The Old Drummond's Mill

Whoo-pe, whoo-pee, e-ee-ee!" It was about at the time of the signing of the Declaration of Independence that this Indian war cry was heard around the old Drummond's Mill. Until this very day arrow heads, sometimes called darts, may be found in the fields adjoining. If that mill could speak, what tales we would hear! Tales of widows who brought their sacks of corn snatched from mother earth in the sweat of their brow; tales of well-to-do gentlemen of leisure who loved corn bread muffins for breakfast; tales of slaves who sang: "I've got shoes, you've got shoes, ev'rybody in Heaven's got shoes" and tales of the present decade with its rapid changes.

The original mill is still there, Hunting Creek is still there and like Burn's "Sweet Afton," still flows gently. By the murmuring stream lie the ashes of many of the old Eastern Shore families and their memories are our rich heritage.

The writer visited the mill and the old store hard by the pond and saw the counter over which goods were sold in the long ago. It did not take much imagination to see dames coming in with hoop skirts and dainty laces, accompanied by gentlemen with high snowy white collars, and buckled shoes and knickerbockers, while Indians peeped through the windows that were bolted against them when night came on. The heavy bolts are still there. Driven in the walls by hands now still, hand made nails bring back the olden days. On the counter a book was found, musty and fingerworn, dated 1817. On the first page we read: "John Y. Bagwell Store Book, Hunting Creek." On the last page: "Julius Dix, Clerk and a sorry one."

Let us look at some of the names recorded in this book: Solomon Russell, James Powell, Dennis H. Rew, William Board, John Johnson, Isaiah Justice, Edmond B. Ayres, William Gunter, John Melson, Noah Drummond, Thomas W. Blackstone, Spenser Bull, Dennis Rew, William Shreaves, Arthur Barnes, Levin Crowson and many others. All of these names were written down in the year 1817 and following. If the complete roster were recorded in this article, there would scarcely be found an Eastern Shore family that was not represented in the old ledgers in the attic rooms of this old store. A cruel reminder of the prose of life were the rusty Ford automobile wheels under the counter. Look at some of the entries: January 29, 1819: Smith Melson, 1 lb. Sope $0.19; Spenser Bull, September 1, 1818, 3-4 gallon rum $0.94 and 3-4 d. of cambrick $0.37 1-2 and 1-2 lb. powder and 1 lb. shot $0.37 1-2. We find in this book a strange mixture of rum, coffee, nails, meshean cotton, wool hats, fancy coats, brimstone, twists of tobacco, whiskey, testaments, hair combs, suspenders, mouse traps, callicco, knives, molasses, stockings and what not, all written in the neat goose quill hand writing and the peculiar spelling of that day. Here is an entry that will make housekeepers envious: 168 doz. eggs $10.50 and another entry, 8 doz. eggs 50 cents. Shades of the past. How a Scotchman would like to have lived in that day! Sugar was high, the price of a pound being 18 3-4 cents in 1819. In 1822 the price had come down to 12 1-2 cents a pound. The book contains many entries of bedcords at 50 cents per. These were apparently used by lazy people to assist them in the difficult task of rising. Why have they gone out of fashion? Are lazy people out of style too?

English money was still in circulation in that day for some entries tell of pounds, shillings and pennies. Discouraged farmers, remember that your forefathers also had to borrow money, for we find entries of money lent by the store keeper to customers. May the ashes of those who traded in the Hunting Creek store rest in peace.

The mill is located a couple of miles from Greenbush and about four miles from Accomac Court House. The present owner is L. Fletcher Scott and the miller is A. M. Satchell, who took hold of the mill March 31, 1915, his father Christopher having been the miller before him since 1876. From his boyhood days, the present miller has lived and labored in and around this place so dear to his heart. On Tuesdays and Fridays the people who have grains to grind come with their barrels and containers and have their stuff ground while they wait. The percentage of the "toll" is about one eight of the total to be ground. This old way of trading dates back to the dim past.

People who have "an axe to grind" had better not come near the faithful miller, for iron and mill stones do not work together very well. Every now and then a pocket knife, or a pair of scissors or a nut (not of human variety) will get mixed with the corn to the despair of the miller. Once a monkey wrench tried to pass through the machinery and almost wrecked the temper of the miller, if not the mill itself. Occasionally a coin finds its way in to the funnel that leads the corn into the space between the "bed" and "runner stone," but that was long ago. We are certain that frightful accident did not happen this year, for if a farmer loses a coin now, he, like the women of the New Testament, seeks diligently till he finds it.

Senators, judges, congressmen, business men, tourists from Florida to New York and former inhabitants come to see the old mill and ask questions. And why not? Poets have bee inspired by the song of the rushing waters, musicians have glorified harmony with the rhythm of the mill stones. Painters have been lifted up as they painted their canvases by the old mill stream.

Let us follow the simple process that turns golden corn into delicious corn meal. Here is the stream and yonder is the mill pond higher up. The pond is held in check by a mill dam (pardon the profanity). The sluice of the mill holds the water of the pond back as long as the sluice gate is closed. When the gate is opened, like a hunting dog released from the grip of his owner, the water thunders through the wheel below on the lower other side of the sluice gate. This wheel, which is a sort of wooden turbine, turns the top stone attached to the same wooden axle that holds the turbine. The axle, with the turbine at the lower end and the top or runner stone at the upper end passes through the heart of the bed or lower stone. The bed stone remains stationary, being fastened to the foundation of the mill floor. The top stone makes approximately one hundred revolutions a minute at full speed. This speed is regulated according to the customer's orders for coarse of fine grinding. The grooves in the stones, also called "furs," are recut about six times a year with a pickhammer. The mill stones, four feet in diameter, last almost indefinitely. One of the stones now in use dates back to 1869, shortly after the Civil War.

Water ground corn is considered better than the steam mill product because the grinding is slower and cooler. And it is a nice thing for a customer to carry his grains to the mill and have his stuff ground while he waits. No man likes to buy a cat in a bag.

The Eastern Shore is full of historical and romantic interest. The old Drummond's Mill is a place not to be forgotten and incidentally it fills a place in the hall of fame of Eastern Shore industries that cannot be replaced by the cold heart of modern machinery. Every part of the mill, levers, scoops, cogs and wheels, is made by hand. Corn muffins, corn bread and corn pudding will continue to be favorites with the people of the south and the Eastern Shore, provided the corn is ground by water power.