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ffXS pAKLY AND IJODrKN ^ISTOKY 
 
 Romantic Legends ! 
 
 Wonderful Railroad Progress ! 
 
 Unprecedented Growth of Country ! 
 
 Fearful and Heart-rending Shipwreck Scenes I 
 
 Extraordinary Strides in Ten Years ! 
 
 Ancient Tale of Haddonfield I 
 
 The Wagoner's Proposal I 
 
 ^Ijrlabtlpljia: 
 
 AVM. C. HARRIS & CO., PUBLISHERS AND PRINTERS 
 125 South Third Street. 
 
 1868 
 
ATLANTIC CITY. 
 
 Il^^ l^^arhr and mknx lisiorir. 
 
 CARNESWORTHE, 
 
 WM. C. HARRIS & CO., PUBLISHERS AND PRINTERS, 125 S. THIRD ST. 
 
■ fT4^ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1SC8, by 
 
 WM. C. HARRIS & CO. 
 
 In the Clerk's OflBce of the District Court of the United States, in and for tho 
 Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 
 
I^onlenls: 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Early History, . , . . . 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Legendary, , . . . . I4 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Denouement, .... 23 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Natural Features — -Projected Railroad, . . 29 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Railroad Record, , . . '. 34 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Present City, .... 46 
 
 CHAPTER Vli. 
 
 The Lighthouse and the Wrecks, . . 49 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The City itself — its Topography, . . 70 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Growth of Country on Railroad line, . . 80 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Hot Weather Theatricals, ... 91 
 
 3 
 
Introiutlorg* 
 
 If historic truth should be no less sacred than religion, 
 there can certainly be no roason why the history of the 
 fashionable watering place known as Atlantic City, should 
 be less important to the heau monde of Philadelphia, than 
 the annals of Bath in the days when Nash shone in the 
 splendor of his gorgeous ruffles, beneath the smiles of the 
 House of Orange, or than those of England's metropolis in 
 the sunny times when Bryan Brummell paddled the 
 pioneer canoe of phantasy upon the stream of London 
 fashion. 
 
 How many claims has Absecon Beach upon the inhabi- 
 tants of the Middle States, and more especially upon the 
 people of Philadelphia. There, beneath the exhilarating 
 influence of the saline air and surging surf, we take our 
 summer's salty solace, and shuffle oflF the accumulation of 
 fatigue under which a winter's weary work has made us 
 
 5 
 
6 
 
 suflFer. There, too, we meet our old accustomed friends, 
 not to buy and sell — not to talk horse, grain, or iron with 
 them — not to waste the day in wordy wrangle with them 
 about stocks, bonds, and the fluctuations of the gold 
 market — but we meet them to read, convulsed with laughs, 
 the funny bill of fare of an enterprising hotel keeper, who 
 loves to make amusement for his friends by providing them 
 with food for their risible, as well as for their corporeal 
 appetites, and also by providing them with the true pleas- 
 ure ever experienced in the poetry of motion at the gigan- 
 tic hops, where the dancing toe keeps step alike, to the 
 music of the band and the eternal symphony of old Ocean. 
 
 There, too, the student and the clerk, rejoicing in the 
 leisure of the summer holidays, delight to kill the heavily 
 hanging time, as they bask in the sunbeams of the school 
 girls' eyes and ardently wish that summer was eternal — 
 books all buried — the world turned upside down — in order 
 that the pleasures of Absecon Beach and its fleeting amuse- 
 ments might linger to the last of life. 
 
 In short, so nearly, dearly and serenely is this now civi- 
 lized — once wild and savage retreat, connected with all our 
 thoughts of hot weather pleasures — all our dreams of sum- 
 mer joy, that the history here presented will undoubtedly 
 be read by old and young — by saint and sage — by clerio 
 
7 
 
 and disciple — for it is^ at once, tlie record of home life 
 and higli life, of low life and middle life — tlie story of 
 joys, pleasures and pastimes — of liappy fights with foam- 
 ing waves — of long-loved walks and lovely drives — all of 
 which are, and have been the product of that mighty and 
 conquering genius, known to us all by the name of Ameri- 
 can enterprise. 
 
CHAPTER 
 
 it # 
 
 The purpose of this book is to place in the hands of 
 our readers the history of Atlantic City, from the far off 
 days, -when the savage held undisputed occupancy of the 
 meadows, where are now enacted the scenes incident to 
 civilized pleasure, down to a time that is within the cog- 
 nizance of the present visitor to old Absecon — we shall re- 
 count the changes from savagism to civilization, from 
 lethargy to activity, from activity to the accomplishment 
 of the grand work which energy and enterprise have 
 wrought out, and we shall endeavor at the same time to 
 point out the causes and accidents that produced these 
 happy results in so short a time. 
 
 Of the aboriginal history of Atlantic City, little is 
 known. In the latter part of the seventeenth century, a 
 
 9 
 
10 
 
 Portuguese adventurer, named Leonarda, wlio was sup- 
 posed to be a lineal descendant of Vasco da Gama, was 
 shipwrecked upon tlie American coast. His crew per- 
 ished. He, himself, with a few faithful followers was 
 saved a watery grave, through the friendly exertions of 
 some Delaware Indians. After enduring the most severe 
 hardships, these penniless Portuguese made their way on 
 foot to New York city. There, wandering through the 
 town, among other delicacies of temporary poverty, they 
 succeeded in obtaining the " cold shoulder" from the an- 
 cestors of the Knickerbocker aristocracy. In this condi- 
 tion of misery they providentially fell in with a Portu- 
 guese skipper, who commanded a barque. The sufferers 
 were taken aboard, kindly cared for on their voyage home- 
 ward, and after a passage of ten weeks were again in 
 their native land. Leonarda returned to Portugal to find 
 that his lady-love, a young woman of distinction, had died 
 during his absence. The government requested him to 
 write the narrative of his sufferings and adventures. He 
 did so, but would not hear of the publication of his ac- 
 count. His ambition was gone. He lived only for his 
 loving, dark-eyed beauty, whom he had left behind, and 
 now that he had been spared the waves only to endure 
 fresh misery at home, he ardently wished that he had sunk 
 
11 
 
 beneath the billows and joined his Bellsicosa in the im- 
 mortality of affection. Three years after his arrival in his 
 native land he died of a broken heart at Oporto. In his 
 will he desired that the story of his voyage should never 
 be published. The government respected his request and 
 deposited the record in the archives of the bureau of navi- 
 gation, where it perished in a conflagration, along with 
 other public documents, twenty years since. About thirty- 
 five years ago an American traveler gained access to this 
 quaintly written document. This antiquary describes it 
 as "a sincere and plaintive, but simple story of adventure, 
 which is probably rendered more sad in tone, than it 
 would otherwise have been, by reason of the private 
 troubles that were weighing upon the heart of Leonarda, 
 when he wrote it." From the correct description of the 
 beach, contained in this peculiar parchment, as well- as 
 from the frequent mention therein, of the colony of New 
 Jersey, there can be no doubt that the unfortunate ship- 
 wreck, of which Leonarda was one of the few survivors, 
 took place at no other spot than Absecon Beach. 
 
 The aforesaid American traveler and antiquary, made 
 copious extracts from this valuable record. On his return 
 to America, he deposited these researches, in the custody 
 of the oldest inhabitant of Atlantic City, which at that 
 
12 
 
 time contained but four houses. That ubiquitous old 
 lady (the oldest inhabitant) lost the original dnanuscript 
 some fifteen years ago, but had previously taken the pre- 
 caution to make extracts in a note-book, into which she 
 incorporated much useful information, concerning wrecks 
 and murders. The writer has fortunately obtained access 
 to these hitherto unfrequented stores of information, and 
 has been assisted in the business of perpetrating history, 
 by many good citizens of Philadelphia, Absecon, and 
 Atlantic, to all of whom he takes this opportunity of 
 returning his sincere thanks from, as Charles Dickens 
 would say, "his heart of hearts." In spite of the plain- 
 tive feature that according to the above quoted traveler, 
 pervades the original narrative of Leonarda, that traveler, 
 provided the old woman's note-book be correct, has left 
 behind him many humorous legends, which throw consid- 
 erable light upon the customs and habits of life of the 
 aboriginal Dclawares, who occupied that portion of the 
 coast upon which now stands Atlantic City. 
 
 Since the record of Leonarda ^s no longer in existence, 
 it is of course impossible to gain any reliable information 
 upon this subject, which if not important, cannot fail to 
 be interesting. We have therefore determined to lay before 
 the public, such a specimen of the Indian legends of 
 
13 
 
 Absecon beach, as we liave, with difficulty, managed to 
 decipher out of the hieroglyphics of the aged matron, 
 who has lived in Atlantic since the year of our Lord 
 1818, more than thirty years before Atlantic City had an 
 existence. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 fjgcntorn. 
 
 Where be the place that has not its romance and its 
 poetry? There exists no nook, no gi'ove, no rivulet, no 
 fountain, no wood, no cataract, which does not hold up to 
 us, through the dim vista of the past, some bright or foul 
 picture. The rough Hellespont cannot move without 
 murmuring forth the fidelity of Hero and Leander; the 
 willow at the tomb of Ninus still weeps over the cruel fixte 
 of Pyramus and Thisbe; the vale of Avoca is still 
 haunted by the spirits of the faithful two, who rather 
 than suflFer separation, by the interposition of inexorable 
 parents, died in each other's arms, by jumping from a 
 lofty cliiF, a spot still pointed out to travelers, as the 
 "Lovers' Leap." Other places have their records of 
 murder and cruelty — we prefer to deal as much as possible 
 
 14 
 
15 
 
 witli such stories and incidents, as awaken our tenderness 
 and pity, rather than with those that fill the mind with 
 things terrible and revolting. The inspired by Mantua's 
 muse may sing of war; and the "blind old man of Scio's 
 Eocky Isle" may chant "Achilles' wrath, to Greece, 
 the direful spring of woes unnumbered." Our legendary 
 specimen must teem with the milk of sentiment and 
 pathos, or with none. 
 
 The watering-place which we celebrate in prose, though 
 but lately known to civilized people, had in former times 
 its sunshine and its darkness. In the mutilated manu- 
 script of the old lady, above referred to, we are able, by 
 dint of perseverance, and after several almost fruitless 
 attempts to decipher her hen-scratches, to give in our 
 own words, but with due fidelity to the original, an Indian 
 narrative of love and war. The events are known to have 
 occurred among the native Delawares of Absecon beach, 
 that is, provided the " Jersey Shore," upon which Leon- 
 arda was wrecked, be really the same spot as is understood 
 by Atlantic City — and of this there is barely room for a 
 doubt. 
 
 It appears, that while Leonarda was detained among 
 the indians, by his wreck, a civil commotion broke out 
 among the yellow tribe, on somewhat the same grounds as 
 
16 
 
 tliose upon whicli the Grreek heroes, Agamemnon and 
 Achilles quarreled and separated. At the time wherein 
 the startling events about to be related occurred, there 
 was but one tribe in that locality. Not the least entertain- 
 ing of the tribe, was a young Indian girl, who loved the 
 brother of the chief, and was beloved by him in turn. 
 Her mother had died shortly after she had given birth to 
 the future inamorata of the chief's brother, and at the 
 time of which we speak, she had no near relative left but 
 her father, who was dragging out a miserable life, by 
 reason of a severe wound in the nape of the neck, which 
 he had received from an arrow, and which had now 
 turned into a cancer. 
 
 The chief, who happened to be the elder of two brothers, 
 was much enamored by the Fair Ocean Maid. This was 
 the name by which she was known in the language of the 
 Delawares. He was not long, however, in finding that 
 his passion was not reciprocated, but, that on the con- 
 trary, the fair object of his affections, basked in fancied 
 sunshine when his brother smiled upon her, and would 
 much prefer the frown of him she loved, to the smile of 
 one to whom she was indifferent. In this dilemma, the 
 chief, mortified because the glitter of his lofty position 
 dazzled the eyes of the fair red girl, less than the simple 
 
17 
 
 look of liim she loved, attempted what is always an im- 
 possible task, viz : to turn the bent of true aflPection, and 
 thus win the fair girl by force. He forbade and pre- 
 vented all interviews between the lovers, and in the spirit 
 of that celebrated dog, that once upon a time occupied a 
 manger, had her strictly confined and guarded in his own 
 wigwam. No prayers on her part, no protestations on tha 
 part of her father could shake his purpose. The brother, 
 whom he had hitherto loved, he now hated, and kept 
 under the strictest surveillance and subordination. 
 
 The young brother had a goodly number of youthful 
 companions who favored his cause, and who swore to 
 assist him in winning by force and valor, her of whom 
 tyranny had deprived him. The better to carry out their 
 designs, he and they broke off at night from the gen- 
 eral encampment, after a fruitless attempt to rescue the 
 Fair Ocean Maid, and having traveled a distance of about 
 four miles, they constructed some wigwams, where they 
 proposed to reside, and immediately set to work in pre- 
 paring to make a second assault on the encampment of 
 the chief. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Indian girl, as is usual in such cases, 
 pined hourly for her beloved, and no allurements on the 
 part of her would-be husband, could incline her in his 
 
18 
 
 favor. Whenever lie went to the chase, he left a strong 
 body of men to guard his wigwam, lest his gentle and ro- 
 mantic savage should become the prize of his fraternal 
 enemy. Among this guard was a young man named 
 Wau-Koo-Naby, who had loved the captive from his 
 childhood. The disinterestedness and unselfish nature of 
 true affection were never better exemplified than in the 
 conduct of this Indian. Though Wau-Koo-Naby knew 
 that she could never be his, yet he would have risked his 
 life to rescue her from the hands of one with whom he 
 knew she could never be happy. One day during the 
 absence of the chief, while Wau-Koo-Naby was talking 
 apart with the fair child of the ocean, he suggested to 
 her the idea of attempting an escape. At the first 
 thought of such an undertaking, her mind wavered. The 
 risk she would run ! What if she should be overtaken ? 
 And more dreadful than the rest, what if Wau-Koo-Naby 
 should prove false, or set her free, only to demand his 
 own gratification at her expense, as the price of her 
 liberty? But then thought she, this cannot be. How 
 often had she found him true ! How wont was he her 
 path to strew, with white men's scalps in deadly mass, 
 o'er which she might in triumph pass. How oft had 
 they been used to walk, and in dark lonely places, talk of 
 
19 
 
 lofty deeds and foamy steeds, owned by their brawny 
 great grandsires; whose stories told from sire to son, 
 around the old time Indian fires, had by their spirit many 
 a victory won. How oft had he, when others stood re- 
 tarded, her holy virtue bravely guarded, against foul 
 attack. Thus his faithfulness so well he'd proved, that by 
 his love she hoped to win her loved. A plan was soon 
 agreed upon for effecting her escape. What will not 
 love do to gain its purpose ? It will hang on a shred, on 
 a straw, on a hair. It will dazzle the fancy more than 
 our grandam, or our Sunday School teacher could ever 
 hai»e done by their glowing descriptions of Paradise. It 
 will cause the stone to weep with it, the tree to sigh with 
 it, the bird to sing to it, and all nature to rejoice or to 
 grieve with it. And indeed the Ocean Girl allowed the 
 thought of her escape, and of her happy re-union with 
 her young lover, to impress itself so deeply upon her 
 mind, that she thought nothing on earth could be so cruel 
 as to thwart her design. 
 
 The night chosen for the escape was peculiarly aus- 
 picious. Angry Neptune made the sea to swell, and 
 Jove thundered forth the artillery of all the gods. 
 Boreas rose in all his mighty power, as if to bid good 
 cheer to the Ocean Girl. The ancient ocean heaved its 
 
20 
 
 troubled breast, and in its eternal spirit of unrest, seemed 
 to speak for tbe Great Spirit, and say " from everlasting 
 to everlasting/' The cbief had been absent at the chase 
 since mid-day, and had not yet returned. The partner 
 of her designs had persuaded his fellow-guardsmen to go 
 to sleep, assuring them that he would keep an eye to his 
 captive, and awake them on the approach of any person 
 near the wigwam. No sooner had the redskins given 
 over their weary frames to sleep, than the watchful pair 
 crept out of the wigwam, and fled with utmost speed, in 
 face of wind and storm, in the direction in which they 
 imagined they would find the chief's brother. After ftiey 
 had been gone about two hours, they were obliged to take 
 rest in a grove. The rigors of the night had thrown them 
 into a state of complete exhaustion. No sooner were 
 they seated upon the ground, than they beheld lights at a 
 distance, and horses passing and re-passing between them 
 and the lights. They both concluded that the lights were 
 the fires of her young friends' encampment. Why should 
 they think otherwise ? The sight of these lights re- 
 stored the courage of the exhausted couple. They im- 
 mediately directed their steps whither the watch-fires 
 allured. As they approached the encampment, they 
 called to their friends for assistance. They were as yet, 
 
21 
 
 however, too far from the encampment for their voices to 
 be heard, amid the din and clamor that rent the midnight 
 air in the vicinity of the lights. The fires, too, were 
 much farther than their sight had led them to imagine. 
 When they drew closer to the spot where they conjectured 
 their friends were, the noise of prancing steeds and the 
 loud war-cry, told her and her companion that something 
 terrible was on the tapis. The Ocean Girl cried frantically 
 to her supposed friends, to come to her assistance. The 
 warriors despatched two mounted red men to the spot. 
 Whether these men were friends or foes, the red girl and 
 her companion could not decide, for the dense darkness of 
 the night made it impossible to distinguish, at their then 
 distance from the fires, either the features or the dress of 
 the red men. One of the Indians dismounted, and con- 
 trary to all the traditional usuages of the redskins, smote 
 Wau-Koo-Naby to the earth with his tomahawk, and thus 
 fell at her side, the companion of the Ocean Girl. The 
 latter swooned at the sight. The dismounted warrior 
 swung the gentle captive upon his horse, jumped on 
 behind her, and conveyed her to quarters that were by no 
 means agreeable to herself. * * * 
 
 The moment the guardsmen, who had been placed to 
 watch the Indian girl, awoke and found her gone, they 
 
22 
 
 immediately mounted the fleetest horses they could find 
 and hastened to inform the chief of the infidelity of Wau- 
 Koo-Naby. The chief swore by his tribe that the treach- 
 orous Indian should no longer live. He accordingly 
 called tho. warriors together in council, and ordered them 
 to prepare for the recapture of the Ocean Girl. The com- 
 motion incident to Indian war movements ensued, and 
 this was the uproar that startled Wau-Koo-Naby and his 
 companion, upon approaching the watch-fires as above re- 
 lated. The chief succeeded, as we have told, in effecting 
 a portion of his purpose. 
 
CHAPTER 
 
 l^k j]cn0uemcnt« 
 
 The rough sea had brought on a calm, fine morning. 
 The air was cool and refreshing. The birds' merry song 
 could be heard fi'om the wigwam, and the stormy billows 
 that had been all night long, so furiously lashing old 
 Absecon beach, had at last sunk into the bosom of the 
 ocean, and the wide expansive sea was level and bright as 
 a mirror. Already the gorgeous sun was flashing golden 
 blessings upon the beach, and forcing its wakening light 
 through the openings of the wigwam, where the Ocean 
 Girl cast her Eeiliad piercingly, and beheld sitting at the 
 entrance of her habitation, in sullen, pensive mood, the 
 very man, whom of all others she least desired to see — the 
 chief Her heart sank within her. Uttering a smothered 
 groan, she hid her face in her blanket. Then back upon 
 
 23 
 
24 
 
 her sorrowing soul, came like foul spectres all the deeds 
 and sufferings of the preceding night. Could it all have 
 been but a dream? she asked herself; and wishing for an 
 affirmative reply, she was about to raise her eyes to 
 heaven, to thank the Great Spirit, that she had passed 
 through no dread realities — that "Wau-Koo-Naby lived 
 — when those eyes, raised to thank heaven that no life 
 had been taken, caught sight of her companion's blood upon 
 her arms and hands. 
 
 She again groaned, and gave vent to sorrow in tears, 
 such as Namaoke shed, when the "poor Indian woman" 
 lost her child. Although the chief at first felt infuriated 
 by the Ocean Girl's attempt at an escape, yet, in the 
 luxury of her eyes, his anger easily cooled, and he vainly 
 spent the day in straining stratagems and making passion- 
 ate persuasions, in the hope of reconciling his captive to 
 her miserable lot. That night she could not sleep. She 
 had no fear in the chief's presence, for the honor of the 
 red man always prevents his taking advantage of the 
 otter sex. Her restlessness was caused by continuous 
 thoughts of him she loved, crowding upon her. Would 
 she ever see him again ? Had he been killed in battle 
 since last they met ? Did he still think of her ? She 
 hoped so, for she could not help thinking of him. These, 
 
25 
 
 and a hundred other thoughts occupied her musing, 
 when the noise of advancing horses struck upon her ear, 
 and the air was rent with the wild yells of the aboriginal 
 warriors. Her breast heaved for a moment and then her 
 eyes lit up with hope. It was the chief's brother coming 
 to rescue her. The encampment was speedily roused, and 
 a terrible fight ensued. Her lover's attempt to free her 
 from the chief's bondage was unsuccessful. The chief, 
 however, was slightly wounded in the affray, and would 
 have lost his captive, but for the precaution of an old Indian. 
 The latter disguised her in male attire, and lashed her to 
 a horse, which, during the assault he ever held beside 
 him. During the fight, her lover rode beside her many 
 times, and taking her for a man, made several daring 
 dashes at her with his tomahawk, all of which the crafty 
 old Indian skilfully guarded off. The skirmish, which 
 was commenced after midnight, lasted until daybreak next 
 morning, when the younger brother and his men, over- 
 come by the superior forces of their enemy, were obliged 
 to retire to their wigwams, fatigued and disconcerted. 
 The suffering captive, the object of this fighting and 
 bloodshed, was taken from her steed almost lifeless. Her 
 tender limbs had been cut and strained by the bandages 
 with which the old rufiian had tied her. When placed 
 
26 
 
 upon her coucli in the chiefs wigwam, her frame trembled, 
 a cold sweat coursed through her inmost bones. Her 
 bodily suffering, though severe enough was small, com- 
 pared with the mental anguish she endured in thinking 
 that her heart was murdered. When quiet again reigned 
 in the encampment, the chief approached the Ocean Girl, 
 drew close to her couch and looked inquiringly in her 
 face. That face was placid; not a feature moved, the 
 brow was cold. He caught her hands to rouse her, but they 
 dropped beside her as though they had been lead, and re- 
 mained cold and motionless. The chief's heart was 
 struck with compunction; all the proverbially noble 
 nature of the red skinned warrior returned, and falling 
 upon his knees, he called aloud to the Great Spirit for 
 forgiveness. 
 
 The chief was sorely agitated in his own mind. He 
 had broken the heart of the Indian Girl, and had hated 
 his brother. He could not hope to win the Great 
 Spirit's favor, until he had done all that could now be 
 done. After covering with pious care, the body of the 
 Ocean Girl, he rushed from his wigwam and fled to his 
 brother's encampment. He threw himself before Meane- 
 mah, (for that was the young brother's name) crying 
 " Mercy! Mercy ! I have killed the Ocean Girl." 
 
27 
 
 Meanemah raised his tomaliawk to dash dowu the chief 
 of the yellow tribe, when an old Indian stayed the blow, 
 and wrenching the tomahawk from his hand, whispered 
 something in his leader's ear. "No, no !" cried Meanemah, 
 "The red man must not raise his hand against any of the 
 yellow tribe. You are my brother ; I spare you not for 
 that, but that you are my brother in the tribe; I this 
 day could send your soul back to the Great Spirit." 
 
 The chief himself was overwhelmed, and determined to 
 kill himself He inflicted a wound upon his breast and fell 
 upon the ground. Meanemah rushed f]:om the wigwam 
 and ran to the chief's habitation, to embrace in death, 
 her, who in her life had been forced from his arms. 
 
 What must have been his joy, when, upon arrival at 
 her couch, he found the Ocean Girl, more' beautiful than 
 ever, enjoying a gentle slumber. "When the chief imag- 
 ined her dead, she had only fallen into a heavy swoon. 
 The wound which the chief had inflicted upon himself 
 did not prove fatal. He was restored to health and vigor 
 under the efiicient care of the medicine men. 
 
 So far from regretting his mistake, he rejoiced at its 
 result, and thanked the Great Spirit that everybody was 
 happy. He resigned the chiefship in his brother's favor, 
 and resolved to live a tranquil life, which we know he 
 
28 
 
 succeeded in doing, at Ipast up to the time tliat Leonarda 
 left the settlement, along with his Portuguese J.Ieanders, 
 to face the hardships of the pedestrian journey, as above 
 related. 
 
 The young man, who had assisted the captive in her 
 flight, though he had been severely wounded, yet sur- 
 vived and was requited for his fidelity, by receiving in 
 marriage, the hand of the chief's sister. 
 
 This is the first and most interesting story we are able 
 to glean out of the moth-eaten manuscript before us, with 
 the exception, perhaps of the one immediately succeeding 
 it, which, were it not that the thread is broken by the loss 
 of a few leaves in the most important part of the narra- 
 tive, we would take pleasure in submitting to the perusal 
 of our readers. The other stories are of a predatory 
 character, and would tend more to grate than gratify the 
 reader's ear. This one, however, answers our purpose. 
 It sufi&ces to let us know something of the character of 
 the original inhabitants of Absecon beach. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 mknl J pturtil— |roJitctj|d fcilroatl 
 
 When upwards of one hundred years after Leonarda's 
 departure from the New World, the white man first came 
 to settle upon the barren beach, the traces of Indian 
 habitation were few and far between. The place was 
 pregnant with swamps, sand hills and game. This last 
 consisted of foxes, rabbits and wild fowl. An occasional 
 bone hoked from a sand-hill, or an old skull found sunk 
 here and there in a swamp, were all the vestiges left to 
 mark the spot, where a century before, deeds of valor 
 had been done, and scenes of aboriginal love had been 
 enacted. 
 
 It is impossible to conjecture the cause of the deser- 
 tion of this place by the Delawares. Whether they 
 dreaded the encroachments of the sea, or the advancing 
 
 29 
 
30 
 
 avalanche of pale-face occupation, will ever remain a 
 mystery. Certain it is, tliat the Indians must have been 
 unknown to Absecon beach, at least fifty years prior to its 
 settlement by Jeremiah Leeds, Adams the agent, and the 
 antiquated saltworks, that long remained a silent monu- 
 ment of defeated enterprise. 
 
 The earliest white inhabitant of whom we have any 
 knowledge, was the owner of the above mentioned salt- 
 works, and his family. These people must have existed 
 on the bleak shore for a short time prior to the arrival of 
 old Jeremiah Leeds, who found his way to the spot in the 
 year 1818. From the widow of this pioneer, a lady who 
 now enjoys a green old age, the writer has succeeded in 
 obtaining much valuable information, which has been in- 
 corporated into this volume. These early settlers sub- 
 sisted for a long time on the game, in which the beach 
 even to this day abounds. Squatter sovereignty was the 
 law of the place, and well was such supreme power regarded 
 at that early time, by the primitive whites; although the 
 advantages which that power conferred were not so 
 shrewdly turned to account as thoy might have been. 
 Up till the year 1852, when the llailroad project was first 
 mooted, the place was regarded as a succession of barren 
 sand hills and unproductive swamps. It was the resort 
 
of tlio rufcliless wrecker, whose cliief deliglit lay in allur- 
 ing, by false beacon, the storm-tossed mariner upon the 
 dangerous Charybdis, in order that the amphibious bur- 
 glar might reap the reward of his treachery. The news of 
 a wreck was always spread through the interior to the 
 extent of about ten miles, but as we have devoted an 
 entire chapter to "the Wrecks," we shall not enlarge upon 
 the effects which this news invariably produced. With 
 such a class of people living in the neighborhood, it is 
 not surprising, that every mention of improvements was 
 listened to with eager, but jealous ears, by the inhabitants 
 of the six houses that were then upon the island, for from 
 1818, down till the year 1852, in addition to the salt- 
 works and the house of Leeds, the place had only been 
 amplified by four houses. 
 
 During this period of thirty-six years, the beach pre- 
 sented to the unscrutinizing eye of its inhabitants, nothing 
 better than a vast unavailable waste. The keen percep- 
 tion, however, of Dr. Jonathan Pitney, of Absecon, at 
 once detected the peculiar advantages which such a spot 
 offered for bathing purposes. He came, he saw, and his 
 mind conquered the problem. In the extent of the beach, 
 in its gently shelving nature, and smooth and solid sand 
 bed, which produces a gradual declivity, that robs the 
 
32 
 
 dreaded ground-swell of its terrors, Dr. P., twenty years 
 before the railway was thought of by any brain but 
 his own, beheld the physical advantages thus presented to 
 the timid aquarian, to frolic in the breakers with im- 
 punity. But, although the railway problem was already 
 solved in his mind, the Doctor had to fight many ob- 
 stacles, among others, that of deep rooted prejudice, 
 before he could succeed in gaining the ears of capitalists.* 
 In some points of the beach, there exists, at a little 
 distance from the water edge, an outer sand bar. This 
 effectually neutralizes the effect of the surf swell, and 
 enables those, whose salubrity suffers by the shock of the 
 surge, to enjoy a bath in smooth water. Upwards of 
 forty thousand Philadelphians annually enjoy the 
 pleasant advantages which the glorious summer gives 
 them in Atlantic City. All these pleasures and advan- 
 tages of which we now enjoy the full fruition, were 
 present to the mind of Dr. Pitney, long ago. When a 
 wild waste stretched before him for ten miles — when 
 upon that waste there were but six residences for man — 
 when the only individuals, that ever lent a temporary 
 increase to the population of the apparently god-forsaken 
 locality, were either the swarming wreckers, ever eager, 
 
 *For an account of the railway, and the difficulties it encountered, see next 
 Chapter. 
 
33 
 
 ever gluttonous, or the wandering sportsmen from Phila- 
 delphia, who sought to find the gratification of their 
 desires for game, in a place that man had apparently dis- 
 carded — when a man's reason was almost doubted, if 
 he were so Quixotic as to suggest that such a place as 
 Absecon beach might be made not only to serve the inte- 
 rests of civilization, but was capable of being both im- 
 proved into a city of importance, and rendered a for- 
 midable rival to the watering places of the country — 
 when the ignorant regarded enterprise in the socialistic 
 light of theft — then was the oracle of enterprise from 
 the mouth of Jonathan Pitney, heard exclaim, " I shall 
 build upon this wild waste a second Cape May/' . 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Ik Sailroad Ictorl 
 
 At the time when Dr. Pitney first conceived the notion 
 of building a railroad over the meadows of Jersey, for 
 the purpose of connecting Philadelphia with the sea, it 
 was opposed to his proposal, that it would be impossible 
 to draw the people away from Cape May, then the favorite 
 resort. The Doctor's long acquaintance, however, with 
 the Jersey shore, had taught him that Absecon beach was 
 a much more accessible spot than Cape Island. He 
 knew that the journey from Philadelphia to Cape Island 
 lay over a rugged and unsatisfactory upland grade. The 
 scenery, too, was at that time rough and uninteresting, 
 presenting a continued and monotonous aspect of the 
 worst kind of farm country, that belongs to a race pro- 
 verbial for "saving the fractions." 
 
 34 
 
35 
 
 By continued and earnest advocacy of liis darling 
 sclieme, tlie Doctor finally succeeded in obtaining the 
 favorable consideration of monied railroaders, "who lent 
 their countenance to the proposed enterprise, so far, as to 
 hold a preliminary meeting, and appoint Dr. P. to en- 
 gineer a bill through the New Jersey Legislature. The 
 faith, however, both of these capitalists, and the people 
 of Absecon, in the ultimate success of the project, was not 
 of a very strong character. The people along the pro- 
 posed line heard every mention of the coming railroad 
 with derision. Their conduct was a repetition of that of the 
 Fourierites and Socialists. The subsequent history of the 
 road in its organization, subscription to capital stock, and 
 in some other respects, is the old story of the antagonism 
 existing between enterprise and staple stupidity. " Build 
 your road, and the people will starve to death when they 
 get to the beach," said a Jerseyman. "We shall bring 
 over the iron track the food with which to feed them," 
 was the reply of the Doctor. " Build your city, and the 
 winter tides will sweep it away," said the same " cent- 
 saving specimen of humanity. But the settlers builded a 
 city upon tiles, established barriers, and laughed away the 
 terrors of old. Neptune. " People the beach," said 
 another, " and the mosquitoes will drive the summer resi- 
 
36 
 
 dents in herds away." To whicli the Doctor answered : 
 "The salt breeze from the sea will scatter your mosquito 
 pests, and bring healthy cheeks impervious to their sting." 
 These are some specimens of the Jersey facetiousness 
 that was opposed to the railroad. 
 
 Mr. Edwin P. Graham, one of the most respected 
 residents of Haddonfield, New Jersey, informed the 
 writer, that in the early days, when the road was first 
 projected, an old farmer declared he had no particular 
 objection to the railroad, and would give the company all 
 the land they wanted gratis, provided he could " hitch his 
 market wagon on behind the train on market days." 
 
 The result both of the lukewarm faith which capitalists 
 had in the enterprise, and the derision of the people, was, 
 that Dr. Pitney was baffled in his attempt to get a 
 charter. Nothing daunted, however, he returned to 
 Trenton at the next session of the Legislature, and after 
 constant and determined labor,* succeeded both in lobbying 
 through a preliminary bill, and in obtaining the requisite 
 charter. From that time, the railroad was a destined 
 fact, and gradually the attention of capitalists was drawn 
 to the advantages, which, as a summer resort, Atlantic 
 City possessed over Cape May. 
 
 *iu Ibis labor, Di. Pitney was mateiially aided by Joseph E. Potts, Esq. 
 
37 
 
 The Act of Incorporation appointed John W. Mickel, 
 Andrew K. Hay, John H. Coffin, John Stanger, Jesse 
 Richards, Thomas H. Richards, Edmund Taylor, Joseph 
 Thompson, Robert B. Risley, Enoch Doughty, and 
 Jonathan Pitney, to open books to receive subscriptions 
 to the capital stock of the road. The books were ac- 
 cordingly opened at the "Arch Street House," kept by 
 Thompson Newkirk, on the 24th day of June, 1852. Ten 
 thousand shares were immediately taken up, and the books 
 closed before sunset. At six o'clock, P. M. the thirty- 
 eight stockholders met, and elected the following board of 
 directors, viz : William Coffin, Joseph Porter, Andrew R. 
 Hay, Thomas H. Richardson, (who, on the 25th of August, 
 gave place to Mr. J. C. Dacousta,) Enoch Doughty, Jona- 
 than Pitney, Stephen Colwell, Samuel Richards and Wm. 
 W. Fleming. One hour later, the directors met and or- 
 ganized their first meeting with Andrew K. Hay, Esq., in 
 the chair, and Samuel Richards, Secretary, ^jro tern. 
 Messrs. Fleming, Richards and Colwell were appointed the 
 first committee on by-laws. Messrs. Colwell, Coffin and 
 Richards were appointed to select the most favorable ter- 
 minus on the Delaware. At this meeting, the report of 
 Mr. Richard B. Osborne, the Civil Engineer, who had 
 made the preliminary survey, was adopted. In this 
 
report, the prospective advantages of tlie road are well 
 portrayed; and the sequel has been the almost correct ful- 
 filment of Mr. Osborne's prophecies. As he predicted, 
 Haddonfield, Long-acoming, Hammonton, Great Egg 
 Harbor and other towns, have grown up into thriving and 
 industrial villages. 
 
 The proper principles, that should never be lost sight of 
 in all new works, were rigidly adhered to by the pioneers 
 of this railroad. The line and its furniture were carefully 
 adapted to the country through which the road passed. 
 The line was judiciously selected, so that the greatest 
 benefit might be conferred upon the adjacent country and 
 the public in general. The engineer recommended that 
 the line should be as free from curves as possible; and 
 this wise suggestion has to all intents and purposes 
 been acted upon. No monies have been expended, 
 for which the road has not received a full equivalent, and 
 the entire management since 1852, has been characterized 
 by the absence of all outlay for ornamental and unneces- 
 sary work. At the meeting of Directors, held on the 13th 
 of July, Enoch Doughty handed in the names of fourteen 
 new subscribers to the capital stock. They were im- 
 mediately charged a tax of five per cent, upon their in- 
 vestment. The proper contracts were proceeded with, 
 
39 
 
 witliout delay, and tlie railroad lias ever since been a 
 steady success. 
 
 The Company next appointed Dr. Pitney and Mr. 
 Enoch Doughty, to purchase from the heirs of Jeremiah 
 Leeds, who died about the year 1830, such lands upon 
 Absecon beach, as might be required, both for the railway 
 and the other purposes of the Company. The result of 
 the labors of Dr. Pitney and Mr. Doughty was, that two 
 hundred acres of land came into possession of the Railway 
 Company, for the nominal sum of seventeen dollars an acre. 
 The Company also purchased the sole right of way, in 
 width, one hundred feet. This way is now represented by 
 Atlantic Avenue. The Dr. labored hard to have the ave- 
 nues, running parallel with Atlantic of the same width, 
 but the Leeds people objected so decidedly, that the other 
 streets that bear the names of oceans, are not more than 
 eighty feet in width, while the cross avenues that bear 
 the names of states, are not more than sixty. The Rail- 
 road Company was for a time buying up land in such 
 large quantities, that there was passed by the Legislature 
 of New Jersey, a prohibitory act, which prevented the 
 Railroad purchasing more than a certain amount of real 
 estate. 
 
 The result of this restriction, was the formation of a 
 
40 
 
 Land Company, the directors and stockliolders of wliieh, 
 were the same persons who held those positions in the 
 Railway. This was perhaps one of the wisest move- 
 ments that the Company undertook, for it has resulted in 
 incalculable benefits, both to the public and the stock- 
 holders. Although so much had been done to foster this 
 enterprise, although it was plain to the capitalist that an 
 opportunity would by this Railroad be afforded the mer- 
 chant to make his summer residence at the sea shore, 
 while he could at the same time be transacting his busi- 
 ness in Philadelphia; although everything indicated that 
 the rough unexplored region, that lay between Philadel- 
 phia and the beach, could be made profitable in the 
 production of light fruits; although the road was formally 
 opened on the first of July, 1854; yet, unfortunately, the 
 crisis of 1857 found the Camden and Atlantic Railroad 
 with its track laid, but with insufficient rolling stock, a 
 large floating debt, and with the economical completion of 
 incidental works, greatly embarrassed by the stringency in 
 the money market, that followed close upon the failure of 
 the Ohio Life and Trust Co. On account both of this, 
 and the laudable policy of the board of directors, to in- 
 vest the eailiings of the road in its thorough equipment, 
 no dividends have been as yet declared upon the capital 
 stock of the Company. 
 
41 
 
 The first President of the Railroad was Mr. John C. 
 Dacousta. and the first Secretary was Mr. J. Engle 
 Negus. During the incumbency of these gentlemen, the 
 first mortgage bonds of the Company were signed to the 
 amount of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. By 
 this means the rolling stock of the Company was con- 
 siderably increased, and the affairs of the Company 
 gradually improved to such an extent, that with the 
 exception of the temporary lull of 1857, the Railroad has 
 been one continued financial success. 
 
 The report of 1867 is at present before us, and through 
 the courtesy of Mr. Custis, the respected Superintendent 
 of the Road, we are enabled to make a comparison of the 
 earnings of the Road, between the year 1867 and those of 
 1866 and 1860. 
 
 The figures are taken from the books of the Company, 
 and can therefore be relied upon by the general public, as 
 affording a compendious, and at the same time, an exact 
 statement of the existing circumstances of the Rail- 
 way. 
 
 The following table is a correct exhibit for the years 
 named, of receipts and expenditures, including all sums 
 laid out in operations, maintainance and cost of equip- 
 ments, in the various branches of Railroad machinery. 
 
42 
 
 Comparison of 1867, with 1866 and i860. 
 
 
 
 
 a « 
 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 >• 
 
 Z w 
 
 J 1 
 
 
 
 AL EXPEND 
 INCLUDING 
 OP NEW C 
 
 TOTAL IN 
 EEATINO AN 
 AINTAININO 
 
 C5 
 
 p li 
 
 is 
 
 « s 
 
 CO B. 
 
 z 
 
 . 
 
 g i 
 
 B. 
 
 g g 
 Bi ^ 
 
 
 g 
 
 
 m 
 
 s ^ 
 
 s: 
 
 b! 
 
 S Z 
 
 » 
 
 '^ M 
 
 1867 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 2.24 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 b: 
 
 145,268 
 
 325,407 33 
 
 206,058 39 
 
 181,955 85 
 
 1.42 
 
 1.25 
 
 63.323 
 
 55.916 
 
 1866 
 
 146,302 
 
 303,975 22 
 
 200,318 47 
 
 181,797 88 
 
 2.08 
 
 1.37 
 
 1.25 
 
 65.930 
 
 59.810 
 
 1860 
 
 114,532 
 
 160,042 87 
 
 105,181 44 
 
 105,181 44 
 
 1.40 
 
 .92 
 
 .92 
 
 65.720 
 
 65.720 
 
 This exhibit is a most encouraging one to the stockholders 
 of the Company. Comparing 1867 with 1866, we find the 
 former year exceeds the latter in increase of receipts, by 
 $21,432.11, and an increase of receipts per mile, ran 1«y 
 trains, of sixteen cents. The cost of running and 
 maintaining the road, has been less than 56 per cent, of 
 the receipts. Such a result is seldom obtained in even 
 those roads doing the largest business. A table recently 
 prepared for the Central Pacific Railway, gives the per- 
 centage of receipts expended in operating twelve of the 
 principal railroads of the country. The lowest attained 
 is sixty-one and eight-tenths per cent., by the Reading 
 Railroad. The next in order, is sixty-three and one-half 
 per cent., by the Michigan Central Railroad. The others 
 ran up to eighty and twenty-nine one-hundredths per cent. 
 
43 
 
 Again, the comparison between 'G7 and 'GO, the year 
 before the war commenced, and a period of comparative 
 prosperity, finds the figures of 18G7 — the last men- 
 tioned year, showing an increase over 1860, of 103 per cent. 
 in the total receipts, and of 60 per cent, per mile, run by 
 trains, while the increased cost per mile is but 36 per 
 cent. 
 
 These results, not only for a young road, but for 
 many an old one, would be justly characterized as extra- 
 ordinary. 
 
 During 186G and 1867, there were two hundred tons of 
 new iron laid each year, which is included in the above 
 operating expenses of those years, as is every item of ex- 
 penditure, excepting that for actual increase in stock of 
 cars. For a few years, no new iron was laid, but in the 
 two years just named, the depreciation of all perishable 
 improvements, such as engines, cars, rails, &c., was fully 
 repaired, and the cost of these expenses is all included in 
 the above estimates. In future, iron will be laid with 
 much greater promptness than heretofore. 
 
 This is what the railroad, that was originally laughed at, 
 has already grown into, but in addition to its own increase, 
 it has of necessity benefited the public, and by reason of 
 it, has grown up the City of Atlantic, which is to all in- 
 
44 
 
 tents and purposes, tlie creation of railroad* enterpriyo. 
 Before the railroad existed, tlie people of Absecon 
 village employed themselves in the primitive occupation 
 of carting oysters sixty miles to Camden, through the 
 sands of Jersey. This active kind of work, gave employ- 
 ment to the male portion of the people, whilst dredging 
 and fishing were engaged in by both sexes. In those happy 
 days of blissful ignorance, a few dollars per week was an 
 earnest of six days' hard labor, whilst now, the old gran- 
 dams of the family can earn twice as much per day, by 
 raising chickens for hotel use in Atlantic City, as was 
 formerly the pittance of the head of the domestic circle, after 
 a week's weary work. Had the railroad not been in existence 
 thus early, there is no doubt that the people of the whole 
 section of the beach county, would, in seasons of scarcity, 
 have been in danger of starvation. 
 
 The railroad is so inseparably bound up with the pros- 
 perity of Atlantic City, that we may have occasion to 
 refer to it, incidentally, in the future pages of this book. 
 Setting, therefore, the reader's mind at rest, in regard to 
 
 *The present Directors of the Camden and Atlantic Kailrond, are Robert 
 Frazcr, President, Camden Co. N. J., Stephen Colwell, A. .T. Antelo and W. D. 
 ]Jell, Philadelphia; Andrew K. Hay, W'inslow, N. J.; S. Richards, Jackson, N. 
 J.; Jonathan l>itney, Enoch Dou};lity, Absecon, N. J.; Joseph W. Cooper, 6. 
 W. Carpenter, Camden, N. J. ; H. II. Boody, Jas. N. Potter, S. O. Wheeler, Jr., 
 New York. The other officprs of the Company, are, G. W. N. Custis, Esq., 
 General Superintendent; Horace Whiteman, Esq., Secretary and Treasurer ; I). 
 II. Mundy, Esq., General Ticket Agent, Camden. 
 
45 
 
 tlie stupid farmer, by informing the public that the 
 "market wagon has not yet been hitched on behind the 
 train on market days," we respectfully take our leave of 
 the iron horse for the present, hoping that his snort of 
 enterprise, and puff of power, may long live to lend the 
 music and enchantment of advancing civilization, to the 
 wilds of New Jersey. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 |f|e pA§ini |itg. 
 
 The present city is situated upon Absecon Island, a 
 distance of seven miles from tlie mainland. It faces tlie 
 ocean to tlie south-eastward. Atlantic is sixty-two miles 
 by railroad from Philadelphia, and is of easy access, there 
 being two trains daily, to and from the former city, with 
 which there is also direct telegraph communication. 
 
 The entire beach was composed of a succession of sand 
 heaps, thrown up by the heavy winter tides ; it therefore 
 became necessary to level them, and gravel the projected 
 streets. Continued efforts soon produced graded thorough - 
 farec, possessing a hard and gravelly road-bed. Capital 
 became rapidly invested in the erection of buildings, and 
 Atlantic City now presents to the visitor, all the attributes 
 of a thriving well-appointed " city by the sea."" 
 
 46 
 
47 
 
 Approaching Atlantic City by railroad, we enter upon 
 the salt meadows, immediately upon leaving Absecon 
 village. Here the sea-siders are first apprised of their 
 near approach to the ocean, by their involuntary inhala- 
 tion of the salt air. The effect of such an atmosphere 
 upon the system, is both exhilarating and stimulating, 
 besides being gratefully refreshing, not only to the in- 
 valid, but to the robust in health. Passing rapidly over 
 the meadows, a distance of seven miles, we find ourselves 
 in Atlantic Avenue, the principal street of the city, and 
 upon either side of which are erected the principal 
 hotels, boarding houses, private cottages, stores, churches 
 and market houses. The passenger cars of the railway 
 pass slowly up this broad roadway, on which they stop 
 opposite each hotel sufficient time to allow passengers to 
 alight. By a judicious system of regulating the stop- 
 pages, each hotel is placed upon the same footing as its 
 neighbors, so that passengers are alternately delivered at 
 the lower and upper end of the city. 
 
 ,From any position of the island, the view of the sea 
 is unobstructed, and as Atlantic City faces the south, 
 from which come the prevailing summer winds, there is 
 invariably a direct sea breeze during midsummer, and the 
 air is so remarkably dry and pleasant, that invalids who 
 
48 
 
 are unable to remain at other watering places on account 
 of the dampness of the atmosphere, derive great benefits 
 from the clear pure air, for which Atlantic City has 
 become proverbial. 
 
 The growth of the sea-girt city has been extraordinary. 
 The population during June, July and August, is about 
 thirty-five to forty thousand people. There are three 
 churches — a Methodist, a Roman Catholic and a Presby- 
 terian, two Aldermen, a City Clerk, a Mayor, and all 
 other concomitants of civic importance. 
 
 Thus, enterprise, the best of conservatives, because the 
 best leveller of old abuses, and the best conservator of 
 existing benefits, has levelled the sand hills, dried the 
 swamps, laid out the town, and upon the land has built a 
 city, the summer population of which does not fall far 
 short of forty thousand souls — and all this has been done 
 in the short space of sixteen years. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Oij Ijjglttltou^^c and tin M\^h. 
 
 The amphibious banditti, that formerly fattened upon 
 the misfortunes of their fellow beings, who suffered the 
 hardships of the wrecks, were familiarly recognized by 
 more civilized people as " Barnegat pirates." These con- 
 sisted of desperate characters, who in a great measure 
 resembled that small class of " dog-gun-and-nigger poor 
 whites," of the South, who subsisted before the war by 
 shooting and fishing. When wrecks were scarce, and 
 false beacons failed in the performance of their required 
 duty, these diabolical specimens of the genus liomo^ lived 
 the lives of wandering "bummers," peripateticating be- 
 tween Absecon village and the beach, and occasionally 
 oystering and fishing, to preserve the connecting link 
 between the soul and body. They were a set of wretches 
 
 49 
 
50 
 
 wlio cared for nothing animate or inanimate, save tlieir 
 own individual selves. Whenever the news of a wreck 
 reached these people, they, eager for the " main chance," 
 rushed in crowds to the beach. To this day, the visitor 
 at Atlantic will hear of strange, wild incidents, that oc- 
 curred in years gone by upon this sandy waste. The old 
 stagers, now hanging upon the verge of life, and ready at 
 any moment for their final leap into the unknown yonder, 
 will relate around the evening fires, how the wild, half 
 savage wrecker held sway of all around him, save the 
 waves from which he drew his livelihood — how, crushed 
 and sinking beneath the surf, the wild cry of the death 
 struggle from the doomed wreck, was heard to mingle 
 with the hoarse roar of oaths; how the demoniac yell of 
 fiendish delight emanated from the lungs of the despica- 
 ble wreckers, while seizing and discussing their ill-gotten 
 spoils. Many of the accounts of wrecks, that have been 
 preserved in the manuscript from which we gleaned the 
 story of Leonarda and the Ocean Grirl, are full of both 
 romantic incident and absorbing interest, and although 
 they must lose much of their pith and point, owing to the 
 horribly inacurate and illegible manner in which the man- 
 uscript record has been kept, yet we have determined to 
 buckle to the work of solving the Atlantine inscriptions, 
 and of our success the reader alone can be the judge. 
 
51 
 
 The wrecks of which Absecon beach has been the 
 jwint d'appui, are very numerous, and the heartrending 
 circumstances attending them are very many. Though 
 tragedy, sadness and laceration are the principal themes 
 upon which we must necessarily touch when intent upon 
 such a business, yet we are assured that the story of 
 suffering cannot be without interest, but that on the con- 
 trary, it can only tend to soften the feelings and render 
 the emotions subservient to the purposes of the Creator. 
 
 Since the completion and improvement of the light- 
 house, there have been but few wrecks ; and little loss of 
 life has taken place thereby. In 1830, the " Gherge's 
 KJian" was totally destroyed off the beach j the majority of 
 the passengers were saved, among whom was a little child of 
 nine years of age, that was afterwards restored to joyous 
 parents who lived far out in the wilds of the then almost 
 unexplored west. Captain Busk, however, who com- 
 manded the vessel, committed a determined suicide. 
 When the wreck-boats had been placed safely within his 
 grasp, he spurned the offerings of Providence, and with fixed 
 teeth and a face indicative of strong mental agony, he 
 plunged into the water and sank to rise no more alive. It 
 has ever since been supposed that he lacked the moral 
 cpurage to face the underwriters. A few years after this, 
 
52 
 
 the John Willcts was a total wreck upon the coast. One 
 man floated ashore who had been frozen to death ; and 
 Mr. Robinson, who has since taught school in Absecon 
 village, was another survivor of the ill-fated barque. 
 
 In 1845, Captain Faircloyke's Rainhoio was wrecked, 
 but no person at Atlantic City could give us any details 
 of the attending circumstance, which we know were un- 
 pleasant enough. 
 
 The next year a most harrowing aflfair was occasioned 
 in a very simple manner. A small schooner had been 
 wrecked, and when the attention of the beach people had 
 been called to the perilous condition of those aboard, the 
 wreck-boat was duly despatched to render what assistance 
 soever was possible. The tide had gone out, so that 
 there was no risk in attempting to land. As the wreck- 
 boat approached the scene of the disaster, the cries for 
 help were more and more distressing. The confusion 
 became multiplied to such an extent, that although the 
 captain and his few sailors and passengers were soon 
 safely transferred, yet in the midst of the excitement, the 
 skipper's wife had fallen beneath the waves. As the fog 
 was exceedingly dense, the accident was not observed, 
 until the ghastly and bleeding body rose to the surface. 
 Ilcr throat was cut by her own watch chain — an anom- 
 
53 
 
 alous appendage upon the wife of a schooner captain, 
 but then she came from a land where the softer sex, no 
 matter how poor they may be, always manage to take the 
 jeweler in the round of " shopping." The skipper was 
 ever after a disappointed man. Before, he had been lively 
 and jolly, but since the loss of his New England consort, 
 "he could laugh nevermore." He refused to again take 
 command of a ship. He gathered all his earnings to- 
 gether and emigrated to the west His friends say he is 
 crazy, and indeed they are not without grounds for their 
 supposition; for, in a quiet village, of a quiet county, in 
 one of the great States of the mighty west, and in front 
 of a hotel, you will see a man apparently about fifty- 
 six years of age seated beside a mastiff. The dog always 
 shows more intelligence than his master, who rarely 
 speaks to any person. Though the ex-captain cannot be 
 called a very old man, he is very garrulous, but has "fits 
 of lucidity " at times. It was in one of these fits that we 
 were so lucky as to encounter him. We immediately 
 compared his narrative with that of the old woman, and 
 the two were so substantially the same, that we preferred 
 to relate that of the garrulous "fifty-sixer;" and in his 
 own words, so that if it be uninteresting, the reader will 
 please spend his vindictive force upon the " old bore" and 
 
54 
 
 not upon the writer. In that scat, in front of the occi- 
 dental hotel aforesaid, Captain Slowe, (for that is his 
 name,) passes away each day, except at such times as 
 once in three months he goes on foot a distance of one 
 mile, to collect a little interest upon the money he has 
 lent on mortgage. His usual occupation while thus 
 seated, is reading over and over about a dozen different 
 times, the JVcio York Ledger, the Home Weekli/, of Phila- 
 delphia, and the Lacrosse Democrat. The old "buflfer" 
 peruses advertisements, prospectus, and in fact the entire 
 papers. During his reading, if closely observed, he will 
 be seen at times to look abstractedly from his newspaper, 
 stare at the clouds and exclaim in frantic transport : 
 " Maria ! Maria ! Watch chain, Atlantic City, jVnc Yoric 
 Ledger, help I 3Irs. Southworth, help ! " If you watch 
 him during these performances, it will be found that his 
 wandering ruminations are perpetrated about every three- 
 quarters of an hour ; and that once a year, on a certain 
 day at the hour of noon, the mastiff joins in and helps the 
 master, by a terrific howl. Reader ! strange as it may ap- 
 pear, that howl is always given on the anniversary of the 
 cutting of the throat of the skipper's wife, and not only 
 upon the anniversary, but at the very same hour in which 
 tlie last sight of his dead spouse was allowed the poor 
 
55 
 
 harmless lunatic captain. This truly is stranger than 
 fiction.* 
 
 It is not forgetfulness that has kept us thus fiir from in- 
 troducing the reader to the scene of a wreck, the slightest 
 detail of which cannot but call up our tenderest pity. It 
 was on a cold bleak morning in the severe spring of 1854, 
 that the inhabitants of Atlantic City might behold a stout 
 but disabled barque struggling with the waves, the quick- 
 sands and the furious winds off Long Beach, like some 
 brave but weary traveler, who, despite decision and vigor, 
 falls prostrate to the influence of hardship and foul 
 weather. 'Twas but a phase of life. There is no place 
 or person — nothing in life, where we do not discover the 
 quicksands of human misery. We look with pity to-day 
 on the fate that may be ours to-morrow. The Potohatfan, 
 the barque that now struggles before us, but yesterday 
 buffeted the breakers and rode triumphant, regardless of 
 the trident, now kneels imploringly to the power, which 
 but some hours ago she scorned. 
 
 She belongs to Baltimore, and is bound from Havre 
 with a cargo of merchandise, and three hundred and 
 eleven souls, the fated bulk of whom are emigrants. They 
 have left their all behind them, save the small solid solace 
 
 *Since writing the above, we regret to learn tluit tlie muster and mastiff 
 both died npou the same day, one year ago. 
 
5G 
 
 needful to start new life in the New World. They have 
 left the old and the very young at home. Some, too, 
 have left their little ones behind them in the ancient 
 world, and some brave hearted fellows have left their 
 wives, in the determination to carve golden happiness from 
 the mines of the widely puffed California. They start 
 out with high hopes of bright and happy days. In their 
 fond fancies, the golden gates of futurity open, under the 
 pressure of gilded rocks, resplendent for their reception. 
 The ftiir weather and unmackereled skies, feed their em- 
 bryotic appetites with the pleasures that are to be in the 
 " good time coming." For several days they enjoy reve- 
 ries of such delectable opiatism. But. in the midst of 
 enjoyment we are in sorrow, and the bright sunshine of 
 to-day's pleasure is changed to the murky misery of the 
 morrow. When the Powhattan is eighteen days upon 
 old Neptune's main, the captain's usual suavity of manner 
 has forsaken him, he wears a firm, determined aspect, the 
 signs of an approaching storm arc visible in the heavens, 
 ere long the elements are aroused, and a terrible 
 gale is blowing from the northeast. The barque is 
 driven ashore off Long Beach. The wreckers are for a 
 moment in high glee, in the hope that the sorrows of the 
 Powhattan may be their own enjoyment. A snow shower 
 
57 
 
 comes on, the ship is tossed from stem to stern, the cries 
 of the passengers are heard upon the shore, but it is 
 death to man the wreck-boat. A few resolute spirits, 
 whose judgment is put in abeyance to their feelings, as- 
 sume the arduous task, and make their way toward the 
 doomed vessel. The rest of the narrative we give in the 
 words of the captain of the wreck-boat : 
 
 " When we arrived within about 200 yards of her, the 
 wind had veered, and the sea ran so high that we were 
 unable to pull the boat any further, notwithstanding all 
 our exertions. This was about six o'clock in the evening, 
 and the vessel had first been visible on shore at about 
 noon on the same day. Finding further progress impossible, 
 and fearing for the boat's life, we let go one anchor and 
 showed a light, which was joyfully answered; this we 
 repeated three times. "VVe afterwards beheld the crew 
 assembled on the quarter-deck, when they uttered a 
 dreadful shout for assistance and fired two muskets. Soon 
 afterwards they were seen apparently in great consterna- 
 tion, hurrying about the decks. Presently they were 
 seen to set fire to a tur cask. This made an excellent 
 signal, and had the movement been made at first, we 
 should have been able to render them assistance. As it 
 was, we made the best signal we could for them to lower 
 
58 
 
 tlieir boat and make for us, but as they did not attempt 
 it, we bave reason to believe that their boats bad been 
 carried away. The light kept burning till about eleven 
 o'clock, when the sea broke so heavily over them that it 
 disappeared. Next came on a terrific snow shower. The 
 white flakes thickened every instant ; more and more the 
 wind whistled, as if in piteous mockery of the sufferers ; 
 the sea rolled furiously and lashed the fated ship." The 
 cries from the Pou-hattan at this time were terrible, and 
 all the attending horrors — the darkness of the night, only 
 relieved by the falling snow, the curses of the wreckers 
 on shore, and the fearful shouts of distress from the 
 barque, would have afforded another " blind old poet" an 
 excellent theme for immortalizing Atlantic City in a new 
 production upon the horrors of the polnphloisboio tJialasses. 
 The captain's narrative proceeds: "At about twelve, 
 midnight, the barque capsized, and we had the distressing 
 spectacle of the unfortunate emigrants and crew perishing, 
 without being able to render them any assistance. Their 
 last cries were beyond description. In a few moments 
 she broke up, and we were surrounded with wreck, but 
 could not find any of the crew. From a chest picked up, 
 she appears to have been the Poichattan, of Baltimore, 
 bound from Havre, with a cargo of merchandise, and 
 conveying three hundred aud eleven passengers." 
 
59 
 
 To give a detailed account of all tlie wrecks tliat have 
 occurred upon Absecon and Brigantine beaclies, would 
 be impossible witbin our present space, neither would i*" 
 comport with the object of the book A list of the most 
 important ones must suffice the reader. 
 
 The Santiago dl Cuba ran ashore on Long Beach, in 
 the fall of 1867. Seven persons were drowned, including 
 three women, two sailors, a girl, ten years of age, and her 
 mother. The child's body was washed ashore some days 
 after the catastrophe. The corpse was kept until such 
 time as a zinc coffin could be procured, and communica- 
 tion made with deceased's relatives, who at that time lived 
 in Delphi, Illinois. When the grandfather of the child, 
 an old man about seventy-five years of age, heard of the 
 fate of his daughter and grand-daughter, he became 
 hopelessly insane, and died six weeks after the sad news 
 reached him. A Welshman rescued from the ship, re- 
 turned to his own country, and an Irish girl that had ac- 
 cumulated a small fortune in California, was among the 
 misfortunate seven on the present occasion. The other 
 female, who was consigned to a watery grave, was a 
 southern lady, that had been married but a few weeks. 
 The people of the beach report that her husband became 
 unmanned. He mourned and moaned for his wife, and 
 
60 
 
 like Rachel sorrowing for her little ones, "refused to be 
 comforted" because "his wife was not." About three 
 months afterwards, a Michigan woman, whose husband 
 had been missing for some time, appeared at Atlantic 
 City, and with the most perfect nonchalance, made 
 inquiry concerning the sailors that had been lost. The 
 body of one had been washed ashore, and a descrip- 
 tion was given her, so far as such a thing was practi- 
 cable. She concluded that the description answered com- 
 pletely to her "long lost" husband, and proceeded to 
 calculate how much he should have drawn in the way of 
 pay since he left her, provided he had joined the ship 
 about the time their connubial bliss proceeded upon a 
 journey in an elevated direction through a spout. She 
 also conjectured upon the propriety of remarrying. She 
 did so. She succeeded in obtaining from the vessel's 
 owners the back pay due her liege lord — retired to Michi- 
 gan, and took to herself a husband. These proceedings 
 showed her strong-mindedness, on account of the " des- 
 patch " with which they were taken, and clearly demon- 
 strated the right of women to the ballot. But the nicest 
 schemes of juice and men arc often doomed to a cruel 
 counteraction, and how consciously if not conscientiously 
 must she have stood confounded, when, in about six weeks, 
 
61 
 
 her dead determinor disgusted lier with his dchnf from the 
 section or sphere of the spirits. She did not sing " Home, 
 sweet Home," but she cursed that individual soundly for 
 the hallucination he had practised, to restore her rejected 
 relative. She has changed her religion from Spiritualism 
 to Swedebosity, (a modified form of the same complaint,) 
 and though she clings to husband No. 2, she declares 
 that were it not for an embryotic connecting link, she 
 would cut both husbands, and retire to the spirit world, 
 where she might find her congenial alter ego. 
 
 Another wreck, that of the PoUy Whimple, took 
 place sometime prior to the last mentioned. A stupid 
 attempt was made to land before the tide went out. The 
 result of this fool-hardy enterprise, was, that a boatful of 
 women was swamped, and that several men lost their lives 
 in fruitless attempts to rescue the women. A rich lady 
 who had about one thousand dollars' worth of rings upon 
 her fingers, would have been drowned, but for the heroic 
 conduct of a waterman, who risked his own life to save 
 hers. The same brave fellow was drowned in an attempt 
 to save another woman's life. The husband of the 
 wealthily ringed woman had not even thanked the sailor 
 for bringing him his wife, and now that he was drowned, 
 the Dives aforesaid, never so much as enquired where the 
 
G2 
 
 sailor's family resided, or whether they had been left in 
 destitute circumstances. 
 
 The schooner General Scott, was wrecked off Long 
 Beach in 1840. The captain was the only person saved, 
 and he floated ashore upon a feather bed, upon which he 
 must have had a roundabout journey of more than 
 fifteen miles. 
 
 On January 13th, 185G, the Charles Colgate, of New 
 York, ran ashore, and became a total wrjeck. The crew, 
 however, were saved by the life-boat. 
 
 On the 25th of February, 1858, the Flying Dutchman 
 went to pieces at nearly the same spot, where the Colgate 
 broke. No lives were lost. 
 
 On the 21st of November, 1851, the barqua Baldin, of 
 Southport, bound for New York, with a cargo of cotton 
 and merchandise, ran ashore, with her mast cut away; 
 and water-logged. 
 
 The following list of arrivals at the Jersey beaches, 
 from 1817 to 185G, are as correct a statement as can be 
 made up from the only document before us; and it is 
 almost impossible to be read. Some of these vessels were 
 total wrecks, others got safely ofi", but as it is not stated in 
 every case, we give the reader all the information we have 
 been able to glean ourselves. 
 
63 
 
 September 29tli, 1847, the brig Patapsco^ laden with 
 molasses, ran ashore on Long Beach, 
 
 September 30th, Ann^ o^ New Orleans, laden with coal, 
 ran ashore on Brigantine Beach. 
 
 On the 16th of December, 1847, the schooner Nile, 
 ran ashore on Brigantine Beach. She was laden with 
 mahogany. Mss. deficient, consequently it is impossible 
 to relate the results. 
 
 On the same day, schooner Mississippi, of Hanrich, took 
 shelter in the inlet. She was laden with corn, peas and 
 beans. Mss. deficient. Here there is a long gap in the 
 old lady's account, and the next entry we find, is that of 
 the British schooner Ida, Captain Roberts, bound whether 
 for St. John's, N. F., or St. John's, N. B., is impossible to 
 determine. This entry is dated January 2d, 1849. Mss. 
 deficient. On the 25th January, 1849, ran ashore, the 
 barque Mari/ Ellen, of New York. Mss. deficient. On 
 St. Patrick's day, 1849, the barque Chester, of New 
 Orleans, Captain Robinson, ran ashore. Mss. deficient. 
 November 25th, 1849, ran ashore, the schooner Walter 
 A. Merchant, of Washington, N. C. Laden with naval 
 stores and shingles. Mss. deficient. December 25th, 
 schooner Brook Haven, of Newport, from Norfolk, Va., 
 bound to Fall Eiver, Mass., ran ashore. Mss. defi- 
 cient. 
 
G4 
 
 IN 1850. 
 
 January 4th, ran ashore, the schooner Independence^ of 
 Washington, N. C. Laden with naval stores. Got off 
 the next morning. May 5th, schooner James A. Sanders, 
 of Hampton, Va., Captain Fennis. Laden with oysters, 
 bound for Staten Island. Mss. deficient. May Gth, brig 
 Four Brothers, of Philadelphia, ran ashore, with deck 
 stove in. Load lessened and she got off. May 18th, 
 schooner Vermillion, of N. Y. Laden with coal. Got 
 off next night. 
 
 Here are the names of several vessels, that cannot be 
 read with any degree of certainty, on account of the 
 almost illegible manner in which the record has been 
 kept. 
 
 December 9th, brig ReppUer, of Boston. Coal; bound 
 for New York. Mss. deficient. 
 
 IN 1851. 
 
 On January 25th, a New York barque, name unde- 
 cipherable, ran ashore. Mss. deficient. February, (no 
 day of the month given,) sloop Elizabeth Ann, of Rock- 
 away. Mss. deficient. February 22d, barque Kirkwood, 
 Baltimore; Captain Martin. Ashore on Brigantine; from 
 Rio. Laden with coffee. Mss. deficient. April Gth, 
 Swedish barque Emili/, ashore about six miles below 
 
65 
 
 Absecon bar. Bound for New York. Mss. deficient. 
 August 18th, schooner Sioux, (Mss. Sio,) of Great Egg 
 Harbor. Laden with coal. Mss. deficient. September 
 11th, Romaline, on south side of Absecon inlet. Mss. de- 
 ficient. October 4th, sloop Patriarch, of Long Island. 
 Mss. deficient. October 27th, brig Edward Prexel, of 
 Boston, ashore. Mss. deficient. 
 
 November 21st, brig Baldin, of Southport, (vide sup.') 
 November 16th, barque Brasalcro, from Cadiz, (^Shagirs 
 in Mss.) Got off next morning. 
 
 IN 1832. 
 
 January 29th, brig Wm. Rogers, of Boston, from Brazil, 
 bound for Boston. Ashore on Absecon bar, north side. 
 Got off same day through the exertions of Ryan Adams. 
 November IGth, schooner 3Iarshall, Mss. deficient. No- 
 vember 25th, barque Mataforda, of New York, in the 
 inlet. Mss. deficient. December 8th, schooner Rainhoio. 
 Total wreck. All lives saved but seven, (vide sup.') 
 December 23d, schooner Ellen Matilda, of Calais. Bound 
 to Philadelphia ; ran ashore about four o'clock in the 
 morning; got off same night through the exertions of 
 Byan Adams. 
 
 The manuscript has entries of twelve vessels during 
 1853, but it is impossible to make out whether any of 
 
66 
 
 them were wrecked or got oiF to sea. Also entries of 
 seven vessels in 1854, among which is that of the 
 Poichaftan, (i^lde sup.) Sometime after July, 1855, the 
 Seaman's Friend capsized off the beach, and all on board 
 perished before assistance could be rendered them from 
 the shore. The manuscript has nine entries in 1855. 
 The only entry in 1856, is that of the New York schooner 
 Charles Colr/ate, which was a complete wreck, but the 
 crew were saved by the life-boat. We regret, that owing 
 to the irregular manner in which the records have been 
 kept at the beach, we are not able to present a more com- 
 plete list of the marine disasters that have taken place at 
 Atlantic City. The first note-book that contained the 
 information has been lost, and the manuscript before us 
 is so utterly deficient in details, that we have preferred 
 rather to present certainties, than attempt the elucidation 
 of only positive transpirations. 
 
 The great number of wrecks that were continually oc- 
 curring upon the beach, caused Dr. Pitney to turn his at- 
 tention to the absolute necessity that existed for the erec- 
 tion of a proper lighthouse at Atlantic City. Again he 
 had to fight prejudice, and especially the prejudice against 
 improvements, that at that time reigned supreme among 
 the grannies of the Navy Department. 
 
67 
 
 Away back between the years 1834 and 1840, the pro- 
 posal was first agitated. After a great waste of trouble 
 and money, a Congressional appropriation of $5000 was at 
 last voted, upon the proviso, that a satisfactory report 
 should first be made by a competent official of the Navy 
 Department. Commodore La Valette was commissioned to 
 make the aforesaid report. He visited the beach, exam- 
 ined the coast, and requested a letter from Dr. Pitney on 
 the subject. In this letter, Dr. P. explained his oicii 
 original notion of prismatic lights, for which the French 
 optician, Fresnel, obtained a patent ten years afterwards. 
 Notwithstanding the exertions of Dr. Pitney, the Com- 
 modore made an unfavorable report, and the lighthouse 
 project slept for several years. 
 
 The Doctor, however, was far from being disheartened 
 by his first failure, and the same pluck that characterized 
 his railroad and land schemes, was again called into play. 
 In 1853, after the railroad had been surveyed, and his 
 hands were in a manner full, he started the lighthouse 
 question again. With his own hands he circulated peti- 
 tions for signature, and besides wrote to congressmen and 
 published articles in the newspapers, advocating the 
 project. The result of these labors was the granting of 
 an appropriation of $35,000 for a lighthouse, and an ad- 
 
68 
 
 ditiopal one of $5,000 for a buoy. Tlius, Atlantic lias 
 to-day one of the best lighthouses in the country — which, 
 with the recent improvements, cost upwards of fifty 
 thousand dollars in the aggregate. The buoy, however, 
 has disappeared. The contract for this portion of the 
 work was let out to an unprincipled person, who purchased 
 an old flat-bottomed boat, for the purpose of fulfilling his 
 obligations. One stormy night, Proteus took a fancy to 
 this combination of antiquated " wooden walls," and 
 carried it ofi" to the bottom of the sea, where it now 
 quietly remains. 
 
 The inlet at Atlantic City has always been a favorite 
 shelter for vessels drawing less than twelve feet of water. 
 The " oldest inhabitant" remembers that one day in the 
 year 1835, one hundred and thirty-six crafts of this de- 
 scription, and again upon St. Patrick's day, 1840, sixty 
 vessels availed themselves of this privilege. The saod 
 bar is at present the only obstacle that lies in the way of 
 Atlantic City becoming a port of entry ; but Mr. Gr. W. N. 
 Custis, the respected Superintendent of the Camden and 
 Atlantic Kailway, informed the writer, that the erection of 
 a suitable break-water would in a great measure obviate 
 this difficulty. 
 
 The surf has for some years been gradually eating 
 
69 
 
 away the land in front of the lighthouse, and without the 
 speedy erection of the necessary break-water, or a deposit 
 of stones sufficient to counteract the influences of the sea, 
 the lighthouse will in a short time stand in imminent 
 danger of destruction. The people of Atlantic, foresee- 
 ing this, have united in application to Congress, respect- 
 fully soliciting the necessary aid for the carrying out of 
 such works as shall effectually protect the most exposed 
 portion of the island. The beach in one part is so far 
 gone, that the grounds surrounding the lighthouse, are 
 wholly submerged whenever the wind blows with any 
 violence from the east or northeast, and during its contin- 
 uance, the family of the lighthouse keeper are completely 
 imprisoned, and he and his assistants are compelled to 
 wade through water while discharging their duties. 
 Private property also suffers severely when these inunda- 
 tions take place. It is to remedy these evils that 
 Congress has been petitioned. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 |hc |ifit |t?cl||-|H |opog^.pI^lr, H 
 
 The resident population of Atlantic City is about fire 
 liuudred. These people, like the inhabitants of Baden- 
 Baden and all watering places, generally la^ «J^'in the 
 winter, and reap the harvest in the summer. The princi- 
 pal difference between the summers at Atlantic City and 
 those at Baden-Baden, is, that at the former place, the 
 time-killers and pleasure-seekers have not as yet succeeded 
 in introducing that concomitant of European watering 
 place civilization, known as the fashionable gaming table. 
 In other respects, Atlantic City is, if possible, the more 
 entertaining of the two. 
 
 It contains a MciJ/or : The present incumbent of this 
 office is the urbane and gentlemanly ]Mr. David W. 
 Belisle. 
 
 70 
 
71 
 
 The other civic worthies are : 
 
 C WILLIAM S. CARTER. 
 Aldermen: < City Recorder: 
 
 I JACOB MIDDLETON. 
 
 SILAS R. MORSE. ) f JOSEPH A. BARSTOW. 
 
 ROBERT T. EVARD, f Councllmen : ^ JOSEPH H. BARTON. 
 CHALK. S. LEEDS, i i JOSEPH SHINNER. 
 
 City Treasurer: JONAS HIGBEE. 
 City Clerk: EDWARD S. REED. 
 
 To the last named gentleman our thanks are particu- 
 larly due for much valuable local information. 
 
 The City that, but fourteen years ago, had only one 
 house of public entertainment, now boasts its hundred 
 hotels and boarding houses, its carriages at city rates, its 
 private villas, its thriving railroad, and its by no means 
 insignificant commerce. 
 
 The principal hotels are : 
 
 SURF HOUSE. I CONGRESS HALL. 
 
 UNITED STATES HOTEL. | MANSION HOUSE. 
 
 Comfort, tranquility and seaside elegance, can be found 
 in abundance at the Surf. The combination of pleasure, 
 comfort, and the luxury of a shady park, awaits the guest 
 of the "United States;" while at Congress Hall, 
 gaiety, hops, jolly life and all the sweets of good digestion 
 wait upon the visitor. Those, who at Atlantic City seek 
 
'2 
 
 the real pleasure to be derived from nightly hops, card 
 parties, and social amusements, usually patronize the 
 whole-souled, whole-hearted Mr. Henckle, who, during 
 the past season, has improved Congress Hall, at an 
 expense of several thousand dollars. The Surf, too, 
 holds out all the inducements of a first-class hotel, as 
 well as the happiness of a home. 
 The other hotels of importance are : 
 
 NEPTUNE HOUSE. 
 LIGHT HOUSE COTTAGE. 
 ALHAMBRA. 
 WHITE HOUSE. 
 SEA SIDE HOUSE. 
 
 CLARENDON HOUSE. 
 ASHLAND HOUSE. 
 GLENN'S INLET HOUSE. 
 KENTUCKY HOUSE. 
 CHESTER CO. HOUSE. 
 
 THE YELLOW COTTAGE. 
 
 Persons who desire comfort with small expense, can be 
 well entertained at any of the following establishments : 
 
 BEDLOE'S HOTEL. 
 PENNA, COTTAGE. 
 COTTAGE RETREAT 
 MACY HOUSE. 
 REED HOUSE. 
 ARCH ST. HOUSE. 
 CONSTITUTION HOUSE. 
 
 WEST PHILADA. HOUSE. 
 BRADLEY HOUSE. 
 SHERMAN HOUSE. 
 EXCURSION HOUSE. 
 GROVE COTTAGE. 
 COLUMBIA HOUSE. 
 SAND HOUSE. 
 
 ATLANTIC HOUSE. 
 Besides these we have designated by name, there are 
 about twenty-five smaller houses of public entertainment. 
 
" 73 
 
 including saloons, also about thirty or forty cottage board- 
 ing houses. The City possesses a commodious school 
 house, which is a more than ordinary country structure, 
 and contains five departments of instruction. There are 
 upwards of two hundred children upon the roll, and the 
 average attendance is about one hundred and ten. The 
 City raises three thousand dollars per annum for educa- 
 tional purposes. Mr. E. S. Keed, the City Clerk, and 
 the druggist of the place, has been the superintendent 
 of the school for the past seven years. The churches, as 
 we have previously stated, are three in number. The 
 Presbyterian and Catholic are of a Mlssionarrj character, 
 service only being conducted during the summer months. 
 The Methodist, however, manages to keep open " all the 
 year round." 
 
 The broad avenues that are called for oceans, run 
 about half-way between northeast and east, and between 
 southwest and west, while the cross streets, which have 
 been called after states, run 22 J degrees west of north, 
 and east of south. Kunning almost parallel with the sea, 
 are Pacific, Atlantic (the principal street,) Arctic, Baltic, 
 Mediterranean and Adriatic avenues. The other streets, 
 twenty-nine in number, are named after the states, in 
 geographical order, beginning at Maine. 
 4 
 
The City grows every year, and commerce is to a cer- 
 tain extent making its inroads upon the resident sleepers. 
 A very large business is done in shipping the salt hay of 
 the meadows to New York city, where it is employed for 
 purposes of paper making and horse feed. 
 
 Twelve miles from Atlantic City, is the celebrated Mul- 
 lier river, between which and New York, a propeller 
 makes regular trips, carrying glass, wool and other 
 articles of New Jersey manufacture. New railroad facil- 
 ities are at present on the tapis. A charter has been 
 obtained for the building of a railroad between Absecon 
 Inlet and Great Egg Harbor Inlet. This work, when 
 finished, will run through the centre of the Island, and 
 will confer additional benefits upon Atlantic City. A 
 turnpike, too, is now building between Atlantic City and 
 Pleasantville, by which, in a short time, there will be a 
 complete road between Philadelphia and the beach. 
 
 The principal amusement of Atlantic City, is of course, 
 bathing. This will not be much information for the 
 reader, but our object being to make a guide as well as a 
 history, it must not be objected to that wc have introduced 
 matters of such common concern. 
 
 The beach is lined during the season with temporary 
 bathing structures, but such is the force and inland reach 
 
75 
 
 of the tide-swell during the winter, that it becomes im- 
 perative to remove them beyond high water mark; and 
 a few weeks before the summer season opens, the beach 
 presents an animated scene of busy laborers, who are en- 
 gaged in digging out from the accumulated sand drifts, 
 the debris and ruins of scattered bath-houses. The 
 winter of 1866-67 was unusually severe, and the swell of 
 the tide extended nearly to Atlantic avenue, a distance of 
 four hundred yards from the beach. 
 
 All along the beach of the Inlet there is splendid fish- 
 ing, at which amusement, many gentlemen find more 
 pleasure than in playing with the, breakers. At low 
 water, there is a splendid drive for ten miles along the 
 surf, and carriages are always easily obtained at reason- 
 able rates. 
 
 A good view can always be obtained from the lighthouse, 
 but visitors desirous of observing a fine expanse of sea- 
 coast, should visit Dr. Pitney, at Absecon. From the cu- 
 pola of the Doctor's residence, there is visible on a clear 
 day. upwards of thirty-five miles of coast. 
 
 The two beaches, i. e. Absecon and Brigantine, are 
 about equal in extent, each being about ten miles in 
 length. On Brigantine beach, about four miles from 
 Atlantic City, there occurred five years ago, a fearful 
 
7r. 
 
 trageJy. This is the only cold-blooded murder that has 
 marred the simple quietude of the place. Plow many 
 may be committed in the future it is impossible to tell, 
 but let us hope that this Turner tragedy may be the first 
 and last. 
 
 Turner was an oysterman. One Grandy followed the 
 same business. The former attended to his occupation, 
 and was successful. He made the rocks with a degree of 
 celerity that caused the jealous soul of Gandy, who 
 worked hard but raised no " stamps," to swell, until it 
 reached the dimensions of the spiritual portion of the 
 celebrated Mr. Gloster's construction. The green-eyed 
 monster now transmogrified the quiet going Gandy into a 
 combination of Dr. Webster, Dick the three, and Lucre- 
 tie Borgia's henchman. With his soul thus fortified, he 
 was prepared for a final dash to retrieve his fortune, or to 
 use a new quotation " perish in the attempt." 
 
 Dick aforesaid, was however, a respectable life-taker, 
 compared with the miserable hero of this bloody, brigand- 
 ish business on Brigantine Beach. Richard was a polite 
 and elegant murderer. He could send men to take 
 pleasant and comfortable lodgings in the tower, that 
 William the Norman originated in the shape of a fortress. 
 When Dick's victims were enjoying the luxuries and 
 
77 
 
 pleasures of secluded retirement in the aforesaid place, 
 Kichard used to employ common cases to do the finishing 
 part of murderous manufacture. Even the tool Tyrrel, 
 was not such a low individual as Mr. Gandy. Then 
 again, Dr. Webster did the business in a scientific and 
 professional manner, by the use of, in the first place, the 
 Lord knows what, and in the second place, a laboratory 
 furnace. This was simply the reduction of man to his 
 natural elements, and a striking scientific proof of the in- 
 destructibility, if not of matter, certainly of teeth. Even 
 the janitor, to whom Doctor W. gave a turkey, in com- 
 memoration of his exploit, was a gentleman compared to 
 Mr. Gandy. Lucretia Borgia was a fine woman in many 
 respects, and though her poisoner was a scamp, the said 
 Mr. Gandy was a good deal scamper. 
 
 Townsend, the brave and heroic highway robber, who, 
 ten years ago, scared the simple-minded Scotchmen of 
 Upper Canada from Toronto to Sandwich, was respected 
 in his generation, for he only embarked in the killing 
 business, when self defence necessitated his "observation 
 of the case in those lamps." All these combined, would 
 not make such a mean miscreant as Brigantine Gandy. 
 But we have been hitherto enlarging on the subject with- 
 out hitting it, and this last is an important matter, for if 
 
78 
 
 you dou't hit your subject, you are no account to the 
 reader. The fault now-a-days is, that so few hit their 
 subject wliere they ought to. Members of Congress are 
 requested to take notice of this last remark, and govern 
 their peculiarly spoiled selves accordingly. Here we are 
 at last arrived at the 
 
 BRIGANTINE MURDER. 
 Turner had succeeded so well, that he had managed to 
 build himself a comfortable house upon a spot, at that 
 pnrt of the lower end of Brigantine Beach that was most 
 favorable for carrying on the business of an oysterman. 
 By dint of energy and perseverance, he had managed to 
 accumulate a small amount of money, which he hid 
 underneath the earth, below a board in the floor of his 
 neat but small habitation. Gandy, who had been unsuc- 
 cessful in the business of an oysterman, had been taken 
 into the confidence of Turner. Now, Gandy was an 
 older man than Turner, and could not bear that the more 
 enero-etic, but younger individual should exceed him in 
 the possession of oysterial wealth. The result of these 
 agitations produced a determination in the breast of 
 Gandy to transcend all laws, in the hope of winning re- 
 venge. Accordingly, one dark and stormy night, while 
 the wind whistled and the thunder rolled — while the 
 
79 
 
 lightning flaslied, and all the artillery of the " unending 
 heavens" burst forth in wild, malignant fury, this arch- 
 fiend fired the peaceful home of the Turner family, and 
 by the foul deed murdered two individuals he intended to 
 save. Exasperated beyond measure by being cheated of 
 his prey, he fired his remaining shot at the daughter of 
 Turner, and wounded her fearfully in the arm. The 
 wretch next performed the most sensible part of the 
 tragedy that was possible, and after having put off to sea 
 in a skiff, he wisely chose the nobile letum Catonis, and 
 by the wholesome application of a little powder and ball, 
 he succeeded in depositing his animal brains upon the 
 skiff's bottom. His last words were "Revenge is sweet." 
 He did not say that "Revenge was a delicacy of life," for 
 those words were not in his vocabulary He was, how- 
 ever, cheated of much of his revenge, for the daughter of 
 Turner, whom he left for dead, jtill lives, a "prosperous 
 lady." This is the only murder that has occurred upon 
 this beach since its original settlement by the Caucasian 
 race. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Iroiuih o( l^ountriy on J^ailroiul liniJ. 
 
 As has been already stated, the country through which 
 the line of railroad was surveyed, was for the greater part 
 an almost unbroken wilderness. That enterprise, how- 
 ever, which is always consequent upon the consummation of 
 such a work, was soon infused into the sleeping population. 
 After leaving Camden, in one of the commodious six new 
 passenger cars that have been built this season, the first 
 stopping place of the train, is the antiquated but inter- 
 esting town of Haddonfield, which has improved in a 
 great degree, though not in the same ratio as the other 
 villages upon the railroad line. 
 
 The principal reason for this, is, that Haddonfield, by 
 reason of both its shady situation and picturesque simpli- 
 city, has always presented a pleasing place for the erection 
 of private villas. Thriving city men, who desired that 
 
 80 
 
81 
 
 their families should bo brought up sufficiently far from 
 the city to enjoy the delights of life among rural demes- 
 'nes, and sufficiently near, to place comparative luxuries 
 within easy reach, were not slow to turn the advantages of 
 such a place to good account. Thus, Haddonfield, with 
 its surrounding farms, holding a population of nearly two 
 thousand souls, may be set down as a delightful adjunct to 
 the suburbs of Philadelphia. The result of Haddonfield's 
 becoming a place of residence, rather than a spot wherein 
 to transact business, was, that no manufactories, such as 
 exist in other Jersey towns, are found there. Agriculture, 
 however, and stock-raising, have been well attended to all 
 along the Haddonfield tract. Mr. Charles H. Shinn has 
 long lived a lusty rus in urhe life, and with truly Roman 
 pride, such as was possessed by the brave husbandman 
 Dictators of old, feels happier in the simple pleasures of 
 superintending his unparalleled Alderneys, than he does 
 in his counting house in Philadelphia. His son, Captain 
 Shinn, who has gained no little distinction on many a 
 well fought battle-field during the recent conflict, is one of 
 the most respected of Philadelphia's merchants, and ranks 
 among the honored local celebrities of Haddonfield. 
 
 Messrs. Collins, Kay, Walton, Willetts, Joseph 
 "Withers and Hopkins, are among the principal villa 
 
82 
 
 owners. Among the other prominent citizens, are Judge 
 Clements, a man with a whole soul, (which is a rare thing 
 in the present era of the world,) Colonel Peyton and 
 Captain Sower. The two last are "war-worn veterans." 
 We had almost forgotten the genial Dr. Burnell and the 
 witty Edwin P. Graham. When the last named gentle- 
 man pufifs his cigar and " quaffs his exhilarations," in the 
 evening, after the clouds of night dim the dome that rests 
 upon the forest trees, then will the starry stillness be 
 broken by the sparkling flashes of Edwin's jocularity. 
 
 There is a sad story in the annals of Haddonficld — we 
 did not hear it from a native of that place — indeed we 
 much doubt whether any present resident of Haddonfield 
 could give the correct version of the tragic tale. We 
 heard it from an oysterman, who probably told it to feed 
 his own vanity, and kept repeating it to feed the vanity of 
 his brother oysterists, and minister to their pleasure. 
 
 Many years ago there lived upon Absecon beach, an 
 oysterman named Thomas Durch. He accumulated a 
 small fortune, the product of close attention to his busi- 
 nesss, and gave his only son, whom he called for Thomas 
 Jefferson, an excellent primary education. The boy early 
 showed an aptitude for business, and was steadily making 
 
83 
 
 his way in lifci wlien he uadertook to make a journey to 
 New York. On his tour, as luck would have it, he was 
 obliged to remain at the hotel in Haddonfield, for a period 
 of about a fortnight. There chanced to be stopping at 
 the same hotel, a middle-aged lady with her daughter. 
 Thomas Jeiferson Durch made considerable advancement 
 towards winning the young lady's affection, during his 
 short stay. • An attachment sprang up between the young 
 people. They corresponded. Her father and mother ap- 
 proved the union, till such time as her "governor's" 
 name came to be mentioned as a probable candidate for 
 Congress in Ohio. This turned the old fellow's head so 
 completely, that he could no longer hear of the daughter 
 of a probable Congresser being married to the son of a 
 low oysterman. The would-be parliamentarian conse- 
 quently intercepted the love letters between the parties, 
 and ordered all further notions of matrimony to be dis- 
 pelled from his daughter's mind. In this plight, Miss 
 Augusta Haberdasher- left her father's house one night. 
 After a long and wearisome journey, during which she 
 required all her ingenuity to save herself from becoming a 
 victim to the " oft repeated vigilance " of the jws.se comit- 
 atus, she at last arrived at the same hotel in Haddonfield, 
 where she first met her Thomas .Jefferson, etc., etc. She 
 
8i 
 
 expected to find some letters for lier, as slio had directed 
 Thomas, that in the event of any thing happening to in- 
 terfere with their communications, he should write her at 
 this hotel, where she would be sure to come in due time. 
 She accordingly enquired for the desired missives, and 
 was handed a batch of william-duxes. She read them 
 through with the avidity usual, under such circumstances, 
 and was making up her mind to visit her intdndcd, when 
 the hoarse voice of the landlord was heard to exclaim: 
 " Miss Gussy, another letter — somebody dead, I reckon — 
 black edge !" She broke the seal with trembling hands, 
 and read : 
 
 " Theas is to infurm yer, that mi sun Tomus shot hisself last nite be- 
 coz he hadlnt got no word from yer for a long time. Theas lines were 
 
 ritt by a saier boy. his 
 
 TOMUS X DURCH. 
 Mark. 
 
 NOTIS — The Blal< Eghe Cover wuz in Tomus' box. 
 
 Augusta did not swoon, neither did she cry. She 
 however, made a pilgrimage to the beach and attempted to 
 drown herself, but finding drowning more unpleasant than 
 she anticipated, she called to a wrecker to "save her or 
 she'd perish," which he magnanimously did. She lived 
 to marry a mutton-pie man, who afterwards became a 
 United States Senator, and let us hope she lived and died 
 
85 
 
 happily in spite of tlie sad memories that haunted her 
 when her mind wandered to the sacred scenes that clus- 
 tered around Haddonfield — those scenes that must have 
 changed the glory of her heart's setting sun into a twi- 
 light of sad feelings, in the latter years of her life. — 
 This story in the above unconnected and rambling form, is 
 precisely as the above-mentioned person related it to the 
 writer. With these few remarks, we bid adieu to 
 Haddonfield. * * * . * 
 
 Sixteen and a-half miles from Camden, is the village of 
 Long-a-Coming, which fourteen years ago contained three 
 houses and a barn. The present population is upwards of 
 four hundred. 
 
 Twenty-three miles from Camden, we strike Waterford. 
 a thriving town, sustained by a glass manufactory, and 
 possessing a population of four hundred and fifty. Before 
 the building of the railway, there were not more than 
 eighty people in the settlement. 
 
 Twenty-seven miles from Camden, stands the enter- 
 prising settlement of Winslow, which is also supported by 
 factories. The population, which now amounts to seven 
 hundred and fifty, was not more than two hundred souls 
 in 1856. 
 
 Absecon village, where Dr. Pitney, the prominent 
 
86 
 
 pioneer resides, originally had but sixty inhabitants. The 
 population in 1867 was upwards of one hundred and 
 seventy-five. 
 
 Along this line was the settlement of Jackson, about 
 a mile and a-half from the railroad. The village's trans- 
 portation facilities are now supplied by. Jackson station, 
 twenty miles from Camden. Glass manufacture has been 
 for some time successfully carried on in this locality. The 
 inhabitants of Jackson settlement, originally numbered 
 three hundred and sixty-five. Near Jackson, were the 
 colonies Gibbsborough, Tansboro, Weymouth, Ironworks 
 and May's Landing. The aggregate number of people 
 who occupied these crude villages was about one thousand. 
 Besides these settlements, there was a narrow strip of land 
 on both sides of the country roads running nearly parallel 
 with, and from a quarter of a mile, to two miles distant 
 from, the railroad. Along this strip, to the distance of 
 about twenty-seven miles from Camden, there were for 
 a long time no improvements in the then temporary settle- 
 ments of wood-choppers. This portion of the country 
 was, fifteen years ago, little better than a home for deer, 
 foxes, bears, pheasants and those cunning, amiable, pretty 
 not to say delightful little insects, known under the 
 apellation of mosquitoes. The cultivation of the soil 
 
87 
 
 was utterly neglected, and attention was only given to 
 working off the wood witli which that region eminently 
 abounded. This wood business was profitable, inasmuch 
 as a speedy market was always found in New York city 
 for anything in the shape of cord-wood. 
 
 This wretched state of things no longer exists. The 
 forests have been to a great extent cleared away, and the 
 stumping machines have finished the business. New 
 settlements are continually forming, and the old ones are 
 rapidly increasing in wealth and population. New dis- 
 tricts are being brought under efficient cultivation, and the 
 original farmers are adding to, and improving their agri- 
 cultural facilities. 
 
 The Hammonton tract, upon which, at the opening of 
 the road, there were but some thirty residents, now com- 
 fortably, and in some instances affluently supports twenty- 
 five hundred permanent inhabitants. These people are 
 the occupants of farms, of from twenty to one hundred 
 acres, which are rapidly being brought to a high state of 
 husbandry, and upon which, extensive and productive 
 orchards and vineyards are always planted. The houses 
 erected by the settlers are neat and comfortable. In their 
 internal arrangements, as well as in their dealing, the 
 people evince the neatness, exactness and " cent-saving- 
 
88 
 
 ness " of tlie sturdy, stiff New England people, who 
 predominate in this part of New Jersey. Hence, from 
 having retained their original characteristics, and from 
 their present place of residence, Philadelphians have con- 
 cocted the phrase, " Jersey Yankee," to indicate one that 
 is "keener on a trade" than even the present denizens of 
 the land of pure cold water and wooden nutmegs. 
 
 This whole section of country will, in five years, do 
 honor to the name of Jersey, and will abundantly prove 
 itself worthy of being called for a channel island. It will 
 be a complete garden spot, and in addition, it will become 
 as valuable an agricultural section as any of the same ex- 
 tent in the country. Its value will be materially en- 
 hanced by the wide parallel roads, that have been laid out 
 at regular intervals. 
 
 This projected regularity pervades a section of country, 
 which extends twenty miles in length, along the line of 
 the Camden and Atlantic Kailroad. In breadth, these 
 demesnes of improvement reach Little Egg Harbor river 
 •on the north side, a distance of more than six miles, and 
 on the southwest, in some points to Great Egg Harbor 
 river. 
 
 Egg Harbor City's present condition, as well as that of 
 the Hammonton tract upon which the town is built, ex- 
 
89 
 
 liibits the great results that are always to be looked for, 
 from the judicious employment of capital, and its ener 
 getic concentration. When the first train ran over the 
 railway, on the 1st of July, 1854, there were upon this 
 entire section but five wretchedly supported families. 
 The tract now feeds a thriving population of eighteen 
 hundred. 
 
 The improvements, however, are not confined to this 
 portion of the country. The lands most ^accessible from 
 the stations of Waterford, Winslow, Da Costa and Wey- 
 mouth, are now ofiiered for sale, and are being rapidly 
 bought up. Already cultivation has been commenced 
 upon some of them, and in a few instances extensive pre- 
 parations have been made, of such a nature as shall allure 
 the settler. 
 
 When we consider that until very recently, the greater 
 part of these lands was not oflfered for sale at all — that 
 they rested under the reproach of being valueless, and 
 withal " out of the United States" — when, too, we re- 
 member the stagnation of business and the financial re- 
 vulsions that the road has withstood — when we regard all 
 this, such results are of a most extraordinary as well as of 
 a most encouraging character. Since this region of 
 country has been extensively advertised, and attention has 
 
90 
 
 been generally directed to it ; and since its value lias 
 been practically demonstrated, we confidently expect tliat 
 its rare advantages will not " go a-begging" in the future. 
 In fact, the railway people anticipate tbe settlement of 
 portions of this land by at least an addition of twelve 
 hundred inhabitants during the ensuing year. Great as 
 are these improvements, they convey a very inadequate 
 conception of what has been accomplished upon 
 the line of railroad. ' The production of all lands, 
 that run close upon the railroad, has, within five years, 
 increased in value by fifty per cent. The spirit which 
 has operated to produce these more prominent results, is 
 also evinced in the renovation and enrichment of the 
 old farms, which are within reach of the influence ex- 
 erted immediately upon the railroad line. 
 
 Atlantic City itself, requires little mention in this con- 
 nection. Its rapid improvements, and the immense 
 number of visitors who throng there during the summer 
 months, is the strongest possible evidence of its inherent 
 adaptation for the purposes for which it was founded. 
 Its land has improved in value, with a rapidity that was 
 never known anywhere before. The property for which 
 Dr. Pitney, only sixteen years ago, paid seventeen dollars 
 an acre, cannot be purchased to-day for less than that sum 
 per fotjt. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Ijol ijeaibr ||^atrkal|. 
 
 Don't start gentle reader, at the peculiar heading of this 
 chapter ! Atlantic City has its summer theatricals, for 
 indeed any other kind would be of no use. The usual 
 performances that are produced upon the actual boards in 
 other localities during the dramatic season, would not be 
 graced (graced is the word — Sampson Brass^ by any 
 sort of appropriative audiences, were they (the perfor- 
 mances, not the audiences) conducted within gas-lit halls, 
 under the stage management of hoary headed Winter. 
 The audiences would not distinguish Sir Charles Cold- 
 steam from his laquais; they would return to their re- 
 spective homes, in considerable doubt as to whether Terry 
 the Swell was Sir Wilton Downe, or vice versa. We can 
 easily imagine a crowd of Atlanticese wending its way 
 from a dramatic exhibition, with a confusion of mind 
 
 91 
 
92 
 
 very mucli resembling the condition of heaven, hell, earth 
 and chaos, as described by one of the inspired people 
 who flourished in the poetic past. Winter would be a 
 bad manager for the place. He would always be '' busted 
 up " at the end of the season, and after trying a second 
 time, he would unfortunately discover that he had been 
 fighting with the dire decrees of an Irishman's provi- 
 dence. 
 
 The Atlantic theatricals are always placed upon "im- 
 aginary boards " and for the most part, are the comic, 
 sentimental and gushing phases of positive existence. The 
 most interesting and entertaining of them are such as 
 take place 
 
 IN THE WATER. 
 
 The star bather is performing — she swims like a chick — 
 at the hop scenes she cuts a better figitre — in aqua, she 
 belongs to the 07-do 2)ancakius — she is a low comedian and 
 all laugh at her — she is middle-aged. What means the 
 black ribbon tied beneath her chin ? why is not her rich 
 hair " unfurled to the breeze? " Poor creature ! she has 
 none to furl or unfurl; visitors, however, are kept in 
 ignorance of this fact; the oi-do pancakius she don't 
 mind, for she goes to Atlantic to bathe. Noble exhibi- 
 tion of heroic womanism ! 
 
03 
 
 Noise, and her twin sister, Pleasure, are in the ascen- 
 dant — there is noise with the waves, noise in the water, 
 noise with the surge, noise with the breakers, noise with 
 the surf, noise with the bathers, noise on the shore. The 
 crowds scamper in the waves and yell continually, but as 
 each, his share of noise contributes, none are annoyed. 
 Ancient Mr. Sol is attired in Jiis accustomed splen- 
 dour, and the fact must be admitted that in propria per- 
 sona^ he sheds more light upon the aquarial theatricals 
 than was ever known to be thrown upon the unimaginary 
 boards by the usual appliances. The "star" bather is 
 in mcdi'as res of an excellent swim. The youngsters joco- 
 sely splash each other. The sounds are all of revelry by 
 day — all is lovely as a water lilly. 
 
 When " Hush ! Hark ! do you not see a shark ?" * 
 "No I" ' Twas but a water speck or a simple sail ploughing 
 the glassy deep. On with the bath, let noise be unannoyed. 
 No end of watery joy till dinner bells do ring, to tell us 
 there awaits our hungry selves, roast beef and wines, to 
 chase the nasty indigestion from our craving stomachs. 
 On with the fun ! But hold, again ! that speck upon the 
 water grows, and moves while growing towards the bathers. 
 
 * The shark that "appeared " in the summer of 1859, aucl created so much 
 excitement among the bathers was only a myth. 
 
94 
 
 It seems as thougli Destruction had marked some for his 
 own. 
 
 The fear increases. The danger every moment becomes 
 more and more apparent. The juveniles cling to their na- 
 tural protectors. The nurses, that line the shore along, 
 forget their little charges in the tumultuous throng, and 
 many a child is dropped while wild and high, the breakers 
 roll, and lustily the bathers roar. 
 
 The last minute beheld them full of aquarial glee — the 
 last moment in conglomerate ease, and free — now separate 
 from danger, they gaze in charming dishabde, gaze from 
 the shore in wonder real, and scan the contour of the con- 
 founded shark. Curiosity ripens — the shark approaches. 
 The people never before wondered more. Mr. Sol, for a 
 short moment, dims his glory behind a vapory cloud, ends 
 the suspense and discloses to the deluded optics of the 
 consternists, the unpleasant fact that the shark has disap- 
 peared, and that the object which " created so much 
 fuss," was but a speck made large by the reflection of the 
 dai/lifjht's major. 
 
 THE HOP SCENES. 
 
 The hop (that is the Latin, Greek or Hebrew word for 
 a ball,) is the greatest performance of the season. Each 
 
95 
 
 hotel must organize its corps de lioppct^ or else it can- 
 not be considered a first-class establishment. 
 THE DOG, GUN AND LINE. 
 
 Since the interposition of Anatic Providence saved Rome, 
 (and some time before,) the quacking species has been of 
 peculiar interest to sportsmen. These individuals make 
 seasonable progresses Be d'akeon para thina, as John 
 Cypress might have said. Their dog goes with them Be 
 d'aJceon^ &c. They find a "thatchy spot," and recline sidi 
 gramme till grey morn bids them commence operations. 
 The inlet afibrds amusement to flytailers, who were de- 
 scribed by Dr. Johnson as being at one end of a piece of 
 machinery, while at the other was a hook. 
 
 We cannot conclude this book without recording the hope 
 that, if one of our admiring readers should ever be found' 
 in the same predicament as we once beheld a young damsel 
 in the water, and should conclude to repeat that lady's 
 prayer, a speedy answer may be vouchsafed her. 
 
 She had, previously to her miserable situation, been 
 reading " Childe Harold " and "The Fire Worshippers." 
 She was sweet sixteen, and upon this occasion stood up to 
 her neck in the ocean; while she was in this position, 
 she beheld upon the shore, a young, fine looking, favorite 
 stage manager from Versailles. It was her affinity she 
 
90 
 
 thought, for she had yearned for such a one for a long 
 time. Casting her eyes out toward the broad expanse of 
 sea beyond the bar, and at the same time assuming a poetic 
 ■expression, she apostrophised the combined concussion 
 thuswise : 
 
 " Ye elements, in M-hose ennobling stir 
 I feel myself exalted — can ye not 
 Accord me such a being ?" 
 
 (THE CURTAIN FALLS.) 
 
 Report says not what answer the prayer received, but 
 those who may be desirous of further information, are re- 
 spectfully referred to Madame Keckley, unless they are 
 willing to bide their time, until the dark lady's new hand- 
 book of private gossip be put upon the market in due 
 form. 
 
 W 8,0f, 
 

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