this past weekend I hit the road with a couple friends & explored an abandoned mansion that was built in the 1800’s. It was at one time owned by a state senator & general in the War of 1812, who later died in a duel with his cousin.
Sometimes you have to just get up and go and you’ll find some of the most beautiful places. Already looking forward to the next mini road trip, wherever that may be.
Belle Grove Plantation, located near White Castle in Iberville Parish, Louisiana, was built in 1857 and was one of the largest mansions ever built in the South. By the 1850′s, 150 slaves were enslaved here and producing over one-half million pounds of sugar per year. The mansion cost $80,000 to built; not including the free slave labor. After unsuccessful crop years, the plantation was abandoned in 1925. In 1952, an unexplainable fire erupted in the mansion, destroying much of the grand structure.
The red clay is hard under your nails. The tips of your finger’s ache as if you’ve been digging, clawing at the earth with your bare hands. You attempt to wash your hands–the water running red from the powdered clay–but it clings to you. Your hands remain dirty for days.
The church by your home has no windows. It has no door that you can see, either. Most of the people in town claim they attend this church, swearing by the preacher–he’s apparently gifted with God’s divine blessing. You’ve never seen a car or living being anywhere near the building.
Legend says the grave of a Revolutionary Soldier lies deep in the woods of Ninety Six. The headstone is blank, they say; not simply worn by time, but genuinely unmarked. You decide to pay the fallen soldier a visit, only to see there is in fact a name upon the headstone–and it’s yours.
You visit the abandoned shell of a plantation often. It’s deep in the woods behind your house, the only path leading to it’s steps one that you crudely carved yourself a couple summers ago. Each time you visit, there is fresh brewed tea on what’s left of the kitchen table. You drink it eagerly.
It’s hunting season again this year. A boy you know happily shows off photos of his latest triumph to the class. It’s the biggest deer he’s ever seen, he says. Nearly wouldn’t fit in the bed of his truck. You catch a glimpse of the photo as it’s passed around and fear tightens in your chest. That is not a deer.
The two neighborhood coyotes grow a little bolder every day. Where they used to merely rummage through the garbage, they’ve now nabbed a few of your Grandmother’s chickens. One day your neighbors daughter goes missing. They never find the girl–but you do notice the strange new third coyote has the same color eyes as her.
The Waffle House in town is pretty quiet that evening. You decide to throw a couple dollars in the Juke Box just to kill the silence–only to find all of the album images have been replaced by the same photo of a woman who appears to have no mouth. One song is titled Echos of Mercy. The entire song appears to be nothing but static–though you believe you can hear faint crying if you listen hard enough. You eat the rest of your meal uncomfortably.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this abandoned South Carolina plantation that I was asked to investigate several years ago. The place is enormously haunted and I heard it underwent restoration in 2014, which is something that typically stirs up activity in these kinds of places. Would you guys like me to dig out my accounts of my investigations? Sometimes people are really intrigued by haunted places in the Old South. Let me know if you guys want to see what I experienced there.