Redwood, Nov. 28. -- If a pioneer road builder of the North Country were to return to the scene of his labors, and watch a road gang at work, he would certainly view with amazement, if not with alarm, the ponderous and complicated machinery required for modern highway construction. The necessary equipment in his day consisted mostly of saws and axes. An early contract required that “the road be one rod wide, large trees to be girdled, those 18 inches or less to be cut, and the stumps cut low, so as not to obstruct a wheel.”

However, there would be at least one common problem -- the construction of a permanent roadbed over the seemingly bottomless quagmire of the Long Swamp near Oxbow and the crossway near Hammond. Tons upon tons of material have been deposited there, but still the road at the southern end of the swamp is slowly settling, and a section of the crossway is so badly sunken and broken as to be dangerous.

About 1850, came the plank road era. At first these roads were hailed as a means of keeping the farmer out of the mud, but it was soon found to be far from the pleasant mode of travel expected. What a thumping and rumbling there must have been when a team and heavy wagon passed over them. Soon they became worn to corduroy, and it “wonders me much” how any eggs ever reached market intact, even packed in oats, as they often were.

One farmer’s wife carried them to the store in a basket held on her lap for safe transportation, but the wagon gave a particularly violent yank, nearly jerking the basket from her hands, and depositing the top layer of eggs in her lap, to the ruination of her dress and her temper, and the complete destruction of the eggs.

Even though hemlock lumber, of which the plank roads were mostly constructed, was plentiful, they were expensive to build and maintain. Toll houses were erected every few miles and toll levied upon the protesting travelers. Those who must pass through a tollgate to mill and market found it especially irksome, and in some cases, the rates were reduced. Then as railroads were built, the plank roads were no longer kept in repair, and the planks were finally removed.

The toll house at the end of the Long Swamp just within the Jefferson county line, was moved a short distance, the sections joined, and used as a dwelling. For many years it was the home of the late James Malroy, but since his death, has been razed. The others have long since disappeared.

The scene of the most famous murder mystery of the North County was laid at the toll gate at the junction of the Gouverneur and Oxbow roads near Antwerp. The keeper, an elderly man, living alone, was brutally murdered one night, the motive being robbery, but as the money on hand had been removed to a bank only the day before, the murderer received little for his deed.

One man was tried for the crime, and others questioned, but there was not sufficient evidence to convict. However, there were some strange circumstances connected with the affair that did not come to light in the courtroom.

Among those questioned as a man living in New Connecticut, but he seemingly had an “iron-clad” alibi. Both his wife and himself swore that he had been at home the night of the murder, and did not learn of it until he went to Oxbow the next day, but there were several who could have told a different story.

Just at dawn of the day following the murder, a party of woodcutters were passing through the swamp, when, to their surprise, they saw a man entering the swamp from the direction of Oxbow. When he drew nearer, they recognized him, and as he was a sociable person, and a relative of one of the men, it was expected he would stop to talk with them, but he gave them only the curtest of greetings and hurried on. Even after hearing of the crime of the preceding night, they thought nothing of the incident, but his alibi at the trial gave them food for thought. However, his absence might have been entirely unconnected with the murder, and as no one wanted to get mixed up with the affair, nothing was said.

Another odd thing was noted about the affair. A certain man appeared to be a very close friend of the suspect on trial, though they were not previously known to be intimate. He visited the prisoner as often as possible, and remained with him every moment allowed. He was heard to caution him not to talk, to answer as briefly as he could, that they had nothing on him if he was just careful what he said. He was extremely nervous during the trial, his eyes never leaving the suspect’s face during his testimony. When the prisoner was released, his relief was obvious, but the friendship terminated with the trial.

In accordance with tradition, an indelible stain was left on the floor of the toll house. An elderly man of the neighborhood seemed fascinated by it. He visited the place daily, and would stare silently at the spot for a long time, then suddenly demand of the keeper why it was not scrubbed out, or at least covered with a rug. (“Out, damned spot!”) He continued his visits until his death some time after and always acted in the same way.

Several serious, and one or two fatal accidents, have occurred at this corner in recent years.