The singing woke him up, so one account goes. The noise, it’s been said, was enough to draw Jefferson Davis — then a candidate for the U.S. Senate visiting Columbus — out onto the second-story balcony of Snowdoun to see what was afoot. A night breeze tousled his hair and ruffled Davis’ long nightshirt, as townspeople on the lawn below serenaded the statesman and urged him to say a few words.

Kathryn Tucker Windham’s book “Jeffrey’s Favorite 13 Ghost Stories” puts the incident later, in 1863, while Davis was president of the Confederacy. The date is attributed to Nellie Weaver Tucker, who lived in the town at the time. Another description says it was soldiers Davis found gathered on the grounds. Belatedly realizing he was in night attire, he returned to his room to change before addressing them.

The variations of a century and a half aside, the nightshirt story is just one in a storehouse of gems within homes on the Columbus Pilgrimage. A driving tour past the antebellum structures, while a pleasant pastime, is a no substitute for crossing the thresholds to see and hear.

U.S. Air Force Lt. Col. Wayne Chitmon and his wife, Ashley, reside at Snowdoun (circa 1854). It’s their first year as hosts. They are the only active duty Columbus Air Force Base family living in one of the 19 historic homes on the tour, which ends April 18.

“We’ve been drawn in,” said Ashley Chitmon of her family’s inaugural experience. She spent much of the 2014 Pilgrimage with homeowner Lee Tortorici, at Ole Magnolia. “I wanted to see what we’d need to do to be on the tour. Lee was a great mentor.”

Since the Chitmons are still fairly new residents at Snowdoun, having moved in about a year and a half ago, exploring the history of this house built for former Mississippi governor James Whitfield is still an unfolding adventure. The nuggets of history, like Jefferson Davis’ stay, is one they enjoy sharing with Pilgrimage visitors.

Bullets flying

Pilgrims to Whitehall (circa 1843) will see the thick, scarred Civil War bullet homeowners Joe and Carol Boggess discovered lodged in woodwork during renovation of the front porch.

“It was right by the front door,” said Carol, kneeling with the bullet to show where it was found. The wayward shot is attributed to rioting by rowdy “carpetbaggers” on horseback in the turmoil soon after the war, according to local historian Rufus Ward, a descendant of the former owners. As Boggess tells the story, it’s not difficult to imagine the thud of hooves, shouts in the street and smoke from the nearby burning stables.

A bygone era is conjured up, too, by a worn, pitted leather bag filled with the home’s original keys.

“Mrs. Harris (wife of original owner James Walton Harris) had a key to every door on the property,” explained Boggess. “She would carry the bag with her and lock the doors at night and open them back up the next day.”

During the Civil War, and particularly after the Battle of Shiloh, Columbus was a hospital town. Mrs. Harris was president of the Soldiers Relief Society, nursing the sick and wounded. Whitehall’s basement took in overflow beds; holes once visible in the walls would have supported six or so cots or stretchers.

Ward himself possesses a Confederate Archer type artillery shell that was found buried almost 2 feet deep beside Ole Homestead (circa 1825), the home he shares with his wife, Karen. It’s on the Pilgrimage tour today, for one day only. E.R. Hopkins, who lived in the home as a small boy during the war, wrote of swapping food with soldiers for souvenirs.

“When Confederate troops were marching up and down College Street to the steamboat landing on the river, children would trade cookies and cakes for souvenirs,” said Ward. The shell may have been one of Hopkins’ prizes.

Remnants of history

At White Arches (circa 1857), homeowners Dick and Jo Anne Leike show a carefully preserved funeral notice more than 150 years old. Though discolored by time, the black script informs friends and acquaintances of services for Mary O. Harris, a daughter of the household in the autumn of 1862.

Before Gen. J.D. Harris, who built White Arches, went off to war, he held a ball at the house — perhaps a coming-out for Mary.

“It is said to be one of the last ones held in Columbus before the war,” said Dick Leike. But on the night of the ball, the story goes that Mary went out into the chill night air and caught a cold, which progressed into pneumonia and caused her death.

Every home has its stories, especially in an old river town filled with history and lore. Explore, and learn of a changing nation, of loves found and lost, of laudanum bottles under porch posts, etched names in window panes, ghosts, “hidey holes” and even one tour home won in a poker game.

These are only a few, a sampling of the past beyond the front doors. If you go on a Pilgrimage tour, you may hear some of these stories … but only if you go.

Jan Swoope is the Lifestyles Editor for The Commercial Dispatch.