having dined we went out about two o'clock to explore the island of
Manathans. This island runs east and west, or somewhat more northerly.
On the north side of it is the North River, by which it is separated
from the main land on the north; on the east end it is separated from
the main land by a creek, or rather a branch of the North River,
emptying itself into the East River. They can go over this creek at
dead low water, upon rocks and reefs, at the place called Spyt den
Duyvel. This creek coming into the East River forms with it the two
Barents Islands.[135] At the west end of these two running waters,
that is, where they come together to the east of these islands, they
make, with the rocks and reefs, such a frightful eddy and whirlpool
that it is exceedingly dangerous to pass through them, especially with
small boats, of which there are some lost every now and then, and the
persons in them drowned; but experience has taught men the way of
passing through them with less danger. Large vessels have always less
danger because they are not capable of being carried along so quickly.
There are two places where such whirling of the stream occurs, which
are on account of the danger and frightfulness called the Great and
Little Helle Gadt. After these two streams are united, the island of
Manathans is separated on the south from Long Island by the East
River, which, beginning at the bay before New York, runs eastwardly,
after forming several islands, again into the sea. This island[136] is
about seven hours' distance in length, but it is not a full hour
broad. The sides are indented with bays, coves and creeks. It is
almost entirely taken up, that is, the land is held by private owners,
but not half of it is cultivated. Much of it is good wood land. The
west end on which the city lies, is entirely cleared for more than an
hour's distance, though that is the poorest ground; the best being on
the east and north side. There are many brooks of fresh water running
through it, pleasant and proper for man and beast to drink, as well as
agreeable to behold, affording cool and pleasant resting places, but
especially suitable places for the construction of mills, for although
there is no overflow of water, yet it can be shut off and so used. A
little eastward of Nieu Haerlem there are two ridges of very high
rocks, with a considerable space between them, displaying themselves
very majestically, and inviting all men to acknowledge in them the
majesty, grandeur, power and glory of their creator, who has impressed
such marks upon them. Between them runs the road to Spyt den
Duyvel.[137] The one to the north is most apparent; the south ridge is
covered with earth on its north side, but it can be seen from the
water or from the main land beyond to the south. The soil between
these ridges is very good, though a little hilly and stony, and would
be very suitable in my opinion for planting vineyards, in consequence
of its being shut off on both sides from the winds which would most
injure them, and is very warm. We found blue grapes along the road
which were very good and sweet, and as good as any I have tasted in
the Fatherland.
[Footnote 135: Named from Barent Blom, a settler. Later called Great
and Little Barn Islands, now Ward's and Randall's Islands.]
[Footnote 136: Of Manhattan.]
[Footnote 137: The road was finished in 1673. Traced along the modern
streets, it ran up Broadway, Park Row, the Bowery, Fourth Avenue (to
Union Square), Broadway (to Madison Square), and then irregularly to
the Harlem River at Third Avenue and 130th Street. The heights spoken
of east (northeast) of the village of New Harlem were the present
Mount Morris and Mott Haven.]
We went from the city, following the Broadway, over the _valley_, or
the fresh water. Upon both sides of this way were many habitations of
negroes, mulattoes and whites. These negroes were formerly the proper
slaves of the (West India) company, but, in consequence of the
frequent changes and conquests of the country, they have obtained
their freedom and settled themselves down where they have thought
proper, and thus on this road, where they have ground enough to live
on with their families. We left the village, called the Bowery,[138]
lying on the right hand, and went through the woods to New Harlem, a
tolerably large village situated on the south[139] side of the island,
directly opposite the place where the northeast creek and the East
River come together, situated about three hours' journey from New
Amsterdam, as old Harlem, in Europe, is situated about three hours'
distance from old Amsterdam. As our guide, Gerrit, had some business
here, and found many acquaintances, we remained over night at the
house of one Geresolveert,[140] schout (sheriff or constable), of the
place, who had formerly lived in Brazil, and whose heart was still
full of it. This house was constantly filled with people, all the time
drinking, for the most part, that execrable rum. He had also the best
cider we have tasted. Among the crowd we found a person of quality, an
Englishman, named Captain Catrix, whose father is in great favor with
the king, and he himself had assisted in several exploits in the
king's service. He was administrator, or captain general, of the
English forces which went, in 1666, to retake St. Christoffel, which
the French had entirely conquered, and were repulsed.[141] He had also
filled some high office, during the war, in the ship of the Duke of
York, with two hundred infantry under his command. The king has given
to his father, Sir [George] Catrix, the entire government of the lands
west of the North River, in New Netherland, with power to appoint as
governor whom he pleases; and at this present time there is a governor
over it, by his appointment, another Carteret, his nephew, I believe,
who resides at Lysbethstaun [Elizabethtown], in N. Jarnisee[142] [New
Jersey].[143] From this Catrix, in England, the Quakers have
purchased the privilege of a government of their own, over a large
tract of territory which they have bought and settled within his
dominion; and it is but little different from their having bought the
entire right of government of the whole of his land. This son is a
very profligate person. He married a merchant's daughter here, and has
so lived with his wife that her father has been compelled to take her
home again. He runs about among the farmers, and stays where he can
find most to drink, and sleeps in barns on the straw. If he conducted
himself properly, he could be not only governor here, but hold higher
positions, for he has studied the moralities, and seems to have been
of a good understanding; but that is all now drowned. His father, who
will not acknowledge him as his son, as before, allows him yearly as
much only as is necessary for him to live.
[Footnote 138: So called because its main street ran through the farm
or _bouwery_ of Peter Stuyvesant.]
[Footnote 139: Or east.]
[Footnote 140: Resolved Waldron (1610-1690), elected constable in
October, 1678. He was the chief man of the place, had been deputy
fiscael of New Netherland in the time of Governor Stuyvesant, and held
many provincial and local offices. In 1659 he and Augustine Herrman
went to Maryland on an embassy for Stuyvesant; see its journal in
_Narratives of Early Maryland_, in this series, pp. 309-333. Thus it
may have been he who told Danckaerts and Sluyter of Herrman and of
Bohemia Manor. It is almost certain that he never was in Brazil; but
Hendrick Vander Vin, clerk and _voorleser_ of Harlem, whom our
travellers may have met at Waldron's house, had had an important
official position there.]
[Footnote 141: Catrix for Carteret. Captain James Carteret, son of Sir
George Carteret, the proprietary of New Jersey, had commanded a ship
at the reduction of St. Christopher in 1667, had come to New Jersey in
1671, and had allowed himself to be made leader of the malcontents in
an uprising in that province in 1672. In 1673 he married the daughter
of the mayor of New York, and set out for Carolina, where he was a
"landgrave," but returned to New York, and ultimately (1680) to
Europe.]
[Footnote 142: The diarist is perhaps confusing the two Channel
Islands of Jersey and Guernsey.]
[Footnote 143: Philip Carteret, a distant cousin, not a nephew, of Sir
George, is the person here meant. He was appointed governor of New
Jersey under the joint proprietorship of Lord Berkeley and Sir George
Carteret, in 1664, and of East Jersey in 1674, under the sole grant to
Sir George. He resigned in 1682, and died in December of that year, in
this country. "This Carteret in England" means of course Sir George.
The half of New Jersey called West New Jersey, first granted to
Fenwick and Byllynge, came as a trust into the hands of Penn, Lawrie,
and Lucas (see _Narratives of Early Pennsylvania, West New Jersey, and
Delaware_, in this series, pp. 177-195), who used it for Quaker
colonization.]
_7th, Saturday._ This morning, about half-past six, we set out from
the village, in order to go to the end of the island; but before we
left we did not omit supplying ourselves with peaches which grew in an
orchard along the road. The whole ground was covered with them and
with apples, lying upon the new grain with which the orchard was
planted. The peaches were the most delicious we had yet eaten. We
proceeded on our way, and when we were not far from the point of Spyt
den Duyvel, we could see on our left hand the rocky cliffs of the main
land on the other side of the North River,[144] these cliffs standing
straight up and down, with the grain, just as if they were antimony.
We came then to the end of the island, which was alluvial ground, and
crossed over the Spyt den Duyvel in a canoe, and paid nine stivers
fare for us three, which was very dear. We followed the opposite side
of the land, and came to the house of one Valentyn,[145] a great
acquaintance of our Gerrit. He had gone to the city, but his wife,
though she did not know Gerrit or us, was so much rejoiced to see
Hollanders, that she hardly knew what to do for us. She set before us
what she had. We left after breakfasting there. Her son showed us the
way, and we came to a road which was entirely covered with peaches. We
asked the boy why they left them lying there, and did not let the hogs
eat them. He answered, We do not know what to do with them, there are
so many; the hogs are satiated with them and will not eat any more.
From this we may judge of the quantity of them. We pursued our way now
a small distance through the woods and over the hills, then back again
along the shore to a point, where one Webblingh,[146] an Englishman,
lived, who was standing ready to cross over. He carried us over with
him, and refused to take any pay for our passage, offering us at the
same time some of his rum, a liquor which is everywhere. We were now
again at New Harlem, and dined with Geresolveert, at whose house we
slept the night before, and who made us welcome. It was now two
o'clock; and leaving there, we crossed over the island, which takes
about three-quarters of an hour to do, and came to the North River,
which we followed a little within the woods, to Sappokanikke.[147]
Gerrit having a sister and friends there we rested ourselves, and
drank some good beer, which refreshed us. We continued along the shore
to the city, where we arrived in an hour in the evening, very much
fatigued, having walked this day about forty miles. I must add, that
in passing through this island we sometimes encountered such a sweet
smell in the air that we stood still, because we did not know what it
was we were meeting.
[Footnote 144: The Palisades.]
[Footnote 145: Valentine Claessen, whose sons took the surname of
Valentine. He was a Saxon from Transylvania; his wife, Marritie
Jacobs, was a Dutch woman, of Beest in Gelderland.]
[Footnote 146: Walter Webley, nephew of Colonel Lewis Morris.]
[Footnote 147: Greenwich.]
_8th, Sunday._ We staid at home this morning for the purpose of
writing and resting ourselves. Gerrit requested me to shave him, as
did also an old countryman of Nevesinck who lodged at our house, which
was the first time in my life that I had ever shaved any one. It
afforded us an opportunity of speaking to this countryman about
various matters touching the country. We intended in the afternoon to
attend the English service, but, on going to the fort, the sentinel
told us there was no English preaching in the afternoon, and we
returned home.
_9th, Monday._ We remained at home to-day, except that I went out to
ascertain whether there was any way of going over to Staten Island.
Meanwhile we began to dispose of some of our large merchandise. Gerrit
went out to Sapokan, to do some carpenter's work. We tasted to-day
some very fine grapes.
_10th, Tuesday._ Finding no opportunity of going to Staten Island, we
asked our old friend Symon, who had come over from Gouanes, what was
the best way for us to get there, when he offered us his services to
take us over in his skiff, which we accepted; and at dusk accompanied
him in his boat to Gouanes, where we arrived about eight o'clock, and
where he welcomed us and entertained us well.
_11th, Wednesday._ We embarked early this morning in his boat and
rowed over to Staten Island, where we arrived about eight o'clock. He
left us there, and we went on our way. This island is about thirty-two
miles[148] long and four broad. Its sides are very irregular, with
projecting points and indented bays, and creeks running deep into the
country. It lies for the most part east and west, and is somewhat
triangular. The most prominent point is to the west. On the east side
is the narrow passage which they call the channel, by which it is
separated from the high point of Long Island. On the south is the
great bay which is inclosed by Nayaq, Conijnen Island, Rentselaer's
Hook, Nevesinck, etc. On the west is the Raritans. On the north or
northwest is New Garnisee [Jersey], from which it is separated by a
large creek or arm of the river, called Kil van Kol. The eastern part
is high and steep, and has few inhabitants. It is the usual place
where ships, ready for sea, stop to take in water, while the captain
and passengers are engaged in making their own arrangements and
writing letters previous to their departure. The whole south side is a
large plain, with much salt meadow or marsh, and several creeks. The
west point is flat, and on or around it is a large creek with much
marsh; but to the north of this creek it is high and hilly, and beyond
that it begins to be more level, but not so low as on the other side,
and is well populated. On the northwest it is well provided with
creeks and marshes, and the land is generally better than on the south
side, although there is a good parcel of land in the middle of the
latter. As regards the middle or most hilly part of the island, it is
uninhabited, although the soil is better than the land around it; but,
in consequence of its being away from the water, and lying so high, no
one will live there, the creeks and rivers being so serviceable to
them in enabling them to go to the city, and for fishing and catching
oysters, and for being near the salt meadows. The woods are used for
pasturing horses and cattle, for being an island, none of them can get
off. Each person has marks upon his own by which he can find them when
he wants them. When the population of the country shall increase,
these places will be taken up. Game of all kinds is plenty, and
twenty-five and thirty deer are sometimes seen in a herd. A boy who
came into a house where we were, told us he had shot ten the last
winter himself, and more than forty in his life, and in the same
manner other game. We tasted here the best grapes. There are now about
a hundred families on the island, of which the English constitute the
least portion, and the Dutch and French divide between them about
equally the greater portion. They have neither church nor minister,
and live rather far from each other, and inconveniently to meet
together. The English are less disposed to religion, and inquire
little after it, but in case there were a minister, would contribute
to his support. The French and Dutch are very desirous and eager for
one, for they spoke of it wherever we went, and said, in the event of
not obtaining Domine Tessemaker, they would send, or had sent, to
France for another. The French are good Reformed churchmen, and some
of them are Walloons.[149] The Dutch are also from different quarters.
[Footnote 148: In fact, about fourteen.]
[Footnote 149: French-speaking persons from those provinces of the Low
Countries then remaining under the rule of Spain, but now constituting
the kingdom of Belgium.]
We reached the island, as I have said, about nine o'clock, directly
opposite Gouanes, not far from the watering place. We proceeded
southwardly along the shore of the high land on the east end, where it
was sometimes stony and rocky, and sometimes sandy, supplied with fine
constantly-flowing springs with which at times we quenched our thirst.
We had now come nearly to the furthest point on the southeast, behind
which I had observed several houses when we came in with the ship. We
had also made inquiry as to the villages through which we would have
to pass, and they had told us the Oude Dorp[150] would be the first
one we should come to; but my comrade finding the point very rocky and
difficult, and believing the village was inland, and as we discovered
no path to follow, we determined to clamber to the top of this steep
bluff, through the bushes and thickets, which we accomplished with
great difficulty and in a perspiration. We found as little of a road
above as below, and nothing but woods, through which one could not
see. There appeared to be a little foot-path along the edge which I
followed a short distance to the side of the point, but my comrade
calling me and saying that he certainly thought we had passed by the
road to the Oude Dorp, and observing myself that the little path led
down to the point, I returned again, and we followed it the other way,
which led us back to the place from where we started. We supposed we
ought to go from the shore in order to find the road to the Oude Dorp,
and seeing here these slight tracks into the woods, we followed them
as far as we could, till at last they ran to nothing else than dry
leaves. Having wandered an hour or more in the woods, now in a hollow
and then over a hill, at one time through a swamp, at another across a
brook, without finding any road or path, we entirely lost the way. We
could see nothing except a little of the sky through the thick
branches of the trees above our heads, and we thought it best to break
out of the woods entirely and regain the shore. I had taken an
observation of the shore and point, having been able to look at the
sun, which shone extraordinarily hot in the thick woods, without the
least breath of air stirring. We made our way at last as well as we
could out of the woods, and struck the shore a quarter of an hour's
distance from where we began to climb up. We were rejoiced, as there
was a house not far from the place where we came out. We went to it to
see if we could find any one who would show us the way a little. There
was no master in it, but an Englishwoman with negroes and servants. We
first asked her as to the road, and then for something to drink, and
also for some one to show us the road; but she refused the last,
although we were willing to pay for it. She was a cross woman. She
said she had never been in the village, and her folks must work, and
we would certainly have to go away as wise as we came. She said,
however, we must follow the shore, as we did. We went now over the
rocky point, which we were no sooner over than we saw a pretty little
sand bay, and a small creek, and not far from there, cattle and
houses. We also saw the point to which the little path led from the
hill above, where I was when my comrade called me. We should not have
had more than three hundred steps to go to have been where we now
were. It was very hot, and we perspired a great deal. We went on to
the little creek to sit down and rest ourselves there, and to cool our
feet, and then proceeded to the houses which constituted the Oude
Dorp. It was now about two o'clock. There were seven houses, but only
three in which any body lived. The others were abandoned, and their
owners had gone to live on better places on the island, because the
ground around this village was worn out and barren, and also too
limited for their use. We went into the first house which was
inhabited by English, and there rested ourselves and ate, and inquired
further after the road. The woman was cross, and her husband not much
better. We had to pay here for what we ate, which we had not done
before. We paid three guilders in zeewan, although we only drank
water. We proceeded by a tolerably good road to the Nieuwe Dorp,[151]
but as the road ran continually in the woods, we got astray again in
them. It was dark, and we were compelled to break our way out through
the woods and thickets, and we went a great distance before we
succeeded, when it was almost entirely dark. We saw a house at a
distance to which we directed ourselves across the bushes. It was the
first house of the Nieuwe Dorp. We found there an Englishman who could
speak Dutch, and who received us very cordially into his house, where
we had as good as he and his wife had. She was a Dutch woman from the
Manhatans, who was glad to have us in her house.
[Footnote 150: The Oude Dorp (Old Town or Old Village) stood near the
present South Beach on the east side of the island. The steep bluff
spoken of was at what is now called Fort Wadsworth.]
[Footnote 151: Still called New Dorp; a village some two miles east of
Richmond.]
_12th, Thursday._ Although we had not slept well, we had to resume our
journey with the day. The man where we slept set us on the road. We
had now no more villages to go to, but went from one plantation to
another, for the most part belonging to French, who showed us every
kindness because we conversed with them in French, and spoke of the
ways of the Lord according to their condition. About one-third part of
the distance from the south side to the west end is still all woods,
and is very little visited. We had to go along the shore, finding
sometimes fine creeks well provided with wild turkeys, geese, snipes
and wood hens. Lying rotting upon the shore were thousands of fish
called _marsbancken_,[152] which are about the size of a common carp.
These fish swim close together in large schools, and are pursued so by
other fish that they are forced upon the shore in order to avoid the
mouths of their enemies, and when the water falls they are left there
to die, food for the eagles and other birds of prey. Proceeding thus
along we came to the west point where an Englishman lived alone some
distance from the road.[153] We ate something here, and he gave us the
consolation that we should have a very bad road for two or three hours
ahead, which indeed we experienced, for there was neither path nor
road. He showed us as well as he could. There was a large creek to
cross which ran very far into the land, and when we should get on the
other side of it, we must, he said, go outward again along (the
shore). After we had gone a piece of the way through the woods, we
came to a valley with a brook running through it, which we took to be
the creek or the end of it. We turned round it as short as we could,
in order to go back again to the shore, which we reached after
wandering a long time over hill and dale, when we saw the creek, which
we supposed we had crossed, now just before us. We followed the side
of it deep into the woods, and when we arrived at the end of it saw no
path along the other side to get outwards again, but the road ran into
the woods in order to cut off a point of the hills and land. We
pursued this road for some time, but saw no mode of getting out, and
that it led further and further from the creek. We, therefore, left
the road and went across through the bushes, so as to reach the shore
by the nearest route according to our calculation. After continuing
this course about an hour, we saw at a distance a miserably
constructed tabernacle of pieces of wood covered with brush, all open
in front, and where we thought there were Indians; but on coming up to
it we found in it an Englishman sick, and his wife and child lying
upon some bushes by a little fire. We asked him if he were sick. "Do
you ask me whether I am sick? I have been sick here over two months,"
he replied. It made my heart sore indeed, for I had never in all my
life seen such poverty, and that, too, in the middle of a wood and a
wilderness. After we obtained some information as to the way, we went
on, and had not gone far before we came to another house, and thus
from one farm to another, French, Dutch, and a few English, so that we
had not wandered very far out of the way. We inquired at each house
the way to the next one. Shortly before evening we arrived at the
plantation of a Frenchman, whom they called Le Chaudronnier (the
coppersmith), who was formerly a soldier under the Prince of Orange,
and had served in Brazil. He was so delighted, and held on to us so
hard, that we remained and spent the night with him.
[Footnote 152: Menhaden.]
[Footnote 153: Perhaps Christopher Billop of Bentley. The creeks next
spoken of are Richmond Creek and Main Creek, which make well into the
island from its west side.]