HEALTHFULNESS AT THE SWAMP.
Although the Dismal Swamp is so uninviting, it is one of the
healthiest places in the United States. Death from disease has never
been known in that place, and it is impossible to tell what age one
would attain if they would take up their abode in it. I have been told
that instances were known where persons were found who were so old
that they had moss growing on their backs, and who could give no idea
of their age. I once knew a family by the name of Draper, who lived in
the Swamp near the edge of the Lake. What became of them I do not
know; the spot where the house stood now forms a part of the Lake. The
constant washing of the western shore causes rapid encroachments, and
it is only a question of time when it will reach the high lands. It is
in the Dismal Swamp that Lake Drummond was discovered, by whom I do
not know, but is said to have been found by a man named Drummond,
whose name it bears; that will make no difference with me, the
question is, how came it there? Was it a freak of nature, or was it
caused by warring of the elements, is a question for the consideration
of those who visit it? That it was the effect of fire caused by
lightning setting fire to the turf, or some dead tree, there can be no
doubt. At what time in the Christian era this eventful period was, it
is not, nor never will be, known. Suffice it to say, that it was found
and is the wonder and admiration of all that have ever visited it. It
is a broad sheet of water, covering an area of five by seven miles,
and is surrounded by a dense growth of woods, so thick that you cannot
see the Lake until you are within a few feet of it. Many visitors have
visited it, all of whom were struck with astonishment at the sight.
It is ten miles southeast of Suffolk. I will now relate some of the
adventures of my first trip. It was on a bright morning, early in the
month of May, 1832, that my father and I started for "Lake Drummond,"
or the Lake of the "Dismal Swamp," as some call it; and as all
preparations had been made the night before, there was nothing to
prevent us from making an early start. The idea of my going to the
Lake had driven sleep from my eyes, and I was ready to start at any
time; but it was not until the grey dawn of day that my father began
to stir. He was soon ready, and providing himself with fishing poles,
bait, lunch, and such other articles as were necessary for a two or
three days' fishing excursion, then taking our leave of my mother and
the other members of the family, we were off. The Portsmouth and
Roanoke railroad (now the Seaboard and Roanoke railroad) was at that
time graded as far as Suffolk. We followed the line of it as far as a
place known as Peter Jones, where we left it and passed through "Bull
Field," to the company's mill, which is but a short distance from the
basin of the Canal, at which place we were to take a skiff for the
Lake. On arriving at the basin we found Mr. James Woodward,
grandfather of Hersey Woodward, Esq., of Suffolk, Va. He was inspector
of lumber for the "Dismal Swamp Land Company," and was on his way to
the Lake. The drivers of the skiff, Tony Nelson and Jim Brown, were
ready, and it being now about sunrise, Mr. Woodward and my father soon
got their traps aboard, then lifting me in, all was ready. The
drivers adjusted their poles and away we went, all being a novelty to
me, who had never before been in a boat on water. Everything appeared
very strange, being but a very small boy as I was. Nothing happened to
impede our progress, and in about five hours from the time of starting
we arrived at the Lake. Then it was that our young soul began to
thrill with joy, for we were at the Lake and would soon launch on its
broad bosom. The gates of the Lock were opened and the skiff shoved
in, then the first gate being closed behind us another gate opened.
The water rushed in and soon our boat was on a level with the Lake.
The drivers then took up the oars and were ready to cross to Jack's
Landing, which was on the opposite side of the Lake. It being very
rough at the time, some fears were expressed, but Mr. Woodward, who
was well acquainted with the situation, said that he did not apprehend
any danger, and the skiff was put in motion. As I said before, it was
very rough, and when we had gotten about half-way across, it became
more so: the waves began to break over the skiff and all thought that
it would fill. Fortunately, two large wooden shovels or scoops were
found in the skiff, and with them Mr. Woodward and my father kept her
free, "Tony" and "Jim," in the meantime, plying their oars manfully.
We soon arrived at "Jack's Landing," and disembarking proceeded to
Jack's camp, which was but a short distance away, and known to every
person who had ever visited the Lake. On our arrival the pious Mr.
Woodward offered up to the Great Ruler of wind and water a prayer for
our safe deliverance from a watery grave. As we had not partaken of
any nourishment since early morning, it was proposed that we should
eat something, which was readily agreed to, and in a short time we had
gotten through that part of our work, whereupon my father said he
would try his luck fishing. So taking a small boat, which he found at
"Jack's Landing," placing me in it and then getting in himself, he
started for some good place to commence. He fished awhile at the
"Forked Gum" without any success; moved to the "Stooping Pine" with a
like result. He began to think that it was the wrong moon, and leaving
that place he paddled for the "Three Cypresses," where he caught some
very fine fish. It was now getting late in the afternoon, and as he
expected to make an early start the next morning, he thought it best
to return to the camp, heading his boat in that direction he soon
reached the landing: having but a short distance to walk, we were not
long in reaching it. Mr. Woodward had gone out to inspect some lumber
and it was getting time for his return. We did not have long to wait.
He soon came in, and looking at my father's "Fish Gourd," remarked:
"Neddie, you have had fine sport; where did you catch so many such
large Frenchmen?" "Friend Jimmy," my father replied, "when I started
my first experiment was at the 'Forked Gum,' and I did not get a
nibble. I left it and stopped at the 'Stooping Pine' with the same
success. I began to think that I was fishing on the wrong moon." "Oh!
Neddie," rejoined Mr. Woodward, "there is nothing in the phases of
the moon. You are not a good fisherman. I can take you to the 'Forked
Gum' and 'Stooping Pine' and astonish you." "After leaving the
'Stooping Pine,'" continued my father, "I made for the 'Three
Cypresses,' and it was there that I caught these fine perch."
"Neddie," said Mr. Woodward, "you are not such a bad fisherman after
all. Your success would do credit to the best." My father proposed to
Mr. W. that we should have some of the fish cleaned and cooked for
supper. The necessary order being given, in a short time a sufficient
number were ready for the pan. A hot fire was made of juniper logs,
and frying of fish commenced. In a short time we were told to get our
shingles ready, that being the only kind of plate used in the "Dismal
Swamp." And it is a well known fact that fish eat sweeter off a
shingle than any plate on which it can be placed. The fish were very
fine and greatly enjoyed by all.
Supper being disposed of, a general conversation was indulged in about
the Lake and Swamp, but no one present could tell anything
satisfactory about the origin of the Lake. One idea was announced and
then another, throwing but little light upon the subject. "Tony" and
"Jim," the drivers of the skiff, were sitting near the embers nodding,
when Mr. Woodward, to have a little fun, said: "Tony, what is your
opinion of the origin of the Lake?"