[Footnote 251: The first Lord Baltimore, George Calvert, who secured the patent of 1632, never voyaged to Maryland as here described. Also, the grant was definite in bounds, from the Potomac to 40 deg. N. lat. Cecilius Calvert, the second lord, died in 1675. Charles Calvert, the third, was at this time both proprietary and governor, having come out to his province this winter, arriving in February, 1680. The writer erroneously attributes the granting of Maryland to Queen Mary Tudor, predecessor of Queen Elizabeth, instead of to Queen Henrietta Maria.]

Thereafter, at the time of Queen Elizabeth, the settlers preferred the lowest parts of this great bay and the largest rivers which empty into it, either on account of proximity to the sea, and the convenience of the streams, or because the uppermost country smacked somewhat of the one from whom it derived its name and of its government. They have named this lower country Virginia, out of regard to Queen Elizabeth. It has been the most populous, though not the best land, and a government was established in Virginia distinct from that of Maryland. A governor arrived while we were there, to fill the place made vacant by the death of his predecessor.[252]

[Footnote 252: Lord Culpeper came out to Virginia as governor this year, arriving in May, 1680. His predecessor as governor, Sir William Berkeley, had been recalled and had died, but Colonel Jeffreys and Sir Henry Chicheley had meantime been lieutenant-governors successively.]

As to the present government of Maryland, it remains firm upon the old footing, and is confined within the limits before mentioned. All of Maryland that we have seen, is high land, with few or no meadows, but possessing such a rich and fertile soil, as persons living there assured me that they had raised tobacco off the same piece of land for thirty consecutive years. The inhabitants, who are generally English, are mostly engaged in this production. It is their chief staple, and the money with which they must purchase every thing they require, which is brought to them from other English possessions in Europe, Africa and America. There is, nevertheless, sometimes a great want of these necessaries, owing to the tobacco market being low, or the shipments being prevented by some change of affairs in some quarter, particularly in Europe, or indeed to both causes, as was the case at this time, whereby there sometimes arises a great scarcity of such articles as are most necessary, as we saw when there. So large a quantity of tobacco is raised in Maryland and Virginia, that it is one of the greatest sources of revenue to the crown by reason of the taxes which it yields. Servants and negroes are chiefly employed in the culture of tobacco, who are brought from other places to be sold to the highest bidders, the servants for a term of years only, but the negroes forever, and may be sold by their masters to other planters as many times as their masters choose, that is, the servants until their term is fulfilled, and the negroes for life. These men, one with another, each make, after they are able to work, from 2,500 pounds to 3,000 pounds and even 3,500 pounds of tobacco a year, and some of the masters and their wives who pass their lives here in wretchedness, do the same. The servants and negroes after they have worn themselves down the whole day, and come home to rest, have yet to grind and pound the grain, which is generally maize, for their masters and all their families as well as themselves, and all the negroes, to eat. Tobacco is the only production in which the planters employ themselves, as if there were nothing else in the world to plant but that, and while the land is capable of yielding all the productions that can be raised anywhere, so far as the climate of the place allows. As to articles of food, the only bread they have is that made of Turkish wheat or maize, and that is miserable. They plant this grain for that purpose everywhere. It yields well, not a hundred, but five or six hundred for one; but it takes up much space, as it is planted far apart like vines in France. This grain, when it is to be used for men or for similar purposes, has to be first soaked, before it is ground or pounded, because the grains being large and very hard, cannot be broken under the small stones of their light hand-mills; and then it is left so coarse it must be sifted. They take the finest for bread, and the other for different kinds of groats, which, when it is cooked, is called sapaen or homina. The meal intended for bread is kneaded moist without leaven or yeast, salt or grease and generally comes out of the oven so that it will hardly hold together, and so blue and moist that it is as heavy as dough; yet the best of it when cut and roasted, tastes almost like warm white bread, at least it then seemed to us so. This corn is also the only provender for all their animals, be it horses, oxen, cows, hogs, or fowls, which generally run in the woods to get their food, but are fed a little of this, mornings and evenings during the winter when there is little to be had in the woods; though they are not fed too much, for the wretchedness, if not cruelty, of such living, affects both man and beast. This is said not without reason, for a master having a sick servant, and there are many so, and observing from his declining condition, he would finally die, and that there was no probability of his enjoying any more service from him, made him, sick and languishing as he was, dig his own grave, in which he was to be laid a few days afterwards, in order not to busy any of the others with it, they having their hands full in attending to the tobacco.[253]

[Footnote 253: Despite these criticisms as to slavery, it appears, if we can accept the hostile testimony of Dittelbach, Verval en Val der Labadisten (Amsterdam, 1692), that Sluyter, when in control of the Labadist plantation at Bohemia Manor, employed slave labor without hesitation and with some harshness.]

A few vegetables are planted, but they are of the coarsest kinds and are cultivated in the coarsest manner, without knowledge or care, and they are, therefore, not properly raised, and do not amount to much as regards the production, and still less as to their use. Some have begun to plant orchards, which all bear very well, but are not properly cultivated. The fruit is for the greater part pressed, and makes good cider, of which the largest portion becomes soured and spoiled through their ignorance or negligence, either from not putting it into good casks, or from not taking proper care of the liquor afterwards. Sheep they have none, although they have what is requisite for them if they chose. It is matter of conjecture whether you will find any milk or butter even in summer; we have not found any there at this season of the year. They bestow all their time and care in producing tobacco; each cask or hogshead, as they call it, of which pays two English shillings on exportation, and on its arrival in England, two pence a pound, besides the fees for weighing and other expenses here, and freight and other charges beyond sea. When, therefore, tobacco only brings four or five pence, there is little or nothing left for the owner.

The lives of the planters in Maryland and Virginia are very godless and profane. They listen neither to God nor his commandments, and have neither church nor cloister. Sometimes there is some one who is called a minister, who does not as elsewhere, serve in one place, for in all Virginia and Maryland there is not a city or a village[254]—but travels for profit, and for that purpose visits the plantations through the country, and there addresses the people; but I know of no public assemblages being held in these places; you hear often that these ministers are worse than anybody else, yea, are an abomination.

[Footnote 254: No cities, of course, but some villages.]

When the ships arrive with goods, and especially with liquors, such as wine and brandy, they attract everybody, that is, masters, to them, who then indulge so abominably together, that they keep nothing for the rest of the year, yea, do not go away as long as there is any left, or bring anything home with them which might be useful to them in their subsequent necessities. It must therefore go hard with the household, and it is a wonder if there be a single drop left for the future. They squander so much in this way, that they keep no tobacco to buy a shoe or a stocking for their children, which sometimes causes great misery. While they take so little care for provisions, and are otherwise so reckless, the Lord sometimes punishes them with insects, flies, and worms, or with intemperate seasons, causing great famine, as happened a few years ago in the time of the last Dutch war with the English,[255] when the Lord sent so many weevils that all their grain was eaten up as well as almost all the other productions of the field, by reason of which such a great famine was caused that many persons died of starvation, and a mother killed her own child and ate it, and then went to her neighbors, calling upon them to come and see what she had done, and showing them the remains of her child, whereupon she was arrested and condemned to be hung. When she sat or stood on the scaffold, she cried out to the people, in the presence of the governor, that she was now going to God, where she would render an account, and would declare before him that what she had done she did in the mere delirium of hunger, for which the governor alone should bear the guilt; inasmuch as this famine was caused by the weevils, a visitation from God, because he, the governor, undertook in the preceding summer an expedition against the Dutch residing on the South River, who maintained themselves in such a good posture of defense, that he could accomplish but little; when he went to the Hoere-kill on the west side of that river, not far from the sea, where also he was not able to do much; but as the people subsisted there only by cultivating wheat, and had at this time a fine and abundant harvest in the fields—and from such harvests the people of Maryland generally, and under such circumstances as these particularly, were fed—he set fire to it, and all their other fruits, whether of the trees or the field; whereby he committed two great sins at the same time, namely, against God and his goodness, and against his neighbors, the Dutch, who lost it, and the English who needed it; and had caused more misery to the English in his own country, than to the Dutch in the enemy's country. This wretched woman protesting these words substantially against the governor, before Heaven and in the hearing of every one, was then swung up.

[Footnote 255: The war of 1672-1674. But the attack on the Hoere-kill (Whorekill, now Lewes, Delaware) was not an act of war against the Dutch, but an attack by Marylanders on inhabitants who were under the jurisdiction of the Duke of York, in a territory disputed between him and Lord Baltimore.]

In addition to what the tobacco itself pays on exportation, which produces a very large sum, every hundred acres of land, whether cultivated or not, has to pay one hundred pounds of tobacco a year, and every person between sixteen and sixty years of age must pay three shillings a year. All animals are free of taxation, and so are all productions except tobacco.

It remains to be mentioned that those persons who profess the Roman Catholic religion have great, indeed, all freedom in Maryland, because the governor makes profession of that faith, and consequently there are priests and other ecclesiastics who travel and disperse themselves everywhere, and neglect nothing which serves for their profit and purpose. The priests of Canada take care of this region, and hold correspondence with those here, as is supposed, as well as with those who reside among the Indians. It is said there is not an Indian fort between Canada and Maryland, where there is not a Jesuit who teaches and advises the Indians, who begin to listen to them too much; so much so, that some people in Virginia and Maryland as well as in New Netherland, have been apprehensive lest there might be an outbreak, hearing what has happened in Europe,[256] as well as among their neighbors at Boston; but they hope the result of the troubles there will determine many things elsewhere. The Lord grant a happy issue there and here, as well as in other parts of the world, for the help of His own elect, and the glory of His name.

[Footnote 256: The reference is to the Popish Plot in England; in respect to Boston, it is probably to King Philip's War, 1675-1676, and the hostilities along the Maine coast in 1677, though there is no reason to attribute these to French or Jesuit instigation. Yet possibly the great fire of August 8-9, 1679, is meant; see p. 269, note 1, infra.]

We will now leave Maryland, and come back to Sandhoeck [Newcastle], on the South River, where, in the house of our friend Ephraim Hermans, the Lord had brought us, and our friends received and lodged us with affectionate hearts.

16th, Saturday. Mr. Moll, who is the president [of the court] and one of the principal men here in the South, having finished his business in the court which was now ended, had intended to ride this morning to a plantation which he had recently purchased on Christina Kill, and would have been pleased to have had us accompany him, and look at the lands about there, which he said were very good; but as the hard and rainy weather of yesterday had not yet cleared up, he put off the journey until Monday, in hopes he would then have our company, when he would provide a horse for each of us, and Ephraim would also go with us. Meanwhile we went to see whether there would be any means of returning to the Manathans notwithstanding the ice, either by land or sea. If we should return by water, we should be able to see the lower parts of this river, the Hoere-kill and others; but no opportunity presented itself, because it was so late in the year, there being no navigating in consequence of every one being afraid of the ice.

17th, Sunday. We had an opportunity to-day to hear Domine Tessemaker, which we did, but never heard worse preaching, and I, therefore, had little desire to go again in the afternoon, though I was misled by the ringing of the bell. He is a man who wishes to effect some etablissement or reform here, but he will not accomplish much in that respect, as he not only has no grace therefor, but there seems to be something in his life which will hereafter manifest itself more. For the present we can say with truth that he is a perfect worldling.[257] It seems that in these spiritually, as well as physically, waste places, there is nevertheless a craving of the people to accept anything that bears even the name of food, in order to content rather than satisfy themselves therewith. Nevertheless the Lord will take pity upon these his lands, as we hope, for it appears indeed that the seed of the elect is here, especially among those of European descent.

[Footnote 257: Domine Petrus Tesschenmaker remained in charge of the church in Newcastle till 1682. After brief sojourns in New York and on Staten Island, he was called to the church in Schenectady. There he served from 1685 to 1690, when he was killed in the Indian massacre of that year.]

18th, Monday. We four, namely, Mr. Moll, Ephraim, my comrade and myself, after we had breakfasted, started about nine o'clock, on horseback, from Newcastle for Christina Kill. We observed the land through which we rode was sometimes only common soil, until we reached a plantation which Mr. Moll and Ephraim owned together, lying on a branch of that creek, and which was a good piece of land. Ephraim having finished the business for which he had come here, of having planks sawed for boarding a new clap-board house he had built, left us and rode back to Newcastle, and we continued on after we had looked at a grist-mill which the Swedes had constructed upon one of the branches of the creek, a considerable distance along another of them. We discovered here and there pieces of good land, but they were not large, and were along the creek. The greater portion of the country was only common land. Evening coming on, we rode back to the plantation of a Mr. Man, lying upon a neck of land called Cheese-and-bread Island, which is a good piece of ground, and up to which the creek is navigable for large boats or barks.[258] This man is a great friend of Mr. Moll. We were, therefore, very welcome, and slept there this night.

[Footnote 258: Bread and Cheese Island lay up Christina Creek, some ten miles west of present Wilmington, Delaware, and at the junction of Red Clay Creek and White Clay Creek. The planter was Abraham Mann, who in 1683 was sheriff and member of assembly for Newcastle County.]

19th, Tuesday. After breakfast we rode out in company with Mr. Man, to look at several pieces of land which they very highly recommended to us, but it was because, as they said, they wished to have good neighbors, though sometimes neighbors did not amount to much. It was now in the afternoon, and we rode towards home, over a plain where the deer ran out of the road in herds. Coming to the large creek, which is properly called Christina Kill, we found Mr. Moll had not correctly calculated the tide, for he supposed it would be low water or thereabouts, whereas the water was so high that it was not advisable to ride through it with horses, and we would have to wait until the water had fallen sufficiently for that purpose. While we were waiting, and it began to get towards evening, an Indian came on the opposite side of the creek, who knew Mr. Moll, and lived near there at that time, and had perhaps heard us speak. He said that we should have to wait there too long; but if we would ride a little lower down, he had a canoe in which he would carry us over, and we might swim the horses across. We rode there at once, and found him and his canoe. We unsaddled the horses, and he swam them over one by one, being in the canoe and holding them by the bridle. When we were over, we quickly saddled them and rode them as fast as they could run, so that they might not be cold and benumbed. It was entirely dark, and we remarked to each other the providence of the Lord in this Indian coming there; for otherwise we should not have known how to find the way through the woods in consequence of the great darkness. It was bad enough as it was, on a path that both the horses and Mr. Moll were acquainted with, for we could scarcely see each other sometimes. We reached Newcastle happily about eight o'clock in the evening, much rejoiced, and thanking Mr. Moll.

20th, Wednesday. While we were in Maryland, and were crossing over the Sassafras River, we saw a small English ship lying there, which they told us would leave about the English Christmas.[259] We now learned from Mr. Moll, that he was going to write by her, and was willing if we wrote, to allow our letters to go to London under cover of his; and also that he should soon go to Maryland to attend the court now about to be held there. We determined, therefore, not to permit the opportunity to pass by of writing home.

[Footnote 259: Our travellers used the new style, current in Holland (though not in Friesland), the English and their colonists the old. Christmas of old style was January 4 of new.]

21st, Thursday. We finished our letters to-day. We perceived it would be in vain to wait for a chance to go to the Manathans by sea, and there would be no opportunity to go up the river. We, therefore, finally concluded to hire a canoe and a person to take us up the river; and accordingly agreed with one Jan Boeyer,[260] for fifty guilders in zeewan, and a dollar for the canoe a day, to leave the next day if it were possible. Whereupon, Ephraim and his wife, who had done their best herein, as well as other friends, set about writing letters for us to take to the Manathans. Meantime, Ephraim received news that his father was near his end, and had to be handled by one or two men to turn him in bed, and that he desired once more to speak to him.

[Footnote 260: Jan Boeyer was constable of Newcastle the next year.]

22d, Friday. It had frozen some this morning, and Jan Boeyer manifested little disposition to go up the river, declaring that with such a frost as this, the river above was all frozen up; and though there was no probability of it, we had to wait. Ephraim and Mr. Moll left together for Maryland to see Ephraim's father, who wanted to speak to him, as we heard, in relation to the land or manor which he possessed there; for while he had given portions to all his other children, namely, one son and three daughters, he had made Ephraim, his oldest son, heir of his rank and manor, according to the English law, as fils de commys,[261] that is, Ephraim could enjoy the property during his life, and hire or sell it for that period, but upon his death, it must go to his oldest son, and so descend from heir to heir. Mr. Moll was the witness of this, and had the papers in his care. It seemed that the father wished to make some change because we had been there, and he had offered us a part of the land.[262] We, therefore, think we shall hear what he shall have done in the matter.

[Footnote 261: For fideicommissum.]

[Footnote 262: Augustine Herrman did not die till 1686. In 1684 he executed his final deed of conveyance to Peter Sluyter alias Vorsman, Jasper Danckaerts alias Schilders, Petrus Bayard of New York (nephew of Governor Stuyvesant and ancestor of all the Bayards of Delaware), John Moll, and Arnoldus de La Grange, conveying the "Labadie Tract" of some 3750 acres on the north side of Bohemia River. Moll and de La Grange immediately released their interest in the land to Danckaerts and Sluyter, Bayard did so in 1688, and Danckaerts in 1693, from Holland, conveyed to Sluyter all his rights. Augustine Herrman at his death conveyed the rest of Bohemia Manor to his son Ephraim as an entailed estate. But evidently he had by that time repented of his dealings with the Labadists, for a codicil to his will appoints trustees to carry it out because "my eldest Sonn Ephraim Herman ... hath Engaged himself deeply unto the labady faction and religion, seeking to perswade and Entice his Brother Casparus and sisters to Incline thereunto alsoe, whereby itt is upon Good ground suspected that they will prove no True Executors of This my Last Will of Entailement ... but will Endeavour to disanull and make it voide, that the said Estates may redound to the Labady Communality." MS., Md. Hist. Soc.]

Although it had frozen hard, yet when the sun rose high about nine o'clock, it was ordinarily pleasant and handy weather, but there was no decision on the part of our skipper to leave. In the meantime we had the house with Ephraim's wife alone, and, therefore, more freedom and opportunity to speak to her of God, and godly things, which she well received. We expect something good from her as well as from Ephraim.

23d, Saturday. The weather was milder, and there was some fog which cleared away as the sun rose. We went to see Jan Boeyer again, but he had no intention to make the journey. We heard it was not so much on account of the ice, as of the small-pox, which prevailed very much up the river, and which he had never had. There was no use of striving with him, and we determined, therefore, to hire somebody else, if we could find any person. Mr. Peter Aldrix made inquiry for us, but to no purpose, and we had to wait and depend upon God's providence. We heard, however, of some people who had arrived in a canoe from Christina Kill, and that even in that creek there was no ice yet, or up the river.

24th, Sunday. Domine Tessemaker being at Apoquemene, there was no preaching to-day at Newcastle but some reading. We went, however, to the church, in order not to give offense. Much of the reading we could not bear, but we hope others were more edified than we expected to be.

It was very fine weather and it annoyed us that we had to wait so. This evening there arrived a canoe with Swedes, who had come from half way below the falls, and of whom we inquired whether there were any ice up the river. They said there was not, and they were going back the next day. We endeavored to make an agreement with them to carry us, but they asked entirely too much, namely, an anker[263] of rum, which would amount to about 120 guilders in zeewan: whereupon we rebuked them for their exorbitancy. The Swedes and Finns, particularly, have this fault, and generally towards strangers; but as it seemed to me they had drunk a little too much, we let the matter rest in the hope they would talk more reasonably to-morrow.

[Footnote 263: About ten gallons.]

25th, Monday. The weather being good, we spoke again to our Swedes, but they continued obstinate; and also to Jan Boeyer, but nothing could be done with him either. While we were standing on the shore talking with them about leaving, I saw coming down the river a boat which looked very much like that of the Quaker of Upland,[264] as indeed it was. He landed at Newcastle and was going to Ephraim's house, where he had some business to transact, intending to leave the next day. We asked him if he was willing to take us with him, and he said he would do so with pleasure. We were rejoiced, observing the providence of the Lord who took such fatherly care of us. There stood Jan Boeyer and the Swedes cheated by their own covetousness. Robert Wade and his wife lodged at Ephraim's, which assured us our journey would be commenced the next day.

[Footnote 264: Robert Wade. See p. 105.]

26th, Tuesday. All the letters having been collected together, which we were to take with us and deliver, and the Quaker having finished his business, we breakfasted together, and courteously took leave of all our acquaintances; but especially with some love, of Madame Ephraim, named Elizabeth van Rodenburgh. She had shown us much kindness, and given us good hope that the Lord will not forget her therein.

We will observe before leaving Sand-hoek, that it has always been the principal place on the South River, as well in the time of the English as of the Dutch. It is now called Newcastle by the English. It is situated on the west side of the river upon a point which extends out with a sandy beach, affording a good landing place, better than is to be found elsewhere on that account. It lies a little above the bay where the river bends and runs south from there, so that you can see down the river southerly, the greater portion of it, which presents a beautiful view in perspective, and enables you to see from a distance the ships which come out of the great bay and sail up the river. Formerly all ships were accustomed to anchor here, for the purpose of paying duties or obtaining permits, and to unload when the goods were carried away by water in boats or barks, or by land in carts. It was much larger and more populous at that time, and had a small fort called Nassau; but since the country has belonged to the English, ships may no longer come here, or they must first declare and unload their cargoes at New York, which has caused this little place to fall off very much, and even retarded the settlement of plantations. What remains of it consists of about fifty houses, almost all of wood. The fort is demolished, but there is a good block-house, having some small cannon, erected in the middle of the town, and sufficient to resist the Indians or an incursion of Christians; but it could not hold out long. This town is the capital of justice, where the high court of the South River is held, having three other courts subordinate to it, from which appeals lie to it, as they do from it to New York, and from New York to England. These three minor courts are established, one at Salem, a small village of Quakers newly commenced on the east side of the river not far from Newcastle[265]; another is at Upland, on the west side above Newcastle, a Swedish village, and the third is at Burlington, a new Quaker village on the east side of the river above Newcastle. Newcastle is about eighty miles from the falls, and the same distance from the mouth of the river or the sea. The water in the river at Newcastle at ordinary flood tide is fresh, but when it is high spring tide, or the wind blows hard from the south or southeast, it is brackish, and if the wind continues long or it is hard weather it becomes a little saltish. With a new or full moon it makes high water at Newcastle at five o'clock. The principal persons whom we have seen are Mr. Moll and his wife, Ephraim Hermans and his wife, Pieter Aldrix and his wife, and Domine Tessemaker.

[Footnote 265: Salem, New Jersey, had been founded by John Fenwick in 1675.]

As regards Mr. Moll, he lived in his youth at Amsterdam, in order to learn business. He afterwards went to Bristol, in England, where he carried on a reasonably large business which he had begun to do at Amsterdam. In the war between England and Holland, he lost so much that he failed, or made an agreement with his creditors. He, therefore, immigrated to this country, and after trading in Virginia and Maryland some time, came to Newcastle to live, where he has two or three plantations, upon which he raises tobacco, more for the purpose of paying his creditors, as he himself informed me, than because he seeks this manner of gain and life, intending, as soon as he can release himself, to go and live upon the land, and support himself by what God may be pleased to give him. Touching the hope of grace discoverable in him it is very slight, although he has listened with attention to all we have said to him, requesting us to continue, and that he might be favored with a letter from us on the subject, or some books such as we might deem necessary, and willing, with a full heart, to do us every service in his power in these quarters or elsewhere, as he had done many, and endeavored to do still more. The Lord will do for him as it pleases him.

The wife of Mr. Moll is an English woman, a pious Independent. When he married her, she lived in a large house where many persons dwelt together, separate from all other assemblies and the attachments of the world, seeking nothing except to serve God in peace and uprightness, and having their own preacher and other ministers. But with all this she remains a great mundane, as to which we have spoken to her. They have only one son.

Ephraim Hermans is the oldest child of Augustine Hermans, there being two brothers and three sisters, one of whom lives now at Amsterdam. They are all of a Dutch mother, after whose death their father married an English woman, who is the most artful and despicable creature that can be found. He is a very godless person, and his wife, by her wickedness, has compelled all these children to leave their father's house and live elsewhere. Ephraim, the oldest, having gone into business, settled at Newcastle, his oldest sister keeping house for him. He had for a long time sought in marriage at New York, a daughter of the late governor of the island of Carsou [Curacao], in the Caribbean Sea, belonging to the Dutch West India Company, whose name was Johan van Rodenburgh.[266] She lived with her mother on the Manhatan, who, after the death of her husband, Rodenburgh, married one Joannes van Burgh, by whom she had several children. Her daughter, Elizabeth van Rodenburgh, being of a quiet turn of mind, and quite sickly, had great inclination to remain single. Ephraim, however, finally succeeded in his suit, and married her at New York. He brought her with him to Newcastle on the South River, and we accompanied them on the journey. Ephraim had been a bad, artful fellow in his youth, and lived in all godless ways, but the Lord seized his heart, whereby he began to repent, and saw that he must live otherwise, the Lord compelling him. He found, however, no ground or strength, but having a good conception of spiritual matters or religion, as far as could be the case in such a man, he saw nothing but untruth, falsehood, and deception in all that was done in relation to God and godly things, and great hypocrisy in the best persons with whom he was acquainted. Convinced of this, and seeing no better result, he remained in suspense, although he professed the doctrines of the Reformed, and was a member of their church. Seeing our life, and hearing us speak, he has begun to see the difference, and discover the truth received in the heart. He has examined himself in several things, and corrected them, and was disposed to do more, as we had persuaded him. May the Lord bestow upon him His true grace, who puts it in our hearts to beseech this for him with confidence. We commit all to Him.

[Footnote 266: Lucas Rodenburgh was vice-director of Curacao from 1644 to 1655.]

His wife, Elizabeth van Rodenburgh, has the quietest disposition we have observed in America. She is politely educated. She has had through her entire youth a sleeping sickness of which she seems now to be free. She has withdrawn herself much from the idle company of youth, seeking God in quiet and solitude. She professes the Reformed religion, is a member of that church, and searches for the truth which she has found nowhere except in the word and preaching, which she therefore much attended upon and loved, but which never satisfied her, as she felt a want and yearning after something more. She was so pleased at our being near her, and lodged at her house, she could not abstain from frequently declaring so, receiving all that we said to her with gratitude, desiring always to be near us; and following the example of her husband, she corrected many things, with the hope and promise of persevering if the Lord would be pleased so to give her grace. We were indeed comforted with these two persons, who have done much for us out of sincere love. The Lord pities them, and will keep His promise to this house.

Margaret Hermans possesses a good disposition, although a little wild, according to the nature of the country. She complained that she was like a wild and desolate vine, trained up in a wild and desolate country; that she had always felt an inclination to know more of God quietly, and to serve Him, hoping the Lord would be merciful to her. She treated us with great affection, and received thankfully and acceptably what we said to her. We did not see her on our return, as she had gone to attend upon her father; and we therefore have not conversed much with her. The Lord will do with her as it pleases Him.

As to Mr. Pieter Aldrix he is a man of Groningen. He came to this country in the year '63 or '64, for the Lord Burgomasters of Amsterdam, as chief of their cargoes and storehouse in respect of the trade with the Indians, and thus was at the head of their office on the South River. Whether he had been in this country before or not, I do not know.[267] He did not occupy his place long, for the English shortly afterwards took the country and deprived him of all he had; yet he has remained here, gaining his livelihood by various means as well as he can, and seems to have gradually succeeded. He had a ketch made for the purpose of trading to the [West India] Islands, and elsewhere. He has a large family of children, and others. He sought to render us as much service as he could, but for the things of grace he is not inclined. He is a mundane, but is not vicious. The Lord can use him as it pleases Him.

[Footnote 267: Peter Alrichs came over in 1657.]

These are the persons at Newcastle with whom we have some acquaintance, and such the hope they have given us. We have promised them to continue it, and write to them, and send them such books as we might deem necessary for them.

Returning now to our boat, it left about ten o'clock for a place a little higher up the river where they had to take in some wheat, and where we were to go on foot, with the Quaker's wife. We reached it about noon, and found the boat laden, and lying high up on the land, so that we had to wait until the tide was half flood. We saw there a piece of meadow or marsh, which a Dutch woman had dyked in, and which they assured us had yielded an hundred for one, of wheat, notwithstanding the hogs had done it great damage. The boat getting afloat, we left about three o'clock, and moved up with the tide. The weather was pleasant and still, with a slight breeze sometimes from the west, of which we availed ourselves; but it did not continue long, and we had to rely upon our oars. We arrived at Upland about seven o'clock in the evening, and it was there only half flood, so much later does the tide make there than at Newcastle. The Quaker received us kindly, gave us supper, and counselled with us as to how we should proceed further. We were shown a better place to sleep than we had when we were here before.

27th, Wednesday. It rained some during the night and it was very misty early in the morning. Before the tide served to leave, we agreed with this man who had brought us up, to send us in his boat to Burlington, with two boys to manage it, paying him twenty guilders for the boat, and three guilders a day to each of the boys for three days, amounting in the whole to thirty-eight guilders; but one of the boys wishing too much, he determined to take us up himself. A good wind coming out of the south, we breakfasted and dined in one meal, and left about ten o'clock, with a favorable wind and tide, though at times the wind was quite sharp. We sailed by Tinakonk again, but did not land there. It began at noon to rain very hard, and continued so the whole day, and also blew quite hard. We ran aground on the lee shore upon a very shallow and muddy place, from which we got off with difficulty. On account of this and other accidents, if we had had the boys it would have been bad for us. We arrived at Wykakoe,[268] a Swedish village on the west side of the river, in the evening at dusk, where we went, all wet, into the house of one Otto, who had three children lying sick with the small-pox. We dried ourselves here partly. He gave us supper and took us to sleep all together in a warm stove room, which they use to dry their malt in and other articles. It was very warm there, and our clothes in the morning were entirely dry.

[Footnote 268: Wicacoa was in the southeastern part of the present area of Philadelphia, where Gloria Dei Church, still standing, was erected by the Swedes in 1697.]

28th, Thursday. It was flood at daylight when we left, but had not gone far before I discovered I had left one of my gloves behind, whereupon we ran the boat ashore, and I went back and found it. My comrade was more unfortunate, for after we had proceeded full two hours, and when we were going to breakfast on what our female friend had given us, he found he had left his knife and fork; but we had gone too far to lose the time to go back for them. The weather was foggy, but when the sun had risen a little, it cleared away and became pleasant and calm. We therefore advanced rapidly, rowing with the tide, and reached Takany of which we have before spoken, about ten o'clock, and where we landed a person who had come up with us. We continued on, and as the tide just commenced rising there we had a constant flood tide with us to Burlington, where we arrived about two o'clock. We were put ashore on an island of Peter Aldrix[269] who had given us a letter of recommendation to a person living there, and working for him. We paid Robert Wade who and his wife are the best Quakers we have found. They have always treated us kindly. He went immediately over to Burlington where he did not stop long, and took the ebb tide and rowed with it down the river. It was not high tide for an hour and a half after we arrived at the island, and there is, therefore, a difference of eleven hours or more in the same tide from Newcastle.

[Footnote 269: A manuscript map of the upper Delaware, which accompanies the journal, shows a plantation of Peter Alrichs on the right bank, opposite Matinnaconk Island and Burlington, and near the present Bristol, Pennsylvania.]

The man who lived on this island was named Beerent ——, and came from Groningen. He was at a loss to know how to get us on further. Horses, absolutely, he could not furnish us; and there was no Indian about to act as a guide, as they had all gone out hunting in the woods, and none of them had been at his house for three weeks. To accompany us himself to Achter Kol or the Raritans, and return, could not be accomplished in less than four days, and he would have to leave his house meantime in charge of an Indian woman from Virginia, who had left her husband, an Englishman, and with two children, one of which had the small-pox, was living with him; and she could be of no use to any one, whether Indians or other persons who might come there. We were compelled again to wait upon the providence of the Lord.

About three o'clock in the afternoon a young Indian arrived with whom we agreed to act as our guide, for a duffels coat which would cost twenty-four guilders in zeewant, that is, about five guilders in the money of Holland; but he had a fowling-piece with him which he desired first to take and have repaired at Burlington, and would then come back. He accordingly crossed over, but we waited for him in vain, as he did not return. The greatest difficulty with him was, that we could not speak the Indian language, and he could not speak a word of anything else. He not coming, we asked Beerent if he would not undertake the task, which, after some debate, he consented to do. He arranged his affairs accordingly, and prepared himself by making a pair of shoes or foot-soles of deer skin, which are very comfortable, and protect the feet. That was done in half an hour. We were to give him thirty guilders in zeewant, with which he was satisfied.

29th, Friday. We breakfasted, and left about ten o'clock in a canoe, which set us on the west side of the river, along which a foot-path runs a part of the way, in an east-northeast direction, and then through the woods north-northeast. We followed this path until we came to a plantation, newly begun by a Quaker, where we rested and refreshed ourselves. We agreed with this man, who came in the house while we were there, that he should put us over the river for three guilders in zeewant. We crossed over about one o'clock, and pursued a foot-path along the river, which led us to a cart-road, and following that we came to the new grist-mill at the falls, which, in consequence of the great flow of water, stood in danger of being washed away.[270] Crossing here, we began our journey in the Lord's name, for there are no houses from this point to Peskatteway, an English village on the Raritans. We had now gone twelve or thirteen miles from Peter Aldrix's island, and it was about two o'clock in the afternoon.

[Footnote 270: See p. 96, note 1.]

We must here make some general observations in relation to the South River. The Dutch, who first discovered and took possession of it, so named it, undoubtedly because it empties into the sea in the most southerly part of New Netherland, to wit, in latitude 39 deg. north, being one degree and twenty minutes, or more, further south than the mouth of the North River. It runs up from the sea northwesterly, making a fine, large bay, much better than that of the North River, or Godyn's Bay.[271] It is not only of greater length, which is about forty miles, with a breadth of six or seven miles; but it has a fine bottom of sand, and gravel reefs all along the banks. The water is purer up above. From the inside or middle of the bay, its course to the narrow part, or river, is mostly south [north] or bent gradually from northwest to north, with here and there a small bay, and it continues running so, from twenty to twenty-four miles, or more, to Newcastle, where it bends to the east to northeast, with several bays on both sides, to Upland and Tinakonk, a distance of twenty-four miles. At Tinakonk, it runs about east or east-northeast, but having passed that island it bears off again, north to northeast; also, with several bays to Wykakoe about twenty miles, and continuing so to Takany, sixteen miles. From Takany to Burlington, it runs again more easterly and east-northeast twenty miles, thence due east six miles, where there is a round bay turning north to north-northwest to the falls four miles, so that from the falls to the sea coast it is about eighty English miles, or twenty Dutch miles, from Newcastle each way. It has numerous fine navigable creeks on both sides of it, which are like small rivers running far inland, but how far is not yet known; nor is it known how far the South River extends above the falls, as they have not explored above them. This river is generally very clear. I do not know that there is anything above to be avoided, except occasionally a muddy point on the margins. Heavy ships, drawing ten, twelve, and fourteen feet water, go up the river as far as Burlington, and higher; but in the great bend where it runs to the falls, it can be navigated close to the falls by boats, drawing five and six feet and more. The land on the east side is generally lower than on the west, and is not so good. It continues very flat, deep into the country, as you go far down. On the west side the land is tolerably high, immediately off from the river, and is generally good all the way down. Both sides being low, this river is better to navigate than the North River, for that has very high banks, which being frightfully steep and rocky, it is subject to great whirlwinds and squalls, which, coming suddenly over the hills, fall upon the river, which is no small inconvenience. The water which comes over the falls is pure and clear, and is quite blue, but running lower down, it gradually becomes muddy, but is entirely clear again at Takany, and reasonably so at Wikakoe; further on it becomes thick, but it is always good. As to the salubrity of the climate of which we did not say anything when we spoke of Maryland, it is certain that Virginia being the lowest on the sea, is the most unhealthy where they [die] by thousands sometimes of the epidemical disease of the country. In Maryland, which lies higher up from the sea than Virginia, it is more healthy, although it is subject to the epidemic. Therefore, all those who come into the country, must undergo this sickness without escape. Even the children who are born there are not excepted, as those who live there and have experienced it told us when we were there. And although their manner of life is the cause of much irregularity in their health, there is nevertheless something in the atmosphere which produces disease: but this will become gradually better, as the country is measurably populated, and thereby becomes more cleared, as experience shows is true of all the lands in America which have been unhealthy. The uppermost parts of Maryland are more healthy than those lowest down. The South River is more salubrious than Maryland, as it lies higher. It partakes however somewhat of the nature of Maryland, especially below, but with great difference, which every year increases. The higher the more healthy; although at the Hoerekil, which is near the sea, it is as healthy as anywhere, because it is well populated. In the upper part of the river it is as healthy as it can be anywhere, and for myself, I believe that New Netherland has not a place in it which is not healthier than any part of old Netherlands in the United Provinces, and is becoming every day more salubrious, especially if they live here as they do in Holland. The North River is entirely healthy, for it lies much higher up than the South River, that is further to the north, and although it is nearer the sea than where they live in Maryland and on the South River, it is nevertheless more wholesome, which shows that it is not the air of the sea which causes the insalubrity, but other reasons which I will not consider at present.

[Footnote 271: New York Bay; so named from Samuel Godyn, one of the earliest patentees of New Netherland.]

As the Hollanders were the first discoverers of this river, they were also the first residents, settling themselves down in small numbers at the Hoerekil and thereabouts, and at Santhoeck, though the most people and the capital of the country were at the Manhatans, under the rule and authority of the West India Company.[272] The Indians killed many of them because they did not live well with them, especially with their women, from which circumstance this kill derives its name. Others fled to the Manhatans, but afterwards returned, and have since continued in possession of the river, although in small numbers and with little strength. Meanwhile some Swedish soldiers, who had been in the service of the West India Company, went to Sweden, and there made known the fact that the country was so large the Hollanders could not possess it all, especially the river called the South River, lying next to Virginia, their old friends, and that it was only necessary to go there with a small number of people to take possession of it, as no one in that country was powerful enough to prevent it. They accordingly ordered a levy to be made of men, half of them under the name of soldiers, and half of boors, and sent them under a certain commander to settle on the west side of the river, well knowing where the best and healthiest climate was, namely, up the river, and being thus near their friends, the English. Whether these good friends, here or in Europe, have not assisted them in this matter, is not known. They thus established themselves there, the Hollanders either being not strong enough or too negligent to prevent them, whilst the West India Company began gradually to fail, and did not hinder them. The Swedes therefore remained, having constructed small fortresses here and there, where they had settled and had Swedish governors.

[Footnote 272: The settlement at the Whorekill was Swanendael, founded by David de Vries and other Dutch patroons in 1631. See his Notes in Narratives of Early Pennsylvania, West New Jersey, and Delaware, in this series. The origin of New Sweden was quite different from what is stated in the text. It sprang from commercial companies formed in Sweden, allied with Dutch merchants.]

The Hollanders did not abandon this river, but they, as well as the Swedes, sought to advance their settlements; but although the whole country belonged to them, they were nevertheless unable to possess it, the company either having too much to do elsewhere, or not ability sufficient, or sending over too few people. They always however had their forts, without hindrance or molestation from the Swedes, or being brought under their dominion. This continued during the time the burgomasters of the city of Amsterdam had this territory under their protection, up to the year 1664, when Governor Stuyvesant went there with a large force, planted himself before the fortress of Christina on Christina Kill, cannonaded it and compelled them to surrender it with all their government to him, in the name of the city of Amsterdam.[273] In that year the whole country was reduced under the dominion of the crown of England, which put an end to the rule of the Hollanders, who had then recently conquered the Swedes.

[Footnote 273: The conquest of New Sweden by the Dutch under Stuyvesant took place in 1655; narratives of it are in the volume just named and in Narratives of New Netherland, in this series. The surrender was of course not demanded in the name of the city of Amsterdam but in that of the Dutch republic, the United Provinces. The Dutch West India Company in 1656 sold a part of the territory to the city of Amsterdam.]

The east side of the river, which is now entirely in the possession 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.]



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.

But what grieved us was, on arriving here to find no letters by Captain Jacob, when we had so much expected them, and did not know the cause of there being none. But we consoled ourselves in Him who is the consolation of all those who know Him and trust in Him; as we praised and thanked Him for His fatherly protection. His constant care and guidance, through His providence, which has been so continual and so manifest in our whole journey. He causes us to put our trust in Him, to lose ourselves in Him, and worthily to walk in such grace that He may be glorified in us and through us here, during our lives, in grace, and hereafter in glory. Amen. So may it be.

It would serve very well to add now a general description of the country through which we have travelled, and of each part in particular; but as we intend to give ourselves expressly to this work, we will omit it here, and proceed, meanwhile, with our journal.

End of the Journey to the Southward.



[IN NEW YORK.]

Continuation, of what happened in New York during the Winter.

4th, Thursday. It was now Christmas, according to the old style. It had frozen very hard during the night. We went to church, in order to hear Do. Niewenhuise preach, but more to give no offense to the people, than either on his or our own account.

5th, Thursday [Friday]. We began writing.

6th, Friday [Saturday]. It continued to freeze hard, though during the day the weather was more moderate. The ice was strong and mixed with snow.

13th, Saturday. It felt like a change of weather. In all this time nothing occurred worthy of note except the ships left the harbor in front of the city, on Thursday, for Deutel Bay, a cove of Long Island in the East River, about three miles east of the city, opposite Hellgate, where they lie during the winter, to be out of the way of the floating ice, which is sometimes very great.[285] On Friday, the governor's yacht arrived from Virginia, having been twenty-two days on the way. They had brought a sackemaker from there with whom the governor had negotiated for peace between the Indians and English in that quarter. In all this frost and cold we have discovered little difference from the cold in Holland, except that when the sun is high, that is, about nine o'clock in the morning, it is a little milder here. It thawed every day until the

16th, Tuesday, when all the ice and snow disappeared. De la Grange having a new small map of a portion of the South River, I copied it.

[Footnote 285: Deutel Bay was a small bight in the East River, about at the foot of Forty-seventh Street. The name was later corrupted into Turtle Bay. It was not a cove of Long Island.]

24th, Wednesday. Fred. Flipsen[286] met me, and told me the governor had been at his house, and spoken to him about us, and that he desired to see us and talk with us. We, therefore, determined to call upon him, and at the expiration of three days of rain and stormy weather, on the

25th [26th], Friday, we went to Fredryck Flipsen, that he might take us to the governor, as he had promised, and as he did do. The governor received us kindly, and told us he had wondered at our being so long in the country without coming to see him. We replied, that we should undoubtedly not have failed in doing so, if he had been in the city, for when we arrived here he was at Penequik,[287] and afterwards when he had been only a few days at home, with much business to occupy him, he left for Fort Albany just as we were going to the South River. We parted politely from each other.

[Footnote 286: See p. 5, note 1, supra.]

[Footnote 287: Pemaquid, on the Maine coast, where Governor Andros had caused a fort to be erected, which he visited in the autumn of 1679.]

30th [29th], Monday. A person who, they said, was the thief-catcher, came to our house in the evening, and, by order of the governor, summoned us to appear at eight o'clock the next morning at the house of —— Rombouts,[288] the mayor of the city, and give our names and further information as to our doings and condition, as all strangers now and henceforth, whether men or women, must do. We were somewhat astonished, since they had told us, as was certainly true, that such had never been the custom. What induced them to adopt this course, we do not know.

[Footnote 288: Francis Rombouts was mayor of New York in 1679-1680.]

31st [30th], Tuesday. We went in company with the old woman where we lodged, to Mayor Rombouts, at the appointed time. When we arrived, there was a magistrate's officer or two in attendance, and some came in while we were there. Addressing us, he said: "Friends, we have summoned you here, not because we have anything to say to you, or have any debt to claim, or because any one has sought of us to demand of you any such thing, or to summon you." The reason, he said, was because we had been so long in the country without having reported our names, who we were, our profession, trade or business, condition and purpose. We answered, we would by no means have been in default, if there were any law or order which required us to do so, or if we had been informed that it was customary, or had ever been done; and it therefore surprised us that they complained and charged us with neglect of duty, or found fault with us, or wished to convict us of a matter where there was no law, obligation, custom, or even precedent; that this treatment struck us as very strange, since there were several foreigners who had come over in the ship with us, from whom they had not required what they required of us. "You know well," he said, "it is the custom in Europe." We replied, "it was not so in any of the United Provinces or any other places except upon the frontiers." "Well," he continued, "we are no frontier, but a capital, and it must and shall be so in the future." He then inquired after our names, trade or profession, and place of residence in Fatherland, all of which we told him, namely, that my comrade was a theologian, and had studied at Leyden;[289] that I was a wine-racker, and that we both lived near Leeuwarden, in Friesland. He asked further what we came there to do, or what was our purpose or intention. We told him it was to look at the country. "How, look at the country?" he asked: "some come here to look at the cities, others at the fortifications; some to learn the mode of government and policy, others the manner of regulating the militia; others again to learn the climate, and times, and seasons, and you run and travel through the country without giving us any notice why." We replied, we had come here and travelled through the country in order to make ourselves acquainted generally with the nature and fertility of the soil, as was convenient, or we might perhaps go around mornings and evenings. He inquired further of us how we wished to be regarded in the future, whether as citizens or foreigners. We answered, as foreigners. "Well then," he proceeded, "you are forbidden to carry on trade, particularly with the inhabitants, that is, to sell anything to private persons, but you may dispose of it to merchants who sell to private individuals." He said the privilege, or burgher right cost —— beavers,[290] each beaver reckoned at five guilders in Holland money, or twenty-five guilders in zeewan, and was prohibited to all persons who reside out of the city; and as we resided out of the city, we must be treated like others. We replied to this, we would cheerfully obey the law. We were also told to travel nowhere, particularly to Albany, without special permission from the governor, which we said we would ask from his Excellency, and thereupon we left.

[Footnote 289: The Album Studiosorum Academiae Lugduno-Batavae (Hague, 1875) contains the entry of "Petrus Sluyter Vesaliensis" (i.e., of Wesel) as entering the University of Leyden in 1666 as a student of theology, at the age of twenty-one. Also, Sluyter in 1670 told Paul Hackenberg at Herford that he had studied three years in the Palatinate (without finding one truly pious pastor or teacher). Domine Selyns, in a letter to Rev. Willem a Brakel, says that Sluyter gave himself out as a physician, but unsuccessful in practice, Danckaerts as a wine-racker, as here. Danckaerts is understood from Zeeland sources to have been originally a cooper for the Dutch West India Company at Middelburg.]

[Footnote 290: Six beavers, according to a municipal ordinance of 1676.]

On arriving at our house, we found there Simon of Gouanes,[291] who had brought a boat-load of wood, and with whom my companion went to Long Island, but I remained at home; the Lord exercising me somewhat, I was rather quiet. We had been to the strand several days, watching for Claes, the ferryman, or some other opportunity to cross over to Gamoenepaen, but we found none; and as there was some difficulty between this governor and the governor of New Jersey, we were contented to wait and follow the providence of the Lord therein, although our purpose in going over was not on that account.

[Footnote 291: Simon Aertsen de Hart.]

FEBRUARY 1st [January 31], Wednesday. Gerrit, the son-in-law of our host, having been a long time upon Long Island, came over with a cask of tobacco, which he intended to ship in the ship Beaver; he repacked it, and I helped him cooper it.[292] He said he had another one to bring over from the island, and then he would take Simon's boat and go with us to Ackquakenon. After he had finished packing this one, the boat going to Gouanes after wood, I left along with him on the

3d [2nd], Friday, at nine o'clock in the morning. I heard that my companion had gone from the Bay to Najack, where I proposed to follow him, because we might not be able to obtain these people who, in order to go to Ackqueqenon, resolve upon it half a year beforehand, for when one can go, the other cannot, and we were not able to wait. Simon told us now he could not accompany us. The other person was uncertain, and Gerrit was not any more sure. I arrived at Najack in the evening, and my comrade also arrived there from the bay, in company with Jaques.[293] He concluded to return to the city with me in the morning.

[Footnote 292: The Beaver was the ship by which Gerrit van Duyn's wife had just come out. For the writer as a cooper see p. 168, note.]

[Footnote 293: Jacques Cortelyou.]

4th [3d], Saturday. Our resolution was defeated. We started on the road, but were compelled to return, as it had rained hard the whole night, and continued to do so all day.

5th [4th], Sunday. It snowed all night and until about nine o'clock in the morning, when it cleared up, and we set out on our journey. We reached the ferry at one o'clock, where we waited three hours to be taken over by the lame brother-in-law of Jan the baker, or Jan Theunissen.[294]

[Footnote 294: Probably a mistake for Jacob Theunissen, who was a baker at this time.]

6th [5th], Monday evening. M. de la Grange came to call upon us, being somewhat under concern of mind, and giving us some hope. His wife, being touched also, has been to see us several times; and certainly the Lord will comfort us about His people. I will take some other occasion to speak more particularly in relation to this matter, if the Lord continue it. Meanwhile, I had translated the Verheffinge des Geestes tot God[295] into Dutch, for Elizabeth Rodenburgh, wife of Ephraim Hermans, in order to send her a token of gratitude for the acts of kindness enjoyed at her house, as she had evinced a great inclination for it, and relished it much, when sometimes we read portions of it to her while we were there. I also began a translation of the last exercise of the Heylige Decades.[296] Nothing further occurred worthy of mention, except that the snow, frost, rain and inclement weather prevented us from going to Ackquequenon.[297]