Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1892-02-26
THE DISMAL SWAMP.


Zoe ID. Cnderhili in Harpers Bazaar.
THE DISMAL SWAMP.
The place had always been "ha' nted," If
one might credit what was said in 1.-The
quarters Indeed there was scarcely a
slave on the plantation but had Il startling
experience to relate Of the CHESTS that
haunted Graysville, one of the most ia
NOUS old plantations of Louisiana. Every
slave that ever trod southern soil is afraid
of graveyards. and the Graysville grave
yard was indeed a solemn old place. and
awesome enough to those minds super
stitiously inclined 1t was not more than
Il hundred yards from the back doorstep
and in full range of the little windows of
the room that had been the sitting room of
all my grandmothers for unnumbered gen
erations.
1t WAS not originally meant to be grave
yard. One of the first Gray women had lost
babe. and it was her desire that the child
might be buried somewhere in sight of her
window. where she might have the com
fort of seeing its little grave at all times.
and knowing it WAS not quite alone when
the wind blew ct night and the snow fell
over Graysville.
But the little grave which held the dead
did not by any means help to heal the
wound in the heart of the living. and be-
fore the flowers bloomed again in the old
Louisiana woods another grave was opened
beside the lonely little sleeper, and Grand
mother Gray went to keep her child COM
pany under the rustling old liveoaks. OF
course grandfather was put to sleep beside
his wife. and so in time all the Grays were
laid there under those grim old oaks. and
the family graveyard" SO to speak, estab
lished within Il stones throw of the back
door.
But it was not the graveyard which
made one afraid of Graysville. Beyond,
more than mile. and cut off by one of
those still. treacherous lagoons 80 common
to Louisiana. stretched for several miles a
low. wet strip of timber land known rs the
Dismal Swamp.
The place was full Of uncanny assoca-
tions--as the hiding place for runaway
slaves. the hotbed of malaria and all man
ner of ills and aches. At length the crown
ing i'll was put upon it when it became the
abode of the Graysville ghost.
True. these stories of the ghost never
for long while at least. got beyond the
quarters: but there they were rehearsed
night after night with startling and blood
curdling variations.
1t was said that nothing ever came out
of the swamp alive-even the cattle. wan
dering within it's deadly limits, were either
stung to death by the poisonous reptiles
there. or elHe broke their necks among the
tangles of bamboo and rattan. crossvine
and swinging mosses of the swamp.
| was always mortaly afraid of the
swamp, and no human power could have
persuaded me beyond the separating wa
ters of the lagoon.
OF the ghosts had no fear whatever:
but stories of the runaway slaves. the poi
sonous atmosphere and the unfortunate
cattle had filed my mind with horror of
the place which to this day have never
been able to shake of.
Ny first recollection of it was the time
one of the men came running in from the
field, painting with fear and declaring that
something like Il big black shadow had
run out OF the swamp and chased him
home.
The something" proved to be Crazy
Dick. an old slave who had disappeared
months before and was supposed to bedead
somewhere in the impenetrable depths of
the Dismal Swamp He had indeed been
there all the while. living upon the wild
piums and berries which grew there in
rank profusion. He returned to his hiding
place and died there. his dead body having
been discovered by seeing the buzzartis cir
cling about it on the farther bank of the
lagoon.
Literally torn to pieces by the Witches"
they said in the cabins of the superstitious
blacks. who repudiated the existence of
the briers for the more thrilling idea of
witches"
From that time forward the ghost of
Crazy Dick was said to wander about the
swamp, and could be seen almost any
night, "aIl in white" crossing the lagoon
and the rice field and coming on across
the lawn to the graveyard. where he disap-
pearetl lust at daylight, in his own grave
in the far corner of the lot. lover todes the
great house." The story was told until it
WIS believed by every negro on the plantar
tion and when at last the overseer him
self. returning from the quarters after
midnight. where he had been to sit up with
a very sick slave. declared that he had
with his own eyes seen the ghost, there
WAS something of panic in and about
Graysyilie.
| was a girl then Of about seventeen
years of age. and my terror of the swamp
became 10 intense that would stop my
ears and leave the room at the bare men
ton of the place. 1t preyed upon my
thoughts day and night.
At night my dreams were full of it. I
had wandered among all those mysterious
depths, tramp!ed upon the nest of the cop
perhead and adder breathed the soft per
fume of the wild magnolia and brushed
aside rs it trailed against my forehead,
the rank red blossoms of the poisonous
oak and the deadly ivy. In my dreams ]
had dipped my feet into the still. sleek
waters of the lagoon and followed the path
made by the ghost of Crazy Dick across
the rice field and the family graveyard,
and lost myself in the depths of its dull.
dense shadoWa
would wake at SUNRISE nervous and
feyfrish. and rs weary rs if had indeed
would creep under the bed covers and try
to forget the horrors of my dream.
grew thin and pale and nervous. All
the gold in Louisiana could not tempt me
near the Dismal Swamp; my terror Of it in
creased as |. night after night. roamed
through it's terrible tangles of vine and
brier ip n,y dreams
One morning the yery climax of wonder
was reached when my father. returning
home Just before day from a meeting of
the rice planters at a village some fifteen
miles distant. himself encountered the
Graysville ghost returning from it's mid
night ramble through the Disma! Swamp.
1t was only half visible in the uncertain
light. hui still distinct enough for him to
distinguish II supple. willowy something
clad IN white and moving without noise,
almost WITHOUT motion. be Thought, toward
the dismal shadows of the Graysyille
graveyard There it disappeared, rs usual.
Strange to say. when my father was re-
hearsing the story at the breakfast table.
seemed to have known it all before; and
had he left off. felt sure could have gone
81 With it myself.
This was dug, doubtless, to the fact, as
thought, of my having visited the swamp
80 often in my dreams.
The same day my mother came to me
with instructions not to visit in my daily
rambies oyer the plantation certain low
sections where WIS fond of going for the
wild blossoms and ripe fruit. could not
understand the restriction, and said so