Longwood

A journey to Natchez is a must for anyone who loves architecture.  The grandeur and excess invested in pre-Civil War town houses and plantations is something to behold.  To their credit, the locals have continued to embrace these historical monuments and work tirelessly at their preservation.

Whilst every house’s construction is testament to the decadence of its owners, none is more impressive than Longwood.  Barely five minutes from town, the five storey, octagonal mansion sits atop a gentle rise.  A slow journey along the winding, gravel drive through manicured lawns and ancient trees dripping heavy with Spanish moss, leads you to its doors.  Its countenance is noble.

The bottom floor is mostly subterranean, cut into the hill for engineering reasons.  It is pleasant but cool here, protected from the extremes of Mississippi weather.  Magnificent, hand-turned furniture is liberally littered throughout.  The portraits that hang from carefully maintained, rendered walls are the legacy of its original inhabitants.

But while this floor is finished, Longwood is not whole.  As you climb the stairs from lowest level to ground, the walls give way to exposed brick.  Polished silver and antique linen cedes to scattered lumber and inches of dust.  It is almost painful to look up and see the skeleton of a home this size. Frigid gusts rip through window cavities facing the river, adding to the sense of abandonment here.

Construction had begun prior to the Civil War, but the conflict and then lack of finances, prevented its completion.  When bequeathed to the Historical Society after decades of further neglect, those descendants of its original owners insisted that it never be finished.  Despite the temptation, these wishes have been honoured, and the house stands the same way it did in 1862.

I find it extraordinary that a house so naked, could still have so much to tell.  I could sit and listen to its wisdom for hours.