■•V-' ^^ 
 
 N<:,- 
 
Glass. 
 Book_ 
 
 

 ^/'T-i-^ ^c-^, 
 
 
 A Jersey Wormian of the EigFileenth CentarY- 
 
 BY JOHN BODINE THOMPSON, D. D. 
 
 [Read before the New Brunswick Historical Club March i6, 1893.] 
 
 Miihvny between New Hrunswick iiiul 
 Melutlien the IravcUer crosses a slrcnm, 
 too small at thai place to attract attention, 
 yet worthy of notice. Its name is ' 'Ambrose's 
 Brook." Rising near Pisciitaway-town, it 
 flows, slowly but steadily, northwesterly 
 Ihroiifjh grassy meadows nnlil it empties 
 into ilie ISound Brook at the village of that 
 name. 
 
 Bound Brook if .w called because two 
 centuries ago it bounded the Elizabeth- 
 town patent on that side Ambrose's Brook 
 is so railed from an early settler on the 
 ferlile lands through which it meanders so 
 quietly to its goal, whose name, I suppose, 
 was Ambrose JIartin. The most remarka- 
 ble thing about this self-contained and self- 
 sufficient brook is that it presumes to par- 
 allel itself with the Karitan river, and even 
 to run contrary to it. Of course, it meets 
 the common late of those in whom ambi- 
 tion outruns ability, by being swallowed 
 up at last in the swelling tide of its greater 
 rival. 
 
 On the banks of Ambrose's Brook was 
 born more than a hundred and li fly years 
 ago a child, the story of whose life I am 
 now to tell. The family had been a nota- 
 ble one in France. One of its members had 
 written what Sir William Hamilton calls 
 "The ablest and most Remarkable Treatise 
 on the Philosophy of Government and 
 L ■gislati'in," during the two thousand 
 years that had elapsed between Aristotle 
 and Montesquieu. lie was the Counsellor 
 of the King of Fiance, and was consulted 
 also by Klizabeth, of England, whom he 
 advised to enlarge her kingdom by adopt- 
 ing the King of Scotland, and marrying 
 Leno.x. This advice, apparently, did not 
 
 please her; for she did not follow it, but 
 treated it as mere badinage, and. punning 
 on his name, called its author "Mr. Badin," 
 instead of "Bodin." A hundred years 
 after that, another member of the family, 
 bearing also the namc^ of Jean Bodin, went 
 from France to London where he an<i his 
 wife were naturalized, Octob;r 14, 1681. 
 Soon after they came to the American 
 colonies and settled among their kindred 
 Huguenots on Stalen Island, where he died 
 as early as 1095. I am not sure whether it 
 was bis son or his grandson, who crossed 
 over to the mainland at Perth Amboy, and 
 made his way to the banks ot Ambrose's 
 Brook, where he bought of the proprietors 
 of East Jersey si.xly acres of land, July 23, 
 173'3. Abraham Bodin, Bodieu or Bodine, 
 as the name began now to be variously 
 spelled and pronounced, married a Dutch 
 girl, named Adrianlje Janse, and had nine 
 children. The fifth of these was "Judik," 
 to whom I have already alluded, born on 
 the banks of Ambrose's Brook, March 17, 
 1735. This generation had lost the lan- 
 guage of their fathers, and had become 
 i<ienlified with the Dutch among whom 
 they dwelt. Judik Bodine probably never 
 thought of herself other than as a Dulch 
 girl, though, of course, she learned to 
 speak English as well as Dulch. Undoubt- 
 edly she enjoyed her child-life on tlie banks 
 of the loitcrins brook, wa<ling in the pools, 
 digging sweet -flag in the low-lying meadows, 
 following her brothers and sisters at their 
 play and aathering the fleur-de-lis that 
 grew so plentifully there, all unconscious 
 that it was the national flower of her an- 
 cestors. When she was thirteen ycQis of 
 age her older sister married, and Judik 
 
6S732 
 
 was compdletl to take lier share of house- 
 hold duly. The drive with the slow farm- 
 horses to the church three miles beyond 
 Bound Brook was long and tedious; but 
 that was no reason for staying away, nor 
 for neglecting the study of the catechism 
 that she might recile it at proper inteivals 
 to Dominie Prelinghuysen, by whom she 
 had been baptized. At eighteen she stood 
 before the church as one of the "Getuy- 
 gen,"or sponsors, at the biiplism of her 
 brother Peter's daughter, Elizabeth. And 
 thus she continued discharging her various 
 duties in the church and the family until 
 she had reached the mature age of thirty- 
 five. 
 
 The Dutch in this country had now been 
 under English rule for more than a century ; 
 but they clung to the customs and usages 
 of their fathers with characteristic tenacity. 
 Especially was this true of the dwellers on 
 the Rarinn who did not at all like tiie 
 innovations of tlie English constantly 
 crowding in upon them from New York ; 
 and therefore they pusheit on fnrlher west. 
 Abraham Bodine sold his farm on Am- 
 brose's Brook and bouaht a larger one on 
 the North Branch of the Raritan, and 
 removed thither with his family. 
 
 But others also could follow the "Road 
 up Karitan" to the fertile tields along its 
 branches; and among these "Interlopers," 
 as they were called, was a Scotchman wlio 
 took a fancy to Judik, and evinred a perti- 
 nacity of purpose almo5l or quite equal to 
 that of a J)ulchman. That he was not a 
 Dutchman was rather his misfortune than 
 his fault ; and he was an industrious and 
 pious man, and forty years of age, five 
 years older than Judik. To make a long 
 story short, he succeeded in winning the 
 heart and baud of the Dutch woman, ar.d 
 for a few brief years they lived an idyllic 
 life. His affection for her may he infei red 
 from the fact that he was unwilling to nse 
 alike her Dutch name of ".Judik," the cur- 
 rent abridgement of It to "Jude," and the 
 English form of "Judith." He called her 
 "Juda." So he wrote her name in the 
 little Bible he had brought with him frojn 
 Scotland, so she continued to write it after 
 his decease; and so it continues among her 
 descendants to tliis day. 
 
 By this time not only the lands on the 
 
 Rarilan, but also those on its north and 
 south branches were occupied. Midwa}', 
 however, between these two branches was 
 a stream about as large as Ambrose's 
 Brook, uiwn which the young Hollanders 
 had settled so numerously as to crowd out 
 the earlier English purchasers and to give 
 it the name of "HoUants Brook." which 
 name it still bears. At the very fountain- 
 head of this stream, where its waters issue 
 from the h gliisl peak of the Kushetunk 
 Mountains, (visible from Ambrose's Brook 
 as from New Brunswick,) this married 
 couple found a home; and there their only 
 child was born, July 3, 1772. 
 
 But the soil was not so fertde as that of 
 the lowlands; nor was the tillaae so easy; 
 and the new settlers listened eagerly to the 
 wonderful stories told of "The Shemokem 
 Country." The phrase designated the 
 region for more than a hundred miles 
 around the ancient Indian town of Slicmo- 
 kcm at the juuclion of the north and west 
 branches of the Susquehanna. Considera- 
 ble numbers of Scutch and Irish Presbyte- 
 rians wee already in that vicinity; and 
 their fellow-conntrymen in the Dutch set- 
 tlements, vvould not be loth to join them 
 tliere. Many of the Dutch also, as I have 
 already iotinialed, were quite ready to get 
 further away from the encroachments of 
 the English. Juda Bodine's cousin, Agnes, 
 had already married a Scotchman, and 
 gone with him to the new country. Glow- 
 ing reports of its fertility came back to 
 New .Jersey; and so, a little before the 
 breaking out of the Revolutionary War, 
 Juda Bodiiie and her husband, with others 
 from the Raritan and its branches, decided 
 to try their fortunes, also, in the wtsicru 
 wilds. 
 
 They located on the west branch of the 
 Susquehanna, called by the Indians "Otzi- 
 naclison," just beyond llie creek flowing 
 into it from the north, knowu then, as now, 
 by the name of " Loyal Sock," not far from 
 the site of the present city of Williains- 
 porl. The place selected for their resi- 
 dence was on the edge of the upland, 
 whence they could overlook the broad ex- 
 panse of green stretching away to the river, 
 not unlike the meadows near the mouth of 
 Ambrose's Brook. 
 
 It was an excellent situation. The river 
 
and tlic creek fiirnisliod sliad an(] salmon, 
 as well as tisli of inferior fame. The for- 
 est abounded with deer and bear and vari- 
 ous kinds of smaller game. But the prin- 
 cipal reason for selecting this precise spot 
 was, doubtless, the few acres of clearing 
 upon which the red men of the forest had 
 raised their srantj' supplies of Indian corn. 
 The thrifty husbandman at once set about 
 enlarging the clearing by felling the huge 
 pines for lumber to build his house and 
 barn. After these were finished the stumps 
 were grubbed up and dragged to the edge 
 of the forest, where they formed a fence 
 for the cleared land. The ground was 
 ploughed and sown, and richly rewarded 
 the labor bestowed upon it. The farmer's 
 cattle and horses grazed upon the meadow ; 
 bis barn was full; and the next j-ear's har- 
 vest was rapidly growing into riiwness. 
 Joyously, because successfully, he labored 
 m the fields; Uis wife sang cheerily about 
 her household work; and the little boy 
 shared the out-door life of the father and 
 the in-door life of the mother at will. 
 
 Ill later years he used to tell bow, play- 
 ing beliind the barn, he found a curiously 
 constructed and fragrant flower of which 
 neither father, nor mother, nor neighbors 
 had ever seen the like. Not until several 
 years after his return to New Jersey did 
 he become acquainted with its name or its 
 nature, for it was first introduced upon the 
 Uarilan in the year 1800 under its now fa- 
 miliar name of " red clover." 
 
 What could be more delightful than this 
 scene of pastoral felicity on the west branch 
 of the Susquehanna. If human life is but 
 a fraction at best, amid such surroundings 
 that fraction was constantly increased, not 
 so much by multiplying the numerator as by 
 dividing the denominator. The wants of 
 I he settlers in that happy valley were few, 
 and easily supplied. It was certainly true 
 fo them, what a favorite song of the day 
 represented the British as saying of all the 
 colonists: 
 
 " They have no debts to pay ; 
 Thoy flourisli like the lilies 
 In North America." 
 
 '■ Rt in Arcadia ego" — I, too, was a dweller 
 ill Areadia, might be written of every one 
 of them. 
 
 But well docs the proverb say: "Count 
 
 no man happy 'till ho dies." Most of the 
 able-bodied men of the valley had gone to 
 fight their country's battles on the plains of 
 New Jersey. Aware of this fact, an expe- 
 dition of three hundred white men and 
 five hundred Indians came down the north 
 branch of the Susquehanna and perpetra- 
 ted the massacre of Wyoming on the third 
 day of July, 1778. At Knawaholee, 
 (where the city of Elmira now stands) a 
 detachment of two hundred Indians, un- 
 der the chief, Gucingeracton, left the main 
 body and crossed over to the west branch. 
 
 It cannot be said that the settlers were 
 unwarned. Tue friendly Indian, Job Chil- 
 loway, (whose name ought to be held in 
 remembrance by their descendants), bad 
 told tliein that such a visitation was to be 
 expected. And now another friendly In- 
 dian came hastily "down Sinnemahoning," 
 with information of a company of fourteen 
 Senecas close at hand and the whole two 
 hundred not far away. Hurriedly the 
 people betook themselves to the stockades 
 they had erected in view of such an emer- 
 gency. Juda Bodine fled with her bus- 
 band and child to the enclosure at Muncy. 
 seven miles away. They could carry with 
 them only their fire-arms and their litllu 
 family Bible. 
 
 Once safe within the stockade, they be- 
 gan to wonder whether they had not been 
 too precipitate. The scouts sent out could 
 discover no signs of Indians. The weather 
 was rainy; and the confinement was irk- 
 some. The Canny Scot began to regret 
 that he had so suddenly abandoned his 
 possessions. He determined to make an 
 effort to bring off his cattle. Peter Sliufelt 
 and William Wyckoft were willing to aid 
 in the endeavor. It was past noon when 
 I hey reached the house, which they fojnd 
 precisely as it had been left. Tying their 
 horses at the door, they entered, and be- ' 
 gan to prepare themselves a meal. Sud- 
 denly they were alarmed by a commotion 
 among the horses, and, looking out, saw 
 the fourteen Indians approaching from the 
 barn, led by a Tory neighbor. Seiz- 
 ing th^ir guns, they rushed for the coveit 
 of the friendly trees, and were fired upon 
 as they ran. Peter Shufelt fell, and died 
 where he fell. The Scotchman stopped 
 and returned the fire (in the vain hope to 
 
save his friend), and was himself shot by 
 the second volley from the enemy. The 
 bullet passed through his powder-horn, 
 which burned at his sife as he lay a-dying. 
 Both of the men were scalped and their 
 bodies thrown outside the enc osure among 
 tlie pine grubs. William Wyckoff reached 
 the woods in a wounded condition and was 
 finally captured. He was exchanged the 
 next year and gave the details of the con- 
 test. 
 
 It was on the 10th of June, 1778, that 
 Juda Bodine thus became a widow with a 
 young child to care for and dei-titute. No 
 wonder if she were at first in despair. No 
 wonder that she turned down the leaf, in 
 the Bible that had been her husband's, at 
 the words of Job: 
 
 Even today is my complaint bitter: 
 My strolte is heavier tlian my groaning:. 
 
 (It remains still turned down at that pas- 
 sage. ) 
 
 Under the care of her friend and neigh- 
 bor, Robert Covenhoven, who was also a na- 
 tive ot New Jersey, she floated safely down 
 the river with lier boy to Sheinokem, and 
 found safety there in Fort Augusta, then 
 under the command of Col. Hunter. Prom 
 his granddaughter I received one of the 
 calthrops used in the defence of the fort 
 and a medal taken from the body of one of 
 its assailants. The calthrops were strewn 
 thickly about the grass to pierce the moc- 
 casined feet of those attempting the as- 
 sault; and the medals were given to the 
 Indian Chiefs who remained faithful to 
 the King. The powder-magazine of the 
 old fort may still be seen in the middle of 
 the green field not far from the water's 
 edge. 
 
 As soon as practicable, Juda Bodine 
 JDined a party returning to New Jersey. 
 Her child was too small to make the jour- 
 ney on foot, and loo largo to be carried in 
 arms. The horses had luen lost on the 
 ilay of her husban<rs death. But mother- 
 wit is quick wit; and mother-love, a love 
 that triumphs over all obstacles. Slie suc- 
 ceeded in securing a little wagon, of the 
 rudest construction, yet capable of holding 
 the child; and Ibis vehicle she pulled 
 through storm and sunshine, along the 
 gorges, across the streams, through the 
 beech woods, down the valley of the Li'- 
 
 high, and over the Jersey hills to the place 
 whence she had set out, at the liead of 
 Hollants Brook. Three hundred miles the 
 brave woman had dragged that little cart 
 over hill and dale. But she and her boy 
 were at home again among her friends. 
 Fler return was like that of Naomi from 
 the land of Moab. She "went out full,'' 
 and the Lord had brought her " home again 
 empty." The one tref sure which she still 
 possessed, the only relic rescued from the 
 destruction of her home by the heathen, 
 was the little Bible. 
 
 She was destitute, and none of her rel- 
 atives were in a condition to render her 
 more than a very limited assistance, even 
 if she had been willing to receive it, for 
 the devastations of war had been felt on 
 the Raritan quite as severely as on the 
 Susquehanna, as two or three instances 
 may show. During her absence New Jer- 
 sey had been the tramping ground of both 
 the hostile armies. Thomas Paine, who 
 accompanied Washington's army on the 
 retreat across New Jersey, on arriving at 
 Philadelphia had issued his American Crisis 
 witli the article beginning: "These are the 
 times that try men's souls." They were. 
 The roads about New Brunswick are still 
 red; but not so red as they were that dread 
 November day when the march of the 
 patriot array could be traced by the blood 
 that oozed from their bare and bleeding 
 feet. It is recorded that when Washing- 
 ton saw the stains made by the blood ot 
 William Lyon, a soldier of Middlesex, aa 
 he was marching over the frozen ground, 
 the great man checked his horse and said: 
 " My brave boy, you deserve a better 
 fate;" and the brave boy answered: 
 "There is no danger of my feet freezing 
 as long as the blood runs." 
 
 And after those heroes had passed, their 
 families were robbed by their pursuers. 
 On Saturday, November 30, 177G, Gen. 
 Ilovvc issued to all who should sign a decla- 
 ration that they would henceforth be peace- 
 able subjects of the King a Proclamation 
 of Amnesty, granting them "a free and 
 full pardon for the past." 
 
 The next day a British officer was at J'is- 
 cataway-town, receiving submissions and 
 granting protections. Among those v\ho 
 came thither to make submission was a 
 
mail from IVrtli Anilioy, named Samuel 
 Diinl.ip. He had vvilli liiin his son, Will- 
 iam, who urcw up to be an enthusiastic 
 puliiot and a noted American painter and 
 litUrnteur. It was he who jjainted the 
 ••rayon portrait of Washington when tlie 
 General was writing liis farewell address 
 at Kocl<y Ilill. In his conversational 
 "Illsitory of New York" lie has told us 
 what lie saw io tliis vicinity during the 
 war. I quote : 
 
 "How did the hostile army treat the 
 inhabitants? 
 
 "Some of tlie Yeomanry 'came in,' as it 
 was, and, according to the proclamation 
 issued by the Howes submitted and re- 
 ceived paper protections; but most of the 
 men retired and left tlieir property to the 
 mercy of tlie enemy. It was my hap, tlien 
 a little bov, to be in a village on llie route 
 of tlie army, and I saw tlie process of plun- 
 dering the houses in which old men, women 
 and children had been left in confidence 
 that British magnanimity would shield 
 them. The plunderers were Hessian, I 
 suppose ? Not one, on tins occasion. They 
 were British Infantry; and Gen. Grant 
 was in a house of the little place, (it was 
 at Piscataway) receiving submissions and 
 giving protections. It must have been 
 a strange scene! It made an indelible 
 impression on me. Not far from me stood 
 a female follower of the camp, having 
 charge of a musket, and guarding a pile of 
 liousehold furniture, to which a soldier 
 industriously added by bringing forth from 
 a bouse, where the mistress and lier chil- 
 dren stood weeping at the door, every 
 article he could find, from the table and 
 looking-glass to the tongs and shovel. 
 Pots, kettles, women's clothing and feather- 
 beds were by the same industry transferred 
 from the owners, homes to various piles 
 similarly protected. Here a soldier was 
 seen issuing from a house, armed with a 
 frying-pan and a gridiron; and there a 
 camp follower liearing a mirror in ore 
 hand and a lioltle in the oilier. What 
 could soldiers do with feallier-beds? 
 
 "Tiny ripped them open witli liieir bay- 
 onets, strewed the ruad with their feathers, 
 and their help-ma'es carefully presirved 
 the ticking." "On the day I witnessed 
 this scene," he adds, "Gen. Washington 
 
 was posted at New Brunswick behind the 
 Raritan; but the river was fordable, and 
 his force altogether inadequate to oppose 
 Cornwallis at the head of 8,000 veterans." 
 
 That day w.is Sunday, December 1, 1776. 
 That night Washington retreated to Prince- 
 ton, and the next morning the British en- 
 tered the city, which they held for more 
 than six months. 
 
 How Washington crossed and recrossed 
 the Delaware, fought the battle of Prince- 
 ton, marched through Somerset, and went 
 into winter quarters at Morristown, Janu- 
 ary 6, 1877, is well known. On the eigh- 
 teenth, he wrote to Gen. Schuyler: "The 
 enemy by two lucky strokes, at Trenton 
 and Princeton, have been obliged to aban- 
 don every part of Jersey except Brunswick 
 and Amboy, and the small tract of country 
 between them, which is so entirel}- ex- 
 hausted of supplies of every kind, that I 
 hope, by preventing them from sending 
 their foraging parties to any great distance, 
 to reduce them to the utmost distress, in 
 the course of this winter." 
 
 This hope was only partially realized ; 
 for the British occupied also six-mile-run 
 and Middlebush, and devastated the whole 
 country on both sides of the Raritan, "at 
 tunes," Dunlap tells us, "tearing down 
 fences and out-houses for fuel, or bringing 
 in rebel eows and oxen from the adjacent 
 country; and sometimes bringing in plun- 
 der apparently less necessary for the subsist- 
 ence of anarmy, such as chairs, tables, 
 bureaus, bedsteads, and looking-glasses, 
 piled upon liaggage-wagons and regularly 
 guarded by an escort." 
 
 The very next day after Washington 
 wrote his letter to Gen. Schuyler, the 
 Queen's rangers went up to Bound Brook 
 and robbed Ennis Graham of the contents 
 of a box which he had buried in his barn, 
 securing thus a considerable booty of 
 "cash, plate, watches and jewelry." 
 
 It was on their way back from this raid, 
 or from another like it, that George Ander- 
 son was awakened from sleep by the pas- 
 sage of the British light horse. He was 
 the son of a Scolisli diver who, tiring of 
 such a life in his native land, had come to 
 the colonies at least as early as 1684. His 
 son was now living upon the paternal farm 
 of 2.'50 acres, on the river bank, a part of 
 
wiiicli has been latterly known as "the 
 McClintock place" anil "the Jancway 
 place." He had married Metje Van Wick- 
 clen, the daughter of the owner ot an adja- 
 cent 250 acres ; whose marriage outfit in- 
 cluJed a number of pewter-plalteis, and 
 other dishes of the same material, consti- 
 tuting a large and complete "dinner-set." 
 Oca of these was more than two feet in 
 diameter. In my youth I had tlie privilege 
 on more than one occasion of sitting down 
 to a feast spread upon the groaning table 
 covered with this bright and shining pre- 
 revolutionary plate. I remember ^lending 
 much of the time while waiting for my 
 share of llie turkey, in trying to decipher 
 the exquisitely engraved monogram of 
 Metje Van Wiekelen upon the edge of the 
 largest of the " pewter-platters." 
 
 She was the paternal grandmother of the 
 writir's maternal grandmother. Martha 
 Anderson. George Anderson heard tlie 
 light horsemen pass liis door in the middle 
 of the night; but thought it the part of 
 prudence to lie still till morning. At 
 dawn of day, however, he was out in the 
 road, inspecting the track of tlie marauders, 
 and was rewarded by the discovery of a 
 walcli. It was not one of those stolen 
 from Ennis Graham, it was an English 
 officer's walcli. It had a small minute- 
 hand, and a still smaller hour-hand. But 
 the second-hand was very large, showing 
 that it had been made specially for noting 
 the speed of horses. The finder regarded 
 it as conlralKindof war and appropriated it 
 10 his own use. It is now owned by one 
 of his descendants. Prof. Thompson, of 
 Princeton College, ana is slill a pretty 
 good waich. 
 
 One of the orders issued by Sir William 
 Howe declared that "all salted and meal 
 provisions which may be judged to exceed 
 the quantity necessary for the subsistence 
 of an ordinary family shall be considered 
 a magazine of the enemy, an<l seized for 
 the King, and given to the troops as a 
 saving for the public." 
 
 Thus the pickling tubs and garners of 
 every Jersey farmer became lawful prize, 
 the captor being judgj of the quantity 
 necessary for the subsistence of the family. 
 Under this o.der the tories on the upper 
 waters of the Karitan were as active as the 
 
 British nearer its mouth. Gen. Greene 
 wrote to his wife: "The tories are the 
 cursedest rascals among us, tlie most wick- 
 ed, villainous and oppressive. They lead 
 Ihe nlentless foreigners to the houses of 
 their neighbors, and strip the poor women 
 and childnn of everything they have to 
 <.at and wear. " 
 
 Among the families thus raided was that 
 of Colonel David Scliani, a friend and 
 neighbor of Juda Bodine's when she lived 
 on [loUants Bidok. He was one of the 
 colonial land-holders who kept a pack of 
 twenty or thirty hounds for fox hunting, 
 and raised horses with which to compete 
 in the Long Island races, even down to 
 sixty years ago. His wife was at home 
 alone with her children; but she was equal 
 to the occasion. When a neighbor, on his 
 way to protect his own home, rushed in to 
 announce the approach of a band of Tories, 
 she mounted the most valuable horse and 
 galloped iiway with him to a ravine in the 
 woods where she hid him securely. Re- 
 turning, she had lime only to turn another 
 very valuable hoi'se loose in the road, where 
 tlie marauders in vain tried to catch him. 
 Wlien they reached the house they found 
 the Dutch woman standing at her cellar- 
 door, pilch fork in band, to defend her 
 meat barrels. Tlireats and attempts to pass 
 or seize her were all in vain. They were 
 not quite willing to kill her for what they 
 could get more easily from some other cel- 
 lar; and so she saved her food for her 
 children. 
 
 Two years of such experiences as these 
 had deprived Juda Bodine's friends, as I 
 have said, of ability to provide for her. 
 She was without means of support save 
 such as she should find in herself. But she 
 had inherited the virtues of generations of 
 struggle with adversities, civil and relig- 
 ious; and her life for nearly half a century 
 hail been such as to develop her inborn 
 strength of character and fit her for the 
 future upon which she was now entering. 
 
 She was named after the Jewish widow 
 whose wisdom and courage had given a 
 future to her people; and the better 
 courage of this Christian widow now 
 rose in like manner to the height of the oc- 
 casion. She had only her son to live for; 
 but she would live for liim in such a way 
 
as to innkf him wnitliy "f lii's nnccstry ; 
 and she .iiil. Arciislomoil to toil, slie be- 
 came working houskeepcr for the aged 
 .Tacohiis Vandervcer at Ids plantation on 
 Hnllanls Brook, two miles cast of the spot 
 where her hoy was horn. 
 
 Here she made a home for herself and her 
 child, and sent him to pcliool while he was 
 yet too younj; for manual labor. After that 
 she took care that he should become famil- 
 iar with all manner of work on the farm 
 and in due season, that she micht make 
 hira independent of untoward events, hound 
 him prentice to Pietro Mazzini, the Italian 
 tailor.' 
 
 Abonl that time Dr. .Jacob .Tenninjs who 
 afterwards became a preacher in Virginia, 
 was be!;inning the pr.irlice of medicine at 
 Hollanls Brook; and .luila Bodine for some 
 reason, found it necessary to sue him at the 
 law for one pound, fifteen shillings and 
 six pence, which amount she recovered, ac- 
 cording to the testimony of Esquire Peter 
 Bruner's docket, lhoii|i;ti no further partic- 
 ulars of the transaction are now known. 
 
 Leaving Hollants Brook, she obtained em- 
 ployment for a short time with Peter 
 Whorley who kept the big stone tavern 
 just west of the place where the village of 
 Rarilan now stands. The house had been 
 buill early in the century by a noted law- 
 yer named Peregrine La Grange, whose 
 properly was confiscated because he adher- 
 ed to the Crown. It was bousht at auction 
 by a still more noted lawyer, William Pat- 
 terson, who had lived at New Brunswick 
 when he was a boy. He was graduated in 
 1703 at Princeton, where Aaron Burr 
 learned to know him, and other law stud- 
 ents afterward lived with him in the big 
 stone house while pursuing their studies 
 under his direction. Mr. Patterson was a 
 member of the convention that framed the 
 constitution of the United States; was a 
 Senator from New Jersey in tlie First 
 
 ■*It 13 not Itnown that Pietro beloiiKed to tlie same 
 family wliicti a century later gave to tlie world tlio 
 cniiutnt state^^man, .losepli Mazzini, tmt he w.is 
 ceitainly a diplomatist in liis way His quondam 
 prentice would sometimes tell in after years liow 
 poi>r Pietro, unable to obtain in this bleaker clime 
 the mild wine^ to which be had been accustomed in 
 bis native land, wasfuin to solace himself as best he 
 c mid with Jersey whiskey. On one occasion having 
 taken too much of his now favorite l>everage, his 
 hand was unsteady, and, in working upon a vest for 
 
 Congress; was Governor of New Jersey 
 and after that a Judge of the Supreme 
 Court of the United States. The citj of 
 Paterson was named after him in the year 
 1800. Many men who afterward became 
 eminent in different parts of the country 
 were among the law students in this house. 
 I remember with '"hat reverence I looked 
 in my youth upon a mansion which had 
 been the home of manv great men. 
 
 After the war it fell into the hands of 
 Peter Whorlev. He was a man of property, 
 and of a certain kind of influence. He seems 
 to have been a constable, as well as an inn- 
 keeper, and to have discharged his duties 
 with a zeal born of innate cruelty. 
 
 Indeed, he is remembered chiefly for his 
 cruelty to negro slaves. " Any negro found 
 five miles from home it was the duty of 
 these oBicers to arrest, and to flog with a 
 whip into the thongs of which fine wire 
 was plaited. For this service the owners 
 were obliged to pay the constables five 
 shillings, which materially augmented the 
 income of these officials, and added largely 
 to the value and importance of the posi- 
 tion." 
 
 Peter Whorley was unusually zealous in 
 the discharge of such duties. Many of the 
 blacks living up the river bad wive? owned 
 by planters in the neighborhood of New 
 Brunswick and the way thither lay past 
 Peter Whorley's door. He was known far 
 and wide for the persistency with which 
 he would watch for negroes passing by, 
 and punish them according to law. And 
 lie was equally cruel to his own slaves. 
 His method of " breaking them in," as he 
 called it, was told by Juda Bodine to her 
 son, and from his son the story came to 
 me. With club in hand he led the slave 
 he had just bought out to the chicken- 
 house, and commanded him to jump over 
 the building. When the man declared his 
 inability to accomplish so impossible a 
 
 a customer, he cut one of the pockets all the way to 
 the buttons. Nothing daunted, when the vest was 
 finished he divided the pocket into two.one'being of 
 the usual size, and the other, next the buttons, 
 very small. When the young man came for bis vest, 
 the bland Italian explained to bis satisfaction that 
 the small pocket was a device recently introduced to 
 relieve the anxiety always felt for a " button-bole 
 boquet" because of its insecurity, by pl.ieing it in 
 safety in the place thus provided lor it aod known 
 as the " posy pocket.". 
 
thing, without a word lie was struck sense- 
 less to the ground. When heUiad recov- 
 ered sufficiently to stand upon his feet 
 again the command was repeated, and 
 when the victim opened his mouth to 
 remonstrate, again the blow fell and again 
 the poor man lay prostrate. Struggling to 
 his feet, he heard the command for the 
 third time, jumped against the building 
 and again fell bruised and bleeding to the 
 earth. Thereupon the master declared 
 himself satisfied, saying: "When I tell 
 you to do a thing, do it; or try to do it at 
 any rate." 
 
 Escaping from contact with such a brute, 
 Juda Bodine found a home in the family 
 of Esquire Jacob Degroot, not far from the 
 mouth of Ambrose's Brook. Steadily from 
 the day of her husband's death had she 
 been making her way toward the place 
 where she was I orn ; and now she stood 
 again by the stream on whose banks she 
 had played when a child. 
 
 What changes had come to her mean- 
 while! As she thduglil of all that she had 
 suffered is it strange that she should moan : 
 
 Lover and friend hast tbou put far from me, 
 And mine acquaintance into darkness ! 
 
 But presently the murmuring waters 
 would soothe her perturbed spirit into 
 peace with the musical monotony of the 
 song they sang. It was a song without 
 words, a song sung only to the souls of 
 such as have ears to hear, a song that wail- 
 ed till our own day for an interpreter to 
 translate it into language intelligible to our 
 common-place experience: 
 
 I steal by lawns and grassy plots ; 
 
 I glide by hazel-covers, 
 I move the sweet forget-me-nots 
 
 That grow for happy lovers : 
 I slip, I slide, I glance, I glow, 
 
 To join the brimming river; 
 For men may come and men may go. 
 
 But I go on forever. 
 
 ■ With many a curve my banks I fret 
 
 By many a field and fallow ; 
 And many a fairy foreground set 
 
 With willow-weed and mallow. 
 And liven all my plants, and flow 
 
 To join the brimming river ; 
 For men may come and men may go. 
 
 But I go on forever. 
 
 I murmur under moon and stars 
 
 In branching wildernesses ; 
 I linger by my shingly bars ; 
 
 I loiter round my cresses : 
 And out again I curve, and How 
 
 To join the brimming river ; 
 For men may come and men may go, 
 
 But I go on forever. 
 
 And so she fpent there the remainder of 
 her days in quietness and peace, blessed 
 and a blessing. She had the comfort of 
 knowing that her son was respected and 
 esteemed by all who knew him. She vi.'it- 
 ed him on his plantation in the neighbor- 
 hood in which he was born, and held his 
 son in her motherly arms. She tasted of 
 the fruit of her labors and was satisfied. 
 
 It was OG the seventeenth day of June, 
 1796, that this son paid the last sad tribute 
 to her memory, at Bound Brook, and, re- 
 turning to his home, gave her name to his 
 oldest daughter born while he was standing 
 by the oi)en grave. 
 
 The only legacy his mother left him, be 
 side the innate ethical courage which had 
 manifested itself in her life, was the Bible 
 which had been her husband's companion 
 during the long and tedious crossing of the 
 Atlantic, and amid the people here whose 
 language he understood not; which had 
 given the keynote to their family life on 
 Hollants Brook and on the Loyalsock; 
 which had comforted her in her extremity 
 and taught her to put her trust, and not in 
 vain, in the God of the fatherless and the 
 widow. 
 
 It was customary in those days for a 
 woman who could write to inscribe her 
 name in her Bible, with the added s'ale- 
 ment that "God gave her grace therein to 
 look," etc. This pious formula of covert 
 self-laudation she turned into a prayer and 
 wrote after her name: 
 
 Juda Thomson, her book ; 
 
 God give her grace therein to look 1 
 
 Not only to look, but to understand. 
 
 Every leaf of this book is water-staineil, 
 probably by the exposures of tlie memora- 
 ble journey from the Susquehanna to ilie 
 Kaiitan. The old calf of the binding is 
 worn into holes by long use; and onlv 
 pieces of the ancient clasps remain inT- 
 b<-dded in one side of the thick cover. 
 The leaf which contains the family record 
 is brilllc, and begins to crumble at the 
 edges. Not much longer, brobabiy, can 
 the venerable rdic be preserved. But the 
 memory of such an ancestry and the imma- 
 nent moral life transmitted Iherctrcim 
 should ennoble character to the latest gen. 
 eration. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 011 801 967 2 
 
 :^;:\