AMERICAN HAUNTINGS GHOST HUNTS
NIGHT AT THE MCNUTT HOUSE
VICKSBURG, MISSISSIPPI
NEXT AVAILABLE DATE:
8:00 PM - 1:00 AM
$62 PER PERSON
The McNutt House in the historic city of Vicksburg is considered to be the oldest home in town – many also consider it to be the most haunted! Scores of people have had strange experiences here over the years, and based on the history of the house – as well as the turbulent history of Vicksburg itself – this is no surprise!
Built in 1826 and purchased three years later by Mississippi's twelfth governor, Alexander Gallatin McNutt, this house has endured for nearly two centuries. McNutt and his wife, Betsy, lived in the house during his terms in the State Senate, leading up to his election as governor. When he left the house – if he left it at all, that is – he likely had no idea that the Civil War would be coming to America a few decades later.
Vicksburg in the 1850s
Mississippi was the second state to secede from the Union in 1861 and to join the Confederacy. Jefferson Davis was a native son, and this gave the state a closeness to the southern government that would make it a pivotal state during the war. Beginning in the spring of 1862, Mississippi became a battleground, and there were few sections of the state which did not see destruction and devastation. When the war was over, nearly the entire state lay in ruins.
The city of Vicksburg is steeped in the history, legends, lore, and ghost stories of the conflict. By the fall of 1862, President Abraham Lincoln had found the fighting general he needed in Ulysses S. Grant. In December, he tasked Grant with capturing the city of Vicksburg, a city that was of vital importance to the Confederacy. As far as Lincoln was concerned, once Vicksburg fell, the Mississippi River would belong to the Union. Naval forces had already tried to seize Vicksburg and had failed. The only option that remained was to try and take it by land.
Under Grant's command, the Army of Tennessee left Memphis for Vicksburg. The drive was spearheaded by a force under General William T. Sherman, but they were stopped cold in their tracks by Confederate forces at Chickasaw Bluffs.
General Ulysses S. Grant
Grant pushed on, and at the end of January 1863, his men had reached Young's Point, across the river and 20 miles north of Vicksburg. He rendezvoused with Admiral David Dixon Porter, whose naval forces had already been repelled by Confederate forces. Vicksburg, located on a high river bluff, seemed to be impregnable.
For the next two and a half months, Grant tried in vain to dig, cut, or float his army through the thick bayous and seize the bluffs on the north and south sides of the city. He even tried digging a canal that would connect one part of the Mississippi to another, allowing Porter's fleet to bypass Vicksburg. They dug for several weeks before abandoning the plan. Lincoln was growing impatient, and the northern newspapers were calling for Grant's removal.
Finally, in late March, Grant devised his most daring plan-- one so foolhardy that Sherman advised against it. Grant planned to march downriver, cross below Vicksburg with no hope of resupply or reinforcements, and then come from behind and take the city. To confuse the Confederate defenders, Sherman would attack north of the city, while cavalry troops were ordered to destroy the railroad lines leading into Vicksburg.
For the next three weeks, Grant's army marched more than 180 miles, cut off from all communication with the Union army. They fought and won five major battles between their former position and Vicksburg, out-maneuvered Confederate commander Joseph E. Johnston, and finally surrounded Vicksburg itself, trapping a force of 31,000 men under General John C. Pemberton within its borders.
Three of Grant's attacks were beaten back, so he laid siege to the city, combined with an almost constant artillery barrage. The shelling had little effect on morale as the soldiers and civilians vowed to ignore it. They believed that Grant could only hold out so long, and then he would leave.
But Grant dug in and continued the siege until July. Through the spring and start of the summer, he slowly "tightened the noose" around the city. Day after day, his position moved closer to the Confederate line, while gunboats on the river pounded Vicksburg without mercy.
To survive the shelling of the city, civilian dug into the hillsides and lives in hot, dirty, snake-infested caves for weeks
In the city, civilians dug more than 500 caves into the hillside to protect themselves from the shelling. The shelters were dirty and infested by snakes but were effective. Fewer than a dozen civilians were killed in the shelling, and only 30 were injured. The city was starving, though. Soldiers and civilians were forced to eat mules, horses, dogs, and a horrible bread made from corn and dried peas. Rats were even sold in the butcher shops and were described as tasting like "squirrels." By late June, almost half the Confederate force was on the sick list or in the hospital.
One Confederate sergeant wrote: "The houses were in ruins, rent and torn by shot and shell... fences torn down and houses pulled to pieces for firewood... Lice and filth covered the bodies of the soldiers. Delicate women and little children.... peered at the passer-by with wistful eyes from the caves in the hillsides."
But still, Vicksburg refused to surrender. When there was no more newsprint, the local newspaper was even printed on old wallpaper. The editorials remained defiant.
Finally, General Pemberton surrendered on July 4, 1863. The death and privation in the city were what he called "a useless waste of life and blood." The Confederate military and the people of Vicksburg had lasted for 48 days. The Union army did not cheer in victory, nor did they abuse their captives. "They knew that we had surrendered to famine, not to them," wrote one Confederate chaplain.
In continued defiance, July 4 would not be celebrated as a holiday in Vicksburg for 81 years.
Through all the history and war, however, the McNutt House has remained standing. It has been turned into a bed and breakfast in recent years, and while it offers guests a first-person experience of the antebellum South – it also offers a ghostly one, too.
When Elvin and Pam McFerrin bought the McNutt House, they thought they were purchasing a home with a lot of history, one where they could give tours and have play host to guests from around the country. They had no idea they would be playing hosts to ghosts, too.
They found that out on their first day in the house. One of the boarders at the time asked if they were the new owners, and when they said yes, he responded, "Well, you know you have ghosts, don't you?"
The boarder went on to tell them of a night he was trying to fill his salt shaker, but he couldn't get the lid off, so he left it on the counter when he went to bed. "When he got up the next morning, the lid was sitting next to the salt shaker," McFerrin said.
Not long after that, Pam McFerrin was alone in a building called Maggie's Hall, which sits behind the main house, when all the doors slammed at once. "It was very scary," she said.
The property is also the final resting place to Confederate Lieutenant David Weeks Magill, whose tombstone is in the courtyard in front of the nearby Magill House, which is named for him. Magill was engaged in a firefight with Union gunboats, and he was hit by a cannonball that severed his arm, then blew up behind him, leaving him with a severe head wound. He died soon after and was buried on the McNutt House property.
Many believe that he is one of the ghosts that remain behind here at the house. But he's not the only one.
Maggie's Hall – where Pan had her experience with the door -- is named for the spirit of a child who is said to remain there. She is usually seen by other children, and she wears a blue dress.
Alexander McNutt's brother had a daughter named Margaret who died on the property during a Yellow Fever epidemic and has apparently never left. Years ago, the house was used as a Montessori School, and the children often wondered why "the other little girl" was always allowed to play outside and never had to come in.
But this haunting became more unnerving one day when Pam McFerrin was sitting outside with her sister-in-law, whose six-year-old daughter, Marley, was playing in the yard. As Pam related the story, Marley came up and said, "Her name's Maggie."
The adults asked Marley how she knew, and she said, "She told me." Then she held up a dime and said, "She also told me to look under the deck for this dime."