of the Quakers, has never been claimed by any one, although here and
there lived a Swede, as also among the Swedes here and there dwelt a
Hollander. But when the whole country, in the year 1664, came to the
crown of England under the Duke of York,[274] the duke or the king
gave the land lying between the two rivers, namely, the North River
and the South River, the easterly part to my Lord Catrix [Carteret],
and the westerly part to my Lord Barklay [Berkeley], but without a
boundary line between them. This remained so till the year ---- a Mr.
Pennel,[275] a brewer of London, failed there. Berkeley, who was a
great friend of his, as were also many other courtiers, and frequented
his brewery daily, came to his brewery and told him that as he, the
brewer, was a broken man, he could advise him how to recover his
fortune; that if he would furnish him a sum of money, he would, by
authentic writings, make over to him a tract of land which the king
had given him. This suited the brewer very well, who succeeded in
obtaining the money from his friends, and this land was accordingly
transferred to him. But as the affairs of the brewer would not permit
him to act himself, he had a friend named Phenix [Fenwick], also a
Quaker, who was to transact the business in his own name, for him the
brewer, in consideration of which Fenwick was to enjoy a tenth of the
whole westerly part. Fenwick managed it in his name so well that he
would soon have stripped the other of all, but means were afterwards
employed to compel him to be satisfied with his tenth. Fenwick had
letters printed and circulated everywhere, in which he described this
portion of the country in glowing colors; that it was a veritable
Paradise, especially for those people who were of the same religious
sentiments as himself. Many persons of this belief thereupon bought
pieces of land, parcelled out only on the map, according to the
imperfect knowledge which they then possessed, first into tenths, of
which Fenwick had one, and then each tenth into hundredths, embracing
water, morasses, swamps and marshes, so that these poor people bought
they knew not what. Fenwick hereupon came over to this country, with a
portion of these people, in order to take possession of what they had
bought; but he, being in debt in England, was arrested on the eve of
departure, and compelled to leave the original letters of
authorization in the hands of his creditors, and could himself obtain
nothing but copies thereof. With these he arrived in the South River,
and demanded the country from the chief rulers there, who required the
production of his authority, which he refused a long time, but not
being able to obtain justice, he brought forward his copies to show
them, whereupon these principal men referred him to their sovereign
governor at New York, who has not yet been able either to reject or
admit the claim. They landed however after some tumult, but without
bloodshed, and have remained there, constantly bringing more people,
and the governor tolerating them. Every one of the purchasers who
arrives here is at a loss to know where he has bought, and so settles
down where he thinks best, leaving it to be determined hereafter; and
finding more land has been sold than can be delivered, looks out for
himself. Inasmuch as they are thrown under the government of New York,
they have two small courts to decide trifling cases, in order thereby
to save travel. Meanwhile the country was recovered by the Hollanders
in 1673, and then again, by treaty of peace, surrendered to the crown
of England, whereby the Dutch lost all their right to the westerly
part a second time, unless the provision in the treaty that all things
should remain as before the war, should restore them their pretended
right. But if this clause only relates to the two peacemaking parties,
it remains justly with the crown of England. Finally, there is the
utmost confusion without any good foundation for it.
[Footnote 274: Came to the crown of England and was conferred by King
Charles II. on his brother, James, duke of York, afterward James II.
The duke's grant of New Jersey to Berkeley and Carteret in 1664
conveyed it to them undivided. The partition was effected by the new
grants of 1674 and the Quintipartite Deed of 1676, creating East New
Jersey and West New Jersey.]
[Footnote 275: A strange corruption of the name of Edward Byllynge;
less altered is the name of the other proprietor of West Jersey,
mentioned below, John Fenwick, who founded Salem in 1675. West Jersey
in that year fell into the hands of Penn, Lawrie, and Lucas as
trustees. Their letter in _Narratives of Pennsylvania_, pp. 177-185,
explains the system of land sales, of which our censorious traveller
takes so dark a view.]
There are Quakers who are either are more wise, or through poverty act
so, who do not buy any land on the east side of the river, but buy on
the west side, where it is cheaper in consequence of the Indians being
there. The Quakers have endeavored to break up the Dutch and others
not of their religion, who have lived of old on the east side of the
river, but resist them, and are sustained by the authorities. How far
this may be carried, and what may be the result, time will show. The
Indians hate the Quakers very much on account of their deceit and
covetousness, and say they are not Englishmen, always distinguishing
them from all other Englishmen, as is also done by almost all other
persons. The Indians say "they are not Christians, they are like
ourselves." The deeds of all lands bought on the South River from the
government of New York contain a provision that they must be settled
upon within three years, or they will revert to the king. Every acre
of land, whether cultivated or not, pays a bushel, that is, one
schepel and a fifth of wheat. The meadows pay nothing. The swamps,
cattle and men, are free. The outgoing good [_blank_].
We will now go back, and resume our journey. When we passed by the
mill, a Quaker was there who gave us a letter, and told us it was
difficult travelling, on account of the height of the water in the
creeks; that about eight miles further on, some Indians had come to
live, a little off the path on the left hand. We thought we should
reach there by evening. We left the falls about two o'clock, following
the ordinary path, which is the same for men and horses, and is grown
up on both sides with bushes, which wore our breeches, stockings and
shoes, as much as all the woods in Maryland together. The road runs
from here east-northeast. When we came upon the land above, we found
an extraordinary quantity of water, not only upon the flats and in the
valleys, brooks, and morasses, but also upon the high, solid ground.
We supposed this was caused by shutting up the creek by the mill dam,
whereby the water did not have shoot sufficient to run down, but it
was not that alone. We pursued our way, however, courageously, but
discovered no Indians up to evening. We called aloud to ascertain
whether they were about there, as they would answer if they were; and
as our guide could speak the Indian language well, we thought it would
all come right. But it was to no purpose; we perceived no Indians. We
had gone about twelve miles from the falls, and it began to grow dark,
when we came to a hill descending to a creek or small river called
Millstone River, whence we saw fire at a distance, and supposed that
Indians or other people might be about there. We therefore called out
again several times, but received no answer. On arriving at the creek
we found it so full of water, and running so swiftly, there was no
prospect of crossing it that evening, the more so as it was almost
entirely dark. We looked about for some wood, though there was not
much at this place, and collected as much as we thought we should want
to burn for the whole night. We made a good fire, and after warming
and drying ourselves, ate our supper from what we had brought in our
travelling bag. At last we lay down around the fire and fell asleep,
having travelled twenty-five miles during the day; but our rest did
not continue long, as it began to rain hard before midnight, and we
soon awoke and arose to attend to our fire, in order that it might not
be extinguished. The rain continued so long and increased so that we
could not sit down, because the place was so full of water. We had to
take care and protect the fire from going out, which gave us enough to
do. It was quite calm, or blew very little, the wind coming from all
quarters; nevertheless, we could not dry ourselves, although we kept
turning continually round towards the fire. We were wet through, and
could do nothing better than to stand straight up, whereby from the
length of time and the weight of our clothes we became very weary
instead of having the repose we so much needed. Walk or sit, we could
not, because it was too dark, and the land too full of water for the
former, and for the other it was too wet. We were compelled to wait
with patience in this position until daylight, which seemed to tarry,
because we longed for it so much. It was one of the shortest days in
the year, with dark and rainy weather. Each one looked out for the day
as if we could thereby cause it to appear sooner. Finally, as our wood
was consumed, the day began.
_30th, Saturday._ As soon as we could see, we went to the creek, to
ascertain whether we could cross over, but it was as full and the
water ran as swiftly as the evening before, because it had rained
continually, and was still raining; although we had hoped that, if the
weather had remained dry, the water would have subsided. As it was,
there was no other course than to wade over, and although we were
stiff and cold, we had to take off our stockings, and put our bare
feet in the shoes to protect them from treading on anything sharp,
and our stockings were the dryest articles we had. We bound up our
breeches as high as we could. "Now," said I, "let each one of us take
a good stick in his hand in order to prop himself up against the
current, and prevent his being washed away." Our guide went ahead even
before I had found a stick; but when he reached the middle of the
creek, he cried out, "Help, help, if you do not help me, I shall be
carried away." I ran, took off my breeches, placed them on top of my
head, and struggling, stick in hand, with the stones washing from
under my feet and stick, went to him and took from him my travelling
sack with which he was bent down. I kept on and was nearly across when
my foot slipped on a smooth stone, and I fell forward into the water.
However, by the aid of the stick, and the short distance to go, I
succeeded in crossing, the sack being thoroughly wet. Our guide, who
had on leather breeches, which became full of the running water,
whereby he could not get along, now rolled them up, and by that means
the water ran out below and lightened him, and thus he got over. My
companion was yet on the other side, with his travelling bag and two
swords. He did the same as I had done, and placed his breeches on top
of his head, tied the rest on well, and followed us; but he was
scarcely in the middle of the creek when he cried out to us to come
and meet him, and relieve him of the sack if we wished him to come
over, for he could not go any further. Whereupon I went in the creek
again to him, and took from him the sack. Thus we all three waded
over. We dressed ourselves quickly, for it was very cold, putting on
our stiff legs the wet stockings, which chafed them, and over them the
water-soaked shoes and the breeches which were wet through with the
rain and very heavy; and then taking a mouth full of rum, we set out
again on the way, stiff as we were. We were now anxious in relation to
crossing this Millstone at half way, where it would be much broader
and fuller of water. We proceeded then badly conditioned, wet, cold,
and weary enough. We had thirty-six miles to travel to-day and more if
we missed the road. We kept up our spirits, however. We found the land
above so full of water, that we were most of the time over shoes in
it, and sometimes half leg deep. After we had gone four or five miles,
we saw the houses of the Indians on the right, and went to them
partly for the purpose of drying ourselves, for though the rain seemed
at times to abate it still continued, and partly to inquire the best
way to go, in order to cross the large creek. We entered their
dwelling where we dried ourselves and breakfasted a mouthful out of
travelling sacks. We presented the Indians some fish-hooks which
pleased them. As to crossing the large creek, they said it was not
advisable to wade over, as the water was as high as our shoulders or
higher, as one of them showed us, and the current was so swift as to
render it impassable. He said that not far from their house lived a
_sackemaker_ who had in the creek a canoe with which he had set a man
across the day before, who had a horse which he swam over; but the
_sackemaker_ was not pleased at his doing so without his permission.
We promised him a guilder to take us to the _sackemaker_. While we
were in this house a little naked child fell from its mother's lap,
and received a cut in its head, whereupon all who sat around that
fire, and belonged to that household, began to cry, husband and wife,
young and old, and scream more than the child, and as if they
themselves had broken their arms or legs. In another corner of this
house there sat around a fire, forming another household, a party
whose faces were entirely blackened, who observed a gloomy silence and
looked very singular. They were in mourning for a deceased friend. The
Indian, having made himself ready, took both our sacks together and
tied them on his back for the purpose of carrying them, which did not
suit us badly, as we were very tired. He did that without our asking
him, and conducted us in a direction more southeasterly to their king
or _sackemaker_, who lived two or three miles from there. On arriving
there, they immediately offered us some boiled beans in a calabash,
cooked without salt or grease, though they brought us our own kind of
spoons to take them out with. It was the queen who did this, who was
dressed more than the others. She gave us also a piece of their bread,
that is, pounded maize kneaded into a cake and baked under the ashes.
We ate some of it, more for the purpose of satisfying her people, than
our appetite. Meanwhile we agreed with the _sackemaker_ to set us
across the river for three guilders in _zeewan_. We presented
fish-hooks to several of them, but especially to the queen who had
entertained us. The _sackemaker_ being ready, took one of our sacks to
carry, and went on ahead of us; and there went this king, carrying our
pack, almost without any clothing on his body. He conducted us to the
creek which was two or three miles distant to the north and northeast
over a very difficult and rocky hill. On arriving at the creek we saw
there certainly would have been no way of going over, for the water
was very high, and ran like a sluice. We were then put across, I
myself helping the _sackemaker_ and our _sack-carrier_ in doing it, as
it was difficult to go over even in a canoe. He took us a piece of the
way, until we came to the right path, and gave us proper directions
how to proceed further. He was to come for our guide the next day and
carry him back.
We went on through water for the most part east-northeast, until about
three o'clock in the afternoon, when the rain began to hold up, and we
turned into a road on the right, which runs easterly to the Raritans
Kill.[276] We did this because it was nearer, as they said, and also
in order to go to a young Dutchman's and secure good lodgings, of
which we were truly in want. The other road led to Piskatteway to Mr.
Greenland's, where we stopped a night in going on; yet this road was
so long, and it was so difficult to travel continually through the
water, that we could hardly proceed any further, as my comrade was
entirely exhausted. We were, therefore, half afraid we should be
compelled to pass the night in the woods. We picked up courage,
however, as well as we could, and arrived at dusk at the house of
Cornelis van Langevelt,[277] stepson of Thomas the baker in New York.
He lived in that house alone with an Indian, who assisted him in
trading with the Indians, but he had some neighbors who were beginning
a new village on the land of this Thomas, the baker, directly opposite
Pescatteway, upon the point where the Millstone River unites itself
with the Raritans Kill, and flows down to Achter Kol. The begun
village had no name yet, but they intended to call it Nassau.[278]
This Dutchman was a good acquaintance of Beerent, our guide, and we
were, therefore, welcome. He had heard of our being at the South
River, and expected we would come over here, perhaps, he said, to be
neighbors. He recommended to us a piece of land here, but we had
neither time nor inclination to go and look at it.
[Footnote 276: They took the "lower road" or more easterly path to the
Raritan.]
[Footnote 277: Cornelis van Langevelt was married within the ensuing
year to Dr. Greenland's daughter; he was probably son of Cornelis van
Langevelt of New Amsterdam. Under the name Cornelius Longfield he
appears as deputy from Piscataway to the general assembly of East
Jersey in 1696-1697. "Thomas the baker in New York" is Thomas
Lawrence.]
[Footnote 278: At or near the present site of New Brunswick.]
[Illustration: PART OF THE MAP OF NEW YORK AND NEW ENGLAND IN
MONTANUS'S "NIEUWE WEERELD," 1671
From a copy in the New York Public Library]
We had special reasons to thank the Lord, and let our hearts ascend to
Him on account of several things which we here take notice of to His
glory, and in which His providence and goodness have assisted us.
First, if we had taken the before described Indian with us, there is
no probability we should have come right, he being a mere boy, without
experience, and not well acquainted with the road, especially under
such difficult circumstances; and, worst of all, we were not able to
speak a word with him. Our guide said several times, and we thought so
too, that when he had seen these difficulties, he would have deserted
us in the woods and run away, as he could easily have done, and we
should have been left alone. In the next place, we did not find the
Indian dwelling on the other side of the first crossing, as we had
wished, and supposed we should do. And if we had, what advice would
there have been for our crossing the second place? We should then have
been between the two crossings without any help. And thirdly,
notwithstanding all our hardships, our hearts possessed such strength
and courage until we happily arrived. To Him be glory therefor
forever.
Millstone River is not, as is usually supposed, the Raritans
Kill,[279] for that runs near this house on the right hand, due west,
and a little more southerly beyond, and this one before the house,
runs on the left hand, west-northwest, and a little more northerly
beyond. It has its source above the falls of the South River, not far
from that river, and runs for the most part north, and coming from
thence, makes several great bends, and therefore, in going from
Piscatteway to the South River, you must cross it three times. As far
as known, it is about twelve or fourteen Dutch miles to this place on
the Raritan. The Millstone is not very wide, which causes the current
to run so much swifter when there is much upper water. It has several
falls, and is shallow in dry weather. It is therefore not navigable,
though the Indians sometimes come down in their little canoes, made of
the bark of trees.
[Footnote 279: It is an affluent of the Raritan, coming into it from
the south.]
_31st, Sunday._ As we proposed to rest ourselves, we kept ourselves
quiet to-day. We paid our guide, giving him two ducatoons,[280] that
is, thirty-two guilders in _zeewant_, because he had a little more
trouble than either he or we had expected, and presented him with one
hundred fish-hooks in addition. He was well satisfied and thanked us.
He left after breakfast to return home. Meanwhile we expected a boat
which they said was coming to load with wood, but it did not come.
[Footnote 280: Say, two dollars and a half.]
1680, JANUARY _1st, Monday._ The boat not arriving, and Christmas,
according to the old style, being near, at which time there is not
much boating, every one endeavoring to be at home, we were
apprehensive it would not come. We therefore made an agreement with
one of the neighbors, that he should take us in a canoe to the French
tavern, which we have mentioned before, at Elizabethtown point, Kill
achter Kol, for twelve guilders in _zeewant_. We accordingly left
about ten o'clock in the morning, through a beautiful creek, which is
more like a river, with fine large meadows or marshes on both sides of
it. We came to a bank, from the broken point of which a beautiful
white clay is taken, as fine as I have ever seen anywhere, or as
Cologne earth[281] can be. At the same place there are also red earth,
and earth entirely black, which would be suitable for various
purposes. At the point of the Raritans Kill, we arrived at a place
called Amboy, a very proper site for a city or place of business. From
there you can look over the great bay between the Nevesinck and the
west point of Staten Island into the sea. As regards view, therefore,
it lies as well as New York, and is quite safe to be reached by ships.
The land around it is tolerably good, and therefore the place is
reserved from sale. There is an abundance of oysters on the shore,
considered to be of the best. The ebb tide being spent, we entered the
Kill achter Kol with a good wind and, rowing ahead, arrived at about
three o'clock at the point of Woodbridge Creek. We landed here on
Staten Island to drink at the house of the Frenchman _Le
Chaudronnier_, where we formerly passed a night in making our tour of
Staten Island. He set before us something to eat, and related to us
what strange opinions every one, as well as he himself, entertained of
us, which were certainly false enough, and whereof we disabused him.
From there we made good speed past Smokers Hook, and by evening
arrived at the point of Elizabethtown Creek, in the tavern before
mentioned, where we lodged for the night; but there was nothing to be
had there except to warm us. We were no sooner in the house than it
began to rain and blow hard. We were therefore lucky in being housed,
for to be in such weather and darkness upon the water in a canoe, is
not without danger. We again perceived the Lord's goodness and care,
for which we rendered Him thanks. We discovered no chance of going to
the city immediately, but heard that two boats had gone down this
afternoon, and were expected back the next day, which made us glad. We
had something left in our travelling sack, upon which we made our
supper, and then laid ourselves down to sleep in our old fashion upon
a little hay, before the fire.
[Footnote 281: Cologne earth is a brown ochre.]
_2d, Tuesday._ On looking out at daybreak, we found quite calm, good
weather, but no boats; but when it grew lighter, we saw a boat lying
at anchor below the point. She appeared to be laden, and we therefore
could not be certain that she would come up further. It was in
consequence of her being laden that she had waited there for daylight,
although she had a good tide to sail up to the city. We ascertained
she was one of those which had gone down the evening before; and
thereupon looked about to see how to get on board of her, as it would
not be long before she would leave. The landlord took us and another
person in a canoe to put on board, but before we had paddled half way,
we saw them weigh anchor, and get under sail. We called out, and
pulled with all our might, and, as it was calm, overtook her in time,
and went on board. They were Dutchmen from the city, and were even our
neighbors. They cheerfully received us; we paid our landlord, who
immediately rowed back.
The wind began to blow gradually more and more from the
west-northwest, so that when we arrived in the North River, we had as
much as we could carry. It brought us up to the city about nine
o'clock, where we had not yet set a foot on shore, before such a storm
burst out of the northwest, of rain, hail, and snow together, that
every thing seemed to bend and crack. It was at the same time so cold,
it appeared as if this weather, whereby the winter was begun, had held
back until we had arrived in the city to spend the winter. We cannot
pass this circumstance by without some reflections upon the special
goodness and providence of the Lord, which we experience so
constantly; that he caused us to reach the land and house on the point
of Elizabethtown Creek before the storm came up there; that the boat
came to anchor there and took us on board, when she had a good tide
and wind, but the darkness prevented her from keeping on, and we
believe no more boats went there afterwards, not only during
Christmas, but during the whole winter; and thirdly, that as soon as
we had landed in the city, such a great storm and the winter began at
the same time; to which may be added a fourth, that we hired the canoe
on the Raritans, for being in the city, I spoke to the skipper of the
boat, and he said he did not expect to go there again during the
winter. Certainly if we did not regard all this with an humble and
thankful heart, we should be guilty indeed.
But before we depart from New Jersey, we must remark that my Lord
Carteret, having obtained this government, sent here his nephew[282]
Carteret, to manage the same in his own way. This Carteret arriving
here from England, accordingly, for the purpose of governing it, went
first to New England,[283] where he so recommended his plan of
government, and promised the people so much if they would go with him,
that he caused a large number of persons to follow him here from
Piscataway and Woodbridge, two places so called in New England, and
settle down in New Jersey, where they have built two villages, called
Piscataway and Woodbridge, after the names of the places where they
had lived in New England. And indeed they did not do badly in view of
the soil, because it is much richer here than where they were,
although they did not choose the best land here by far. Besides these
people, he found here already a large number of other persons at
Gmoenepa, Bergen, etc.
[Footnote 282: Governor Philip Carteret was a cousin of the
proprietary.]
[Footnote 283: Sent word, rather. Governor Carteret arrived in New
Jersey late in 1665. Piscataway was so named from Piscataqua in New
Hampshire (Portsmouth), and Woodbridge from the Rev. John Woodbridge
of Newbury, Massachusetts, from which two places the first settlers
came.]
We were welcomed on our arrival by our old people, and we rejoiced and
praised God, for we had seen the storm coming while we were on the
water. We rested and warmed ourselves, then refreshed ourselves a
little, and in the afternoon, delivered a portion of the letters which
had been entrusted to us from the South River, and Maryland. Those
which we had from Ephraim and his wife, we gave to her mother and
father[284] who welcomed us. We told them of the good health of their
children, and the comfort and hope which they gave us, which pleased
them.
[Footnote 284: Step-father; Johannes van Brugh. See p. 94, note 1,
_supra_.]
_3d, Wednesday._ We put our chamber in order this morning, and in the
afternoon delivered the rest of the letters. We went also to M. de
Lagrange's, where we saw a newly drawn map of the South River, from
the falls to Burlington, made by the land surveyor there. He told us
the governor had given him a grant of a piece of land on the South
River between those places.