Blues, haints and bayous: snippets from the Deep South: A garden of tale and fairytale

Around every nook and cranny in Savannah there lies a tale. It may be fact, it may be fiction. It matters not. Some thirteen million tourists visit Savannah Georgia, almost every year. And every year they spend in the vicinity of 2.4 billion dollars in this city alone. They love a good story. They started coming in droves after the 1994 book written by the New York writer, John Berendt's Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, and there is no lessening of the hoards this year.

Spring has arrived, the sun is shining, and there are tourists everywhere, like swarms of marsh midges along the waterfront, multiplying exponentially as each hour of the day unfolds. We are here, essentially, because Savannah lies on our route north. But, having done our research, we read ‘the book’ as Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil is called by the locals. And the sites mentioned in it are so vivid, the characters so arresting, that we are using them as our site detector, our sat nav, for much of our stay. We are going where much of the book action happened. Just for fun.

Each site seems loaded like a delicious mouse trap newly laden with fresh-smelling cheese. Very enticing. And many many tourists have trodden this ground before us. Even the cobbles down on the revamped historic front are deeply worn.

Bonaventure Cemetery is our first stop, for no reason other than a photograph of a statue that once stood in this cemetery was used as the book’s cover image. The statue came to be called ‘the Bird Girl’. People flocked to see it in droves. Fearful that she may be damaged or stolen the owners, who had the statue decorating their plot, moved it to the Telfair museum in the heart of downtown. Bonaventure has many other such tales to tantalise tourists.

It has been said that the earliest owners occupied a plantation on these grounds in the late 1700s, and used this cemetery as their family plot. They were entertaining guests at dinner one evening when a house servant leaned across to the master and informed him that a fire had started in the upper floors and that it might be wise to vacate the building as it could not be extinguished. It is said that the master did not hesitate. He asked all his guests to raise their glasses and their plates and follow him outdoors. He called for his house servants to move the tables and chairs outdoors and to serve the remainder of their repast on the lawns. They finished dining as they watched the house burn to ashes.

Another cemetery close by is the inspiration for the book's clever title. A voodoo priestess, Minerva, was regularly paid by Jim Williams, the main character in the tale, to cast spells so that his conviction for the murder of his young gay lover, Danny Hansford, would be overturned and he would be freed from jail. Minerva’s tale appears as a chapter in the book after she takes the author, John Berendt, on a research trip to visit that cemetery. At night. She informs him that the best time to invoke favours for good magic is the special half hour before midnight: the Good. Incantations for bad magic are best accomplished in the half hour after midnight: the Evil.

Bonaventure Cemetery, like many chapters in the book, is just a tit-bit. A bit of spice to illuminate a tale that had already been told in the newspapers. It is not even the cemetery where Jim Williams or Danny Hansford are actually buried. It is, however, a very evocative setting where small town tales can be told that might, or might not, lead to telling a little more about the town, a little more about its history, a little more about some of the more unusual folk who lived hereabouts, many of whom have little to do with the core of the actual story. But they do add atmosphere to the tale. And Bonaventure Cemetery oozes with that atmosphere.

It is eerie, mystical and beautiful. White marble angels and elaborate stone headstones are shrouded in soft grey-green Spanish moss that hangs thickly from overarching live oaks, like curtains: concealing here, revealing there.

In one reveal, is the grave of Conrad Aiken. When Conrad was two, his father, a distinguished Savannah brain surgeon shot his mother, then turned his weapon on himself, leaving young Conrad to be brought up, in another town, by an aunt. As an adult Conrad became a distinguished poet. He later returned to Savannah, and bought as his home the house right next door to where his family was destroyed. He frequently visited the gravesites of his parents, pondering the state of things. Worrying, too, whether he might end up like his father.

When he died he asked that a bench seat be erected on this plot in this cemetery. He inscribed it: Cosmic Mariner, Destination Unknown and Give my love to the world. The bench was for folk to sit, to rest awhile, to enjoy a martini if they so wished. Society ladies still do. As do fans of the book. They bring elaborate picnic packs of martinis and elegant glasses and occupy a seat next to Conrad. It has become quite a thing.

In another pretty spot in the cemetery is the grave of Johnny Mercer, the singer and lyricist, whose great grandfather built the house on Monterey Square where Jim Williams lived and worked. Neither Jim nor Danny were buried here, but Johnny Mercer is. He, too, has a bench seat, with a fine inscription of a simple line drawing of a portrait that he created of himself. And many of his songs are inscribed on the seat as a reminder. Including Moon River, for which the local Wilmington river was said to be the inspiration. But, that, too, is likely yet another tale in many of the stories told.

Before Jim Wilson shot Danny Hansford, Johnny Mercer was the biggest draw card in Savannah. Today his bronze statue decorates the heart of Ellis Square. On Sunday, when the hoards should have been in attendance at one of the 50 churches in the 6.5 miles radius from there, they are instead, making merry in downtown Savannah. The squares are thick with tourists and townies, walking, singing, dancing, playing rock music, riding streetcars, enjoying horse and buggy tours. Johnny is right in amongst them.