Fun fact: I am a direct descendant of “Ferry John” Smith.
Doesn’t sound very impressive, does it? What if I told you Ferry John once owned land as far as you can see in all directions at Averasboro Battlefield?
How about this: the grand homes you see on the driving tour? Every single one of them was owned by my 4x-great grand uncles.
One of the most storied of those homes is Lebanon Plantation—built around 1824 as a wedding gift from Ferry John to his son Farquhard. It’s nestled just outside of Dunn, North Carolina, and it’s still standing strong today, nearly 200 years later.
Constructed in the popular Greek Revival style, Lebanon features weatherboard siding, a two-tier front porch with delicate sawnwork brackets, and a brick pier foundation. It was the centerpiece of a sprawling 3,600-acre plantation—land Ferry John had acquired decades earlier.
Back then, houses weren’t just homes. They were declarations—of family, of wealth, and of permanence. And Lebanon was all of that. It wasn’t just a gift—it was an anchor for the next generation.
In March of 1865, as Union and Confederate troops clashed in the Battle of Averasboro, Lebanon was commandeered as a field hospital. Confederate soldiers were treated inside the house and beneath the shade of the property’s namesake cedar trees—once abundant and towering, now mostly lost to time and storms.
A historical marker placed in 1961 still stands as a reminder of the role this home played during one of the Civil War’s final battles.
Lebanon is one of the rare plantation homes in North Carolina still privately owned by descendants of its builder. After Farquhard’s death in 1871, the property stayed in Smith hands, passed down generation after generation. It was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1973, and for good reason: it’s not just architecturally significant—it’s a living story.
When I visit Averasboro today, I see more than battle maps and interpretive signs. I see my family’s footprint. I see where Granddaddy’s people lived, loved, lost, and endured.
So the next time you drive through Harnett County and see those beautiful old homes, know this: they weren’t just antebellum mansions. They were part of a family. My family.
And Lebanon? That’s not just a house on the tour. That’s our legacy, standing proud in brick and board, cedar and soil.
