A long time ago, back during the Civil War, there was a plantation owner in Dorchester County who was confronted with an unimaginable terror. At the time, no one knew just what he saw, but they did find him dead at the edge of Greenbriar Swamp several days after his encounter...

To this day, we do not know his name or origin, but we do know he was a slave-owner, he was very rich, and being so he was loyal to the Confederates. We can simply refer to him as his slaves might have, by calling him 'the Master.' As history tells us, eventually the Yanks started winning the war. This was troubling news for the Master, of course. "The Union is coming! Hide your gold!" cried the folks in town. The Master knew Union soldiers would be happy to steal his money as the spoils of war, so he decided to pile all of his gold into a broad oak chest and bury it. The Greenbriar Swamp proved an ideal hiding place, being thick with brush and brambles and difficult to navigate. To assist with his clever deed, the Master called upon the assistance of the one person who would be strong enough to carry the chest through the swamp: a slave named Big Liz. According to some, this woman was said to be so strong, she could carry two full-grown pigs, one under each arm (this is mere hearsay; facts can easily be mixed in with exaggerations). She was a loyal slave, and assisted him willingly, not knowing that her master had no intention of allowing any living soul to know the location of his precious gold.

They made their way through the marshlands until they arrived at Greenbriar Swamp, and when the Master found a place secluded enough for hiding his horde, he and Big Liz buried the chest beneath a tree. Then the Master ordered Big Liz to drive a long iron spike into the tree to mark the location. She complied, and as she was hammering the final stroke into the spike, the Master took one last look at his loyal slave before drawing his saber, and with one quick swipe he cut off her head. Only he could know the location of the gold. Making use of the precious little daylight left, he sank the head and body of Big Liz into the swamp, and stole away home as quickly as he could.

No one knew why, only days later, the Master decided to head back to the swamp. No one could explain the meaning behind the horrible wailing and screams they heard that night during his absence. The next day, when they found the Master's body, they could not discern the cause of his death. All we know now is reported in frightened gasps by those foolish enough to venture into the swamp at night. They have told of the muddy footsteps they heard, and of the approaching silhouette they saw: a blackened humanoid figure, covered in muck, behemoth in size, but most horrifying of all was the absence of a head. The only conclusion these witnesses could draw was, "Big Liz is still protecting her master's gold!"

Over the years people have tried unsuccessfully to find the Master's gold, and every time they have been met with this same dreaded apparition. Then, there was one day, at a local sawmill, the loggers noticed something unusual. One of the trees they brought in had an iron spike protruding from its trunk, just like the one in the legend. Amidst hundreds of other trees in the lumber yard, who knows where that one was cut? Based on this turn of events, it would seem all hope of finding the gold was lost. But there is another possibility. The man who cut that tree may have known the story, taken the gold, and spent his days running from Big Liz, lest he meet the same fate as her master.

Whatever you believe of this tale, know that to this day people continue to report seeing Big Liz carrying her head through the swamps at night.

Many thanks to Susan Meredith, who provided the details for this story while we took a kayaking trip along the Transquaking River. Fortunately for us, she gave us our tour during the day time, and we were spared the opportunity to meet Big Liz. You can find more info about Susan's kayaking tours at Blackwater Paddle and Pedal Adventures.

Written by Erik Yount. Photography by Errol Webber.