The Dismal Swamp and Lake Drummond, Early recollections | Page 4

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