Smoke wafted from the campfires and kerosene lanterns lit the tents last Friday night. It was much the way it might have been more than 150 years ago at the John Ford Home during the annual Ford’s Encampment.
For those who don’t know, many re-enactors enjoy the full experience of dressing the part for the Civil War. As night fell on the historic site in southern Marion County, tents were filled with people preparing for the following day’s activities. Many had been at the home all day Friday doing demonstrations for area schoolchildren. Some cooked over campfires while others simply enjoyed a warm Mississippi night.
It was an interesting night for me as well. I spent the evening on the grounds of the John Ford Home with my friends and Backroads and Burgers blog partners, Brandi Perry and Jeni Southerland. We were the guests of the Marion County Historical Society in the John Ford Home, the first group to stay since the 1960s when the home was taken over by the society.
If you haven’t been to see it, it’s a must. Nestled not far from the banks of the Pearl River in Sandy Hook, the John Ford Home was built sometime around 1800. It is a one-of-a-kind piece of architecture and an amazing example of living history.
We made our way from camp to camp meeting with re-enactors from near and far. I learned a lot of about who they were and who they were portraying. It was probably 11 p.m. when we made our way across the grounds to the home to try to sleep. Like any 200-year-old home, there are rumors and stories of the ghosts and of the people who lived and died in the home over the years.
I settled in the historic Andrew Jackson bedroom for the night. The bed in the room dates back to Jackson’s days during the War of 1812, when he stayed in the home on the way to the Battle of New Orleans. There is a painting of Jackson on the wall and it seems that wherever you are in the room, he is looking at you. My friends settled in another part of the home, nearby. It was kind of funny, but I couldn’t turn all of the lights off in the room, so a small light that shone on the painting illuminated it for the night.
As I settled in to try to sleep, I looked up at the painting. It was like Jackson was staring down at me. I wondered what he might have been thinking when he lay in the same bed more than two centuries ago. I also thought about the people who might have been in the house over those 200 years.
I drifted off to sleep, but was awakened by a sound – it was a harmonica playing Dixie. No, I wasn’t imagining it, it was being played by a re-enactor, but it made me jump form Jackson’s era to 1864, when Union General John Davidson stayed in the home.
Earlier in the night, I’d spoken with Ken Knopp of the Marion County Historical Society, who often portrays Davidson. I thought about a general pacing the floors of the home. I wondered if Davidson’s troops had played harmonica on long sleepless nights before battle. Though Davidson’s men wouldn’t have played Dixie, I could imagine the campfires and songs. I could also picture a bugler early in the morning playing Reveille to wake the troops. I awakened for good around 5 a.m. and thought about what it might have been like to be the bugler, rising in the mist on a humid winter morning.
What can I tell you about the Ford Home – well, there was a painting we straightened that was crooked the next morning. I’ll just leave it at that.
As for Andrew Jackson, historians may remember him in a lot of different ways. All I know is that I was fortunate enough to have slept in the same place as a man who went on to be president and who was a famous military mind of the 19th century – and it was all right here in Marion County. To me, that is immensely cool.
Mark Rogers is managing editor of The Columbian-Progress. Reach him at news@columbianprogress.com.
