I've wanted to see the Windsor Ruins, near Port Gibson, Mississippi for a while now. Ever since I heard the story of how Mark Twain once climbed up on the roof of the massive house when he was a guest there to watch the traffic on the Mississippi River, I've wanted to see what remains of it.
It was built in 1860 and survived the Civil War having served as a hospital for soldiers on both sides at various points.
It survived in tact, only to be leveled by fire some thirty years later when a houseguest left his cigar burning on the third floor balcony. There are no photographs of the house but there is a sketch made by a Civil War soldier depicting its grand proportions.
The former sight of much activity, it is eerily quiet now there off the Natchez Trace among gnarled trees. The massive pillars that supported the five story house are some ornate railing are all that remain.
They stand like giants, there, in the thick woods. Around them, kudzu grows thick. The signs that give direction to them are simple. There is no visitors center or attendant or gatehouse. There is no charge to get in or guest book to sign. One just pulls onto a dirt road, turns a couple of corners and there they are; these beautiful massive pillars with Corinthian caps.
The house is said to have been one of the grandest in the South. The remains that give testament to its grandeur would bear that out.
I was not disappointed. My husband was likewise impressed and happy that we'd taken the back roads out of Natchez and up to Vicksburg.
It survived in tact, only to be leveled by fire some thirty years later when a houseguest left his cigar burning on the third floor balcony. There are no photographs of the house but there is a sketch made by a Civil War soldier depicting its grand proportions.
The former sight of much activity, it is eerily quiet now there off the Natchez Trace among gnarled trees. The massive pillars that supported the five story house are some ornate railing are all that remain.
They stand like giants, there, in the thick woods. Around them, kudzu grows thick. The signs that give direction to them are simple. There is no visitors center or attendant or gatehouse. There is no charge to get in or guest book to sign. One just pulls onto a dirt road, turns a couple of corners and there they are; these beautiful massive pillars with Corinthian caps.
The house is said to have been one of the grandest in the South. The remains that give testament to its grandeur would bear that out.
I was not disappointed. My husband was likewise impressed and happy that we'd taken the back roads out of Natchez and up to Vicksburg.
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