A Walk Through the Marsh: The Original Surveys of 1820
In 1820, federal surveyors from the General Land Office (GLO) entered the Scioto Marsh. Tasked with dividing the region into standardized sections of 640 acres—a process enacted by Congress through the Public Land Survey System (PLSS) in 1785—these artificially created boundaries were used to encourage purchase of the land by western settlers. To accomplish this, however, surveyors first needed to traverse, measure, and take field notes of the local terrain. Once completed, these records were sent back to Washington D.C. where they were used to complete land sale and track transfers. Thankfully, these documents were eventually archived and are now available for public research today. Yet, while it may seem like such records would provide little more than mundane distance calculations, they instead capture a snapshot into the region’s natural state before western settlement. Thus, when read closely, we are able to walk through the same untamed marsh that surveyors did more than 200 years ago. The findings, as you may suspect, are incredible.
While notes were compiled across all four townships that today encompass the entirety of the marsh—Cessna, MacDonald, Marion, and Roundhead—those from Marion best captured its natural essence. To begin, surveyors routinely estimated the land’s worth based on several factors but most notably the availability of harvestable timbers and use for agricultural production. However, in the marsh, this was not the case. Instead, the notes simply and robustly read the phrase: “land worth nothing.” But why? Well, in short, the marsh’s soggy soil and virtually treeless landscape offered investors very little in terms of capital. First, the limited timbers that were available here could be more readily sourced and easily harvested from sections without persistent saturation. Second, those interested in agricultural endeavors would benefit from already drained land as opposed to that which required such significant investment. Finally, the marsh posed incredible impediments to tasks as simple as travel. As best illustrated through comments made in the surveyors records, at many points walking was abandoned as the “[swamp] became so bad that we could get no further without boats.” Add these to the oppressive humidity and it is not hard to imagine why such little value was placed on the land.
Ohio, Volume 3D-5D, Marion Township, Township 4 South, Range 9 East, Section 13, Field Notes for Public Land Survey Township Plats, National Archives and Records Administration, 664.
Estimated Ages of Scioto Marsh Trees, 1820. Source: Ohio, Volume 3D-5D, Field Notes for Public Land Survey Township Plats, National Archives and Records Administration.
Though the land was primarily devoid of trees—a fundamental difference between marshes and swamps—a few were scattered on the periphery. Importantly, these served to denote the beginning, middle, and end of section boundaries and could be used to verify a subsequent surveyor's position within the section. To ensure accuracy, the species and diameters were also noted. Today, these measurements can be collected and analyzed to reveal two critical factors about the marsh’s native ecology: species composition and forest conditions.
The first can be easily determined through simple data collection. Essentially, the named species included in the surveyors' notes are entered into a spreadsheet that tracks where the trees were located and how many were noted. As expected, the results reveal a variety of species that demonstrate a tolerance to wet conditions. More importantly, when mapped, this data can be used to roughly identify areas where the marsh ended and the forest began, thus creating more defined borders. Included below is a list of the species noted across all four townships in the marsh: Ash, Beech, Buckeye, Elm, Maple, Oak, Walnut, and Willow
The second, however, requires a little more work. First, the diameters included alongside the species listed are collected. Next, that individual tree’s growth rate—how fast it increased in size—is determined based on a series of factors. For example, to use the oldest tree recorded, if you have a hickory with a diameter of 30 inches, which boasts a growth rate of 7.5 inches per year, then the tree would be 225 years old. Then, those tabulations were completed for all trees that factored in specific ages and growth rate factors. Finally, all ages were compiled into a histogram (seen here), which groups data based on age into specified intervals, in this case, twenty years, and illustrates frequency. In the case of the Scioto Marsh, the estimation determined that 1 in every 4 trees was more than 97 years old. But what does this mean? Essentially, it shows us that many of the trees (25%) reached maximum maturity in a mixed-aged forest. Though not directly an old-growth, which features an average age above 120 years, these trees provide additional proof that a diverse ecosystem existed in the marsh.
While the surveyors’ notes provided a good, albeit limited, overview of the marsh’s terrain, they did little to capture the full extent of the native wildlife. That said, they did establish a foundation from which continued studies could be completed to generate a more complete idea of what came before us. At the statewide level, Robert B. Gordon’s Natural Vegetation of Ohio at the Time of the Earliest Land Surveys (1966) served to radically reshape our understanding of Ohio’s presettlement ecology. Drawing relevant information from the federal land surveys mentioned above, Gordon successfully mapped the broad ecosystems that were present across Ohio. In the case of the Scioto Marsh, his examination indicated the presence of freshwater marshes and elm-ash swamp forests (You can find an interactive map based on those findings here). Additionally, these findings included a discussion of the native plants and animals generally associated with that specific region. Yet, despite being a fantastic resource, Gordon’s work was a generalization. To find more localized data, on-the-ground collection from individual locations would be required.
In Hardin County, the first comprehensive biological survey would not be completed until 1986. As expected, much had changed in the 166 years that separated this study from the original land surveys, a disparity noted by the researchers. Completed at the behest of the Hardin County Commissioners, three scientists from Ohio Northern University (ONU)—Terry D. Keiser, Nelson J. Moore, and Eric V. Nelson—set out to outline the contemporary state of the region’s flora and fauna. Sadly, the trio’s findings indicated six “critical wildlife habitats,” which they defined as “areas of vegetation which if altered or destroyed would have a major impact on wildlife in the county, particularly on rare or endangered species.” These included: Mature Woodlands and Woodlots, Buttonbush Swamps, Skunk Cabbage-Marsh Marigold Complex, Sphagnum Bogs, Cattail Marsh, and Prairie. Importantly, four of the six habitats were directly related to the rapid disappearance of the county’s wetlands, primarily the Scioto Marsh. While the study listed numerous species present as well as threatened by continued destruction (a few are pictured with contemporary status statewide), they did find that “the biological diversity of the county [was] far greater than previously expected.” That said, they noted that the endangered ecosystems outlined faced continued decline from conversion to arable farmland. As such, the study recommended that “in order for the county to maintain its biological diversity, some type of critical habitat protection program must be put into action in the near future.” Unfortunately, since 1986, no such programs have been implemented to date. Similarly, the present-day status of these endangered ecosystems remains unknown.
Terry D. Keiser et. al., "The Hardin County Biological Survey: Critical Habitat and Selected Vertebrates," ONU Monograph 25 (1986): 1-2. The Getty College of Arts and Sciences Collection, Box 1, University Archives, Hetrick Memorial Library, Ohio Northern University.
Today, the unique ecological features of the marsh, those present before western settlement, have almost entirely disappeared. However, what does remain, outside sporadic sprouts of wild grasses and secluded pockets of saturated earth, is the darkened muck soil and shared regional identity. The former, which can be seen clearly from the sky, encapsulates perfectly the original boundaries of the marsh. Importantly, it is tangible—a physical signal that something different was here. The latter, which persists in the colloquial reference and widespread association with living in the “marsh,” is rooted deeply in the idea of space. This, as opposed to something you can see, is intangible—an emotional connection to a place that is distinct. But, even with the quickest of glances, one can see that these manifestations are historical rather than contemporary. In the end, the marsh does not exist in any meaningful sense. In fact, there is no one currently living who could even testify to its actuality. And yet, it persists, in result and in memory. What, then, can we learn from this endurance?
In short, it demonstrates that wetlands—those that remain and those that are gone—define regions both physically and culturally. To elaborate, we know that the Scioto Marsh existed because we can see its markings on the land. The soil that formed beneath its murky waters continues to yield impressive harvests. Though no one alive today walked through the marsh itself, they do have a connection to the industry that benefits from what it once was. In this way, those who reside within its borders passively associate themselves with the place itself. So, then, this begs the question: is the marsh truly gone?
Aerial Photograph of the Scioto Marsh, 2025. Source: Screenshot taken from Google Maps, March 24, 2025.