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.

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.

PART OF THE MAP OF NEW YORK AND NEW ENGLAND
IN MONTANUS'S "NIEUWE WEERELD," 1671

From a copy in the New York Public Library

[Enlarge]

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.