Hog Island, Virginia

HISTORY OF HOG ISLAND, VA.

NEXT to Jamestown, the first settlement made in Virginia, the most interesting spot in that State to the antiquarian is Hog Island, on the Atlantic coast.

It was redoubtable John Smith who first discovered this place.

The second day after he landed at Smith Island and planted the English flag for the first time in the New World, he started out on a voyage along the coast, when a great storm arose and his boat filled and he escaped as he said "by ye mercy of God."

He named the island upon which he landed Shooting Bears Island; as the small species of bruin which to this day abound in the cane-brakes of the Dismal Swamp were numerous on the new found isle.

It is a great pity that this place did not retain its Indian name of Machipongo Island -- which, translated, means 'Fine dust and flies' -- literally, fine sand and mosquitoes, the two inflictions that plague the natives, and made the island uninhabitable to the thin-skinned, thinly clad Indians, who only visited it at certain periods of the year to fish and hunt.

Hog Island is about four miles long and varies from one to two miles in width. On the south side runs the 'Great Machipongo Inlet,' whose average depth is forty feet. From this noble sheet of water there branch three deep creeks running through the sand wastes and sea meadows, some three miles in a southerly direction. The creeks have a depth of twenty feet. The creek on the right is called the Buckhorn and empties into the Sand Shoal Inlet, some twelve miles distant.

The second branch is called Gould's Marsh Channel, and the third is Rogers Hall Channel.

There is a third channel near the island running nowhere in particular.

The life-saving station is built on the extreme south of the island, directly on the banks of Machipongo Inlet. On the east the island is bounded by the Atlantic Ocean which for several miles from shore is shoal water.

The chart of the Coast and Geodetic Survey shows that at many places the sand-shallows are covered with water at low tide only by two and three feet and it is this fact that makes the vicinity of the island extremely dangerous to those who "go to sea in ships," and mariners give the spot a wide berth.

On the north the island is bounded by the North Inlet, some four hundred yards wide, with an average depth of thirty feet.

On the north of this inlet is a long stretch of sand dunes with patches of stunted trees, called Sandy's Island, which is traversed by two narrow creeks called Camp and Shooter's Channels.

On the west of the island is a great stretch of waste, comprising sea-meadows, shoals, sand dunes, swamps, shallows, and mud-bars extending some four miles to the banks of the Great Machipongo Inlet. On this waste land there are patches of swamp-grass and fields of sea-meadow grass, which, coarse and short as it is, yet gives sustenance to herds of small wiry cattle.

Hog Island has several hundred acres sliced off its northwest borders by a stream called Hodges Narrows whose depths vary from five to twenty feet.

The earliest history of the place is in the musty, worn and tattered records of Virginia, in the State capitol. There is a document bearing date of 1672, which consists of a "letter patent" to Sir Henry Chinchley, of the island known as Machipongo, and his grant of the same to certain Colonists, whose names are Henry Patrick, Thomas Hews, William Mainey, Henry Meadow, William Taylor, John Harbush, Thomas Cooke, Edward Young, George Griffin, John Parson, William Colton, Elias Porter, John Cooper, David Walton, Richard Bagley, Thomas Shermingham, John Baker, William Bannister, Grace Winter, Abraham Hill, Matt Morgan, John Corry, Richard Hyde, Upham Holt and Ann Emmerson.

These settlers presumably had families and they resided there no one know how long -- certainly they must have had a different life and one in marked contrast with the Colony at Jamestown, who were many times on the brink of actual starvation -- for on the fruitful Machipongo Isle no man need work and no man need starve.

There were no newspapers in those days to chronicle the events and to "show the very age and body of the times," nor was there any local historian among the lot; so that their lives, their adventures were never known. They were as much isolated from the world as the mutineers of the merchant ship "Bounty" on Pitcairn Island, and they were lost to the outside world and in that lone, forgotten spot. --

"The world forgetting and by the world forgot."

THE COLONISTS DISAPPEAR

The Colonists disappeared -- man, woman and child. What they suffered, endured, or enjoyed was never known; the tale would bear telling and would make fascinating reading.

There must have been a conflict with the warlike tribes of Accomacs, who would not be likely to submit to having their most fruitful isle seized, like the brightest jewel torn from a crown. The Indians may have closed in upon the island with a great fleet of canoes and massacred and tortured or slain the last one of the settlers; or the mosquitoes may have routed the Colony; but if they left the island of their own accord, some of them would undoubtedly have remained in the vicinity. But there is not one of their descendants on the Atlantic coast to-day. There is not the slightest clew to the fate of these people, and their disappearance is as unfathomable as the lost colony of Sir Walter Raleigh, which vanished from Roanoke Island. Certain it is that they left not a token or relic behind; nor is there a grave or mouldering bone to
show that the white man lived there long before the Pilgrims built their first village.

For more than a hundred years tradition is dumb about Hog Island and its people.

THE OLDEST HABITATION

The earliest settler who has a real record was a man by the name of Labin Phillips who settled the place during the Revolutionary war.

Shortly after the surrender of Cornwallis, Labin built the first habitable home on the island, which is still standing and is an object of great interest to the sportsmen and tourists who visit the place.

The dwelling is built of red cedar and is a quaint, odd style of architecture, such as the early colonists erected, and is well worthy of being transported to the World's Fair at Saint Louis as an object lesson in proof of the durability of the red cedar which, after a hundred years, remains firm and sound, whereas oak, pine, hemlock or Black Jack would long since have rotted and fallen to pieces in the damp sea air.

The house would delight an antiquarian. The chimney takes in one entire side of the structure, and was built of clay and wood, corn-cob fashion, and of course liable to catch fire at the smallest provocation. In this house was a barrel of water, and leaning near by was a long sapling with a great bunch of rags tied to one end, looking for all the world like the sweeps that the "Chimney devils" of the last century used. Whenever the sticks in the chimney burst into a blaze the
rags were plunged into the barrel, the pole was thrust upwards and the incipient flame quenched.

The oldest settlers on the island were the Fletchers, Kellys, Carpenters, Chinns, Bells, Dalbeys, Harrisons, and Cottins, whose descendants own the island to-day.

THE EARLIEST SETTLERS WERE WRECKERS

There were no markets for fish or game in those days, but the natives obtained the luxuries of life just the same, and old ocean, so merciless and cruel to men, yet was a bountiful provider to her children who dwelt within sound of her voice; for many a wreck has she tossed up on the island shores, and at times the natives reaped a rich harvest, for it was not until 1875 that the Government established a lifesaving station at that place.

It has never been charged against the natives of Hog Island that they ever lured vessels, driven out of their course, to their destruction, by false lights and signals as did the wreckers of Nags Head, North Carolina; nor did they decoy them in the shallows like the natives of Roanoke Island. Nor is there any tradition that tells of their ever having robbed or murdered a castaway.

Many vessels were driven by storms on the sand bars, and the people simply helped themselves and paid no salvage.

There are, in many homes on the Eastern Shore, queer things of a by-gone day, that could tell strange tales: chronometers, huge charts, old fashioned flagons, curious tables
and quaint articles of virtu, priceless to a collector of antiques.

The origin of, and the person or people who applied, the harsh ugly name to the place are alike, unknown.

There is, however, a tradition that in the early days a vessel was wrecked near the island and a large number of hogs swam safely to shore, and some matter-of-fact person with no knowledge of euphony named the spot "Hog Island" and such is the name it carries to this day. How much more appropriate and far more beautiful is the old Indian name "Machipongo."

The island as it is to-day is well worth a visit from the sportsman, fisherman and tourist.

DESCRIPTION OF THE ISLAND

It is low lying, with here and there patches of fine trees: pine, oak, and red cedar. Much of the island is composed of sea meadow that lies high and dry at low water and is submerged at the flood. About three miles of the place is solid ground; the houses are comfortable frame dwellings of five and six rooms, a garden on one side with a high board fence to protect it from the salt spray that is driven all over the place during a storm.

THEIR RELIGIOUS BELIEF

There is an abundance of water and of firewood. There are two hundred and fifty inhabitants. It is an intensely religious community; they believe in a personal God and a
personal Devil, with all the adjuncts of fire, sulphur and brimstone. The "higher criticism" has no following on this lone isle. They never heard of Darwin, Huxley, Ingersoll or Madam Blavatsky.

To be born, reared, live and die on Hog Island would seem to insure free passport to Heaven; that is if the keeping of all the Commandments means redemption.

The native Hog Islander is baptized early and is orthodox to a painful degree. He honors his father and mother as much as a desert Bedouin; he keeps Sunday with the fidelity of an old Scotch Covenanter. He does not curse, kill or steal, and as for making love to his neighbor's wife, the idea never enters his head; at least there is no record of this latest American fashion being practiced in the H. I. Commonwealth.

THE MAIDENS OF HOG ISLAND

The maidens of this place are shy, sweet, wholesome and pure as a calla lily. They believe devoutly in the sovereignty of man. They never think of sitting down to the table until they have served their lord and master. They are as frugal and industrious as an Amsterdam fraulein. The new woman would be looked at with amazement and horror by these healthy Arcadian maidens by the sea.

These islanders are not perfect beings with angel-wings sprouting between their shoulders; their great shortcoming is the human failing of envy mixed with some uncharitableness. They gossip about each other, but there are no Mrs. Candours, Sir Benjamin Backbiters, or Lady Sneerwells on the island.
There is no malice in their words, no desire to injure each other. They are brought up in an atmosphere too pure for that; the seamy side of life never meets their eyes, and poverty and crime are unknown. There are no "spurns that patient merit of the unworthy take," no "insolence of office," or "laws delays," on that happy island; there is no "Four Hundred" to stir up the embers of malevolence, or fan the flame of jealousy. Nor is there any "Smart Set" nor Christian Scientists with their "foolish follies and faddish fools." No political quarrels alienate friends for the voters all are in complete accord.

The natives of this island are a fascinating study to the socialist, as well as the materialist. They are the result of the evolution of nearly two hundred years, and show that when a community lives a temperate, chaste life, nature rewards them royally by giving them long life and perfect content. Beyond that none can go on this terrestrial globe.

THE DOUGHTY FAMILY

From the ancient records of Northampton County we learn that in the year 1608, three brothers came from Holland and landed at Cape Charles, Virginia.

No genealogical tree has been preserved but it seems a certain fact that the present generation of Doughtys are the direct descendants of these three brothers.

The First owners of Hog Island the County records show were four men, viz: Biby, Hunt, Clark and Floyd. What became of the three former, neither history nor tradition
informs us. The natural inference is that Floyd acquired all the land from the other three. Nor is there any direct male descendant to-day on the island; a singular fact in those days of large families. It appears that the Doughtys intermarried with the female branch of the Floyds and thus inherited the land.

From Jackson Doughty, whose grandmother was a Floyd, there were born three children, George W., Tillyann and Sarah, all of whom are living on the island at the present time.

NO NEGROES ON THE ISLAND

One great blessing rests on this place: there is no "Black Peril" within its borders; the maid and matron can roam at will through its length and breadth, secure and safe. No negro is allowed to remain on the island over twenty-four hours and the natives deserve great credit for their wisdom in coming to the conclusion and for their firmness in enforcing it.

THRIFTY FAMILIES

These forty-two families are thrifty; what they make they save; and having no belief in banks they keep their money in their own homes, where it is as secure as if locked in the subterranean steel vaults of Wall street. Nothing short of a buccaneer crew led by a Morgan could wrest their savings from the Hog Islanders; for each man's house is a small arsenal and an alarm would, in five minutes, bring a score or more of determined men armed with huge ducking guns loaded with a handful of B. B. shot and in addition the life-
saving crew and lighthouse attaches would make a force that could stand off ten times their number.

Having nothing to fear in this world or the next and secure against want, the native islander can afford to take life easy; and this he certainly does.

THE PEOPLE TEMPERATE

The natives are strictly temperate in their habits, but if the food which goes down the throats of the Hog Islander had to be paid for at city prices most of them would be bankrupt.

Some few of them will take an occasional drink, like the Methodist preacher whom President Lincoln told about. It seems that the minister, in company with several laymen, was invited, after service at a country meeting house, to go home with one of the elders. It was a very cold day and when they reached the house, they were asked by the host to take a drink. The minister whose teeth were chattering with cold, said he would take a glass of water, but whispered to the host that he would not object to a little whiskey, if it could be put in the glass unbeknownst to him.

Among the older residents of Hog Island is Mrs. Lizzie Philipps. She owns a large number of cattle, sheep and hogs; and is often seen standing by the corner of her log cabin calling her stock; and more frequently, tramping over the meadows, through mud and water ankle deep, driving her herd homeward.

THE WELL-TO-DO ISLANDERS

There are, all told, forty-two dwellings on the island, and every householder is well-to-do. Every year the island exports 150,000 bushels of oysters, the average price being fifty cents a bushel. The fish and game bring as much more; and aside from this, the life-saving station and lighthouse employees receive liberal wages; making the income of each householder fully $750 per annum. And this amount is never spent. In this community there is not a man who is in debt. Their wants are few, the change of fashions is unnoticed; a suit of store-clothes for Sunday will last for years; they wear the best of oilskin and rubber boots, but the luxuries of life, such as jewelry, pianos, upholsteries, mural decorations -- they know nothing of.

Every man is a carpenter in his way; but the plumber, the lawyer, the soldier, the merchant and the tradesman or policeman would starve if they lived on that island; and wonderful as it seems there is no doctor and the people die only of old age. The community is as peaceful as the inhabitants of Rasselas' Happy Valley. There is no justice of the peace, no constable, no machinery of the law, for amongst this law-abiding, God-fearing set, there has not been a crime committed within the memory of man. A single incident will serve to illustrate better than an epic poem the incorruptible, genuine morality of these people.

It is doubtful if this incident has a parallel in any other community in the Union.

SAMUEL KELLY THE MISER

There died on the island a few months ago an aged citizen named Samuel Kelly, aged 82 years. Even when a boy he showed a decided bent for making money, and keeping it also. When he reached manhood he united the characteristics of Daniel Dancer, the miser, and that of the famous Captain Kidd; for he hoarded his money, and then buried it.

Sam Kelly became the most unique character on the island. He established a little store, but paradoxical as it may seem he could never be found there; no man's foot was allowed to cross the threshold.

The owner would call on the natives every morning, get their orders, and deliver the goods in the evening. There never lived a more thorough miser. He visited nobody, never entered a church, never gave a cent to charity, never had a decent coat on his back in all his life, and probably never sat down to a well-prepared meal.

As there was no other store on the island, his neighbors knew that he must be making money and hoarding it. Every man, woman and child was aware that there must be a fortune hid away somewhere in his cabin, for some of his neighbors had caught a passing glimpse through the window of the miser gloating over a great pile of gold coin.

Of all the passions that move men, none found lodgment in the being of this singular man. Neither affection, friendship or even love, ever stirred him out of himself, and like Sir Galahad, he could truly say:

"My knees have bowed 'fore crypt and shrine,

I never touched a maiden's lips, or, held maidens hand in mine"

As the years glided by the hoard increased. Never spending a cent, and saving every dollar, it was a matter of much speculation among his neighbors as to how much he was worth.

The talk was all among themselves; they never breathed a word of old Sam Kelly's hoard to the fishermen and lightermen who stopped at the island. It is marvelous that a decrepit, defenceless miser should live in a dilapidated cabin for years, his gold unsecured by safe, vault, or strong box, easy for the first strong hand to clutch, and yet there was never a single attempt made to rob him. It would have been easy and safe to overpower the septuagenarian, seize his treasure and sail away from the island.

Samuel Kelly lived to see nearly all of his contemporaries buried, and that "Fell sergeant Death, so strict in his arrest," seemed to have forgotten him, but at last he was summoned to appear before the bar. On his deathbed his friends and only surviving relative besought him to reveal the secret of the hiding place; but the ruling passion was strong in death. Shrouds have no pockets, but if the miser could not carry his treasure with him, no one else should, and soon he died carrying his secret to the grave. The house was searched, and under the counter in his little store was found two boxes, one containing three thousand dollars in gold, the other, two thousand in currency. Then a thorough hunt was organized and every possible or likely spot was examined but not another cent was ever discovered. His only relative and heir was his sister, ninety-four years of age.

As the sands of Neversink keep secure the ill-gotten gains of Captain Kidd, so the shoals and sand of Hog Island hide from mortal eyes the thousands and thousands of dollars hidden away by Sam Kelly, the miser.

UNCLE JOHNNY DOUGHTY

A wiser man than Samuel Kelly is Uncle Johnny Doughty, who worked only when he was obliged to, courted every pretty girl he met, spent his money as fast as he made it, and now, at the age of 86 years, is so full of vitality that he takes his sailboat and all alone goes miles out to sea on his fishing trips.

It is a current saying with the islanders that "Uncle Johnny was not born to die, and that the Angel Gabriel will have to kill him at last."

In 1853 the Government established the first lighthouse on the island.

During the Civil War all of the islanders were true to their native State of Virginia, and it is safe to say that the gleam of the Hog Island light did not flash across the waters during the whole four years of internecine strife.

THE LIGHTHOUSE

In 1892 a new lighthouse, costing $100,000, was built; the tower being 190 feet from base to summit. This structure, with the keeper's dwelling, are the finest of the kind on the Atlantic coast.

Mr. Doughty, the head-keeper, has held his position for twenty years and no man stands higher in the estimation of the Lighthouse Board.

One fact worth nothing in connection with this tower is the great number of wild fowls that dash themselves to pieces against it during stormy nights. In their migrations, the birds insensibly head for the light, and as the lantern turns on a pivot and flashes every forty-five seconds the extreme glare blinds and bewilders them, and they strike with such force against the reflector that sometimes every bone in their body is smashed. Often in the morning after a storm, over a hundred dead birds have been picked up, and there are more killed in this way than by the sportsmen. The force of the impact of these birds, driving on the pinions of the wind seventy miles an hour, striking the lantern incased in thick glass, was so great that they have been known to shatter a three inch lens.

The government, taught by experience, now encases the light in a thick wire netting.

HOG ISLAND AS A SPORTING GROUND

Hog Island is, at certain seasons of the year, ideal ground for the sportsman. Machipongo Inlet and its channels is a famous feeding ground of the wild geese and that king of wild fowl, the brant, and the marshes abound with black duck. In the spring and summer the curlew, willet, and graybacks flock to the oyster shoals and ponds in the meadows. Fine
bags can be made of these delicious birds that have all the flavor of the salt crustaceans on which they feed.

In the creeks, channels, inlets and ocean are found every variety of fish. The delicious hog fish and sheepshead are found in abundance. Fine fishing is the rule and not the exception.

The marshes abound in soft crabs. On the sandy beach the clams are taken in numbers either to fill a canoe or ship. And then the diamond back terrapin has its home in the creeks that run through the swamps and estuaries that border the place. Indeed Nature has so bountifully endowed Hog Island that it discounts the fabled isle of Calypso.

The soil of the island is very productive. Vegetables grow there in tropical profusion, and the melons and cantaloupes would carry off the prize at any county fair. In addition to these delicacies the islanders raise cattle, sheep, hogs and fowls, so that with all these creature-comforts, there is no gourmand or bon vivant whose table is more luxuriously supplied than those of the natives of Hog Island.

The law allowing the shooting of wild fowl only on alternate days and from sun up to sun down, has put a stop to the indiscriminate slaughter of that noblest of wild birds, the brant, by brainless clubmen, unprincipled pot hunters and market gunners, but there is no law that can prevent the brant from driving full tilt into the lighthouse tower, except indeed, to abolish the lighthouse, and surely the most enthusiastic game protectionist would hardly advocate such a radical measure.

It is most singular that Hog Island, possessing so many superior attractions, should have remained so long unnoticed. Were it situated a hundred miles further north, near the populous cities, it would doubtless have become one of the most famous resorts of the New World. Atlantic City, Cape May and Asbury Park all sink into insignificance when compared with this favored isle.

FINE BATHING BEACH

Imagine a bathing beach five miles long, where the shore of firm sand slopes gradually into the ocean; where there is no under-tow, and no treacherous holes or chasms, such as are the terror of the visitors of many watering places on the Atlantic coast, and which every season claim their victims.

Hog Island is remarkable in more ways than one. Of the forty-two dwellings thereon, each household has an average of six persons. There is one church which was built in 1880. Two stores, one school and a hotel; the latter is a wooden structure, of the modern style so common at Atlantic City and Cape May.

The Sportsman's Club, owing to a lack of harmony amongst its members, has not proven a success.

THE SCHOOLS

The school is excellent, and the thirty-four pupils enrolled are instructed in all the branches that constitute a sound knowledge of the tree Rs. There is also a Sunday-school where
the good old orthodox religion of our forefathers is instilled in the growing minds of the young.

While the natives are shy and reticent in their intercourse with strangers, they do not object to men of moral character buying land and settling upon the island.

PRICE OF LAND

The price varies. For low grazing land $25 to $30 is charged; for good building sites, $125 per acre is the price.

AUNT HARRIET DOUGHTY

Among the more prominent characters of the island was Mrs. Harriet Doughty, who died in the year 1896. She was the mother of Captain Doughty, the lighthouse keeper. Mrs. Doughty (or Aunt Harriet, as she was affectionately called) was a woman nobly planned, with all the virtues that ennoble womanhood; sweet tempered, kind and hospitable, she was the oracle of the island, and her memory is treasured along with the traditions of the place; and when she was laid to her final rest, mother earth never took unto her embrace a more devoted wife, or a kinder or more careful mother.

THE WAY TO GET TO THE ISLAND

Hog Island is easy of access. Cape Charles station, on the P. & N. R. R., is the nearest point, being about fifteen miles distant. The U S. mail steamers transport passengers across the broadwater to that point

The hotel, erected by Mrs. Stockton, of Atlantic City, is open all the year for the accommodation of tourists, sportsmen and other visitors.

Most of the prominent sportsmen of the North pay an occasional visit to the island to shoot bay birds and wild fowl.

For many years it has been the favorite rendezvous of Ex-President Cleveland and his coterie of choice spirits.

TOWER IN A STORM

There is one fact concerning the lighthouse tower that only a scientist can explain: the tall shaft vibrates inside but not outside. During a storm the keeper has to remain seated, as the vibrations are so great that he cannot walk across the floor without falling; yet the outside does not vibrate the hundredth part of an inch.

The largest land-holders at the present time are Capt. George W. Doughty, Nancy Kelly and Mr. Ferrill, of Philadelphia.

THE GREAT STORM AT HOG ISLAND

On October 10, 1903, Hog Island had an experience that has never occurred since the sea cast it up from the bowels of the deep. Tradition tells of high tides, and tidal waves like the one in 1888, which engulfed Cobb's Island but a few miles away; but never before has the whole of Hog Island disappeared from view as it did in October, leaving not one inch of natural land visible.

The storm began in the morning and lasted four days, with the wind blowing a gale from the northeast, and the tide
rising steadily. The booming of the surf, the pounding, beating, and dashing of the great billows, striking the shore with terrific force, seemed as if the island must be shivered, shattered, and disintegrated by the impact. The ocean, the islanders' staunch friend, which had ever yielded them a bountiful support, now arose in its wrath, and like a hungry lion, sought to devour them. Slowly, hour by hour the sea advanced, and the white-capped waves, like lines of cavalry, followed each other in wild charges across the sea-meadows, then attacking the island, they scaled the banks and advanced inland, each line coming with a rush and scream, and then going to pieces on the solid ground; but the reserves follow behind each line, making some advance until they reach the high ground in the center of the island, where the lighthouse stands; and now the ocean sends its heaviest cohorts, and they dash upon this spot, as the phalanx of Moslem upon the high hill of Acre; or Pickett upon the heights of Gettysburg.

As the waves leap forward they enter the rooms of the houses, they drown the stock, and the terrorized people hurry into their boats, and fly to the light tower for safety, Then with one mighty effort, the sea bursts its bounds, and closes on the island, and its waters roll across; Hog Island is out of sight, the water being a foot deep at its highest point. Fortunately no lives were lost, there was no panic, and the clear-headed, steady-nerved islanders acted coolly and carefully, and when the storm had exhausted itself, and the waters receded, it was found that no great damage had been down, only much stock had been lost

There came near being a tragedy near by, however, for the three-mast schooner, "Benjamin Russell," loaded with lumber, was lost on Pig Island, near Hog Island, during the storm. The vessel took a cargo of lumber from Coke Inlet, N. C., and was bound to New York, when the storm came down on her. When twenty miles off Sandy Hook, N. Y., the captain, seeing that his vessel could not enter the port of New York, had to scud southward for sixty-four hours. He was on the sea with wind blowing fifty miles an hour, and the sea rolling mountain-height, without anything to eat, or any sleep. At eleven o'clock on the second day out, he reached the coast of Hog Island, mistaking it for Chincoteague Island, and knowing that there was a good harbor in Thomas Cove, thought that he might reach it and save his vessel; but to his great surprise, when the fog lifted, he found that he had entered Hog Island Inlet and before he could put his vessel about, he ran ashore on Pig Island. Although the storm was raging its worst, Capt. J. E. Johnson, of the Life Saving Station, immediately launched the life-boat, and with his crew of stalwart surfmen, in less than half an hour, was alongside of the stranded vessel to save its crew from a watery grave.

There have been many wrecked vessels, where the captain and crew of the life-savers judged that a rescue, in the teeth of a raging storm, was hopeless; and that it would be folly to imperil precious lives in a chance of rescue. The extreme danger, in attempting to go to the assistance of the "Benjamin Russell," would have justified Captain Johnson in waiting
until the storm subsided before launching his boats; but to do and to dare was his watchword, and with consummate management he brought every shipwrecked sailor safe to land. If a soldier or sailor performs an act of heroism, he is rewarded, but the men of the coastguard, often throw a dice with death, with no recompense save the approval of their own conscience.

SAND FLIES AND MOSQUITOES

Hog Island might be compared to Eden of old: that primeval garden had its snake, whereas this gem of the Atlantic coast has its mosquito, which, by the way, differs from its New Jersey cousin in size; it is larger but more sluggish and tarries longer. When an island mosquito alights and begins its meal, there it remains until it has finished. You may kill him but you can never scare him.

There are sand flies also; the most pestiferous insects that ever afflicted humanity. After a heavy rain in summer and fall, both of these species arrive from their breeding places in the ponds of the sea-meadows and, wafted by a slow breeze across the inlets to the island, they come in veritable swarms; the natives retire into their houses, close the doors and windows and put up the mosquito blinds. The dogs burrow in their deepest holes under the stables; the cattle wade out in the sea until the water reaches their necks; and the only comfortable beings on the island are the lighthouse keepers and their families, who from their lofty post on the tower's summit, can look down upon the myriads of ravening insects
whose fragile wings cannot carry their bodies over a score of feet over the earth.

The islanders do not attach much importance to them, but to the visitor they are an infliction. Fortunately they do not transmit disease as every body is of sound mind and body in their vicinity; they simply bite, but leave no germs to fructify or multiply.

The proprietor of the hotel tried to abate the nuisance by sprinkling the ponds around the building with kerosene oil, but without any marked success. Even if the island was freed from their presence the soft wind would bring them from the swamps and meadows across the water; therefore it seems that in the far future, as in the past, the inhabitants of Hog Island will marry, have children and go on in the even tenor of their way; "a kingdom unto themselves" with no mixture of foreign or alien blood. It is better so, if happiness is the chief and only aim of existence; and these people by the sea, all unknowing of the evils that arise from "man's inhumanity to man," live their simple, calm and tranquil lives as happy as mortals can be in this weary old world.

"Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,

Their sober wishes never learned to stray;

Along the cool sequestered vale of life

They keep the noiseless tenor of their way."

The daily life of the Islanders is simple and healthful. They are early risers, getting up with the sun, and the men at once proceed to the wharf and getting into their boats, spend an hour or so gathering oysters, and return with a wholesome
appetite; how many dozen oysters they eat is not known. After the matutinal meal, they return to the sea for fishing and oystering.

These Islanders have no fixed time for meals. The women are famous housewives, and every cottage has a stove and the meals are always kept warm; as the men are not epicures, there are no family jars on account of "cold vitals."

The gathering place for the patriarchs of the Island is the village store and as there is nothing stronger than Northampton cider to be had, the proceedings are not hilarious. The state of the water is the main subject of discussion, and after exhausting that topic, they wend their way homeward and retire between eight o'clock and nine o'clock and sleep the sleep of the just.

The young people enjoy themselves in a quiet way; there are several good fiddlers on the place, and they get up what they call "Swamp Angel" parties, and they will "trip the light fantastic toe" until 10 P.M.

"Let not ambition mock their useful toil,

Nor homely joys, and destiny obscure,

Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile

The short and simple annals of the poor."

THE ISLANDERS AND THEIR FAMILIES

On November 1, 1903, the following is the list of families on Hog Island:

"Capt. Geo. W. Doughty, wife & two children; one girl & boy," Albert & Bertie.

"Capt. B. T. Bowen, wife & 4 children," one girl, 3 boys, "Harry" Thomas "Russell & Emma."

"Capt. Coon Philipps & wife".

Geo. E. Doughty & wife.

Sam Doughty & wife, 2 children; 1 girl, 1 boy, "Masey & Garland".

Chas. Doughty, wife, two children; 1 girl, 1 boy, Sarrah, Wilbert.

Miss Lizzie Philipps & "Brother, & one child," Ray.

Shefford Doughty, wife, two boys, " Archie," Shefford, Jr.

Capt. Neal Johnson, wife & 5 children; two girls, 3 boys, " Massy," Carrie, "John," Bartine, "Wm."

Capt. Geo. Johnson, one daughter "Christene."

Washington Carpenter & wife.

Richard Carpenter, wife, 6 children; 4 girls, "Bettie," Grisceder, "Massy," Noria ; 2 boys, "Willie, " Elis.

Edward Doughty, wife & 4 children ; 2 girls, " Lottie" & "Elthel," 2 boys, "Chas.," Samuel.

James Simpson, wife, 7 children ; 2 boys & 5 girls, " Vernan" & "Albert," "Hallie, "Essie," "Eva," "Fannie," "Massy".

Jacob Hudson & wife, 1 child; girl, "Alis".

James Philipps, wife, 3 children; 2 boys, 1 girl, "Cereader," "Herbert," Stanly.

A. H. Marsh, wife, 3 boys, "Carl," Herman, "Arthur."

Fred Marsh, wife, 3 children ; 1 boy, 2 girls, " Lilly," "Janie," Ernest.

Mrs. Nancy Kelly & daughter, "Peggy."

Miss Tillyann Doughty & sister "Sarrah."

Mr. G. P. Hudgins, wife, two children; boys, "Carl," "Linwood".

Geo. A. Melvin & wife, 5 children ; 1 boy, 4 girls, "John," "Loue, "Minny," "Georgie," Jenny.

Wm. A. Miles, wife, 2 children ; both girls, "Mabel," "Eveyline."

John H. Robbins, wife, dead, 4 children ; 2 girls, 2 boys, "Gracie," "Julie, "Cesal," Bryan, "all young".

Capt. Thom. Doughty, wife, 6 children ; 4 boys, 2 girls, "Mrs. Dave Doughty, "Mrs. Henry Doughty," Geo. "Ricks," Floyd, "Ivan."

Hog Island, Virginia

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