About 15 years ago while living in Vicksburg MS, my wife and I developed a keen interest in the Civil War history of the area. The area had a Civil War Cemetery and many homes listed on the National Register of Historical Places. The flavor of 1860 was everywhere. The loss of Vicksburg to the Union Army within 1 day of the South's loss at Gettysburg was not viewed favorably even in the 1990's. The War was not over in this part of the South! This community did not celebrate Memorial Day as that day was set aside to honor the Yankee dead and decorate their graves. Front license plates on autos spoke the sentiments clearly: "Forget Hell!" Grant's siege on Vicksburg was specifically brutal and cruel. The Southern Army had dug in, and Grant's troops were forced to shut down Vicksburg's supply routes and starve out the troops along with the collateral population.
We thoroughly enjoyed visiting the historical sites along the river. Hundreds of antebellum and plantation homes remained intact and had been refurbished. Many were in commercial use for bed & breakfast lodging. Some had furniture and accessories that were "original to the house" although most were dressed with antiques from auctions and estate sales. The Springfield Plantation pictured here was in the later category.
Springfield was purchased in the early 1980's for it's history & potential by Alfred LaSalle with the intention of restoring and operating it as an antebellum home/museum/B&B along the route from Vicksburg to Natchez. This home had a unique history. Springfield was the site of one of the marriages of the 7th President of the United States, Andrew Jackson (commonly known as "Old Hickory"), and part of a "love scandal" in which Jackson had been involved.
There were no neighbors close by, the nearest almost a mile away. Mr LaSalle lived in the attic of the home on and off for the 20+ years he had owned it, and virtually all of the restoration work was his and his alone. He, like other owner and tour operators of old homes had his share of stories about footstep in the night and furniture moving around the home, but after a few "tours" of similar properties, the stories become little more than stories without the benefit of a 1st hand experience. And so it was for Springfield Plantation.
I listened to Mr LaSalle's explanation of the house and it's history as we toured the rooms on the 1st floor, but as the tour was headed for the long stairway to the 2nd floor, I opted to sit that out. The front porch wad a number of wooden rockers for waiting tours, and we were the only tourists. It was a very mild day with a nice breeze blowing across the front porch. I found a suitable rocker in the shade of the afternoon sun, and sat down with a fresh load of tobacco in my pipe.
It was very quiet on the porch with just the sound of the breeze rattling a leaf or 2 on the trees, and the sounds of nature from the hundreds of open acres that surrounded the plantation. Just the occasional sound of the wooden rocker on the wooden floor of the porch broke the tempo of nature.
I heard music playing very softly, and as I began to concentrate on the sound, it became obvious that the source was either a zither or a harpsichord. It wasn't quite loud enough to determine which instrument, or for that matter what song or score was being played. But, whoever the artist was, he/she was accomplished. Pretty nice idea of Mr LaSalle I thought, a bit of "elevator music" for the waiting patrons. I had played both a guitar and an autoharp for many years, and I appreciated both the sound and the talent of the artist. I just sat there enjoying the music, the rocking chair and the taste of the pipe tobacco along with the occasional breeze. The tour could continue, I was relaxed and enjoying the moment.
When my wife, daughter and son-in-law finished the tour and came out on to the front porch with Mr LaSalle, they filled me in on what they had seen upstairs along with more about "Old Hickory". The stories took 10-15 minutes or so, and as they were winding down I asked Mr LaSalle where he had found the tape/CD of the zither music. I received 4 blank stares. "What zither music?" The more I said caused the stares to become more blank until we all realized at the same moment that what I had been listening to and enjoying wasn't something that was originating as a reproduction. I had just enjoyed a live concert from person or persons unknown, from a time and a place likewise unknown. We didn't tarry as we left the porch for the car and the car for the return home.
