Ella and Annie Murrey of McRaven House

VICKSBURG, Miss. by Evan Winschel (VDN) — The Murrey sisters grew up in McRaven, never married and inherited the famed house from their parents.

“Houses, like people, are apt to become rather eccentric if left too much on their own.” -Susanna Clarke

The sound of the final school bell reverberated throughout the halls, marking the end of the day. A deluge of students poured from the front doors, dispersing off in every direction on their way home. Some stuck to the sidewalks, others to the trolley and some took shortcuts through private property to reach their destination. One property in particular, only the bravest dared to cut through. That of the spinster Murray sister. Their property shrouded by thick, seemingly impenetrable vegetation, lay hidden from view. So overgrown had the once curated gardens grown that many in town believed the homestead to have been lost to the war. The jungle of vines clung to the trees and house like its inhabitants clung to the past.

It was this property that a young pupil, Mary Schaffer, would tread through on her way to her house across the railroad tracks. Some of her peers probably thought her foolish for thinking she could sneak unnoticed past the clan of two. Others may have anxiously waited to see if she made it out alive. Either way, she was in the soup now. Pushing the unruly branches away as she made her way through the urban forest, Mary kept her eyes alert to any obstacles in her path. Above, sunlight struggled to break through the canopy of century old trees and ornamental plantings. Finally rounding the back of the house, and the front gate in view, she was almost home free. That is, until she heard someone speaking to her from behind.

Many years prior to their reputation taking on an air of lore and mystery, the Murray sisters belonged to a very well-respected family in town. Born to parents William and Ellen Murray, they were two of seven children. Ella born in 1879 and Annie following in 1883. One by one the Murray children would leave the nest until only Ella and Annie remained. Eventually, with the passing of their parents, they became the sole inheritors of the family homestead, McRaven. Both women never married, and their inheritance afforded them the luxury of living independently. Choosing instead each other’s company in the confines of their home.

With each passing year, change seemed to permeate through all corners of the town. Lamps powered by oil and gas were electrified. Correspondence by mail was done by phone. Hemlines on women’s clothing rose from the floor to the knees. You name it and it was altered. That is, everywhere but at the Murray household. As if sealed within a time capsule, the Murray sisters and their property seemed immune to the changing of the times. Both women continued to wear corseted dresses. Cooked their meals in the kitchen that hadn’t been updated since 1849. Even having ice blocks delivered for their circa 1853 icebox until the early 1950s when the plant went out of business. So intact was their vintage lifestyle that when they eventually installed a telephone, it stuck out like a sore thumb.

With old age setting in, the Murray sisters soon found the many stairs too much to ascend and eventually converted the dining room into their shared bedroom. Boxes, crates and floor to ceiling stacks of newspapers now filled the upstairs rooms, where they would remain untouched for over 25 years. Soon even the kitchen was abandoned to the ravages of disuse when the sisters started to cook their meals in their bedroom’s fireplace. When firewood was not available, the sisters would chop up original furnishings as a substitution. By the close of the 50s decade, the house was in a deplorable state of decay. Vines grew through one window and out another. Plaster peeled from the walls as moths lay ruin to what remained of the drapes. Yearly accumulations of leaves covered the once fine carpets. No one in town could comprehend how people could inhabit such a place. Seeming to lack any logic, people’s perceptions soon turned the sisters and their property into that of myth…

The floorboards of the old homestead’s porch creaked as a pair of ancient rockers slowly moved back and forth beneath their occupants. Leaves crunched beneath her feet as Mary turned toward the welcoming voice. There on the porch, dressed in faded black dresses, sat the Murray sisters. Their pale complexions warmed with smiles as they went to the kitchen to retrieve something. From the doorway they moved with their worn gowns sweeping the bricks as they made their way to her vicinity. With an outstretched arm, one of the sisters presented Mary with a plate of freshly baked cookies. Turns out they weren’t scary at all. With Mary later recalling, “They were very nice ladies.”

Ella Murray passed away in 1960. With her sister gone, Annie saw no reason to remain at McRaven and sold it to O.E. Bradway in 1961. She would spend her remaining years in a nursing home before passing away in 1972. Their stewardship of McRaven singlehandedly preserved the rare opportunity of seeing history in its unaltered form and led to the house being distinguished as “The Time Capsule of the South” by National Geographic Magazine in 1963.

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The Cedar Hill Cemetery Association was formed in 2024 with the goal of assisting the city of Vicksburg with the preservation and beautification of the historic city cemetery.