At its historical peak, the Great Cypress Swamp spread across nearly 50,000 acres of southern Sussex County, Delaware — an ecosystem at the northernmost reach of the bald cypress's natural range. By the 19th century, commercial logging had already reduced the swamp considerably. Then came the fire of 1930.
A moonshiner's still exploded somewhere in the swamp's interior, igniting not just the surface vegetation but the deep peat layers beneath. The resulting fire burned for eight months, consuming ground that had accumulated over centuries. Local residents took to calling the landscape the "Burnt Swamp," a name that persisted long after regrowth began. An earlier fire in June 1782 had already burned 3,000 acres, visible from 70 miles away.
Delaware Wild Lands, a private non-profit conservation organization, now manages the swamp and has undertaken significant replanting efforts to restore bald cypress to the degraded areas. The swamp is the headwaters of the Pocomoke River, which flows south into Maryland. The bald cypress trees still visible from Route 54 are among the most significant remnants of the region's original old-growth swamp character.
Sources
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Cypress_Swamp
- https://dewildlands.org/our-work/great-cypress-swamp/
- https://www.intuitive-investigations.com/single-post/2015/11/12/the-witchs-tree-the-selbyville-swamp-monster
Phantom voices
The paranormal reputation of the Great Cypress Swamp rests on two separate traditions.
The first is environmental: the road approaching the swamp at night, under the canopy of old bald cypress, has been described by drivers as producing a sense of isolation that amplifies ordinary sounds. Reports of voices audible from the tree line — disembodied in the sense of having no visible human source — have circulated in Sussex County for decades. No investigation has attributed these to anything other than acoustic phenomena produced by the swamp's dense vegetation and still-water surfaces.
The second tradition is the Selbyville Swamp Monster, a creature legend that picked up momentum in the early 1960s when local newspapers began running accounts of a large, ape-like figure seen crossing roads at night near the swamp. The legend was widespread enough to generate regional attention — and then, in 1987, Ralph Grapperhaus, editor of the Delmarva News, disclosed that he and an actor friend, Fred Stevens, had fabricated the creature sightings. Stevens confirmed he had not used the costume since 1964. The monster legend continues to circulate in southern Delaware despite the acknowledged hoax, which is itself now a documented part of the area's social history.