Journey to the Southward Begins.[186]
14th, Tuesday. Having taken leave of all our acquaintances, we set off at ten o'clock, this morning, in company with Ephraim, his wife, his wife's mother, two of her sisters, and a young brother, who were to accompany her as far as Pescatteway.[187] We stepped into the boat, where we found three horses, two Quakers, and another Englishman. We were not long in starting. The wind was from the west, which is a head wind for sailing to Achter Kol. The sky began to be heavily overcast, and the wind to freshen up more, so that we had to tack. Ephraim being afraid the wind might shift to the northwest, and blow hard, as it usually does when it is from that quarter, wished to return, and would have done so, if the skipper had not tried to go ahead more than he did. The tide running out, and the boat advancing but little, and being fearful of the flood tide, which would delay us, if it did not drive us back, and as there was room to work with the rudder, I went and took hold of the tiller myself, and brought the boat, with the flood tide, just within the point of Staten Island, where we found a ketch bound for Achter Kol, and further up to Snake Hill. Having now the tide with us, we tacked about, and quickly passed by Schutters Island, lying in the mouth of a kill, on the north side of the Kil achter Kol. This island is so called, because the Dutch, when they first settled on the North River, were in the practice of coming here to shoot wild geese, and other wild fowl, which resorted there in great numbers. This kill, when the water is high, is like a large river, but at low water it is dry in some places. Up above it divides itself into two branches, one of which runs about north to Snake Hill and Ackingsak; and the other, called the Northwest Kill, because it extends in that direction, runs to Aquakenom, of which we will speak hereafter.[188] We sailed inside of Schutters Island, although the passage is very small, and thus obtained the in-running current; because the flood tide which came from Achter Kol, and that from the North River, strike each other here, and thus shoot together in this kill. With much effort we reached the point of Elizabeth's Kill, where we were compelled to come to anchor, at four o'clock. We all went ashore, and lodged for the night in the house of the French people, of whom we have spoken before, and who were not yet rid of the suspicion they had conceived, notwithstanding the declarations we had made to the contrary. We all slept on the floor, and supped upon what we had brought with us. We were no sooner in the house, than it began to rain and blow hard from the northwest, and to be very cold. We saw herein the good providence of the Lord again, whom we had so many times, during our journeying, so visibly perceived, watching and protecting so faithfully those who cared for nothing, except for Him and to do His will.
15th, Wednesday. It still blew stiff out of the northwest, so that our skipper had little disposition to weigh anchor and get under sail, especially with the horses on board, although we would have willingly proceeded. It was, therefore, determined that the horses should go by land with the servant and brother of Ephraim, and the Quakers resolved to do the same. The rest of the company went on board the boat, and after taking in a large reef, we got under sail, with a head wind, but ebb tide. It blew hard and squally, and we had to look out well, with sheets in hand. We made good progress, and came to Smokers Hoeck, which is about half way of Kil achter Kol. We came to anchor here, because the next reach was directly against the wind, and it blew too hard to tack. We all stepped ashore here, and went on foot to an English village called Wout Brigg,[189] where we should find the horses. Smoker's Hoeck is the easterly point of the kill, which runs up to Wout Brigg, and we would have sailed up this creek, but it was ebb tide. We passed over reasonably fair and good land, and observed particularly fine salt meadows on the creek, on which there was built a good grist mill,[190] and over which we had to cross. We arrived about noon or one o'clock, at this English village. Ephraim, not wishing to go with his family to the ordinary tavern, went to another house or tavern, where he had been many times before, and where the people were under some obligations to him. But he could not lodge there now; and we were, therefore, compelled to go to the common tavern, which was full of persons, sitting drinking, and where nothing was to be obtained except that vile rum. Nevertheless, we had to pass the day there, waiting for the boat and the baggage; but these did not come up to-day, in consequence of the hard wind. We had, therefore, to lie down here upon the ground all together, on a little hay, as we had done last night.
16th, Thursday. The weather moderated and it cleared up, but we had to wait till about noon, before the goods arrived from the boat, which the skipper had to bring up in a canoe, because the boat could not come. We obtained here another horse, making five horses we had, and another servant of Ephraim. We then dined, and politely took our leave of Madam van B.[191], the mother of Ephraim's wife, and of her two sisters, who had come to conduct her as far as here, and from here were to return home again in the same boat, but the little brother went with us to the south, to live with Ephraim. It was then about three o'clock, when we mounted the horses, namely, Ephraim and his wife upon the best one, my comrade and myself each upon the one we had obtained at Woodbridge, his brother and servant on one, and the other servant upon another. Our horses, like the riders, were very poor. We proceeded on, however, and about four o'clock arrived at Pescatteway, the last English village in New Jersey, for thus the government of the Governor my Lord Catrix [Carteret] is called; which begins on the west side of the North River, and extends about half way to the South River, though this division did not seem to me to be well made. We rode about two English miles through Pescatteway, to the house of one Mr. Greenland,[192] who kept a tavern there. We had to pass the night here, because it was the place of crossing the Milstoons [Millstone] River, which they called the falls. Close by there, also, was the dwelling of some Indians, who were of service to this Mr. Greenland, in many things. We were better lodged and entertained here, for we slept upon a good bed, and strengthened ourselves against the future.
17th, Friday. As the water was high in the kill or Millstone River, Ephraim would not ride over the fall, on account of the current of water, which made it dangerous. He, therefore, determined after breakfast we should be set across in a canoe, and the horses should swim across, as they did. We reached the other side about nine o'clock, and proceeded on horseback. The road from here to the falls of the South River, runs for the most part W.S.W., and then W. It is nothing but a foot-path for men and horses, between the trees and through the small shrubs, although we came to places where there were large plains, beset with a few trees, and grown over with long grass, which was not the worst. When you have ridden a piece of the way, you can see over the lands of the Nevesink, far off on the left hand, into the ocean, affording a fine view. The land we rode over was neither the best, nor the worst. The woods consist of reasonably straight oak and hickory, with some chestnut, but they are not very close. They would, therefore, afford tolerably good tillable land; but we observed the best pieces lay here and there, along the creeks. We saw many deer running before us, out of the road, sometimes five or six together, starting off at the sound of the horses. When about half way, you come to a high, but very rocky hill, which is very difficult for man or beast to walk upon. After crossing it, you come to a large valley, the descent to which, from this hill, is very steep, by a very shrubby road; and you must dismount, in order to lead your horses down carefully, as well as to descend carefully yourselves. We were in the middle of this valley, when a company met us on horseback, from the South River. They were acquaintances of Ephraim, and some of them were his relations. They wished each other welcome, and mutually inquired after various matters, after which we separated, exchanging one of our horses, which Ephraim's brother rode, and was to be sent back to the Manathans, for one of theirs, which must return to the South River. We rode on a little further, and came to Millstone River again, which runs so crookedly, that you cross it at three different places. After we crossed it now, we took the bridles from the horses, in order that they might eat something, while we sat down and dined together, upon what we had in our travelling bags. We remounted in about an hour, and rode on, continuing our way and course as before. About three o'clock we came again to Millstone River, which we again waded over, but it had gradually become smaller. Resuming our route, we arrived at the falls of the South River about sundown, passing a creek where a new grist-mill was erected by the Quakers, who live hereabouts in great numbers, and daily increase.[193] But it seemed to us as if this mill could not stand long, especially if the flow of water were heavy, because the work was not well arranged. We rode over here, and went directly to the house of the person who had constructed it, who was a Quaker, where we dismounted, and willingly dismissed our horses. The house was very small, and from the incivility of the inmates and the unfitness of the place, we expected poor lodgings. As it was still daylight, and we had heard so much of the falls of the South River, or, at least, we ourselves had imagined it, we went back to the river, in order to look at them; but we discovered we had deceived ourselves in our ideas. We had supposed it was a place, where the water came tumbling down in great quantity and force from a great height above, over a rock into an abyss, as the word falls would seem to imply, and as we had heard and read of the falls of the North River, and other rivers. But these falls of the South River are nothing more than a place of about two English miles in length, or not so much, where the river is full of stones, almost across it, which are not very large, but in consequence of the shallowness, the water runs rapidly and breaks against them, causing some noise, but not very much, which place, if it were necessary, could be made navigable on one side. As no Europeans live above the falls, they may so remain. This miller's house is the highest up the river, hitherto inhabited. Here we had to lodge; and although we were too tired to eat, we had to remain sitting upright the whole night, not being able to find room enough to lie upon the ground. We had a fire, however, but the dwellings are so wretchedly constructed, that if you are not so close to the fire as almost to burn yourself, you cannot keep warm, for the wind blows through them everywhere. Most of the English, and many others, have their houses made of nothing but clapboards, as they call them there, in this manner: they first make a wooden frame, the same as they do in Westphalia, and at Altena,[194] but not so strong; they then split the boards of clapwood, so that they are like cooper's pipe staves, except they are not bent. These are made very thin, with a large knife, so that the thickest end is about as thick as a little finger, and the other is made sharp, like the edge of a knife. They are about five or six feet long, and are nailed on the outside of the frame, with the ends lapped over each other. They are not usually laid so close together, as to prevent you from sticking a finger between them, in consequence either of their not being well joined, or the boards being crooked. When it is cold and windy the best people plaster them with clay. Such are almost all the English houses in the country, except those they have which were built by people of other nations. Now this house was new and airy; and as the night was very windy from the north, and extremely cold with clear moonshine, I shall not readily forget it. Ephraim and his wife obtained a bed; but we passed through the night without sleeping much.
18th, Saturday. About ten o'clock, after we had breakfasted, we stepped into a boat, in order to proceed on our journey down the river. The ebb tide was half run out. Although there is not much flood tide here, as it is stopped by the falls, yet, the water rises and falls with the ebb or flood, or through the ebb or flood, because the water, although it runs down, increases through the flood, in consequence of its being forced up, and is diminished with the ebb, because the ebb gives it so much the more course to run down. We went along, then, moving with the tide; but as Ephraim was suffering with the quartan ague, and it was now its time to come on, we had to go and lie by the banks of the river, in order to make a fire, as he could not endure the cold in the boat. This continued for about an hour and a half. The water was then rising, and we had to row against the current to Borlinghton [Burlington], leaving the island of Matinakonk[195] lying on the right hand. This island, formerly, belonged to the Dutch governor, who had made it a pleasure ground or garden, built good houses upon it, and sowed and planted it. He also dyked and cultivated a large piece of meadow or marsh, from which he gathered more grain than from any land which had been made from woodland into tillable land. The English governor at the Manathans now held it for himself, and had hired it out to some Quakers, who were living upon it at present. It is the best and largest island in the South River; and is about four English miles in length, and two in breadth. It lies nearest to the east side of the river. At the end of this island lies the Quakers' village, Borlington, which east side of the river the Quakers have entirely in their possession, but how they came into its possession, we will show in another place.[196] Before arriving at this village, we stopped at the house of one Jacob Hendrix, from Holstein, living on this side. He was an acquaintance of Ephraim, who would have gone there to lodge, but he was not at home. We, therefore, rowed on to the village, in search of lodgings, for it had been dark all of an hour or more; but proceeding a little further, we met this Jacob Hendrix, in a canoe with hay. As we were now at the village, we went up to the tavern, but there were no lodgings to be obtained there, whereupon we reembarked in the boat, and rowed back to Jacob Hendrix's, who received us very kindly, and entertained us according to his ability. The house, although not much larger than where we were the last night, was somewhat better and tighter, being made according to the Swedish mode, and as they usually build their houses here, which are block-houses, being nothing else than entire trees, split through the middle, or squared out of the rough, and placed in the form of a square, upon each other, as high as they wish to have the house; the ends of these timbers are let into each other, about a foot from the ends, half of one into half of the other. The whole structure is thus made, without a nail or a spike. The ceiling and roof do not exhibit much finer work, except among the most careful people, who have the ceiling planked and a glass window. The doors are wide enough, but very low, so that you have to stoop in entering. These houses are quite tight and warm; but the chimney is placed in a corner. My comrade and myself had some deer skins, spread upon the floor to lie on, and we were, therefore, quite well off, and could get some rest. It rained hard during the night, and snowed and froze, and continued so until the
19th, Sunday, and for a considerable part of the day, affording little prospect of our leaving. At noon the weather improved, and Ephraim having something to do at Borlinton, we accompanied him there in the boat. We went into the meeting of the Quakers, who went to work very unceremoniously and loosely. What they uttered was mostly in one tone, and the same thing, and so it continued, until we were tired out, and went away. We tasted here, for the first time, peach brandy, or spirits, which was very good, but would have been better if it had been more carefully made. Ephraim remained there for the evening, and we returned back to our former lodgings, where we slept on a good bed, the same that Ephraim and his wife had the night before. This gave us great comfort, and recruited us greatly.
THE NORTHEAST PORTION OF AUGUSTINE HERRMAN'S MAP OF MARYLAND, 1673