said to be “one of the most haunted houses in Mississippi,” the Old Courthouse (a truly marvelous museum dedicated to the Civil War), and of course the Vicksburg National Military Park and Vicksburg National Cemetery.
The city itself seems heavily reliant these days on tourism. It contains dozens of museums (including the Biedenharn Coca-Cola Museum), historical military exhibits, and – of course – riverboat / riverside casinos. Perhaps one of the most unique elements of the city is the set of 32 life-like pictorial murals by Robert Dafford depicting local history along the flood wall on Levee Street.
I walked the streets of Vicksburg a while, and ended up at the Old Courthouse where I had a very nice conversation with the caretaker who handles admission at the door, and tells the story of the museum. I also met Ashley, one of the two cats who lives at the courthouse, and likes to greet visitors.
For Civil War buffs (you know who you are), the Old Courthouse would keep you enthralled for hours. For me, it was a bit overwhelming. But going to Vicksburg without seeing this place would be a real shame.
From the Old Courthouse I pressed on, driving along a small portion of the Vicksburg National Cemetery until I arrived at the Vicksburg National Military Park. It took my breath away. The park is a perfectly manicured display of the exact positions and events that comprised the siege of Vicksburg. Every significant military emplacement and event in the 47-day siege is marked by signage and statuary, with more than 1,300 monuments in place today across nearly 3 square miles.
The tallest of these, the Navy Memorial, is over 200 feet tall. Each battle point is marked with a monument reflecting who fought there, and what the casualties were. How many killed, how many wounded, and how many missing. Mile after mile after mile of them, winding through the park. The cumulative numbers were staggering. I drove around the self-guided tour route and – with frequent stops for photos – it took me nearly two hours. An absolutely amazing place. How in the world they keep it so pristine is beyond me – it must require a veritable army of maintenance folks – but somehow they manage, because it is spectacular.
Winding up my time at the military park, I needed a rest. So, I stopped into the local burger joint for a sandwich and ate as I drove, heading out of Vicksburg and back in the direction of Natchez. On the way back, though, I stopped off at Port Gibson.
It was about 4:30pm when I arrived at Port Gibson. I had heard from my fellow traveler at Windsor Ruins that the old courthouse there was an interesting structure which might lend itself to a photograph or two, so that’s where I focused my attention.
Port Gibson is a comparatively small city these days, with a population of 1,600 people. It’s the county seat of Claiborne County, which is bordered on the west by the Mississippi River. The Claiborne County Courthouse in Port Gibson was my photographic target.
Port Gibson was chartered as a town in 1803 after the United States acquired the territory in the Louisiana Purchase from France. To develop cotton plantations in the area after Indian Removal of the 1830s, planters in the state imported thousands of African-American slaves from the Upper South. The county had a black majority established well before the Civil War, and they were overwhelmingly slaves. The town also saw action during the Civil War, and has several historical sites listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
In the 20th century, Port Gibson played a substantial role in the development of blues music in Mississippi, including taverns and juke joints now included on the Mississippi Blues Trail. With the decline in agriculture and lack of other jobs, the city and rural county have suffered from reduced population and poverty. (See my photos of miscellaneous buildings.) The peak of population in the city was in 1950. The courthouse was interesting, but like so much of this part of the country, it’s engulfed in the sense of a place whose best days are far behind, and disappearing from view. Looking at it today, it’s hard to imagine that even the heydays of the 1950s were all that great.
When I arrived back in Natchez, I found that I had some time remaining before the “ghost tour” I had scheduled for myself downtown. I decided to return to one of the stops from my earlier tour of the city, to photograph the home and neighborhood of one of the area’s most notable – and notorious – figures: Nellie Jackson.
Natchez is a town known for its antebellum splendor, with numerous mansions serving as reminders of the days when cotton was king and wealthy plantation owners built homes that reflect their status.
But the river town also had another side. Founded in 1716 and pre-dating New Orleans, the settlement had a rough and tumble element that included gambling, whiskey, and women. According to the Clarion Ledger, a “part of that history continued until 1990 in a little brothel known as Nellie’s. ‘Everyone knew about it.’ Nellie’s was not a secret in Natchez. “Natchez has always been a wide-open town,” said Tony Byrne. “It’s a river town. “We had whiskey when Mississippi was dry. It was very liberal. It’s still very liberal.” An African-American born in 1902, it is said Nellie Jackson moved from Possum Corner to Natchez in 1930. There she established a brothel that became known as Nellie’s. The business thrived and operated in plain sight for the next 60 years. “Everybody knew about it,” said Byrne, a life-long Natchez resident who served as mayor from 1968 until 1988. Byrne said he was friends with Jackson. “We talked about it. She was in operation before I was born. We just kind of grew up with it.” Byrne’s family owned a store called H. F. Byrne, a place where Jackson shopped and where she took women working for her to shop. “It was the largest department store during its day,” Byrne said. “When some of the girls came in, she would take them shopping at three or four places to let (people) know she had new girls in. She had a steady stream of professionals. Jackson was very free with her money when it came to charities.” (Natchez, Mississippi: Nellie Jackson ran a brothel until 1990 (clarionledger.com)
She also acted as an informant for the FBI on civil rights cases against the Ku Klux Klan. Nellie, one of her girls, and her assailant were all killed on July 5, 1990 when Nellie was 87 years old.
While I was photographing the Natchez Cemetery the previous day, I was greeted by a woman who was tidying up there in preparation for a couple of upcoming funerals. The lady was very kind, and our conversation turned at one point to the legend of Nellie Jackson. She alerted me that there are film documentaries available about Nellie, and they’ve been aired on Netflix. There are also trailers and excerpts available on YouTube. “I knew Nellie,” the woman confided. Evidently, this lady – now a retired social worker – called Jackson or one of her compatriots when she came across a special needs case; a woman who was down on her luck, end – especially when it was no fault of the victim – Nellie would assist (always anonymously) with food, medicine, or whatever was required. Not exactly a typical story, I think, and quite fascinating. The woman was murdered at the age of 87 in 1990. Her story can be viewed on the Ledger’s site at https://www.clarionledger.com/story/magnolia/2019/11/13/natchez-mississippi-brothel-owner-nellie-jackson-mississippi-madam/4164682002/. The house, and the boarding house behind it where her employees lived, still remain on Ranken street. They’re unoccupied now, and although it’s quiet, that part of Natchez has seen much better days.
From Nellie’s it was time to head downtown. I wasn’t sure where exactly I was going to meet my Ghost Tour guide, and wanted to give myself time for one decent meal before taking on the haunted city.
As it turned out, I found a nice little spot on Pearl Street downtown just a block or so from our starting point on the ghost tour. The food was good, though I undoubtedly had the worst table in the place (I was solo, and had no reservation so I didn’t complain) right outside the door of the kitchen. And I emerged just in time to relocate my Honda and meet my guide. The young man who met me was nice enough. Not a local, though, and so not as conversant in local lore as I’d hoped. He seemed to me to be a fan of the Ghostbuster movie franchise, and came replete with his own hand-held electro-magnetic field (EMF) detector. Oh boy. Yes, the whole thing was pretty cheesy, but harmless enough, and I did get to see the inside of the cell block in the old jail – including the mechanism and trap door used to hang condemned prisoners back in the day. The trap door is welded shut now, but still… that was the most unsettling part of the tour.
The most interesting part of the ghost tour, I thought, was King’s Tavern. It’s not surprising that the oldest building in the Natchez area is reputed to be haunted. It’s been standing, since the 1760s, when its walls were constructed from the beams of scrapped sailing ships and barge wood from flat river boats. Originally, it was a block house for nearby Fort Panmure. Then in 1789, a man by the name of Richard King opened a tavern and an inn in the building. It operated as a stage stop, a mail station, and a tavern for many years. King sold the building around 1817, and it became a private residence. As the story was related to me during both my city tour and ghost tour, Mr. King had an affair with a young waitress at the tavern, who later disappeared without a trace. Nothing more was heard from – or about – her for decades. Then, in the 1970s, the building was purchased and restored by the Natchez Pilgrimage Garden Club. It later became a restaurant. And in 2013, chef Regina Charboneau and her husband, Doug, bought the building, added a wood-burning oven, and created a menu of small-batch liquors, craft cocktails, and wood-fired flatbreads. Both of my tour guides insist that when the original masonry from the fireplace was removed, the waitress’ skeleton was found with a King family dagger embedded in the rib cage. As the story goes, King’s wife stabbed Madeline to death after learning of their affair. And now, centuries later, among the original architectural elements and antique furniture decorating King’s Tavern, the ghost of a tavern waitress and Richard King’s mistress, Madeline, is said to still walk the halls. Other ghostly events have been reported in the building throughout the years: sounds of a baby crying in an empty room, mysterious images appearing in mirrors, customers reporting an unseen force pushing them or pulling their hair.
All in all, great fodder for a Halloween movie! When the ghost tour ended, it was approaching 10pm and I decided to call it a day.