PORTE CRAYON'S VISIT, INCIDENTS, ETC.
At a much later date the Lake was visited by Porte Crayon, who was at
that time writing for Harper's Monthly. The account given of his
trip, with his illustrations, are very life-like and interesting, and
in the February or March number of that valuable book, for the year
1857, you will be greatly amused at the description there given. Two
darkies, Eli Chalk and Jim Pearce, were the drivers of the pleasure
boat furnished by W. S. Riddick, Esq., the then agent of the Dismal
Swamp Land Company, in which he was carried to the Lake. He was there
some two or three days, and his writings should be read to be
appreciated. It was at the Lake that we saw Uncle "Alek," of whom a
fac-simile likeness is given in the book above referred to. Uncle
"Alek" was a superanuated old colored man, belonging to the Reverend
Jacob Keeling, Rector of the Episcopal Churches in Nansemond county,
Virginia. He was quite old, and retained his memory to a remarkable
degree. He was called the "Bee Hunter" of the Dismal Swamp, and, if I
am not mistaken, had a bag of bees in his hand when Porte first met
him. He would follow bees for a long distance, cutting his way through
the reeds for miles in a straight line, until he came to the tree in
which was the hollow. Then he would take out the bees, put them into a
bag and bring them out. In going to the Lake you could see numberless
paths cut by Uncle Alek for that purpose. The opening through the
reeds would look to be about two feet wide and ten feet high, which
was almost the length of the reeds. Uncle Alek worked in the swamp
nearly all his life, was a faithful hand, and in his old age the
company gave him a house and a piece of land, as a home during his
natural life. A mule was also given to him by the company, which mule
I had the honor of riding at a tournament at Suffolk, Va., in 1860.
How old he was no one could tell at that time. No account is given of
any mules being in the Ark at the time that she settled on dry land,
and where that mule came from will never be known. It is very certain
that he appeared on this mundane sphere at some period after the
flood. If he is dead I have heard nothing of it. He may be wandering
about the Dismal Swamp. Old Uncle Alek and his mule were great
curiosities, and whenever he came to town on his mule they attracted a
great deal of attention. He was an exhorter in the Methodist Churches
for colored people, and always had in his pocket a Testament or hymn
book. He was perfectly conversant with the Bible, and could refer
readily to any passage of Scripture that you might mention. He was
born in 1783, and died a few years ago, having attained the age of one
hundred years, his mind being as vivid and active as at any time. We
shall never forget Uncle Alek and his mule. They were things of our
earliest recollection, and, like many of the landmarks at the "Lake of
the Dismal Swamp," have been washed away. I have been to it frequently
since my first visit, and would notice the changes made by the rude
hand of time.
I have examined several writers that have written about "Uncle Alek's
Mule," and am satisfied that it was the same one that "Nat Turner"
rode when on his raid of murder in Southampton county, Va., in 1831.
Looking over the diary of Colonel Godfrey for thirty years, we notice
that he said "Nat Turner," when he appeared in the avenue of Dr.
Blount, on that fatal night, he rode at the head of the column,
mounted on a sorrel mule, with flax mane and tail. But the question
arises, how that mule got into the Dismal Swamp, and how he came in
possession of the Dismal Swamp Land Company. Col. Godfrey states that
there were several guns in the house of Dr. Blount, and several
visitors there at the time; that the young Blount loaded the guns, and
that a strong fire was kept up on the advancing column. Nat Turner was
thrown from his mule, then they became panic-stricken, and were
dispersed. For the bravery displayed by young Blount on that occasion,
he received a midshipman's warrant in the United States Navy. I will
now quote from G. P. R. James' book, called the "Old Dominion," in
which he states that a "young mother with her infant fled to the
Dismal Swamp for safety." It was several miles away, and it may be
that she drove that same mule, and the probability is that she left
the mule in the Swamp, and that he wandered about until he found
Jack's Camp, where he was secured and became the property of the
Dismal Swamp Land Company. How long the company worked him before he
became the property of Uncle Alek, I do not know, but am satisfied
that it was several years, and that his wind was injured by
overloading. I have the testimony of a gentleman well-known in
Suffolk, now living, who stated that he saw a cymling vine at jack's
Camp which was of spontaneous growth, and which covered more juniper
trees than he could count, and from that vine there was gathered two
hundred and fifty cart loads of cymlings. It may be that the hauling
away of these cymlings so injured the mule that he was no longer of
service to the company. There is no doubt he was turned over to Uncle
Alek, which must have been during the year 1832. I was in the Swamp
during that year and saw the cymling vine above alluded to, and no one
could tell how it came to grow there. It will be impossible for me to
tell how old Uncle Alek's mule was or what became of him. I have never
heard that he died or was killed. He was no doubt the most remarkable
mule that ever lived. The last that I heard from him was related by
Uncle Alek himself, and which was no doubt true. I will relate as near
as I can what the old man told me. He came to Suffolk one day and I
noticed that he was very much excited. I said to him: "Uncle Alek,
what has happened to you?" He answered: "Marse Robert I neber was in
sich a fix befo' in all my life. I hav' fit bars, rattlesnakes, wild
cats and bees, but I tell you sumfin' has happened to me to-day dat
neber bin known to befall any one." "What was that Uncle Alek?" I
inquired. "I'm terribly upsot, and I dunno what to do. I shall hab to
mov' 'way frum my place; a whirlwind struc' my well dis mornin' an'
has twisted it so dat I can't git de bucket down in de well, an' I
can't git no water, an' what is wuss den all, my mule has bin
translated. He wus a good mule, and his loss ruins me." I saw Uncle
Alek some time after that, when he told me that he was out in the
Swamp hunting bees, when lo and behold! he heard his mule bray. He
cast his eyes up and saw him lodged in the forks of a large tree.
There was no way by which he could get him down, and left him as he
thought to die. But his surprise can be imagined when he heard
nuzzling at the door one morning, when, upon opening, what should he
see but his mule. How he came down he could not tell, but said he
should always believe that his mule could climb a tree. I said it must
have been a Providential interference, and that the same Power which
landed him in the tree was able to lift him out. "Dat is so," said the
old man, "an' I will nebber agin' complain at de ways ob an
Over-Rulin' Providence." I often think of Col. Godfrey and his remark,
when he said that what best conduces to the happiness of mankind is
right. Uncle Alek, knowing that his mule was at home with his head
well in the crib, and he in the Swamp fighting bears and bees, was
perfectly happy. Uncle Alek and his mule are both now dead, and I
shall always have a lively recollection of them. I often think of
them, and that I rode Uncle Alek's mule as Knight of the Dismal Swamp
at a tournament, won the first honor, and was ruled out on account of
my mule not making time, much to the mortification of Uncle Alek. As
Uncle Alek and his mule will appear again, I will leave them for the
present and relate an interesting conversation with Mr. Richard
Hosier, who now lives in Suffolk, and who is as well acquainted with
the Dismal Swamp as any one now living. He is perfectly familiar with
every part of it, and is, no doubt, correct in many of his statements.
He informed me that long before the Lake was discovered by Drummond,
two gentlemen from Elizabeth City, N. C., left for the Dismal Swamp on
a hunting expedition, and having lost their way, wandered about until
they came to what they discovered to be a large body of water. From it
they traveled a due west course and came out at a farm on the Desert
road, known as Mossy Swamp, and one of the men was taken sick and
died; the other one returned to Elizabeth City. Mr. Hosier did not
state when this was, but said it was long before Drummond made known
that he had discovered a lake in the Dismal Swamp. It will be
remembered that Mr. Hosier was arrested in Norfolk in 1863 by order of
the Federal general then commanding that department, and was being
carried toward the Indian Pole Bridge to be put to work on the
defences of Norfolk. He was not disposed to do work in that way, and
when well out from Norfolk he eluded the guard that had him, and
directed his steps toward the Southern Branch of the Elizabeth river.
On his arrival, seeing boats passing up and down, he secreted himself
until the darkness of night had fallen, then making a bundle of his
clothes and placing it on his head, he entered the river and swam to
the other shore. He then pursued his way to the Deep Creek Canal,
which he forded. Arriving at the "Feeder," he was not far from the
Lake, and was at a place with which he was well acquainted, and out
of the reach of all danger of being recaptured. Resting himself a
while, he then started for the Lake, and it was at that place he
performed his great feat. He could not procure a boat, and the
prospect before him was gloomy indeed. If he remained there he would,
in all probability, have been devoured by bears and other wild animals
in the Swamp, or perhaps, starve. Not being in the least daunted, he
prepared himself to reach the western shore, which could only be done
by swimming. It was seven miles across, but he nerved himself to the
accomplishment of his object. He prepared himself as before by making
a bundle of his clothes, which he placed on the top of his head, and
was then ready to swim across or perish in the attempt. When he was
about half-way across he was attacked by a large serpent, and had it
not been for a school of gars that was following him, he would no
doubt have been devoured. He reached the shore only to meet a more
formidable enemy. It was a large black bear. In his scuffle with the
serpent he had lost his bundle of clothes and had nothing but a large
knife, which was buckled around his waist. Drawing his knife, he
rushed forward and was met by the bear, when a regular hand-to-hand
fight was commenced. He did not wrestle long before he found an
opportunity to use his knife, and plunging it up to the hilt, he soon
had the bear lying prostrate at his feet. Having lost all his clothes,
it became necessary that he should do something in his nude state. The
bear's skin was the only thing that he could get, so with his knife
he skinned him, and getting inside the skin, he started to find some
settlement. But his condition was as bad as before. The idea of his
being able to get near enough to any person to tell of his condition
was absurd. The very sight of him would scare every man, woman and
child off the plantation. He could not get a living soul to come to
him, and it was not until he had reached his own home, some few miles
from Suffolk, that he could present himself as Mr. Hosier. I could
write many very interesting incidents connected with the life of Mr.
Hosier, which, in many instances, are thrilling. But as we are writing
our own recollections, I shall only notice in a few cases what I have
been told by others.