Meanwhile we disposed of all our goods to M. de La Grange, upon the terms before mentioned, and received in pay peltries of every description. But, as we were not experienced in merchandise, and much less in peltries, we deemed it proper to have what we received, examined and valued against the goods sold, by Van Kleif, before named. He valued some of the peltries much less than they had been charged to us. But as there are few merchants who do not hatchel each other a little, so standing near this merchant you could see he was not free from this feeling, and you would believe, if he had owned our goods and been free to receive payment for them, in such kind of pay, he would have valued them much higher. However, there were three beavers among them which were not current; these De la Grange cheerfully took back, as they were not his, but had been borrowed by him of his nephew, in consequence of his not having enough of his own.
He was about to return to the South River, in order to bring on more goods, which he had there. His wife was going with him, to see if she would live there; for she seemed to take the subject to heart of separating herself from the sinful attachments of the world, giving up trade, and going to live upon the land and out of the land. His nephew was also going with them, for a pleasure trip, and to see the country, and especially to learn the way of trading. They were to leave this evening, having already dispatched the boat on Monday last.
16th, Tuesday. Before we proceed any further, I must here insert a very remarkable circumstance, for the comfort and joy of God's children, who rejoice with the holy and blessed angels over the repentance of one poor great sinner, more than over ninety and nine just men, who need no repentance. The old man and his wife with whom we lodged had several children, the husband and wife each three by former marriages, and one between themselves. The husband's children by his former wife were two daughters and one son. One of the daughters was married to Gerrit, the wheelwright, who had married her in New Netherland, but upon the first change in the government[321] she left for Holland, and he followed her there after a little time, and kept house at Swol [Zwolle]; but not being able, after several years, to succeed very well in the Netherlands, he came back in the same ship with us, leaving his wife and children behind at Zwolle. Finding matters go on here to his wishes, he sent for his family by Captain Jacob, of the ship Beaver. This is Gerrit the wheelwright, or carpenter, whom we have mentioned several times in our journal.[322] Another daughter lived still at Amsterdam, for whom he has given us several messages and a letter to take when we leave. His son is a carpenter in the East Indies. The children of the old woman were a daughter named Geesie, married here in New York to one Peter Denis, weighmaster; another daughter, named Rebecca, was also married here with one Arie, who gained his livelihood by cultivating land and raising cattle, but kept a tavern, or drinking house, having a situation therefor, and living upon a delightful spot at the Vers Water (Fresh Water), a little out of town; and a son, named Theunis, who was married and had six children, and who supported himself by farming at Sapokanike. The old couple had one child between them, named Willem, now about twenty-three years old, a carpenter by trade, a little rough and coarse, but otherwise not an unjust kind of a person, according to the world. He lived at home with his parents, where we lodged.[323] He was somewhat wronged in his inheritance, as the old people acknowledged, and we reproved them for it. They promised amendment.
Now the before named Theunis had led a very godless life, and had been wild and reckless, extraordinarily covetous, addicted to cursing and swearing, and despising all religious things; but he was not a drunkard, nor was he unchaste, though he previously had taken something that did not belong to him. In a word, he was ignorant of the truth and a godless man, yet his evil and wickedness were more in the spirit than in the flesh. Nevertheless, it appears that God had purposes of grace in regard to him, and the time was approaching when God would touch him and draw him to Him. He had long since felt his conscience gnawing him for his godless life, and that with a strength which very much increased his chagrin. He became meagre in body, his eyes were sunken in his head, he was sombre of speech, he sought solitude in order to fly from the evil, but found it was augmented manifold; and gradually began to long for deliverance and a better life. The devil had been assailing him for six years past, and he was therefore in a miserable state, of both soul and body. Thus he was when, by God's providence, we arrived in the country, and went to lodge at his mother's house, as we have related. We had been at the house only two or three days, when he also came there. I was writing in the front room, and my comrade was with me. He heard us talking together about God, and the Christian life in general, which so affected him that he said to himself, "O God! what men are these? Where did they come from? Are there such people still in the world?" This he told us afterwards. However, it took such hold of his heart, that he more earnestly resolved to reform his life, while the devil, being more displeased, assailed him the more violently. His wife was a very ill-natured woman, scolding, growling, cursing and swearing at him, as well as at their children, and constantly finding fault with him, through her avarice, because he did not do more work, although he wrought continually, and as much as three other men. Their children, collectively, were very bad and saucy, and cursed and swore at each other, except the oldest, a daughter, who appeared to be the best of them. This man being in such a state was pressed on all sides. He sometimes, but not often, came to our house, and as we knew nothing of his condition, we only addressed to him occasionally a general remark. However, his time and that of the Lord were approaching. He heard a sermon upon the requisites of communicants of the Lord's supper, which he had never as yet enjoyed; and was thrown very much aback, abhorring himself and many others, who went to it, yet pursued as wicked lives as he did. For himself, he saw no probability of his ever being able to partake of it, conscious as he was of his being wicked and unworthy. He saw no means of release, and found no help or consolation wherever he went or came. To go to his minister would, he thought, render him little good, as he knew by several examples. He kept his condition concealed from us, and did not dare speak to us, so that he was in distress for himself, his family, and his entire state, and often wishing to die. This caused him to live in continual variance and quarrelling with his neighbors. He lost several cows and other cattle, by which he suffered great damage. A little daughter, about fourteen years old, who lived with her grandmother, was so badly ruptured, that there was no probability of her being cured, or ever being fit to be married. He had bought a piece of land, in common with Arie, his brother-in-law, to make tillable land out of the rough woods. It was to him like dead fruit. He worked on it three times as much as the other did, in felling and chopping trees, and making the best of it into timber, which was carried to the city with little or no profit to him, but to the people to whom Arie was indebted. Differences arose between them as to the land and labor, and it was therefore proposed to divide it, and separate; but, as has been before mentioned, they had begun to clear off a part of it, and they could not agree which should have the cleared land, where he had bestowed so much labor. Great bitterness sprang out of it, when the mother and friends interposed, and settled the difficulty as well as they could. Theunis obtained the cleared land on condition he should make some indemnity to the other; and a part of the land, where he had worked like a mole, and bought and paid for, should be given up by him. He had a very large and beautiful canoe, which was worth much to him, and had been very serviceable to him; this was entirely dashed to pieces by a northwest storm, as Sapocanikke, where he resided and the canoe lay, makes with this wind a flat lee shore. Although his neighbors could have prevented the breaking of the canoe, if they had done as they ought to have done, they had not at least attempted to prevent it. He had a fine large negro, a slave, whom he had long possessed, and taught to work and speak good Dutch; who had done him great service, and he had much love for him. The negro was riding on horseback, when the horse ran away with him, and he fell and was injured internally in the breast. He became sick, supposing it was a cold, and died in a few days. This event caused great sorrow to him, his wife, and his whole family, as also to all his friends; for it was a severe blow and damage to him. He was once working in the field, and his wife was called to help one of the cows which was sick and in a bad condition. This happened eight or ten times at night as well as in the day, whereby he and his wife had no rest night or day. He was on one occasion attending her, when word came to them that one of their little daughters had fallen dead in the barn, and indeed they knew no better, for she lay in a swoon as if dead; at which they were all much frightened and out of their senses. Thus he had one blow after another. The child, who was about nine or ten years old, came to, when they thought her arm was broken, or at least her shoulder out of joint, for she had fallen from a great height. She was brought in that condition to her grandmother's, at our lodgings, to be cured, which was effected after some time. He has also had several mishaps in the woods in chopping and felling trees; and had about this time an accident which broke him down. Having felled a tree, it remained hanging with its branches in the limbs of another one, and in endeavoring to pull it out his whole hand was crushed so that all his fingers festered. This happened shortly after the others. All these misfortunes depressed this poor man very much, and daily increased his anguish. He could not sleep, and found rest nowhere. He did nothing but sigh and complain of inward trouble. When we heard all these things, we said several times to each other, the Lord has certainly some intention in regard to this man and this household: the Lord visits this man; although we did not doubt there was something of the evil one.
About this time he came to our house, and we embraced the opportunity to speak to him, which we did with great earnestness and affection, by which he was strengthened, and went home contented. But it did not continue long. He became very much disturbed and troubled. He went in the fields to plough, and the horses began to neigh and bellow, and would not stand still an instant, springing and jumping, entangling themselves together, foaming and fuming so that he did not know what course to pursue. As to himself, he became so frightened and perplexed, so confused that he did not knew what he did or where he was; he was bewildered, and his whole understanding lost; he was like one blind; he wanted to go to the house, and ran hither and thither, through water and everywhere, his hat off his head, and across the fields, and thus reached home. His wife and children were frightened because he looked so horrible and disfigured. He demanded a rope and wanted to harm himself, for he said he could live no longer. The wife and children cried; neighbors were sent for; one of the children brought the grandmother and Rebecca, his sister, from the city. This was on Tuesday, the 16th of April, in the afternoon. My comrade was in the front room when the news came, though there were no particulars. He came to me in the back room sorrowful, and said to me, "Vous ne savez que le malin a eu possession sur nostre pauvre homme."[324] "What man?" I asked. "Our Theunis," he replied, "word came that he had hanged himself, and afterwards that they did not know whether he was alive." We were alarmed; the old woman, his mother, had gone to him; and after waiting a little time, we also determined to go, and as we were a little quicker on foot we reached Sapocanike almost as soon as she did. As we approached the house we heard the lamentations of the women and children; and on entering we found there no one except the mother, the sister Rebecca, and a female neighbor who was a faus pieuse.[325] As soon as we came in, he stood up and came to meet us, holding out his hand, and calling out: "Friends, is there still grace with God, is there still grace for me with God?" We grasped his hand and said: "Yes, there is grace for you with God, and for all repentant sinners." He exclaimed, "What wickedness have I committed! how have I sinned! how have I stolen God's honor, His name profaned with vile oaths, his sabbaths violated, his word despised! how godless have I lived, and run from Him! But He has overtaken me. How has the devil troubled and tempted me, how has he for six years assailed me, seeing that I no longer wished to serve him! And now when God comes to touch me and draw me, he seeks to devour me; but he shall not have me. God who protects me is stronger than he," and much more of similar import. We then spoke to him according to his state and condition, which did him much good. This pieuse prated also after her manner, but we tempered her down a little. She had urged him very strongly to go and sit down and read I know not what kind of a book; for, she said, she had also been in such a state, and that reading had done her much good. She was much astonished at our saying he should not read, which could be done afterwards, and would benefit him when he should be well and quiet, and felt a desire and longing for it; that he should now, if he could, go to work at what had to be done or he had an inclination to do, whether in the barn among the grain or in the stalls among the cattle, or any other necessary work. We exhorted him to put his trust in God, to pray to Him and cleave to Him; the devil would then have no more power over him, as this perhaps was his last attack. He said, "I fear him no more, God will protect me; I feel more tranquil, I will not yield." We told him what he must do in future. He answered, "I hope and trust it will go well." He thanked us very much and added, "Friends, you are the cause that I still live and of my preservation." We told him it was God to whom he must give the honor and thank for His grace and mercy; and that we would perhaps call the next day, if we did not leave, at which he was glad. We wanted to give a strong admonition to his wife and children, for they had great need of it, and in order that a greater impression might be made upon them by this circumstance. Returning home, we were affected by the grace of God towards a poor sinner, who truly told us things from the bottom of his heart which were from God and His Spirit, according to His word and our experience. In leaving we told his wife how she must keep her eye on him, and conduct herself towards him.
17th, Wednesday. We went to inquire whether the boat was going up the river to-day, but it could not be got ready. In the afternoon we went to visit Theunis again, whom we found at home quiet and calm. He received us kindly, and we asked him how he was. "Very well," he said, "I am as much relieved as if I had a great burden taken from my shoulders." He had rested well during the night. We praised God, and exhorted him to perseverance, and to trust in Him. "Trust in Him," he said. "I know as well that I am a child of God as that I stand here, and I have no fear of the devil any more. I know he can trouble me, but he shall no longer have power over me." We told him he must take care of his affairs, and work when he felt inclined. "Work," he said, "I have no more work. It is as if it were Sunday. I know that the cattle must be taken care of and other things must be done, but that concerns me not. I have no work, and will not work again as I have done before. God will take care of me." We admonished him that he himself and his whole family ought to go learn and be reformed. "That I will do," he replied, "if it please God, and if she will only listen and learn; but if she will not I cannot help it." We read to him some portions of scripture, as Matt. v. 6, John xvi. 17, Matt. vii. 8, of the carefulness of the world, by which he found himself comforted, and promised he would avoid the world as much as he could, and wished he could fulfill his inclination and go and live alone in the woods, away from wicked men, for it was impossible to live near them and not sin as they do. "Could I only go up the river," said he, "with you and everywhere you go! Oh, that I were a young man; I would not leave you." You could see that he spoke with earnestness and from the uprightness of his soul.
19th, Friday. We had been several times for our passport, which we supposed would be a special one granted by his Excellency to us, but in that we were mistaken. Our names were merely added to the common passport to go up and down the river, as the names of all the passengers were written on it. We left New York about three o'clock in the afternoon with a southerly wind, in company with about twenty passengers of all kinds, young and old, who made great noise and bustle in a boat not so large as a common ferry-boat in Holland; and as these people live in the interior of the country somewhat nearer the Indians, they are more wild and untamed, reckless, unrestrained, haughty, and more addicted to misusing the blessed name of God and to cursing and swearing. However there was no help for it; you have to go with those with whom you are shipped. We were scarcely in the North River when we saw a ship coming through the Narrows, but as it was so far off we could not discern what vessel it was. Each passenger had his own opinion on the subject. After we had sailed along for half an hour we heard five or six guns fired from the fort and otherwise, which was a proof that she was from sea. As we were sailing along a boat came up to us but lost her mast in boarding us. She was to the leeward and we were sailing before the wind with a good headway. She came too near our yard-arm, which carried away her mast, and it was lucky she was not upset. They put on board some tons of oysters, which are not to be found at Fort Albany or away from salt water. In passing Sapocanike we saw Theunis standing upon an eminence where he was busy ploughing, and observing us as long as he could. We made rapid progress, but with the night the wind slackened, and we were compelled to come to anchor in order to stem the tide.
20th, Saturday. When the day broke we saw how far we had advanced. We were at the entrance of the Highlands, which are high and rocky, and lie on both sides of the river. While waiting there for the tide and wind another boat came alongside of us. They had a very fine fish, a striped bass, as large as a codfish. The skipper was a son-in-law of D. Schaets, the minister at Albany, a drunken, worthless person who could not keep house with his wife, who was not much better than he, nor was his father-in-law. He had been away from his wife five or six years, and was now going after her.[326] The wind coming out of the south about nine o'clock we weighed anchor, and got under sail. It gradually increased until we had drifted through the Highlands, which is regarded as no small advantage whenever they wish to sail up or down the river; because, if they do not have a fresh breeze aft, they cannot have much favorable wind, as in blowing crosswise over the Highlands it blows above the vessel, and sometimes comes down in whirlwinds which are dangerous. In the evening we sailed before the Hysopus, where some of the passengers desired to be put ashore, but it blew too hard and we had too much headway. It did not seem to be very important. In consequence of the river above the Hysopus being difficult to navigate, and beset with shoals and passages, and of the weather being rainy with no moon, we could not proceed without continual danger of running aground, and so came to anchor.
21st, Easter Sunday. The wind was against us and calm, but we advanced as far as the Noorman's Kill,[327] where we were compelled to come to anchor, on account of the strong current running down the river. We went ashore here to walk about a little. There are two high falls on this kill, where the beautiful green water comes falling over incessantly, in a manner wonderful to behold, when you consider the power, wisdom, and directions of God. The water was the greenest I had observed, not only on the South River, but in all New Netherland. Leaving the cause of it for further inquiry, I mention it merely in passing. At the falls on this river stands a fine saw-mill which has wood enough to saw. The man who lives there, although not the mildest, treated us nevertheless reasonably well. He set before us shad which had been caught the day before, and was very good, better, we thought, than the same fish in Fatherland. I observed along the shore, trees which they call in Holland the tree of life, such as we have in our garden,[328] but they grow here beautiful and large, like firs. I picked up a small stone in which there was some crystal, and you could see how the crystal was formed in the stone.
A breeze springing up from the south caused us to hurry on board the yacht, which we saw was making sail. We reached her after a good time of hard rowing, and were quite tired before we did so. The breeze did not continue a long time, and we came to anchor again. After several stoppages we proceeded to-day as far as Kinderhook.