Blues, haints and bayous: snippets from the Deep South: Magnolia mansions

As the wealth from the cotton grew so did the city of Natchez. The cotton barons built fine homes for their pleasure, decorated them lavishly, and entertained prodigiously, utilising the skill of their house slaves to service their many homes, be they the town house, or plantation variety, effortlessly. Without them, this lifestyle, would not have been possible.

We took ourselves on a driving tour about the historic centre of Natchez visiting many of the grand homes. Downtown, there are pretty balconies here and a bit of decorative trim there: touches of the early French influence, still.

Rosalie, built by one of the cotton barons, looks quite peaceful perched on its green knoll above the Mississippi, but it was constructed over the ruined site of the old trading fort that the early French traders and settlers had the local Natchez Indians build for them under treaty; requiring them, also, to supply the materials for construction. Not a good move. Tensions kept erupting between the two parties, and the fort was eventually wiped out by the Natchez. The Natchez, then, were virtually wiped out by the French, their few remaining numbers disbanded, such that their tribe ceased to exist. Rosalie was subsequently built on such tenuous foundations, though it managed to survive the Civil War, and survives, still, today.

Stanton Hall, another extraordinary building, owes many of its bit parts to Europe. Architectural features like the marble fireplace mantles, the wall mouldings, the wrought ironwork and many of the furnishings came ordered especially from Europe by chartered boat. Even in those days. Not a penny spared in its construction. I wonder if the cotton broker owner was happy with his finished product. These days, this is the house that Disney used as the model for Disneyland’s Haunted Mansion. Scaring folk.

There are many, many others. Magnolia Hall among them. High above the Mississippi this property was right in the firing line when one of the Union gunboats, Essex, just down on the river, sent off a bombardment of shells attempting to quell the enemy. One of the shells propelled itself straight into Magnolia Hall’s kitchen, hitting a silver soup tureen. The house, though, was spared.

Natchez, though faded over time, has a touch of elegance about it still, particularly in its historic heart. The outskirts, even just a few blocks back from the centre, soon become ramshackled, sadly, like so many parts of Mississippi. Areas that once might have been charming, now need a lot of maintenance and a huge amount of money spent to make them even appealing.

That lacy mechano-like ironwork of the scalloped bridge that crosses the Mississippi from Natchez, though, is an unforgettable sight. Particularly at night. We ate dinner one evening watching the lights shimmer across the water. Simply beautiful.