Upwards of two hundred years ago the long peninsula, now divided into
the counties of Accomac and Northamptom, in Virginia, was known by the
Indian name of _Acohawmack_. An extensive tribe of aborigines who
occupied the country bore the same title, and the meaning of the word is
said to be _People who live upon shell fish_. Next to a scanty record
embodied in Captain Smith’s History of Virginia, the earliest printed
account of this region may be found at the conclusion of a pamphlet
written by one Colonel Norwood, of England, wherein he describes “_A
Voyage to Virginia in 1649_.” At the conclusion of his perilous voyage
across the Atlantic, it was the author’s misfortune to be wrecked upon
one of the islands on the eastern shore of Accomac, and that, too, in
the stormy month of January. To comment upon Norwood’s well written and
very interesting pamphlet is not now our object; but we will remark, in
passing, that this document, taken in connection with the county records
of the peninsula, which extend as far back as the year 1632, and also
with the ancient graveyards of the region, would furnish material for an
exceedingly valuable and entertaining volume, and we are surprised that
some enterprising antiquarian of Virginia has not, long before this,
taken the matter in hand. It is our province to speak of _Accomac_ (by
which we mean the ancient dominion known by that name) as it appears to
the traveler of the present day.
What the distance may be from Washington to the northern line of Accomac
we cannot imagine, but we know that if the morning cars to Baltimore are
punctual, and you are fortunate enough to meet the Whitehaven steamboat
at Baltimore at 8 o’clock, you may enjoy your next breakfast at
Horntown, a few miles south of the Maryland line, and within the limits
of Accomac. On board of the steamer which brought us down the bay, there
was rather a scarcity of passengers but among them were some intelligent
gentlemen, from one of whom we gathered the following items of
information. The entire length of Chesapeake Bay, from Havre de Grace to
Norfolk, is two hundred miles; in width it varies from five to
twenty-six miles, and in depth from four to twenty-four fathoms. Its
shores are low and level, with occasional bluffs, however, and its
waters clear and of a greenish hue. It contains a great number of
islands, some of which are exceedingly fertile, but destitute of all
picturesque beauty. During the autumn and winter its shallower waters
are filled with almost every variety of waterfowl; it is said to yield a
larger quantity of oysters than any other section of the globe of the
same size; and it is also famous for the abundance and quality of its
shad, striped basse or rock-fish, its drum, sheepshead, and a species of
sea-trout. On approaching the Wicomoco river, an island of one thousand
acres was pointed out to us called Bloodsworth Island, which is the
property of two men, who reside upon their domain, a pair of veritable
hermits, who live upon fish and waterfowl instead of cultivating their
soil. Our attention was also directed to a neighboring island, which
seemed to be in a state of high cultivation, and we were told that the
owner thereof had refused the handsome price of one hundred dollars per
acre for the entire island. With regard to Deal’s Island and Dames
Quarter, in this vicinity of the bay, we heard the following anecdote.
The _original_ name of the first was “Devil’s Island,” and that of the
second “Damned Quarter,” as any one may see by referring to some of the
older maps. Once upon a time, as the story goes, a Connecticut skipper
in his smack chanced to make his course up the Chesapeake, and as he was
a stranger in this region, he hailed nearly every vessel or boat he met
with a lot of questions. “What island is that?” inquired the Yankee of a
downward bound brig. “_Devil’s Island_,” was the brief reply; whereupon
the stranger’s conscience was a little disturbed. About an hour
afterwards “What island is that?” again vociferated the skipper; and a
Chesapeake fisherman replied, “_Damned Quarter_.” At this intelligence,
the Yankee was so much alarmed that he immediately made a sudden tack,
and with his helm “hard up” started for the outlet of the bay, and was
never heard of more in southern waters.
The peninsula of Accomac, as nearly as we can ascertain, varies in width
from eight to twelve miles, and is not far from seventy miles long.
Generally speaking, it is almost as level as the sea, the highest ground
not attaining a greater elevation than some twenty feet. The soil is of
a sandy character, and the forests, which are quite extensive, are
composed chiefly of pine and oak. The country is almost entirely
destitute of running streams, and nearly all the inlets, especially on
the bay side, are lined with extensive marshes, where snakes turtles,
and lizards are particularly abundant. Along the sea side of Accomac lie
a successions of sandy islands, which render the navigation dangerous,
and between which and the main shore the water is shallow and far from
clear. Two of the above islands, Assateague and Chingoteague, are
inhabited by a peculiar people, of whom I shall have something to say in
another place. The only villages in this district, properly so called,
are Drummontown and Eastville; they are the county seats, and though
bearing an ancient appearance, they contain some good houses, and are
well worth visiting. You can hardly travel eight miles in any direction
without coming to a post-office, which glories in a village name, and
therefore appears on paper to much better advantage than in reality. In
some parts of the country, we frequently noticed houses which seemed to
have been abandoned by their owners, as if the soil in the vicinity had
been completely worn out, and could not be profitably cultivated. These
household ruins, together with the apparent want of enterprise which one
notices everywhere, conspire to throw a gloom over the traveler’s mind,
thereby preventing him, perhaps, from fully appreciating the happiness
which really prevails among the people. And these (as is the case, in
fact, with every nook and corner of the world) constitute the principal
attraction of Accomac; for man by nature is a lover of his kind, and “we
have all one human heart by which we live.”
If we were called upon to classify the Accomacians, we would divide them
into the gentry, the miscellaneous fraternity, and the slave population.
The gentry are a comparatively small class, but the principal
landholders of the district. They come of good old English families, and
are highly intelligent and well educated. The houses they occupy are
homely in appearance, but well supplied with all the substantials that
can add to the pleasures of country life. They seem to think more of
comfort than display, and are distinguished for their hospitality to
strangers. The miscellaneous fraternity to which we have alluded is more
extensive. A very large proportion of them obtain their living from the
sea, annually bringing up from its bed an immense quantity of oysters
and clams, which they sell to the fishermen of Philadelphia and New
York; but these fishermen not only send to market large numbers of fish,
but during the winter and autumn months they make a good deal of money
by killing waterfowl, which abound on all the shores of the peninsula.
The more legitimate fishermen of Accomac, who number between thirty and
forty voters, reside on the neighboring islands of Chingoteague and
Assateague. They are an exceedingly hardy, rude, and simple-hearted
race, and a little more at home on the water than on the land. The
dangers to which they wilfully expose themselves are truly astonishing,
and almost lead one to suppose that they are web-footed. We have been
told of one individual who, for the want of a boat, once swam a distance
of three miles in midwinter merely for the purpose of examining the
wreck of a brig which had been abandoned by its owners; and we have
heard of others who had been upset at sea, a distance of ten miles from
shore, but who have regained their mother earth with the ease and
carelessness of wild geese. In the miscellaneous fraternity may also be
included the mechanics of the country, and all such people as
stage-drivers, dram-shop keepers, peddlers, and other kindred birds.
The slave population of this district is decidedly the most extensive,
and, if we are to judge by their general deportment and by what they
say, they are undoubtedly by far the happiest class on the peninsula. We
questioned them occasionally with regard to what we have been educated
to look upon as a hard lot, but we never saw but one individual who
succeeded in rousing our sympathies, and before he finished talking to
us we discovered that he was a scamp of the first water, and therefore
not worthy of credit. Every negro in this section of country has the
evening hours to himself, as well as the entire Sabbath, and, instead of
being “lashed” into obedience, is constantly treated with the utmost
kindness. Many of them, who choose to labor for themselves, have free
permission to follow any employment they please; and we know of several
individuals who earn thirty dollars per month by voluntary labor, and
whose services are valued by their masters at only ten or fifteen
dollars; so that the servant pockets fifty per cent. of his monthly
earnings. But what proves more conclusively than anything else that the
black man’s bondage is not unbearable, is the fact that they are the
most moral and religious people of the country. They are, at the same
time, the most polite and the most kindly spoken people that we have met
with in our wanderings; and we verily believe that they would not break
the imaginary chain which now binds them to their masters. We confess
that we have a natural repugnance to the word _bondage_, but our dread
of a mere idea cannot make us deaf to the eloquence of what we have
_seen_. It is true that our experience has not been extensive, but we
cannot see that the slaves so called of this region are any more to be
pitied than the children of any careful and affectionate parent. A
goodly number of the blacks in this region are free; and we know of one
individual who is not only free, but the owner of no less than three
farms.
And now, with regard to those traits which the Accomacians possess in
common. In religion they are Methodists and Baptists, and in politics
they belong to the rank and file of the unterrified Democracy. Those who
are at all educated are highly educated; but of the twenty-five thousand
souls who inhabit the peninsula, we suppose that not more than one
thousand could distinguish the difference between the English and the
Chippewa alphabet. In the two counties of Accomac and Northamptom, the
idea of even a weekly newspaper was never dreamed of. The people are
fond of amusements, which consist principally of dancing and
card-playing parties, and the Saturday of each week is usually
appropriated as a holiday. Any event which can bring together a crowd is
gladly welcomed, so that court days, training days, election days, the
Fourth of July, Christimas day, New Year’s day, and Thanksgiving day are
among the white days of the unwritten calendar of the Accomacians. The
roads of the country are all by nature very good, and the people
exceedingly fond of going through the world as pleasantly as possible;
so that each man who can own a horse is sure of owning a gig, and many
of them are particularly unique and tottleish, something like a
scow-boat in a gale of wind.
But the crowning peculiarity of this nook of the great world has
reference to the custom of raising and taming wild horses. Like
everything poetical connected with the habits of our people, this custom
is rapidly becoming obsolete, and will soon be remembered merely as an
idle and romantic tale. The very idea of having to do with wild horses
excited our fancy the very moment we heard the custom alluded to; and we
made every effort to collect reliable information upon it, as it existed
half a century ago. As good fortune would have it, we found out an
intelligent and venerable gentleman, who supplied us with many
interesting particulars. The “oldest inhabitant” to whom we allude is
the Rev. David Watts, of Horntown, who is now in the 82d year of his
age, and the substance of his information is as follows:—
In the Atlantic Ocean, off the north-eastern shore of Accomac, lies a
long and sandy island known by the name of Assateague. The distance from
one extremity to the other is perhaps ten miles, and in reaching it you
have to cross a bay that is perhaps eight miles wide. At the present
time, there are only four families residing upon the island, one of them
having charge of the lighthouse, the remaining three being devoted to
the fishing business. From time immemorial it has been famous for its
luxuriant grass, and from the period of the Revolution down to the year
1800 supplied an immense number of wild horses with food. When these
animals were first introduced upon the island has not been ascertained,
but it is said that they were the most abundant about half a century
ago. At that period there was a kind of stock company in existence,
composed principally of the wealthier planters residing on the main
shore. The animals were of the pony breed, but generally beautifully
formed and very fleet; of a deep black color, and with remarkably long
tails and manes. They lived and multiplied upon the island without the
least care from the hand of man, and, though feeding entirely on the
grass of the salt meadows, they were in good condition throughout the
year. They were employed by their owners, to a considerable extent, for
purposes of agriculture, but the finer specimens were kept or disposed
of as pets for the use of ladies and children. The prices which they
commanded on the island varied from ten to twenty dollars, but by the
time a handsome animal could reach New York or New Orleans, he was
likely to command one hundred and fifty or two hundred dollars.
But by far the most interesting circumstance connected with the wild
horses of Assateague had reference to the annual festival of penning the
animals, for the purpose, not only of bringing them under subjection,
but of selling them to any who might desire to purchase. The day in
question was the 10th of June, on which occasion there was always an
immense concourse of people assembled on the island from all parts of
the surrounding country; not only men, but women and children; planters
who came to make money, strangers who wished to purchase a beautiful
animal for a present, together with the grooms or horse-tamers, who were
noted at the time for their wonderful feats of horsemanship. But a large
proportion of the multitude came together for the purpose of having a
regular frolic; and feasting and dancing were carried on to a great
extent, and that too upon the open sandy shore of the ocean, the people
being exposed during the day to the scorching sunshine, and the scene
being enlivened at night by immense bonfires, made of wrecked vessels or
drift wood, and the light of the moon and stars. The staple business of
these anniversaries, however, was to tame and brand the horses; but to
give an account of all the particulars attending these exciting scenes
would require more time than I can spare at the present moment. Suffice
it to say that the horses were usually cornered in a pen, perhaps a
hundred at a time, when, in the presence of the immense concourse of
people, the tamers would rush into the midst of the herd, and not only
noose and halter the wild and untamed creatures, but, mounting them, at
times even without a bridle, would rush from the pen and perform a
thousand fantastic and daring feats upon the sand. Few, if any, of these
horsemen were ever killed or wounded while performing these exploits,
though it is said that they frequently came in such close contact with
the horses as to be compelled to wrestle with them, as man with man.
But, what was still more remarkable, these men were never known to fail
in completely subduing the horses they attempted to tame; and it was
often the case that an animal which was as wild as a hawk in the morning
could be safely ridden by a child at the sunset hour. But enough, until
some future day, on this interesting theme.