99% Invisible - 271- The Great Dismal Swamp

Episode Date: August 16, 2017

On the border of Virginia and North Carolina stretches a great, dismal swamp. The Great Dismal Swamp, actually — that’s the name British colonists gave it centuries ago. The swamp covers about 190 square miles today, but at its peak, before parts of it were drained and developed, it was around ten times bigger, spanning roughly 2,000 square miles of Virginia and North Carolina. And it’s understandable why people called the swamp “dismal.” Temperatures can reach over 100 degrees. It’s humid and soggy, filled with thorns and thickets, teeming with all sorts of dangerous and unpleasant wildlife. The panthers that used to live there are now gone, but even today there are black bears, poisonous snakes, and swarms of yellow flies and mosquitoes. Hundreds of years ago, before the Civil War, the dangers of the swamp and its seeming impenetrability actually attracted people to it. The land was so untamed that horses and boats couldn’t enter, and the colonists who were filing into the region detested it. William Byrd II, a Virginia planter, called it “a miserable morass where nothing can inhabit.” But people did inhabit the swamp, including thousands of enslaved Africans and African Americans who escaped their captors and formed communities in the swamp. This “dismal” landscape was the site of one of the most remarkable and least told stories of resistance to slavery in American history. The Great Dismal Swamp

This is 99% invisible. I'm Roman Mars. On the border of Virginia and North Carolina near the eastern shoreline, stretches a great Dismulswamp. The great Dismulswamp actually, that's the name British colonists have given it by the early 1700s. The swamp covers about 190 square miles today, but at its peak before parts of it were drained and developed, it was around 10 times bigger, spanning roughly 2000 square miles of Virginia and North Carolina. That's our own Sharifusive.

And it's understandable why people call the swamp dismal. Temperatures can reach over 100 degrees. It's humid and soggy, filled with thorns and thickets. Oh, yes. It is quite dismal, they named it, I think, somewhat appropriately. That's Eric Shepard. He lives in Carrollton, Virginia, and he runs a company that leads tourists to the Great Dismiss Whomp, which is teaming with all sorts of dangerous and unpleasant wildlife. You still have black bear and some of the poisonous snakes and yellow flies and mosquitoes. I mean, you still have the hazards there in the swamp.

And even if you go in with a compass and a map, it's easy to get lost. But hundreds of years ago, before the Civil War, the dangers of the swamp and its seeming impenetrability actually attracted a lot of people, including one of Shepherd's ancestors who was enslaved in the region. I've read information that approximately 50,000 escaped Africans went through and or lived in the dismal swamp. That's a lot of people to come through there.

Despite all its predators and bugs, all its thorns and vines, all its dismalness and swampiness, this land was home to generations of people. It was the site of one of the most remarkable and least told stories of resistance to slavery in the United States. African-Americans set up communities in their swamp, and they were protected there, but they were also

in a state of empowerment that they were not going to let anybody come there and move them out of their community in their swamp. References to the Great Dismissed Swamp and the escape slaves who settled there started appearing in newspapers and other sources in the 1700s, but archaeologists have found evidence that people were living in the swamp long before that. When you look at 1607 all the way to about 1660, I believe that the major group of people that were coming into that swamp interior were indigenous Americans.

That's Professor Dan Sayers, an historical archaeologist in American University, and a leading expert on the Great Dismissed Swamp. Sayers says that these indigenous Americans were seeking refuge from European settlers who'd started building colonies up and down the eastern coast of America. As colonialism sort of expanded and intensified and the landscape developed into the ranches

and the farms and the plantations and all the stuff, we were sort of familiar with that swamp, it was just sort of this untamed place. Then around 1700 or so, the demographics of the swamp started to shift. By that time, slavery was widespread in the American colonies, and when enslaved people escaped, the swamp was an obvious place to hide out. News of the swamp probably spread quietly through word of mouth. Probably an underground sort of great vibe that people learned this when they were

trustworthy enough they learned the information of how to go into the swamp and then find these resistance communities. The escape slaves who found refuge in the swamp came to be known as maroons from the Spanish word simaran meaning wild or untamed. Unlike some other runaways who had a de-Northern cities, maroons lived in the wilderness, and difficult to reach places. They were determined to build their own communities,

with the forces of nature and landscape serving as a buffer between their new lives and the society that enslaved them. This is thousands of African-Americans who totally, totally created their own world and successfully gave the bird as it were, right? To that outside world, that capitalistic world, that enslaving world. Sayers has spent years going into the swamp and surveying it.

It's quite a journey for participants in this project. This tape is from a short film about the dismaswamp called Landscape of Power by Nina Shapiro-Purro. Over time, savers has come to love this dismal terrain. It's all just a wonderful thing to walk around out there in the thick of it. And out there, in the thick of it, emerging from the dark brown waters. All of a sudden, you come upon a little plot of dry ground islands, and they're pretty good size, in many cases, like 20, 30, 40 acres, and they just sort of sporadically pop up. It was on these islands that maroon communities formed, likely a few dozen people on each one,

with some ingling and trade happening between the islands that were close together. And based on archaeological evidence, Sayers has pieced together an idea of what their lives might have looked like. To shelter themselves, the maroons built elevated cabins that they lifted above the moist ground using wooden posts. Sayers knows this because the wood that they used to build the structures has changed the color of the soil

So the post-Rots in place and it looks much darker contrasting with that usually lighter soil around it and the maroons grew food to support themselves They probably almost certainly Cultivated sort of community grain and rice fields out in the swamp I think they did community labor communal labor like that, gathering not only what they ate on a daily basis, but probably some of the surplus is to to store for winter and hard times. But forming this picture of life in the swamp hasn't been easy because most evidence of the maroons has long vanished. All the organic stuff that these communities used and created, how to trees, wood, plant materials, whatever, that's all long-rided away, so we unfortunately lost what probably is about 90% or more of what they used on a daily basis.

Sears says that normally at other sites from this period, you'd find a bunch of mass-produced goods, like glass containers and lead shot and tobacco pipes. But there's not much of that stuff in the swamp. The dearth of these goods speaks to how self-sufficient the maroons were. There wasn't much from the outside world coming in. So what they're doing is it's like, okay, no, our goal is to settle the swamp and this is our world. Instead of a bunch of intact artifacts, saires and his team have found tiny bits and

pieces of old stone tools, which maroons found or inherited from previous Native American inhabitants. At one excavation site, for example, they found 5,000 such artifacts, and even though that sounds like a lot, Sayers says he could fit them all into a shoe box. Sayers research suggests that at its peak, from around 1750 to right before the Civil War, the dismal swamp was home to thousands of self-sufficient maroons, and it also served as a stopping point for other escape slaves who were fleeing north on the underground railroad. But like most maroon communities, it was under constant threat of discovery. The great Dismisswomp is not the only example of a maroon settlement, far from it.

Wherever slavery existed, there were runaways who escaped to live in the wilderness. That means there were maroons in the British colonies, in Spanish and Portuguese colonies, and then in the newly independent countries and states that those colonies gave birth to. In some cases, maroons clashed with colonial forces, like in Jamaica, where they fought wars against the British and negotiated treaties to stay in their communities. In fact, there's a settlement in Jamaica where descendants of maroons still live, a place called Morton, tucked away high in the country's eastern mountains. In the US, maroon communities existed all across the South,

and the North, and even in Western states, like Texas. This is from an interview with a former slave named Laura Smalley. It was recorded in 1941. She talks about what it was like growing up and working on a plantation in Belleville, Texas. The interviewer asks, what did the slaves ever try to slip away? They ever try to run off.

And she replies, now I heard Mama say when she was a girl, that one old woman run off, and every night she slipped home and somebody had for something to eat and she get that bills and going back in the woods, going back staying in the woods. That's once his man stayed in the woods so long, tell you just how long he longed like a dog, you know, and stayed in the woods, and stayed in the woods. And they couldn't get them out. Stay in the woods, I ain't got long stay.

Cause the cold in me ain't got long stay. Lord, I ain't got long stay in the woods, I ain't got long stay. Every maroon community across the country was unique. Some maroons lived in the woods, like the woman and man described by Smolly. Others lived in the mountains or swamps. Some even lived in underground shelters that they dug out in wild areas near plantations. So in those little caves or dens, as they sometimes call them as well, you sometimes add a real house, some at furniture, some add stoves.

This is Dr. Sylvie Ann DeUuff, a historian of the African diaspora and author of Slavery's Exiles, the story of the American Maroons. She says that these subterranean maroon shelters were often ingeniously constructed. Some had timber-supported roofs, complete with trapped doors that had all traces of their presence. That trap, which opened on the outside, had to be camouflage to the point that it would be invisible, but it would also be studied enough

that if somebody would stand on it, they wouldn't cave in. Some shelters even had systems of wooden pipes that transported the stove smoke away from the maroon stands so it wouldn't give away their location. Broadly, do you have found that most maroons tended to live in one of two types of places, each with its own advantages? Some resided on the borders of plantations.

Where their family and friends lived, and so they would go back at night, you know, just to be with them, to get news, and also to gather intelligence. Are the maroons chose to live more removed from civilization in the hinterlands? The hinterlands, the main feature is that they were secluded, they were difficult to access. But wherever they were, the maroons all had something in common. They wanted freedom, yes, but even more, they wanted autonomy, a kind of control over their lives that wouldn't be possible

even as free black people in the North. The maroons were self-rulled, whether as individuals or families or community. They felt safer in the woods and the swamps, even though it was a hard life, full of danger, but they felt safer among adigators that among white people. In the late 1700s, white people were rapidly becoming a greater threat than the reptiles

of the Great Dismiss Whomp. As more and more Europeans arrived in the area, land grew scarce and more valuable. Wealthy colonists saw economic opportunity in developing a swamp. In 1763, a young George Washington, yeah, that George Washington, and his brother John started accompanying with a goal of saving, improving, that George Washington, and his brother John started a company with the goal of saving, improving, and draining the land. George Washington, the original Swamp Trainer. Eventually, their company and others would create a network of canals so that boats could

go into the swamp. Of course, they used slave labor for all of this. Here's Dan Sayers again. We see suddenly an introduction of a whole new, large group of people enslaved workers, right? For our broadened by these companies to help begin transforming the swamp. By the early 1800s, Tracts of Land had been clear to trees, and parts of the once impenetrable region had been opened up to new people and industries. But remember, the swamp is still huge.

If maroons didn't want to engage with that encroaching world, they could still find places removed from the industry's presence, even as that presence became more permanent. Timber companies set up encampments in the swamp for enslaved workers who were sent in to cut down trees. They turned that lumber into shingles and shipped them all over the region. Which brings us back to Eric Shepherd, the tour guide we heard from at the beginning of the story, whose ancestors spent time in the swamp. I believe he was my great, great grandfather's uncle. His name was Moses Grandy. And he was enslaved down in Camden County,

North Carolina, born in 1786. Grandy was a skilled boat captain, and his talents were highly sought after in the canals of the Great Dismissed Swamp. He was a water man that delivered those shingles to the Norfolk area so they could build houses. While Grandy was working in the swamp. It's likely that he got to know some of the maroons who lived there. While some maroons remained isolated in their communities, others saw opportunities with the new timber industry. Contact between enslaved workers and the maroons who lived near the new timber camps became pretty common.

Sometimes maroons would help workers with shingle production and exchange for goods from the outside world. But one day during his time on the canals, Grandi fell ill, a case of severe rheumatism. And when he needed a place to recover, he picked the swamp. He ended up living in the swamp for a whole year. Shepard thinks he must have had people he could depend on. I don't think you just do that and not know anybody in that swamp. You knew some people there they watched out for you and over the course of years I'm sure that Moses watched out for them. In a narrative later published about Moses' grandies life, he described his time in the swamp, read here by our friend, I'll let's him.

I built myself a little hut and had provisions brought to me as opportunity served. Here, among the snakes, bears, and panthers, whenever my strength was sufficient, I cut down a juniper tree and converted it into Koopas timber. One night, I was awoke by a large animal smelling my face sniffing strongly. I felt this cold muzzle. I suddenly thrust out my arms and shot it with all my might. It was frightened and made off. I put my trust in Lord and continued on the spot. I was never attacked again."

Eventually, Grandi recovered and went back to work. In an 1833, he managed to buy his freedom. He became part of the abolitionist movement. In travel to Europe, Marie spoke out against what he'd seen and experienced. And his narrative, Randy reflected on what it meant to be free after so many years of enslavement. I felt myself so light that almost thought I could fly. And in my sleep, I was always dreaming of flying over woods and rivers. My gate was so old to buy my gladness and people often

stopped me saying, Grandet, what's the matter? Slavery will teach any man to be glad when he gets his freedom. From what researchers can tell, Maroon communities in the states existed as long as they were necessary or as long as they remained hidden from the outside world. Dan Sayers thinks that the communities in the Great Dismisswomp began to disperse around the time of the Civil War. My impression based on the evidence from one interior site right now is that somewhere more or less coincident with the Mancipation Proclamation, these communities finally

disbanded. Some maroons left to join the Union in battle, and after the war, some may have gone looking for newly freed family in the South. Some may have traveled north, some may have settled in neighboring towns. Now, one really knows for certain, many enslaved people weren't allowed to read or write, so personal accounts for maroons are rare. It's only in the past few decades that researchers have started to study most US maroon communities in any sort of depth. For a long time, it was barely a footnote in US history.

And one reason for this omission is likely because these communities were intentionally secretive. But some academics think there's a bigger reason why the stories of maroons aren't told. I think in this case you have a good amount of racism, um, that, that sort of, coach, sort of people's understandings of history. Most Americans learn about the underground railroad way back in elementary school. A resistance to slavery that came about through white and black cooperation. The dismal swamp and other maroon communities are all about black autonomy, a complete

rejection of white society. Here's Sylvie and D, again. I think that the idea of black people taking their lives into their own hands, not wanting to be any part of the larger community, not wanting to be, quote, unquote, free blacks in the North, or pass for free in the sub-being self-ruled, and living their own kind of freedom that was not part of the larger discourse of this country. I think we still have a ways to go in this country to be quite honest with you in terms

of history, uncut, and raw. That's one of the reasons Eric Shepard started his tour company. He wants more people to know the history. He left behind a good government job in Baltimore and he and his wife moved to southern Virginia. Just to be closer to the hot, muggy, dismal swamp. I felt as though it was a calling, there was an assignment, there was a need for me to be down in this area like it was some unfinished business for whatever reason. In 2003, several sites in the Great Dismul Swamp were added to the National Parks Service Network to Freedom, which recognizes 400 locations involved in the Underground Railroad.

And, a sign at the Great Dismul Swamp recognizes that this place wasn't just a stop for people on the underground railroad. There were entire communities of people who made this their permanent home. Today the largest remaining part of the Great Dismal Swamp is a national refuge stewarded by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, who aimed to protect the wildlife that's made a home there, and to preserve its unique landscape, keeping alive the memory of the people who found refuge in its dismal terrain.

It is a strong and rich history, which should be acknowledged, and we are very proud of our ancestors that endured, that hell here on earth. Among the Black Bear, in Panthers, the rattlesnakes and moccasins, even the unrelenting mosquitoes, the very habitat whose dangers allowed thousands of people to live in relative peace on their own terms. We'll share a little gem of an outtake from Shree's research of this piece after this. Hey, it's Shree here. As I was making this story, I read in Silvian News book that the WPA, the Works Progress Administration, did this project called Voices From the Days of

Slavery. That's where I found the tape of Laura Smalley, who you heard from in the episode. And in going through all those interviews, I found this song that's been stuck in my head and I wanted to share it. On the Library of Congress website, it says it's part of an interview with Wallace Cordenerman, recorded in Georgia in 1935, but there are several voices in it. We're not quite sure who they all are, but is it really good song so yeah hope you liked it And hear the fount of peace, when the f that He is the time of the Lord. So let me tell you about the town of one. The Lord's Lord wake and just be drunk. So let me tell you about the town of two.

The Lord's Lord is private too. So this voice is from the Days of Slavery project has a lot of really incredible tape. If you want to hear more, just google WPA Voices of Slavery and you'll be able to find them. They're hosted on the Library of Congress website. say. 99% of visible was produced this week by Shereefusef, with editing by Delaney Hall. Katie Mingle is our senior producer, Kurt Colstead is the digital director. Sean Rial composed the music. The rest of the staff includes Emmett Fitzgerald, Avery Trouffman, Teran Mazza, and me, Roman Mars. Additional music this week by our pal, Ok Akumi.

We have links to Sylvie Andie Uff's book, Slavery's Exiles and Dancer's book, A Desolate Place for a Defiant People on our website. Thanks to Nina Shapiro Pearl of American University for the use for short film, Landscape of Power. If you're interested in learning more about tours to the Great Dismiss Womp, check out Eric Shepard's website, diversityrestoration.com. Special thanks also to Terrence Wyke and the Oakland African American Museum in Library. Thanks also to Al Letson of the podcast for Veal, who voiced Moses Grandy.

The archival audio of Laura Smallway was from the WPA's Voices of Slavery Project, hosted by the Library of Congress. This piece was inspired and part by an essay in the Smithsonian magazine by Richard Grant. We'll have links to all this and more on our website. We are a project of radio, Topia and KALW in San Francisco and produced on Radio Row in

beautiful, downtown, Oakland, California. We are a proud member of Radio Topia from PRX, supported by the night foundation and listeners just like you. You can find the show and join discussions about the show on Facebook. You can tweet at me at Roman Mars in the show at 99PI or grow on Instagram, Tumblr, and you. You're too be on me. From PRX.