1811-1812 New Madrid Earthquake Formed Reelfoot Lake

According to the United States Geological Survey, Reelfoot Lake was formed when the region subsided during the 1811–1812 New Madrid earthquakes.[1] The earthquakes resulted in several significant changes in the landforms over a widespread area, with shocks being felt as far away as Quebec, Canada.  When I read this on the USGS website, I thought about how much damage such a quake would do today, and how many people it would kill.  Reelfoot Lake is a shallow natural lake located in the Northwest portion of the state of Tennessee, in Lake and Obion counties. Much of it is really more of a swamp, with bayou-like ditches (some natural, some man-made). The bayous connect to more open bodies of water called basins, the largest of which is called Blue Basin. Reelfoot Lake is noted for its bald cypress trees and its nesting pairs of bald eagles.  Few people today know how Reelfoot Lake came to be. Thus, I am writing about it to educate readers on the New Madrid region.  It is essential to understand our history, which is usually interesting, and at times, it is awe-inspiring.

Reelfoot Lake is said to be named after an Indian chief who had a deformed foot and was nicknamed "Reelfoot" by settlers in the early 19th Century. A Chickasaw legend states that the name originated from a prince of a Chickasaw tribe inhabiting West Tennessee, who was born with a deformed foot and walked with a rolling motion. So, he was nicknamed Kolpin, meaning Reelfoot. When he became chief, Reelfoot determined to marry a Choctaw princess, but her father would not permit it. The Great Spirit warned Reelfoot that if he attempted to kidnap the maiden, his village and his people would be destroyed. Reelfoot disobeyed the Spirit, and seized the princess by force and carried her to Chickasaw territory, where he arranged a marriage ceremony.

In the middle of the ceremony, the Great Spirit stamped his foot in anger, causing the earth to quake, and the Father of the Waters raised the Mississippi River over its banks, inundating Reelfoot's homeland. The water flowed into the imprint left by the Spirit's foot, forming a beautiful lake beneath which Reelfoot, his bride, and his people lie buried.[2]   This is just Folk-Lore, but it is a quaint way of explaining something supernatural that we are unable to explain otherwise.

Last week, I included a short excerpt from the journal of Mr. Godfrey Lesieur, an eye-witness to the devastation from the earthquake.  This Blog gives another eye-witness account of the earthquake.   Eliza Bryan wrote to Rev. Lorenzo Dow, on March 16, 1816, the following:[3]

“Dear Sir, On the 16^th of December 1811, at about 2 o’clock A.M., we were visited by a violent shock of an earthquake, accompanied by a very awful noise, resembling loud but distant thunder, but more hoarse, and vibrating, which was followed by a few minutes by the complete saturation of the atmosphere with sulfurous vapor, causing total darkness.  The screams of the affrighted inhabitants running to and fro, not knowing where to go or what to do, the cries of the fowls and the beasts of every species, the cracking of trees falling, and the roaring of the Mississippi, the current of which was retrograde for a few minutes, owing, as is supposed, to an eruption in its bed, formed a scene truly terrible.  From that time until about sunrise, a number of lighter shocks occurred, at which time one more violent than the first took place, with the same accompaniments, and the terror which had been excited in everyone, and indeed in all animal nature, was now, if possible, doubted.  The inhabitants fled in every direction to the country, supposing (if it can be admitted that their minds were exercised at all) that there was less danger from a distance than near the river.  In one person, a female [Mrs. Lafont], the alarm was so great that she fainted, and could not be revived."

Eliza Bryan wrote much more on the earthquake, but it will have to be presented in segments over several weeks.  You learned today that the Reelfoot Lake was formed directly from the result of the Great New Madrid Earthquake.   Next week we will transition from the swamps to Crowley's Ridge.   This Ridge extends from Cape Girardeau, Missouri, in a wide arc of over 150 miles down to Helena, Arkansas. The sloping 200 to 500-foot elevation contrasts sharply with the surrounding delta bottomland.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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[1] Historic Earthquakes: New Madrid Earthquakes 1811–1812: Earthquake Summary. USGS

[2]  Wilbur A. Nelson: "Reelfoot — an Earthquake Lake" In National Geographic Magazine, Vol. XLV, January 1962, p. 103.

[3] Goodspeed's History of Southeast Missouri, 1888, page 304.

The Great New Madrid Earthquake!

Growing up in Sikeston, Missouri, I wondered why they called the Bootheel of Missouri "Swampeast Missouri."  I never saw any swamp.  The land was flat and dry, with some of the most productive farmland in the world.  My mother said the area was "boringly flat" from Benton Hill in Scott County to Pemiscot County, Missouri, and south to Memphis. The only exception to the flatness was Crowley's Ridge.  They grow mostly cotton, soybeans, and corn in the Bootheel.  The area is southern in its thinking, talking, and living.  It is hot and humid in the summer, and moderately cold in the winter.  Several friends who graduated from high school with me went to Ole Miss or Arkansas State University.  Most others attended Southeast Missouri State University in Cape Girardeau, thirty-two miles away.  It was not evident to me when I was growing up that the area was as southern as Mississippi.

I was blessed to have a good teacher in History at my high school.  For that reason, I find history fascinating.  It was not until I attended college for the second time that I became interested in my regional history.  I learned the reason why they called the Bootheel "Swampeast Missouri."  Hundreds of books are written on the subject of the great 1811-1812 New Madrid Earthquake, but  I was forty years old before I ever read one.  Some of the pioneers in the New Madrid area kept journals describing what it was like to endure the great quake.  In Goodspeed's 1888 History of Southeast Missouri, I found the following account of the great earthquake.

     "New Madrid, rendered famous by the great earthquake of 1811-1812, was, initially, one of the old Spanish forts, and lies about twenty miles below the mouth of the Ohio River.  It was settled immediately after the close of the Revolutionary War by families from Virginia and the Carolinas. It was growing rapidly in wealth and population when its progress was arrested by that frightful calamity which affected not only the county of New Madrid but also the neighboring country on both sides of the Mississippi (River).  Streams were turned from their channels or dried up.  Hills, forests, and plains disappeared, and lakes were formed in their places. Vast heaps of sand were scattered in various locations, and whole tracts of land sank below the level of the surrounding country."  One lake formed was sixty or seventy miles long and from three to twenty in breadth. Short extracts from the description of Mr. Godfrey Lesieur, who was an eye-witness  of the scene, and wrote his experience in a journal, is quoted below:

     "The first shock was about 2 o'clock A.M., on the night of December 16, 1811, and was very hard, shaking down log houses, chimneys, etc.  It was followed at intervals, from half an hour to an hour apart.  The shocks were comparatively slight until about 7 o'clock in the morning, when a rumbling noise was heard in the west, not unlike distant thunder.  In an instant, the earth began to totter and shake so that no persons were able to stand or walk.  This lasted a minute; then the land was observed to be rolling in waves of a few feet in height, with a visible depression between.  These swells burst, throwing up large volumes of water, and a species of charcoal, some of which was partly covered with a substance, which, by its peculiar odor, was thought to be sulfur.  Where these swells burst, large, wide and long fissures were left, running north and south parallel to each other for miles.  I have seen some four or five miles in length, four and one-half feet deep on an average, and about ten feet wide.  After this, slight shocks were felt at intervals, until January 7, 1812, when the region was again visited by an earthquake equal to the first in violence, and characterized by the same frightful results."

Mr. Lesieur wrote that, upon this second visitation, the inhabitants, excepting two families, fled the country in dismay, leaving behind their stock, and even many of their household goods, all of which were appropriated by adventurers and carried away in flatboats.  The last violent shock occurred on the 17th of February, 1812.

It Takes A While to Appreciate Our Own History and now I know why they called the Bootheel "Swampeast Missouri."  The earthquake caused a two-million-acre region of swamps that was also called the “Missouri Glades.”   The result of the New Madrid Earthquake produced the largest wetland in America between 1812 and 1928. Between 1907 and 1928,  the Little River Drainage District drained the swamps to make the Bootheel some of the most productive farmland in the world.  

Next Tuesday, I will discuss the swamps and why today's land is flat and dry. It is a fascinating adventure you will want to read.