Delaware's Forgotten Folk: The Story of the Moors and Nanticokes 9780812208085

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Table of contents :
Contents
Preface
Illustrations
1. Red, White, and Black
2. The Mysterious Moor
3. Plot in the Swamp
4. The Persistent Red Thread
5. An Unexpected Champion
6. The Good Fight
7. A World Unknown
8. Links with the Past
Bibliography
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Delaware's Forgotten Folk: The Story of the Moors and Nanticokes
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PENNSYLVANIA PAPERBACKS

DELAWARE'S FORGOTTEN FOLK

Delaware's

Forgotten Folk THE STORY OF THE MOORS & NANTICOKES C. A. WESLAGER With photographs by L. T. Alexander and drawings by John Swientochowski

UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA PRESS Philadelphia

Copyright © 1943 University of Pennsylvania Press All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper 10 9 8 7 6 5 4

First paperback edition 2006 Published by University of Pennsylvania Press Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19104-4112 A Cataloging-in-Publication record is available from the Library of Congress ISBN-13: 978-0-8122-1983-8 ISBN-10: 0-8122-1983-X

No story about Eastern Indian life could be written without indebtedness to the scholarship of one whose life has been devoted to the subject. It is my fortune to have had his advice and criticism. I respectfully dedicate this book to him, my teacher9 FRANK G. SPECK

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Contents Chapter

Page

PREFACE

ix

1. RED, WHITE, AND BLACK

1

2. THE MYSTERIOUS MOOR

25

3. PLOT IN THE SWAMP

40

4. THE PERSISTENT RED THREAD

59

5. AN UNEXPECTED CHAMPION

82

6. THE GOOD FIGHT

112

7. A WORLD UNKNOWN

128

8. LINKS WITH THE PAST

156

BIBLIOGRAPHY

207

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Preface WHEN I made Delaware my home several years ago, it was solely because new business opportunities had presented themselves through an intermediary of a large corporation by which I was destined to be employed. The subsequent decision to move fam ily and household effects to Wilmington opened up a new phase of existence that was to bring gratification I had not known before. The new business connection was, and continues to be, a source of pride and satisfaction, at the same time providing adequate means for sustenance in return for my humble services. Quite apart from this necessary but not unpleasant quest for a living, I found in Delaware many things equally enjoyable to occupy the hours between the close of one work week and the opening of the next. What this little state I now call home lacks in size finds compensation in its traditions, people, and the fund of material for those curious about the life of centuries past. The fields along the Brandywine, which once ran red with patriots' blood, the old covered bridges, the colonial architecture of New Castle, the Cape Henlopen sand dunes with their buried pirates' gold, the Christina River valley and its farms, historic sites, and memories of Peter Minuit, Johan Papegoja, Jean Paul Jacquet, Peter Alrichs, and pot-bellied Johan Printz—all are worthy of more attention than has yet been given them in American Literature. I lived in Delaware only a short time when I was told of the existence in the southern part of the state of a strange breed of people called Moors and Nanticokes. My interest whetted, I asked the usual questions that come to one's lips when he learns for the first time of a people shrouded in mystery. Who were they? Where did they originate? I was told many fantastic

x

PREFACE

stories. They were allegedly descendants of a red-haired Irish beauty who married an enslaved Moorish prince; their forebears were eighteenth-century Spanish pirates marooned on the bay shore and rescued by Indian women; they were all that remained of an unrecorded Moorish colony established centuries ago in the lower Delaware Valley. These conflicting legends intensified rather than relieved my curiosity. Purely for personal satisfaction and as a hobby to occupy leisure hours, I set out to seek an authentic account of these folk in old newspapers and books. The paucity of information in these sources left my curiosity unsated, and I took other avenues. Inquiries brought me closer to the obscure corners of the state where the Moors and Nanticokes live and where anecdotes of specific individuals and events met my questions. Tales were told of a woman among the "Nanticokes" who never owned a stove but cooked over an open fireplace in her cabin in the pinewoods for more than seventy-five years; of a man with long hair and features like an Indian who walked sixteens times from Millsboro to Philadelphia, a round-trip distance of more than two hundred miles, sleeping en route in graveyards; of a school system where whites, Negroes, Moors, and Nanticokes each demand separate accommodations; of a court case where an Indian was proved a Negro by spiteful neighbors; of herb doctors and magic cures; of Moors who have Negro cousins in one city and white cousins in another. These tales carried my interest to new heights. One day it fell my good fortune to meet some of the people called Moors—then later I met some of the Nanticokes. I visited with them in their fields and in their schools and churches. I made friends with many of them and learned to call them by name. Asked to come into their homes, first to chat, then to eat, I finally after several months achieved the rare honor of sharing their hospitality as an overnight guest. Over a period of years, impressions began to gather in my mind. The people stood forth in their true light, and through them I found the answers to the questions that puzzled me. Inasmuch as the information I had gleaned from pursuing my hobby is, for the most part, not readily

PREFACE

xi

available, it seemed to me that it should be accessible to others. Undoubtedly others as curious as myself would like to have their questions answered, while those who have never heard of the Moors or Nanticokes of Delaware might be interested in knowing of them. That is the reason I wrote Delaware's Forgotten Folk. It is offered not as a textbook nor as a scientific discussion, but merely as reading entertainment founded on the life history, social struggle, and customs of a little-known people. I want to acknowledge the assistance of a number of persons who helped to make this story possible. My good friend L. T. Alexander, a camera hobbyist, devoted many hours to the excellent photographs which are seen in the book. John Swientochowski, who made the ink drawings, is also a capable and painstaking brother hobbyist, and I am indebted for his assistance. Leon de Valinger, Jr., Archibald Crozier, H. Geiger Omwake, Dr. H. V. Holloway, Robert Tatnall, Seal Brooks, and William B. Marye were also most helpful in supplying data or reference material otherwise not available. The manuscript was previewed entirely, or in part, by Jeanette Eckman, Anthony Higgins, William P. Frank, John P. St. Vincent, Dorotha Redman Hurst, Walter Hurst, and my indulgent wife, Ruth Weslager. Their combined assistance and constructive criticisms are deeply appreciated. Above all, I am greatly indebted to Dr. Frank G. Speck, who read and criticized each chapter as it was written, and to many Moor and Nanticoke friends who never objected while their histories and personal affairs were being probed. July 1,1943 Wumington, Delaware

C. A. W.

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Illustrations MRS. RICHARD NORWOOD AND HER FAMILY

facing page 16

GROUP OF NANTICOKE SCHOOL CHILDREN

40

PATIENCE HARMON, E. LINCOLN HARMON, ELWOOD WRIGHT, IDA HARMON 76 CHARLES CLARK, OSCAR WRIGHT, JAMES DEAN, WINONA WRIGHT 94 NANTICOKE INDIAN SCHOOL, NANTICOKE M. P. INDIAN CHURCH 124 MRS. JOHN JOHNSON, JOHN JOHNSON, GEORGE CARTER, STEPHEN SOCKUM 138 MILDRED SAMMONS, HERBERT SAMMONS, FRED OSCAR SAMMONS, JR.

HUGHES,

154

JOSEPH KIMMEY, LEVI STREET, ROBERT COKER, CLEM CARNEY 172

Figures Map of Delmarva Peninsula I. Animal Traps Formerly Used by Cheswold Moors II. Fishing Devices Made by Clem Carney, Moor Fisherman III.

page 45 181 187

Stirring Paddles, Corn Pegs, Suckerin' Sticks, and Splint Baskets Made by Moors 191

IV. Gourd Utensils Made by Levi Mosley, Moor Informant

193

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1. Red, White, and Black DURING his explorations three centuries ago, Captain John Smith sailed across Chesapeake Bay to land on a pine-forested peninsula occupied by wild animals and Indian tribes, which he called the "Eastern Shoare of Virginia/' Salt boilers were later stationed on this peninsula to evaporate salt from the water for use by the Virginia colonists on the western shore of the bay. In due time, planters sailed over from Jamestown and founded a new colony on the fertile soil. The Eastern Shore was also accessible by boat from Delaware Bay; and the Dutch, Swedes, and Finns came to compete with the English colonists for the profitable Indian fur trade and other resources of the New World. The story of how the whites erected forts, established settlements, and gradually seized control of the land from the natives has been told many times. In the clash of interests between nations, the English were ultimately victorious, and the Dutch, Swedes, and Finns lost their authority over the territory. Today, this peninsula lying between Delaware Bay and Chesapeake Bay is still known as the Eastern Shore. It is more 1

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commonly called the Delmarva Peninsula because it contains AccomacK and Northampton Counties of Virginia; Caroline, Cecil, Kent, Dorchester, Queen Anne, Somerset, Talbot, Wicomico, Worcester Counties of Maryland; and New Castle, Kent, and Sussex Counties of the State of Delaware. While the present territory is part of three states, there is a certain unity in its historical background that makes the state boundaries seem ambiguous. Yet several movements in the past to erase the boundary lines and create a single commonwealth of the Peninsula were hotly opposed by the inhabitants. The surrounding waters continue to hold the Delmarva Peninsula in an almost inescapable embrace. Washington, Baltimore, and Norfolk are near-by on the western shore of the Chesapeake. Philadelphia, Camden, and other northern cities are not far distant. Nevertheless, because of its geography, much of the peninsula still remains outside metropolitan horizons. The climate of the lower portions is so mild that figs and pomegranates have been grown by those who wanted to prove that it could be done. One also sees tropical plants and a few mahogany trees raised from shoots brought from Central America by the early seafarers. The fragrance of loblolly pine and the tang of salt air give a pleasing character to the southern stretghes. Peach and apple orchards; fields of strawberries, watermelons, canteloupes, asparagus; acres of tomatoes, corn, and white potatoes grow abundantly. The towns and farms lie on the streams flowing west to the Chesapeake or east to Delaware Bay and are spoken of as being on the "bayside" or "seaside" according to the flow of the nearest creek. The historian, in reviewing accounts of the first settlements on the Delmarva Peninsula, often comments that the folkways of the Dutch, Swedes, Finns, and English were assimilated by the ancestors of the present occupants. It is not generally realized that three distinct stocks of mankind were also brought together. The white people were the most aggressive, and quickly assumed leadership over the others. Secondly, there was an influx of Negroes which began in 1620 when twenty blacks were

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3

delivered to the Virginia Colony by a Dutch man-of-war. Other Negroes followed the first consignment, and within a short time slave labor was the basis for the agricultural system not only on the Delmarva Peninsula but throughout the South. Both whites and blacks were thrown in contact with a third racial stock native to the land—the Indians. This situation resulted in a merging of three totally different human stocks, alien languages, and particularly customs. The Negroes, representing scores of African tribes, brought a social and cultural heritage strange to the whites. They were not barbaric^ as many slave traders claimed as an excuse for enslaving them. Actually their culture was as well developed as that of the Indians. It included such prominent crafts as ironworking, brass-casting, weaving of cotton and rafia cloth, and wood-carving. Associated with their religious concepts were black magic, voodooism, ancestor worship, polygamy, and such artistic achievements as rhythmic dances, hair braiding of a distinctive type, and strange pictorial arts. Many American museums are negligent in portraying these native African cultural properties. Those who have visited the Negro tribes in the African jungle have marveled at the skill of the blacksmith, the wood-carver, the weaver, and the potter. The anthropologist points to the traits of African Negro culture as illustrative of a primitive people with talent, imagination, inventiveness, and skill. The claim that the Negro is naturally shiftless, lazy, or inclined toward moral turpitude cannot be supported. When such negative qualities are found in the American Negro, they can generally be traced to social environment in America rather than to heredity. The first Negro recorded by name on the Delmarva Peninsula was called Anthony. He was described as "an Angoler or Moor," and was delivered near present Wilmington in 1639. Anthony may have been a Negro, often called "blackamoor," or he may have been a swarthy Moor of non-Negroid stock. Moors, as we know, were often wrongly classified as Negroes and seized by their enemies and sold into slavery. The true Moors were natives of Morocco in Africa and were conquered in the seventh cen-

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tury A.D. by the Arabs and converted to Mohammedanism and Arabic custom and language. In 711 A.D., the Moors crossed the Straits of Gibraltar and began their conquests on the Spanish peninsula. It was during these conquests that many were captured and their descendants sold to the slave traders who brought them in shackles to America. Throughout the Delmarva Peninsula from Wilmington to Cape Charles, descendants of African slaves are seen today on all sides. They have multiplied rapidly and continue to do so. The extent to which they have absorbed European folkways and white or Indian blood is apparent even to the ordinary eye. It is estimated that 80 per cent have white blood. Torn from their African settings against their wills and enslaved, the Negroes were precipitated into a complex and alien way of life. Their acceptance of the English language, European dress, the Christian religion, and Anglo-Saxon and Indian methods of production is a feat of assimilation with few parallels. Let it not be claimed, however, that nothing remains of their African backgrounds. Cultures do not suddenly disappear one before the other even if one is borne by black slaves and the other by white masters. Negro music, folk belief, and the proverbs and tales that characterized their ancient lore linger on. Even in recent years, inhabitants of a Negro colony at Belltown, Delaware, observed uncalendared voodoo rites despite the Christian forces to which the blacks have been exposed. Such tendencies to revert to their own racial patterns appear periodically. Other survivals from the African habitat are also seen in some of the place names; a hamlet in Sussex County called Angola and a place called Angola Neck are named after a West African colony. Many Negroes brought to the Delmarva Peninsula were imported from Angola. These Angolers were much in demand because of their adaptability to farm work. But it is amazing how thoroughly the modern Negro has absorbed the white man's ways when one considers die social barriers erected at an early date to keep him outside. Because these barriers will frequently appear in our story, let us review their most conspicuous features. The Delmarva Negro is not permit-

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5

ted to eat in white restaurants. He does not attend the white man's churches and schools, nor is he accommodated in a white man's hotel. He cannot occupy a home in a white neighborhood, but must live in a section of the town or city segregated for people of his color. He dare not sit beside a white person in a moving picture theatre. In small towns, where there is but a single taproom or cafe and both races are served, a partition usually divides the Negro trade from the white. South of Wilmington, the Negro does not serve on juries, although he is permitted to vote. A native white person never addresses Negroes as "Mr./* "Mrs.," or "Miss." He calls them by their first names, or, in the case of older Negroes, he may address them as "Aunt" or "Uncle." To shake a black-skinned hand or to sit and eat with a Negro is taboo. The Negro is expected to "keep in his place," which is at an undefined stratum beneath the level of the most ignorant white. A white man does not walk with a Negro or otherwise associate in public except in terms of superior and inferior. Segregation, however, is not as pronounced as in the Deep South, and on the Delmarva Peninsula there are no Jim Crow railroad cars or separate Negro sections in trolley cars or buses, although blacks sometimes sit alone. The feeling is widespread, nevertheless, that Negroes were created to serve the whites, particularly in menial or household tasks. It is readily accepted by many, and taught their children, that Negroes are inherently dishonest and have a penchant for theft. Some residents do not subscribe to this doctrine, and there have been efforts to emancipate the Negro from the social restrictions. But the conviction of white supremacy is deeply rooted. The Virginian or Marylander, more so than the Delawarean, will rationalize his treatment of the Negro by insisting that black people have inferior mental capacities, that they are potential rapists, and that the majority of them are victims of social diseases. Other more intelligent whites accept the judgment of unbiased science that the Negro is not an inferior creation, but even so they are slow to welcome him as a social equal. One must not conclude that the Negro is treated cruelly. Actually he seems to lead a happy existence and seemingly accepts

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without rancor the inferior lot in life assigned him by the white man. Some household servants on southern farms are treated affectionately by members of the family they serve. One of my Accomack County acquaintances never visited Wilmington without buying a pouch of tobacco or some other present for his colored mammy who had suckled him during infancy. When he went away on a trip, he would throw his arms around her neck and kiss her cheek tenderly. The same young man struck a northern Negro a nasty blow on the face for extending his hand when they were introduced. His reason was that this Negro "didn't know his place/' To my friend, hand-shaking was a criterion of equality; Idssing his old black mammy was not. It would be difficult to justify his reasoning, which is illustrative of a point of view typical of the "Old South." Turning back to the Peninsula Indians, we are told that their culture, like that of the Negroes, was also strange to the whites. It comprised a stone industry, exemplified in the manufacture of arrowheads, axes, domestic utensils, and manufacturing tools; the use of tobacco; pottery making; basket making; animal traps; fish weirs; the administering of herbs as medicines; elaborate ceremonies connected with death and the disposal of the body; and many other elements which seem distant to us today. The most important Indian food product—corn—-had not been previously seen by the European colonists or the Negroes. Its cultivation and consumption by the Indians were accompanied by such practices as planting the seeds in hills fertilized with fish; removing the husks from the cob with a bone or wood husking peg; storing the grain in granaries dug in the ground; beating the kernels into flour in a log mortar with a pestle. The corn husks were plaited into mats and baskets and used for other purposes. The corn flour was used for pone, ash cake, and what die whites called "Johnny cake." The preparation of these and more than a dozen other corn-derived dishes required stirring paddles, mixing bowls, and shell spoons. The manufacture of these and other related utensils, in turn, necessitated specialized tools and implements. All were part of a vast, wonder-

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7

ful "corn complex*'—to borrow an anthropological term—which was taken over almost in totality by both the whites and their black slaves. Today, more than eight million bushels of corn are harvested each year on Peninsula farms. Those who raise the product and those who consume it are generally not cognizant of its American origin, nor that they are following Indian methods and customs. The growing of squashes, beans, and gourds was also part of Indian agriculture, as was the raising of tobacco, another native American plant. These and others were borrowed from the Indians by the European colonists who settled on the Delmarva Peninsula. Negro, Englishman, Dutch, Swede, Finn, and Indian took liberally from each other. When peoples differing in cultural heritage come into intimate association, all give and all take; and the influence of one leaves a lasting mark on the culture of the other. The crisscross of white, red, and black cultural patterns formed an intricate and colorful fabric. Eventually one thread could not be distinguished from the other, and all became part of the cultural mosaic of present-day Delmarva life. As one explores the Peninsula today, especially in the southern parts, deserting the highway and taking to the sandy roads that disappear in the pine and cedar woods, he finds small groups of people of composite culture caught in a maze of white, Negro, and Indian custom survivals. He sees many people living in the slow-moving pattern of their fathers, as unaware of the ways of the outside world as the city dweller is of their existence. Earlier practices persist despite automobiles, radios, and motion pictures. The people themselves are not aware that they are perpetuating an unusual heritage. The visitor recognizes that customs and language differ from those of the near-by city dweller, and he is puzzled to know why. The answer can be found in their cultural background and in their geographical environment, which until recently kept them almost entirely isolated from their northern neighbors. Anglo-Saxon influence is still paramount, and even Elizabethan idiom and custom have not been entirely forgotten. City slang is, of course, nonexistent. The staff of the Federal Writers

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Project recorded some of the speech peculiar to the region, and the following notes are quoted from their study: * In Sussex County, where contact with other peoples has been slight, many local variants of English pronunciation may be heard such as "earn" for corn, "cain't" for can't, "aiuot" for out, and "housen" for houses. Among friends and neighbors, "our folks" corresponds to "you air of the South. The question "Our folks going somewhere today?" means, "Going somewhere today, friends?" Addressed to one person, the question "You folks going to church?" means "Are you and your family going to church?" Until recently, a mill in western Sussex was known as "Mungems Mill" because it was owned "among them" by a local group. A young male visitor in certain parts of the county may be flabbergasted to hear himself addressed by an older man as "Honey." The native of Delaware uses flat "a's" and often fails to aspirate his "h's" in such words as "where" and "when" and "what." He usually refers to his homeland as "Del-a-wur" and winces when the outlander uses the harsh "Del-a-ware." The late George Morgan, author and loyal son of Sussex County, caught a few phrases uttered by a trolleycar conductor in Philadelphia, and asked: "You're a Delawarean?" "Yes." "From Sussex County?" "Yes." "Northwest Fork Hundred?" "Yes." Many of the white occupants who use this local idiom are descended from the early planters who came from the Virginia mainland. They point with pride to their family names on the earliest land grants and Indian deeds. Some are prosperous landholders and employ descendants of the Negro slaves who served their grandparents in antebellum days. Others are descended from colonists who came directly to the Peninsula from England prior to and during the Duke of York period and acquired large tracts of land. Most of the once vast farms of the Definarva Peninsula, however, each with its separate owner, have been subdivided and leased to tenant farmers. Not a few of the tenants who scratch a living from the soil can also trace their ancestry * I have avoided the use of footnotes giving references out of deference to the average reader. However, the source of all direct quotations, and the authority for statements on historical data are given in the Bibliography.

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to English settlers of the early eighteenth century. Other comparative newcomers have brought modern agricultural methods and new farm machinery. There are still numerous landowning farmers, but their individual holdings are comparatively small. Other descendants of the first white colonists are engaged in fishing for sea bass, roach, drum, shad, mackerel, and bluefish, which are shipped far and wide. The oysters of Chincoteague Island and the soft-shell crabs caught in the waters surrounding Tangier Island are familiar to connoisseurs of sea food. On both islands and in the shore towns live hundreds of direct descendants of the pioneer settlers. The fishermen have little money or property, and live simple, unadorned lives in comparative ease and plenty. One group recognized as the "marine aristocracy" are the Delaware River pilots living at Lewes, Delaware. All foreign vessels entering the bay must pick up one of the pilots, who guides the ship upstream for a substantial fee. The unwritten "tricks of the trade" are passed on from father to son. Without the pilots, who know the locations of the shoals, river commerce would be exceedingly hazardous. 'the Peninsula's southern manners disappear north of Dover, where the residents are under the influence of Wilmington, the largest city. Shipbuilding, chemical manufacture, production of leather goods, steel, fiber, and other commodities give the city a cosmopolitan atmosphere. There has been an importation of manual and, office workers from all parts of the country, but the native white Delawarean still constitutes the larger part of Wilmington's population. The native has been exposed to influences and associations which have barely reached those living in the South. Wilmington is in effect a northern city with the South at its back door. Someone has said that it lies in the Shallow South. It should be clearly apparent that blacks and whites have maintained their separate class identities on the Delmarva Peninsula throughout the years. The twentieth century finds each a separate part of the population. The historical background and present status of the blacks and whites has been described in some detail in order to set the stage for the main characters of our story—the Indian descendants. Beginning with their first

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contacts with the whites, the Indians suffered sorely with the passing of the years. Warfare, intoxicating liquors, smallpox and venereal diseases—almost all traceable to the whites—played the biggest part in ruining the native tribes. Indian tradition says that about 1667 a sailor from Bermuda with smallpox landed at Accomack. He was isolated, but escaped in delirium and wandered to an Indian town. Disease spread all over the Eastern Shore; and the Indians, who had no resistance to the smallpox germs, died by the hundreds. Smallpox also took a heavy toll from the upper Peninsula tribes when an epidemic spread out from Philadelphia in all directions. The tragedy of the Indian and liquor, which was one of many factors contributing to his downfall, is a familiar story. I shall quote only one of scores of excerpts which have come to attention. This was written by John Heckewelder, who spoke from firsthand observation as a missionary among the Delaware Indians in the early eighteenth century: The general prevalence of drunkenness among the Indians is, in a great degree, owing to the unprincipled white traders who persuade them to become intoxicated that they may cheat them the more easily, and obain their lands or pelfries for a mere trifle. Within the last fifty years, some instances have even come to my knowledge of white men having enticed Indians to drink and when they were drunk murdered them. The effects which intoxication produces among the Indians are dreadful. It has been the cause of an infinite number of murders among them. I cannot say how many have died of colds and other disorders, which they have caught by lying on the cold ground, and remaining exposed to the elements when drunk. Others have lingered out their lives in excruciating rheumatic pains and in wasting consumptions until death came to relieve them of their sufferings. Today, as a result of years of adversity, there remains not a single full-blooded Indian on the Delmarva Peninsula. It is usually conceded that all of the Peninsula Indians either died or were driven away long ago. But the reader must not make the common mistake of thinking that the Indian blood has been totally exterminated from the population even though fullbloods no longer lurk in the pine woods. The Indian blood is

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11

still perpetuated in forgotten folk who are neither white nor black nor puire Indian. Some of them are called Moors. Others are known as Yellow People, Nanticokes, or simply Indians. The scientist refers to them as mixed-bloods. The remarkable thing about these mixed-blood people is that they have maintained two distinct settlements about which little is known outside of the state. In fact, the communities are known only vaguely to most of the white residents. One settlement is on the north shore of Indian River in Sussex County, and the second is at Cheswold near Dover in Kent County. The nearest town to the first settlement is Millsboro, a quiet crossroads village. It supports such enterprises as a tomato cannery, a water-power flour mill, a chicken hatchery, and shops where crates and berry baskets are manufactured. A bridge at Millsboro crosses the headwaters of Indian River. The stream continues toward Delaware Bay, twelve miles to the east, and widens to form a lagoon called the Inlet. A highway parallels the northern bank of the river, following an old Indian trail. At the mouth of the Inlet, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, stands a Coast Guard Station where a constant watch is kept for ships in distress. Many wrecks have occurred offshore, and copper and gold coins bearing dates in the 1700's are frequently pidked up on the beach. On the north shore of the Inlet, between the Coast Guard Station and Millsboro, lies Angola Neck, which has been mentioned, and Long Neck—both owned and occupied by the large landholders of the late seventeenth century. Today, both necks are in woods or farms. Continuing up the river in the direction of Millsboro, we pass Oak Orchard, Riverdale Park, and Rosedale Beach, three summer resorts. The first two are patronized by whites and the third by non-whites, which includes mixeabloods as well as Negroes. This section of Sussex County is called Indian River Hundred, a concept of the Duke of York period when counties in Delaware were subdivided into hundreds. Throughout the southern portion of the Hundred, particularly along Route 24, are the shingled farmhouses and bungalows occupied by the mixed-

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bloods. The shingles sheathing the old houses were mined in the Great Pocomoke Swamp, having been cut from cypress trees that lay buried in the swamp tor centuries. Brick and stone houses are rarely seen because few stones are found in the sandy Sussex soil. The houses are well kept and do not differ in appearance from the homes of neighboring whites, but are in much better condition than the weathern-worn shacks occupied by the Negroes. The mixed-bloods are farmers, fishermen, carpenters, truck drivers, poultry raisers, storekeepers, gas-station proprietors, and common laborers. As a class, they are rated industrious, honest, and thrifty. Their dress is no different from that of the whites, and indeed they are better dressed than some of the poorer class of white fanners. It is their facial characteristics, hair structure, and skin color that set them conspicuously apart from both whites and Negroes. There is no uniformity in their color; the darkest have brown skins, and the lightest resemble their white neighbors in complexion. The average skin is yellowish in cast, justifying the local term "Yellow People" frequently applied to tfiem. "Yellow" in this connection is not synonymous with "mulatto" and is not resented. In fact, some individuals often refer to themselves by this term as well as Nanticokes or Indians. Hair structure is likewise variable. Blonde, red, and sandy hair may be seen, but the majority have brown or black hair—most of it straight and coarse like the hair of a full-blood Eastern Indian. Kinky or woolly hair, a diagnostic Negro feature, is not often seen. The few persons so possessed are spoken of sadly by others as having ' oad hair." The remaining facial traits of such an individual may be decidedly "good," i.e., non-Negroid. Straight noses and thin lips are typical, and one does not see the thick, everted lips of the African black among them. The Negro nose, short and flat and broad at the extremity, is no more prevalent than among members of any white community. Eye color ranges from grays and blues to dark brown. The large round eye with black iris and yellowish cornea, characteristic of the Negro, is seldom seen. In their sharply chiseled features,

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swarthy complexions, and straight hair, some would indeed be inconspicuous among Spaniards, Cubans, or Italians. The faces which interest me most are those with aquiline noses, high cheek bones, wide zygomatic span, and other traits which, occurring in combination, are irrefutable proof of Indian admixture. As one studies the faces of the Indian River people, he senses that he is looking into the past The face of a mixedblood, as it changes its expression from doubt or pleasure to anxiety and surprise, seems not one but a combination of faces. One person may have sparkling blue eyes and tan skin. Yet in the expressions that steal like shadows across his face, one can discern an Indian ancestor. Likewise in the physiognomy of, many who are distinctly Indian-like, one gazes deeply and sees there an ancestor of English or continental blood. Their faces truly tell a story of racial admixture, the tangible evidence of unrecorded romances. Another of nature's quirks is the lack of homogeneity even among members of the same family. Two light-skinned parents whose faces were no different from other white Americans gave birth to a bronze-skinned daughter with raven hair and the nose and cheek bones of an Eastern Indian. Of three boys in another family born to a brown-skinned mother and a yellow-skinned father, two were typically Indian in appearance with straight coarse hair and other unmistakable native features. The third was several shades duskier than his brothers. His nose and lips were non-Negroid, but his hair was tightly curled. This unmistakable African touch had been passed along through his mother's side of the family. His maternal grandmother also possessed bad hair, a dominant trait that had persisted in one grandchild but not in the others. The eldest son in another family had gray eyes, golden hair, freckles, and a fair complexion. His younger brother's hair and eyes were dark and his caf6 au lait skin marked him definitely as being the product of a mixture of races. Judge George P. Fisher, a famous Delaware jurist, writing in 1895, said of the appearance of the mixed-bloods in Indian River Hundred:

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I have spoken of this race as a strange people because I have known some families among them all of whose children possessed the features, hair and eyes of pure Caucasians, while in other families, the children would all be exceedingly swarthy in complexion but with perfectly straight black hair, and occasionally a family whose children ranged through nearly the entire racial gamut, from the perfect blonde to at least a quadroon mulatto and quite a number who possessed all the appearance of a red-haired, freckle faced Hibernian. William H. Babcock, an anthropologist from Washington, D.C., visited Indian River Hundred in 1898, and wrote a brief account of his observations. He, too, noted the differences in individual appearances, and wrote as follows: In person, they seem to be mainly of medium height and of strong though not very bulky frame. The form of the head differs not less than with ourselves, I think, judging solely by the eyes. Neither from the individuals before me, nor from the much more numerous photographs which they exhibited, could I deduce anything like a general rule or type. In complexion there is as marked a variance. There are individuals whiter than many white folk; there are others of all intermediate shades to the coppery tint which we most often associate with the Indian race. This does not depend on the proportion of Indian blood; the son of a very light-tinted father and mother may be more pronounced Indian in complexion than half the members of tribal delegations that visit Washington. Of the cleanliness and hospitality of the mixed-bloods, Babcock went on to say: They are a neat people in their persons and homes. Myself and a companion, with a rainstorm, took one of the latter by surprise, and we could not have been given anywhere a more dainty and tasteful room in which to sleep. It had nothing costly in it, but everything was bright and pretty ana perfect. In the fourposter bedstead, the brass stair rods of the carpeted stairway, no less than in a certain slight winning quaintness of speech, there lingered a reminiscence of older fashions and times. There were prayers before breakfast and grace at every meal, for these people are conscientious in religious observance though in an unostentatious way.

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Today one gathers the impression that almost every one of these people is related to the others by blood or marriage ties. Frequently it is unnecessary for a wife to change her name after marriage because her husband's family bears the same name as hers. Many first and second cousins have been known to marry. It is common to hear a person speak of another as his "double cousin/' meaning that the cousin's parents were the speaker's uncle and aunt even before their marriage. One of the old Nanticoke women told me: "Almost everybody of our class of people is kin to me. I get dizzy when I try to figger out how we are all related. We are all muxed up." There are a few instances of mental weaklings, but the proportion is probably comparable to that in a normal white community. One man^ aged about forty, has the mind of a child of ten. Inquiries regarding his case revealed that he suffered ill treatment during childhood and was not permitted to go to school by foster parents who practically enslaved him. His childhood environment may be partially responsible for his present plight. Another man, aged about sixty, is a self-imposed mute. His relatives say that as a child he stuttered and was so embarrassed by the jeers of white children that he stopped talking at the age of ten. He has not spoken since, and conveys his thoughts by gesture. This case seems pathological rather than the result of hereditary weakness. Only one instance of specific congenital deformity is found which would provide a geneticist with excellent data on^the transmission of recessive and dominant traits in human stock. The members of the family who are afflicted are known as "the little-eye people." They are seemingly normal in all faculties except for their eyes. The upper lids appear to be weighted down and are raised only with difficulty. The little-eye people often strive desperately to raise their lids by forced action of the occipito-frontalis muscle, which wrinkles the skin of the forehead and raises the brow to form a quizzical expression that in normal subjects would be rather amusing. The affliction first appeared almost one hundred years ago. A

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story, now part of the folklore, explains the phenomenon to the satisfaction of the local people. A father of several children complained that they were born with an uncanny capacity for seeing everything that he did, and it frequently proved embarrassing to mm. He constantly scolded them for having such "big eyes/' One day, the father's patience is supposed to have reached a breaking point. '1 pray to God," he is supposed to have said, "that my next child doesn't have such big eyes. Then he won't see as much as these two children." His curse was answered, and the next two children born to his wife had little eyes. While one hesitates to give credence to this naive explanation, the fact remains that the two children born with little eyes married people with normal eyes and had children of their own, some born with little eyes and some with normal eyes. At present there are ten individuals known to me who have little eyes, all descended from the original two so afflicted. In one case, a man with little eyes married a girl with normal eyes. Of their four children, two have little eyes and two have normal eyes. The little-eye children are not unlike Japanese or Chinese children in appearance, as indicated by the accompanying photograph. A thorough study of this situation by a properly qualified person would doubtless be of real scientific value, especially since complete information could be obtained on at least four generations of little-eye people. Let us leave the Indian River community and consider the second mixed-blood colony at Cheswold, in Kent County. The town lies on the outskirts of Dover, the state capital, almost fifty miles north of Indian River Hundred. Along the railroad tracks huddle several country stores, a garage, a firehouse, and a settlement of weathered frame houses. The latter, occupied by mixedblood families, is called "Four Hundred." The term is used ironically by the whites in drawing a comparison between the mixed-blood people and New York's exclusive set. On the opposite side of the tracks are the larger homes of the whites, while a

ARS.RICHARD NORWOOD AND HER FAMILY The children's father is a grandson of Samuel Norwood, a former Nanticoke leader. The mother was born a Harmon.

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few poorer whites occupy houses next to Four Hundred. A few Negroes live in ramshackle homes on the edges of the town. Along the roads leading away from Cheswold, scattered over a radius of eight or ten miles, are the dwellings of other mixedbloods. Only at a funeral or wedding or at church service on Sunday mornings do they gather in one place in any numbers. Otherwise they are seen in the field at work or on their way, in groups of two or three, to the store or postoffice in Cheswold. On Saturday nights many of them are encountered on the streets of Dover or in the chain grocery stores making large purchases of food supplies. The term "Moor" is widely used at Cheswold by both the whites and the mixed-bloods. The people do not refer to themselves as Nanticokes or Indians, and their white neighbors do not think of them as Indians. Nevertheless they are no different in appearance from the people in Indian River Hundred who call themselves Indians or Nanticokes. TT^eir skin color ranges from white to brown in all its tones. None has the ebony skin and other characteristic features 6f the pure Negro. Even the casual traveler comments that the people are strangely different from either whites, Negroes, or mulattoes. Indian hair traits and facial structures are common among them. Nevertheless it occurs to few visitors or white natives, unless they have traveled observantly in the West or Southwest, that they are beholding descendants of Indians indigenous to the Delmarva Peninsula. Some of the Cheswold Moors are employed as fruit pickers in the peach and apple orchards surrounding the town. Others work in a cannery where fruits and vegetables are packed "in tins for shipment to the grocery trade. Manv are carpenters, mechanics, well diggers, farmers, common laoorers, and truck drivers. One of their number is a successful contractor who employs a large force of skilled workers, including white workmen. It is said that he has built more houses between Wilmington and Dover than any of his white competitors. Another of the Moors is a fisherman—the last member of his calling left in the

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community. Like their friends and relatives on Indian River, the Cheswolders are marked on the Records as industrious, thrifty, and law abiding. The Cheswold mixed-bloods, including men, women, and children, number about five hundred, and those in the Indian River community about seven hundred. This count is based on a personal estimate and not on an official census. There has never been a reliable governmental count of the mixed-bloods because the census takers have recognized only colored people and white people in the State of Delaware. A few mixed-bloods are entered in the state and federal records as white, although their blood kin may be indexed as colored. Such entries are based exclusively on skin color. The census taker used his own judgment when the person interviewed said that he was a Moor. If that person's color was dusky, he was classified as a Negro. If his complexion was light, he was identified on the questionnaire as a white. When a husband possessed brown skin and his wife's skin and features were seemingly white, both were recorded as either colored or white. It depended upon which was interviewed. If a person said he was an Indian, he was recorded as either black or white depending upon his appearance. Classification is confusing and inconsistent since there are no fixed rules to follow. But the Cheswold Moors have no false pretenses in the question of their racial positions. When the interrogator asked if they were white, he was given a negative reply. Are they Negroes? Again the reply was a decisive negative. Well, if they were not whites or blacks, what is their race? The answer was, "We are Moors." The question of color must be answered on birth certificates, income tax reports, drivers' licenses, insurance policies, employment applications, draft questionnaires, and similar documents where racial identity is demanded of the applicant. Once again the classifications are arbitrary, inconsistent, and often unjust. Nothing illustrates this better than life insurance records. Life insurance rates are generally higher for Negroes than for whites, inasmuch as the black man is known to be a greater insurance risk. The environment to which he has been relegated is gen-

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erally not a healthy one. He is seemingly more susceptible than whites to certain diseases. The insurance companies know that the average Negro does not live as long as the average white person, and must set their rates accordingly. When an insurance agent suspects that an applicant may have a trace of Negro blood, it is to his company's financial interest to insure that person's life under the higher Negro rates, even though he is not a pure Negro. Naturally the insurance companies must accept their commitments with care. Nevertheless observations indicate that many Moors and Indians have been wrongly classified for insurance purposes as Negroes. Some who are so categorized do not admit of a drop of black blood in their veins. It would be impossible to prove that they have it. Still their position in society as mixed-bloods, with the questionable status and instability of that position, renders them ineligible for the insurance rates applying to white persons. It should be said in fairness that not all mixed-bloods are insured under the Negro rates. Some light-complexioned persons have white insurance and pay less for their protection than their swarthy neighbors. This is an example of the paradox that can accompany the segregation of a people on the color scale of their skins. If one carries such arbitrary reasoning to its logical conclusion, every Caucasian brunette would be assessed higher insurance rates than those with lighter complexions. Intolerance, both political and social, has prevented many of these folk from sharing privileges accorded to white people. A few examples will serve as illustration: One Gheswold mother found it necessary to go to Dover to obtain a birth certificate for her eighteen-year-old daughter. The girl was asked to produce the certificate to obtain employment. Like her parents, she was no different in appearance from a white person. Nothing about her appearance would suggest the slightest thought of African mixture. In fact, she later married a white man. Imagine the mother's embarrassment to find her daughter's birth recorded as a Negro. The presentation of such a certificate would have made the girl ineligible for consideration in a position where a white person was wanted. The

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mother objected strenuously and asked that the clerk show the birth record of a younger daughter for comparison. The second certificate was produced, and thereon the second daughter's birth was recorded simply as a Moor. Fortunately for those concerned, the clerk was intelligent and liberal-minded enough to recognize the unanswerable objection that was raised, and a satisfactory adjustment was made in the records. One of the Cheswold Moors, who could not be distinguished in appearance from a white man, found employment in Dover as a carpenter. For a period of eighteen months he lunched daily in a Dover restaurant and became friendly with the proprietor. The proprietor did not know that his customer was a mixedblood and had no reason for suspecting that the man was anything but white. One lunch hour, as the Cheswold man prepared to sit at his usual table, the proprietor called him aside and told him coldly that his patronage was no longer welcome. The proprietor said that on the previous day a man and wife were about to enter the restaurant when they recognized the man at the table as one whom they had previously seen at Cheswold. They turned indignantly on their heels and returned to complain later to the owner that they wouldn't eat with a "nigger," as they put it. Further, they threatened to tell all their friends to blacklist the establishment if he served the Cheswold man again. The Moor, who is an upright Christian gentleman, accepted the verdict quietly and without objection. He found another restaurant elsewhere in the city and during the next six months ate regularly in the second establishment, where, as before, he was served as any white person. Then, one day, after ordering a cup of coffee, he was given a paper cup containing the beverage and asked to drink it outside die store. It seems that someone had informed the owner that the man was one of the "colored people" from Cheswold. The owner consequently refused to serve him in the restaurant but told him he could sell him food provided he would go outside to eat. Six months later the same man, in answer to an advertisement, applied for a position as handy man on a large estate. He was politely met by the wife of the owner who inspected his letters

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of recommendation. The lady surveyed him for a few seconds. Then she said she was afraid that he would not qualify for the job because she wanted a colored man and not a white. These actual incidents, related by the man himself, sharply illustrate the unstable position of the mixed-blood person. By two white men he is rated as a Negro—but a white woman refuses to employ him because he is not a Negro. The man does not show the least suggestion of Negro blood, either in hair structure, color, or features. His brother, who left Cheswold some years ago, married a white girl and brought up his children as whites. My friend could have done likewise, but he elected to marry a mixed-blood childhood sweetheart and to remain in the community with his people. Another Cheswold man was stricken with a serious illness and was rushed to the hospital for an operation. The appearance of this man was also typically Caucasoid. The merry twinkle in his blue eyes, his sandy hair and pink complexion were like those of an Irish immigrant. When he was identified at the hospital as a Moor from Cheswold, he was promptly assigned to a bed in the Negro ward. Blacks and whites have separate accommodations in Delaware hospitals. Later, during hi§ recuperation, a white social worker who was visiting the Negro patients stopped at his bed in amazement. She said that it was certainly too bad that the beds in the white section were so crowded that such a fine gentleman should be placed in the black ward. He didn't tell her that he was a Moor, and had a quiet laugh to himself. Once during the harvest season, a white farmer was working in his cornfield with two of the Cheswold Moors whom he had employed to assist him in corn husking. The two Cheswolders were light in color and only a trifle darker than their employer, and a casual observer would not have noticed any conspicuous difference. All worked harmoniously together, chatting as their busy fingers tore the husks from the corn. All refreshed themselves from the same water pail, raising the container to their lips and drinking direct from it. One of the Moors removed a plug of chewing tobacco from his overall pocket and bit off a piece. He offered the plug to the white farmer, who also sank

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his teeth into it. The tobacco was then passed to the third man, who also took a bite. At lunch time the three came into the farmhouse to eat. The white man sat down at a table with his son and two other white hired men. His wife served them. The two Moors were placed together at a separate table in the kitchen. They were also served by the farmer's wife. There was plenty of room at the first table, but of course colored people must not sit at a table with whites in the Cheswold region. The inconsistency of this episode is so apparent that it requires no comment. A similar incident occurred at Indian River Hundred. One of the leading poultry raisers, whose Indian background has been adequately established, employed a neighboring white farmer during the spring rush. The white farmer was perfectly willing to assist his neighbor and to earn a few extra dollars by his labor. At lunch time the white farmer was welcomed at the table with other members of the family. He did not hesitate to sit down with them to eat, and showed no prejudice in partaking generously of the food. That fall the white farmer required assistance on his own farm, and hired the son of the Indian poultry raiser and another Indian boy to work for him. They were glad to assist him since he had been willing to aid them in the spring. When lunch time came the white farmer sat at the table with his family, and a separate table was laid in the kitchen for the two helpers who were of a different color. When the boys went home and told their parents, the Indian family enjoyed a good laugh. The incident is especially interesting to me because I know both families and have dined in both houses. The Indian people are in better financial condition than the white farmer, and their household is decidedly superior to the white man's, both in furnishing and cleanliness. I have mentioned that Negroes are segregated from whites in Delaware movie theatres. In Wilmington the Negroes have their own movie house and are entirely excluded from the theatres attended by white persons. In the smaller Peninsula towns, where there is only one picture house, the races sit apart. The

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nearest moving picture theatre to the Indian River community is in Millsboro. Here the white patrons sit on the first floor and the Negroes are sent to the balcony. The mixed-bloods, who are not pure white and thus must be considered black, are also sent to the balcony. This was acutely embarrassing to one woman who had originally lived in Pennsylvania but had married one of the Indian River men. Her parents were white people with Indian blood, were proud of their native strain and were greatly admired by their wnite friends. Imagine this woman's plight to find that after moving to Indian River Hundred she was expected to sit in the balcony with the blacks in the movie and thus accept classification as a Negro, although she knew that there was no Negro blood in her family. Like many other of her Indian friends, she flatly refused and has not patronized the theatre since. Other incidents of prejudice toward the mixed-bloods will be cited later as we review their efforts to prevent their race from becoming extinct. It is evident from the brief picture already presented that the folk in the two communities are living examples of race mixture, or hybridization. They are first the products of cross-breeding, representing a blend of primary racial stocks—Indian and white. Some individuals have a dark-skinned admixture, but this is by no means a universal condition. Secondly, inasmuch as they have married among themselves, they represent products of inbreeding, and fall into a class with such hybrid groups as the offspring of Tahitians and English mutineers of the Bounty of Pitcairn Island fame. The effect of this combination of cross-breeding and inbreeding among humans is not yet thoroughly understood, but in the two Delaware groups there is wonderful material for genetic study. The Moors and Nanticokes vary by family groups, and for that reason their admixture cannot be passed off lightly with a general statement. What might be said about the degree of race mixture in one family does not necessarily apply to others. As products of race crossing, they live in a world or their own about which the outsider knows very little. Because of the geography of the Delmarva Peninsula, they have been considerately isolated

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from contact with peoples of other national types. In many ways, as we shall see, they are still consciously and unconsciously observing many customs of their Indian forefathers. Who are they? Where did they come from? These and other questions have been often raised but have never been satisfactorily answered. Perhaps we can solve the mystery in the following pages.

2. The Mysterious Moor WHERE did the forefathers of the so-called Moors of Cheswold and Nanticokes of Indian River Hundred originate? These folk relate several legends to explain their origins. Out of deference to them, let us examine their own interpretations of who they are and where they come from. The legends which they repeat have been handed down from parent to child, rarely reaching print but perpetuated in the family solely by word of mouth. These stories are seldom imparted to outsiders. A Moor boy, becoming sensitive to his difference in color from his Negro and white neighbors, questions his father. In reply he is told one of the legends of origin as the father heard it recited to him during his own boyhood when he had asked the identical question of his £ather. A Nanticoke girl, realizing for the first time that the copper-colored skin reflected from her mirror is neither black nor white, insists upon knowing why. Her mother then tells her the story as she heard it from her mother. So the traditions are passed on and never die. The sum total of all of them becomes, so to speak, a "national" legend. Such traditions are not alone confined to the Moors and Nanticokes of Delaware, but 25

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other groups of mixed-blood peoples with an Indian nucleus keep alive their group consciousness by similar "national" legends

For example, the much-diluted descendants of the Rappahannock Indian tribe still living in nearby Virginia repeat a tradition of their beginning in which both fact and fancy are blended. They say that the Creator, saddened at how the Indians were being destroyed by the English colonists, promised that the Englishman who persecuted them most unmercifully would in time be responsible for the Indians' rebirth and repopulation of Virginia. The time finally came when most of the Indians had been killed or driven away at the point of the gun. One of the white leaders, and the Indians' greatest enemy, Captain Carey Nelson, was riding on horseback through the woods one day, and his horse stopped at a hollow log. He looked down and saw three little Indian girls huddled together behind the log, hiding in fear of their lives. Captain Nelson's hard heart was touched at the forlorn sight of the frightened children whose parents had been murdered by his soldiers. He gathered them in his arms and took them to his plantation. There he raised them as his own children. When they grew to adulthood he fell in love with the most beautiful of the three, and she became his wife. The couple had many children, and the children grew and had many children. Their descendants within a century numbered hundreds. One of these descendants, named Bob Nelson, made the following statement: "I say this was the Creator's will that caused this to be done and we are here today descended from the best English blood and the best Indian blood." Another group of mixed-blood Tidewater Indians living now in Virginia, probably of Potomac tribal origin, also claim an interesting story of their beginning. Among these Indian descendants, the family name of Newton is a common one. Their story can be summed up as follows: One of Sir Isaac Newton's sons, disowned by his father for his social misdeeds, left England and found refuge in America. While passing through Virginia, he sought food and shelter at a planter s home. A pretty little Indian girl who served the plantr

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er's family opened the gate for him to enter. Struck by her beauty, he handed her a silver coin and said that some day he would return and marry her. He then went on his way. Many years later, he found himself in the same district and ap^ preaching the same gate. The Indian girl, then grown to a beautiful young woman, was in the yard. She took the silver coin from her pocket and showed it to him, reminding him of his promise to marry her. Thereupon, as the story goes, they were shortly married. They became the ancestors of the present Indian Newtons and their relatives and descendants. From the lips of the Moors and Nanticokes of Delaware come many variations on the subject of their origins. It seems unnecessary to present these legends verbatim, but they can be reduced to three broad categories under which all of the tales heard from all sources can be placed. First is the Colonization Legend. In essence, it says that a group of dark-skinned Spanish Moors, sometime before the Revolutionary War, sailed to America to found a colony. They are supposed to have settled along the Atlantic Coast. From this ancestral stock, through intermarriage with Indians, came the race of people called Moors who lived apart in settlements of their own on the southeastern coast of the Delmarva Peninsula. There seems to be no historical basis to support such a tale. One searches in vain through old records for accounts of a Moorish or Spanish colony founded in Delaware Bay. If such a settlement was made, it escaped notice by the explorers and white colonists, which seems improbable. There were, of course, Moors sold into slavery and brought to America in chains with Negro slaves. No independent settlement was made by any of these Moors, however, so the colonization legends must be discounted as lacking in historical documentation. The second, the Pirate Legend, relates that Spanish or Moorish pirates, sometime prior to the Revolutionary War, were shipwrecked off the coast near Indian River Inlet. There they were rescued by Nanticoke Indians, and after a while some of them married Indian women and brought up families. The children

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born from these mixed marriages eventually became the people known today as Moors. In some versions of this story the shipwrecked men were not buccaneers, but are said to have been respectable Spanish, Moorish, or French sailors who swam ashore after their ship was wrecked. Historically, there is some foundation for the Pirate Legend. Piracy was common in Delaware Bay from about 1685 to 1748. Captain Kidd, Blueskin, and Blackbeard raided the shipping lanes and buried their gold along the sandy coast. There are also many references to Spanish and French pirates preying on ships that entered the bay. In 1717 a proclamation was issued in Delaware asking for information leading to the capture of pirates in an effort to end the crime wave. Moreover, the authorities stated that they were willing to grant pardons to privateers who surrendered to the law and gave up their nefarious careers. On one occasion, five pirates from the ship Williams Endeavor presented themselves to the council and asked for pardon after promising to lead honest lives thereafter. In a similar way it could have been possible for Frenchmen or Spaniards to establish themselves along the seaboard after giving up their illegal pursuits. In 1747 William Kelly, a citizen of Lewes, was captured and taken aboard a French privateer, the Marthel Dodroit, under the command of one Captain Lepay. The pirate crew, according to Kelly, consisted of 130 members, "some English, some Irish, and some Scotch, but the most part of them were Frenchmen and Spaniards." The same year a marauding gang of French and Spanish pirates landed near New Castle, Delaware, and robbed the colonists. In 1748, a Spanish privateer with a crew of 160 men was reported in Delaware Bay seeking booty. There are other cases on record, but no specific reference to a shipwrecked crew of buccaneers has come to attention. There were, however, numerous shipwrecks on the treacherous Delaware Bay shoals, dating from the earliest days of exploration, and it is entirely feasible that shipwrecked pirates may have been rescued by Indians and have lived among them long enough to beget children. In the year 1650, an Englishman named Colonel Henry Nor-

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wood set sail from England for the Virginia Colony. It was a perilous voyage, and many storms were encountered which drove the ship off her course. Food and water were growing scarce when land was sighted which proved to be an island oft the east coast of the Delmarva Peninsula. By then the passengers and crew were sorely in need of drinking water, and Norwood and a party of about twenty men and women launched a small boat in the direction of the island. While they were ashore, the members of the crew left on board the ship, who had previously threatened to mutiny, suddenly sailed away. Norwood and his party were left stranded on the strange island. They found fresh water, but they had little food. When they had almost given up hope, they were rescued by an Indian hunting party who took them to their village on the mainland. After sojourning at the Indian village for some days and regaining strength, Norwood and his followers set out on foot for Jamestown. The story of the party's rescue by the Indians is given to us in Norwood's own words. He would not be expected to record any illicit relations which might have taken place between members of the marooned party and their Indian hosts or hostesses. The whites, nevertheless, lived freely with the Indians; and Norwood relates several episodes, as, for example, when an Indian maiden cut off the buttons from his coat while he slept. She wanted them as souvenirs. This implies a familiarity which Norwood does not fully explain. Certainly there was every opportunity for compromise, and human desires were the same then as they are today. The most popular among the traditions of origin claimed by Delaware's mixed-blood folk are those which fall under the third classification, the Romantic Legend. In one story, a wealthy woman, banished from Spain, is said to have settled on a plantation near Indian River. Her name is given as Senorita Raqua, although in another similar version she is called Miss Reegan. She eventually purchased a handsome, dark-skinned slave who spoke the Castflian tongue, a language which she was supposed to understand. Later, he confided to her that he was not a Negro but a Spanish prince sold into slavery by treach-

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erous relatives who envied his popularity. The couple, according to the story, fell in love and were married. Their children, unwanted by white neighbors because of their dusky complexions, sought associations elsewhere. They refused to mix with Negroes and consequently intermarried with Indians living along the shores of Indian River in the vicinity of the plantation. From these marriages came the people known today as Moors or Nanticokes. Another modification of this plot says that before the Revolution a beautiful red-haired lady lived on a large plantation in the vicinity of Lewes and owned many black slaves. A strange plague swept the countryside and killed many of her slaves. Sne went to the slave market at Lewes to purchase a new lot of blacks who had lately arrived on a slave ship. There she was impressed by a coterie of seven handsome men and seven beautiful women who stood apart from the other slaves and spoke a different language. Their skins were dark, but their hair was straight and their features as regular as those of white persons. She recognized that they were Moors—not Negroes—and bought the seven couples and took them home. The children who were born to these Moorish slaves later intermarried with Indian descendants then living on Indian River. The progeny of these mixed marriages became the people known today as Moors or Nanticokes. There are several versions of the romantic stories, differing primarily in the identity of the two leading performers^-the beautiful woman and her dark-skinned lover. Sometimes she is referred to as a princess, which adds a touch of glamour to the tale. Sometimes she is called Spanish, but more often Irish. These inconsistencies can be expected in any semi-mythical tale that has been passed down through several generations, especially since the plot differs with various families. A new twist to the Romantic Legend has recently been supplied by a member of a white family which has lived in Delaware for several hundred years.* It seems that about 1000 B.C. *This story, brought to my attention by Mr. Phelps Soule, was conveyed to him in a letter written by Ben Keller, a member of the family which has preserved the legend.

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an Egyptian princess fell in love with a young soldier, much to the displeasure of her father. The soldier was too popular to be executed so the king, her father, employed a stratagem. He sent the soldier on a voyage of exploration. The princess accompanied him, as did a priest who was faithful in his allegiance to the king. They finally arrived in the New World and entered a stream which, according to the story, was either St. Jones or Murderkill River. Consulting their auguries, they found they were directed to anchor and sow grain on the land, which they did. Meanwhile, their craft being beaten by the trip, they built another in which to return to Egypt. But when the time came to weigh anchor, the priest, with a few trusted men, seized the boat and returned, leaving the soldier and his faithful sweetheart to perish in the foreign land. Their children—for the couple survived the hardships confronting them—became the Moors of Delaware. About a hundred years ago, a rotted ship's hull was found in the muck of St. Jones River. It was described as unlike any sailing ship that had been seen in Delaware Bay, and was similar to the galleys of old. This, says the legend, was the first ship that had brought the Egyptians to America. Moreover, the rare lotus lilies which are seen in the vicinity today are said to have sprung from the seeds in the hull of the sunken Egyptian galley

While the story is charming and has some of the same sentimental touches as the others, one would be hard pressed to find any facts to support it. But such stories will doubtless live on for centuries to come. The oldest and most frequently quoted account of the origin of the Moors was first given in 1855 in a courtroom at Georgetown, Delaware, in a case of the State versus Levin Sockum, an Indian descendant who owned and operated a small general store in Indian River Hundred. In the course of his normal business, Levin Sockum sold a quarter-pound of powder and shot to one of his mixed-blood customers, Isaiah Harmon.* There was nothing unusual about the transaction inasmuch as * Harmon's name is given as Isaiah in the court records, but his descendants say that he was baptized Isaac, a name which he also gave to his son.

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the storekeeper had often sold powder and shot to his mixedblood patrons. UnKnown to the vender, there was a law on the Delaware books which prohibited the sale or loan of firearms to a Negro or mulatto. Even if Levin Sockum had known of the law, it would have not affected the transaction in any way since his customer, Harmon, like himself, was neither a Negro nor mulatto in their conception of these racial terms. The law was similar to the New England blue laws, and had been passed in the emotional stress following the Nat Turner slave rebellion in Virginia, when more than fifty whites were murdered by Negroes. The fear of a Negro mass uprising spread through the Delmarva Peninsula, resulting in the passage of legislation in Delaware prohibiting Negroes from using firearms, forbidding them to assemble together after 10 P.M., and denying nonresident blacks the right to preach. The law pertaining to the sale of ammunition was amended in 1851 and again in 1852, and the latter act was invoked in the case about to be described. The case seemingly originated in the spite of intolerant white neighbors, although the court records are vague on this point. It is said by the mixed-bloods that Nathaniel Burton, a white landowner in Indian River Hundred, instituted the suit against the storekeeper. A search was made in the court records at Georgetown to corroborate this as fact, but without success. The indictment slips for 1855 are missing, although the indictments for other years are on file. Nevertheless, it is clear that insidious forces were at work at the time to compel all Moors and Indian descendants, regardless of their complexions or status in the community, to accept classification as Negroes. Those who instituted the suit resented the storekeeper's independence and his unwillingness to.bend to their will and submit to rules laid down for Negroes. Levin Sockum courageously decided that he would defend himself against the charge with every means at his disposal, even if it meant lynching or tar and feathers. He realized that this was not only a personal matter but that the future status of his people was at stake. As a result, the case was to become one

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of the most important of its day and one of the strangest ever brought before a Delaware court of law. When court convened on October 8,1855, the courtroom was filled to overflowing with whites and mixed-bloods. The Attorney General of the state, George P. Fisher, later to be elected a judge, found it his unpleasant duty to prosecute the storekeeper in strict compliance with the law. His brief hung on the question of whether the purchaser of the ammunition, Isaiah Harmon, could be proved a mulatto or Negro inasmuch as both men freely admitted to participating in the sale of the ammunition. Harmon was described in a newspaper article, written later by Judge Fisher, as a fair, hazel-eyed young man, to all appearances a pure Caucasian, and "the handsomest man in the courtroom/' Yet the white neighbor or neighbors who brought the charge were determined to have this innocent young farmer branded publicly as a Negro solely to activate a bitter spite against Sockum. The entry to the case is found in Court Docket B, page 507, April term, 1855, "Court of General Session of the Peace and Jail Delivery of the State of Delaware In and For Sussex County." On the yellowed pages, written in cramped longhand, one reads the names of the witnesses, the amount of witness fees, and the decision rendered. Levin Sockum was defended by two white attorneys, Messrs. C. S. Layton and Cullin, Many witnesses for both the state and the defense were sworn in and questioned as to Harmon's forbears. Was he an Indian? Was he a Negro? Was he a white man? If Harmon was proved an Indian or white man, Sockum would be innocent of the charge. If, on the other hand, Harmon could be proved a Negro or mulatto, then Sockum would be guilty and subject to fine. Today we can look back with deep sympathy for Harmon, who was not guilty of any wrongdoing, and yet he was dragged into the controversy and exposed to public examination of the most personal nature regarding his parentage. None of the witnesses could give the court a satisfactory account of Harmon's racial background. Not even Harmons testimony could settle that point, except that he was confident

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he was not a Negro. The case seemed to be reaching an impasse. Then Prosecutor Fisher called his star witness to the stand. She was an eighty-seven-year-old woman named Lydia Clark, one of Harmon's relatives, and in appearance a perfect Indian type. Even in her advanced years she was spry and alert and was described as "bright as a silver dollar." Lydia was known to all the mixed-bloods and related to many of them. She was respected for her wisdom and was accepted by everyone who knew her as a genuine Indian, although Fisher later said she was a "half breed/' It is said that Lydia could speak the Indian language, and Indian visitors from out of the state were reputed to come to Indian River to see her and chat in the native tongue. She was often seen smoking a corncob pipe and usually wore a man's stovepipe hat, Lydia Clark was asked whether or not Harmon's people had sprung from Negro stock, and, under oath, she related the following story as the true explanation of the origin of the mixedbloods. The story is given in the words of Fisher and is taken from a newspaper article which he wrote after the trial: About fifteen or twenty years before the Revolutionary War, which she said broke out when she was a little girl some five or six years old, there was a lady of Irish birth living on a farm in Indian River Hundred, a few miles distant from Lewes, which she owned and carried on herself. Nobody appeared to know anything of her history or her antecedents. Her name she gave as Regua, and she was childless, but whether maid or widow, or a wife astray, she never disclosed to anyone. She was much above the average woman of that day in stature, beauty and intelligence. The tradition described her as having a magnificent complexion, large and dark blue eyes and luxuriant hair of the most beautiful shade, usually called light auburn. After she had been living in Angola Neck quite a number of years, a slaver was driven into Lewes Creek, then a tolerable fair harbor, and was there weather-bound for several days. It was lawful then, for those were colonial times, to import slaves from Africa. Queen Elizabeth to gratify her friend and favorite Sir John Hawkins had so made it lawful more than a century prior to this time. Miss or Mrs. Regua, having heard of the presence of the slaver in the harbor, and having lost one of her men slaves, went to Lewes, and

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to replace him, purchased another from the slave ship. She selected a veiy tall, shapely and muscular young fellow of dark ginger-bread color, who claimed to be a prince or chief of one of the tribes of the Congo River which had been overpowered in a war with a neighboring tribe and nearly all slain or made prisoner and sold into perpetual slavery. This young man had been living with his mistress but a few months when they were duly married, and as Lydia told the court and jury, they reared quite a large family of children who as they grew up were not permitted to associate and intermarry with their neighbors of pure Caucasian blood, nor were they disposed to seek associations or alliance with the Negro race; so that they were so necessarily compelled to associate and intermarry with the remnant of the Nanticoke tribe of Indians who still lingered in their old habitations for many years after the great body of the tribe had been removed further towards the setting sun. This race of people were for the first two or three generations confined principally to the southeastern portion of Sussex County and more particularly in the neighborhood of Lewes, Millsboro, Georgetown and Milton, but during toe last sixty or seventy years they have increased the area of their settlement very materially and now are to be found in almost every hundred in each county in the State, but mostly in Sussex and Kent. From the first origin to the present time, they have continued to segregate themselves from the American citizens of African descent, having their own churches and schools as much as practicable. The foregoing account is the only official description of Lydia Clark's testimony that I have been able to find. However, one of die aged Nanticoke women recently told me a story which was handed down to her from a contemporary of Lydia's and one who was present at the trial. It seems that one of the defense attorneys attempted in cross examination to confuse her. He asked: "Are you not Noke Norwood's brother?" But Lydia kept her wits and was not tricked by the question. Quick as the lash of a whip came her answer: "I would a been if God almighty hadn't of made a mistake and made me a woman." Although Lydia Clark's testimony was based entirely on hearsay, it was admitted by the court and accepted as truth. Her deposition had named Harmon—and the other mixed-bloods—

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as being a blend of white, African Negro, and Indian. Therefore, by legal interpretation, Levin Sockum was guilty of selling powder and shot to a mulatto* The judge imposed a fine of $20, the penalty stipulated by the old law, and he was assessed all of the costs of the case. His attorneys introduced a motion for appeal, which was denied. The fine was insignificant, but the costs of the case were a burden to the storekeeper. The witness fees, sheriff, and attorney fees amounted to a sizable sum. As if to add insult to injury, Levin Sockum was brought into court on a second charge, and the case was held over until the session of April 14,1856. He was indicted this time for being in possession of a gun. The old law forbade Negroes or mulattoes from owning firearms, and again the suit was invoked by the same white person or persons who had brought the first charge. Sockum readily admitted owning a gun, as aid every white and Indian descendant in the Hundred. Therefore it fell on the prosecutor to prove him a Negro or mulatto in order to win the case. Attorney General Fisher again prosecuted for the state, and Sockum was defended by C. S. Layton. Again many witnesses were called to the stand, and again Sockum was convicted. This time the testimony was accepted as proving that Sockum, like Harmon, was also a Negro or mulatto. He was fined $20 for the second time and once more assessed the costs of the case. Lydia Clark's name also appears as a witness in the second case, although the nature of her testimony is not recorded. She received $1.49 witness fee in the first trial and $2.24 in the second. Although Sockum was pronounced a mulatto on the basis of the testimony, over his protestations, his descendants relate that he was as much an Indian as Lydia Clark. He wore his long black hair down to his shoulders, and his high cheek bones and beaked nose were characteristically Indian. As a result of the heavy expenses of the two trials and resentful at the treatment he had received, Levin Sockum closed his store forever. He moved his family out of Indian River Hundred an