USA > New Jersey > Atlantic County > Pleasant Mills > Pleasant Mills, New Jersey, Lake Nescochague, a place of olden days > Part 3
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John Lynch, Died Dec. 15th, 1808. Age 26 years.
And bearing the once popular mortuary verse;
"Reader, behold as you pass by, As you are now, so once was I; As I am now, so you shall be. Prepare for death and follow me."
A story with touches of romance and tragedy is connected with the name of the young man John Lynch. He was a carpenter by trade and one of those employed in the building of Pleasant Mills church. Possessing good looks and pleasing manners he was a social favorite and known as "a regular devil among the gals." He was engaged to an amiable young lady of the neighborhood, but a fairer face having caught his fancy, he broke the plighted word and left her. The girl was deeply in love with him and sought by every means to win him back, but in vain. Mr. Lynch, like many another gay Lothario, was off with the old love and on with the new. Slighted love was changed at last to the fury of a woman scorned, and one day the forsaken girl, in a fit of anger said to a friend, "I hope John Lynch dies before that church is finished!" Two days later Lynch slipped from the roof and fell to the ground, breaking his neck. The young lady was overcome with grief by his death and with remorse for her hasty wish so quickly fulfilled, she at once put
*One of the sons, Gilbert Fanning, was a midshipman with Paul Jones on the Bon Homme Richard and took part in the action off Flamboro Head, September 23d, 1779.
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on mourning and in a few months died herself of a broken heart. Such is the story as I had it from old residents.
Every year hundreds of visitors come to this time honored spot, some to locate the tombs of their ancestors, others to gather historical data and legendary lore. I am not of a morbid disposition, but the old churchyard has a strong attraction for me. In the holy calm of a Sabbath morning, when nature wears the smile of peace, it is pleasant to walk beneath the whispering trees and recall fond memories of kindred and friends, who, free from life's toil and commotion, rest sweetly here in the bosom of mother earth. If at times the mind is unduly impressed with the lessons of mortality, the vanity of human wishes and the shortness of life, the impression is but of brief dura- tion, for thought soon rises to contemplate the glorious destiny revealed in God's Holy Word, from which we learn that this life is but an episode not a finality, and that the true life in all its fullness and beauty lies beyond the vale where all mysteries shall be made clear and, "we shall know even as we are known,"
"See! love, truth and mercy in triumph descending, And nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom,
On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb."
Chapter Eight
The Industries of Pleasant Mills
In 1821 a cotton mill with 3000 spindles was built by Wm. Lippin- cott, a brother-in-law of Jesse Richards. This plant was called the Pleasant Mills of Sweetwater. The name "Pleasant Mills" striking the popular fancy, was soon applied to the whole place and Sweetwater was dropped. The cot- ton plant was in steady operation for thirty-five years, giving employment to a large number of people and yielding good profits to its owner. In 1856 it was destroyed by a fire of unknown origin and never rebuilt. In 1861, Irving and MacNeil erected a paper mill on the site of the cotton plant. Shortly after, Mr. John Farrell became a third partner in the firm. In 1864 Irving and MacNeil sold their interest to Mr. Farrell and took a ten-year lease on the Weymouth Mills. The business at Pleasant Mills was carried on by Mr. Far- rell and his son, William E., under the name of the Nescochague Manufactur- ing Company, until October, 1878, when the building caught fire and was burned to the ground.
The present mill was built in 1880 and operated by the Pleasant Mills Paper Company, of which Wm. E. Farrell was President and Herman Hoopes, Secretary, the older Farrell having retired. In 1887 Wim. E. Farrell became sole owner of the property. He was a shrewd man of business, thoroughly conversant with the papermakers' art, and the plant was his pride. Having set a high standard for its products, he maintained it, whether business was good or bad, and as J. H. Hall remarks in his history of Atlantic county, "Its market was the world." Mr. Farrell died in 1893 leaving the property to his wife, for- merly Miss Celia Hyslop, of Troy, N. Y. Her right was contested by Mr. Farrell's relatives and the business went on under a receiver, Howard Cooper, Esq., until the courts rendered a decision in favor of Mrs. Farrell, who after- wards married Mr. L. M. Cresse, an estimable citizen of Ocean City. Mr. Cresse was appointed president of the Paper Company, and held the position until his death in 1914, when his widow decided to close out the business. In April, 1915, the mill was closed after thirty-four years of continuous operation.
In 1917 the paper plant and other property were purchased by Mr.
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A. J. McKeone, a former superintendent, with hope of restoring the old time prosperity of the place. Industrial conditions produced by the World War, however, made the time inauspicious. Material and help were difficult to get, freight rates were prohibitive, while the delays and uncertainity of transporta- tion made everything a subject of conjecture, and in September, 1917, Mr. Mc- Keone sold the property, with the exception of the mansion house, to the Pleasant Mills Paper Company, by whom it was leased to the Norristown Magnesia & Asbestos Company, under whose management numerous altera- tions were made, new machinery was installed from time to time and the pro- ductive capacity of the plant largely increased. The Norristown Company ceased operation in April, 1925.
In October, 1925, T. B. Buchholz, of Philadelphia and Atlantic City, while selecting the site for the promoters* of the Atlantic City Motor Speed- way, located near here, passed through this quaint village of Pleasant Mills and was greatly impressed with the beauty, adaptability and natural advan- tages of the village as an exclusive country club and bungalow community. Situated as it is in the heart of the deer country and with its many lakes and streams affording excellent sport for both hunter and fisherman, Mr. Buch- holz conceived the plan of making of Pleasant Mills a settlement such as one may see in the forests of Maine.
Mr. Buchholz entered into an agreement with the Pleasant Mills Paper Company early in the spring of 1926 to purchase the entire property. He later sold this agreement to the Pleasant Mills Development Company, retaining, however, a large interest in the company and the general super- vision of the development as planned by him.
The members of this corporation are practical business men, but to their honor be it said. they are not dominated by commercialism only, for they have a sense of the beautiful and a reverence for the storied past. Recog- nizing the natural advantages of the place, it is their aim to make it an ideal home community and a spot of scenic beauty.
The work of development is progressing under the direction of Mr. Buchholz, whose artistic taste is shown in the production of many pleasing landscape effects and whose plan, we are confident, marks the dawning of a new era for historic old Sweetwater.
The remains of Wm. E. Farrell, after resting for some years in Pleas- antville Cemetery, were brought to Pleasant Mills and buried among the scenes that in life he had loved so well. A handsome shaft of granite in- scribed with his name, the date of his birth and death, and his initials in mono- gram, stands above the grave. The ground surrounding Mr. Farrell's lot was recently donated to Pleasant Mills church by his widow, Mrs. L. M. Cresse, and now forms a part of the cemetery.
The following lines appeared in the Atlantic Times, of March 22nd, 1893:
An honest man's the noblest work of God, And this was proved in Farrell's mortal span. Be these words written o'er his burial sod, "Here lies at rest a truly honest man."
Sic transit, 'tis the common lot of men Whose generations rise and disappear, In death's unbroken sleep we leave him then, But never cease to hold his memory dear.
*Note: Within five miles of Pleasant Mills, and within a few hours ride of a fifth of the population of the United States, is located the largest wood auto- mobile race track in the world. Among the promoters of the project were Charles W. Schwab, the steel king; H. E. Clark, President of the Laurel Oil and Gas Co., and Dr. F. B. Ward.
Note: The paper machine installed by the Farrells in the first Mill was the second largest in the world at that time.'
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Chapter Nine
Illustrious Men of Pleasant Mills
It is hardly to be expected that a community so small as this should furnish many illustrious names to the pages of history, but two of its sons at least have achieved a fame that is nation wide. Mr. Joseph Fralinger, of Atlantic City, whose character as a man and citizen is of the highest and whose business reputation extends from the Atlantic coast to the Pacific, was born at Batsto in 1848. He learned the trade off glass blowing which he followed for some years. In the eighties he was widely known as a promoter of the national game and organized the once famous "August Flower Nine." He was identified with many business enterprises and a new idea in confectionery eventually placed him on the road to fame and fortune. Mr. Fralinger is everybody's friend and delights in doing good; his time and money are free- ly used to increase the sum of human happiness and brighten the lives of those around him. When in this vicinity he never fails to visit the cemetery of Saint Mary's, where his parents are buried and where by his expressed wish he will be laid himself when his life pilgrimage is over. By his direction the cemetery, which was showing signs of neglect, has been cleared of brush and greatly improved in appearance.
General St. Clair Mulholland, renowned on the field of war and in the councils of state, was born at Pleasant Mills, and the years of his boy- hood were spent here. That he cherished a pleasant memory of those years is evidenced by the following article from his pen, which appeared in the Phila- delphia Inquirer, January 1st, 1906.
"Anno Domini 1850, I was living as a boy at Pleasant Mills, N. J. Residing there at that time was on old man nearly one hundred years of age. He died, if I remember right in 1852, aged 102. He was a veteran of the Revo- lution, a comrade of Washington, with whom he had m'arched and fought, and had been severely wounded at Brandywine or Germantown, I forget which. That old soldier had lived to see the great development of the Repub- lic for which he had risked his life and poured out his blood, and in his declin- ing years he rejoiced in the glory and splendor of his country. "Why!" he would explain, "when I fought with Washington we had only thirteen States and only three millions of people, now (1850) we have twenty-five states and twenty-five millions of citizens," and so rejoicing and glorying in the grandeur of his country he passed away.
The presence of this old veteran created and diffused throughout the community a spirit of patriotism that was remarkable, and I remember hear- ing the men, as they sat around the country store, conversing of the battles that the veteran loved to recall. The boys of the village would gather around the old man, listen to his talk and gaze upon him, with awe and rev- erence, and I have a faint recollection of hearing that the bullet that made one leg much ยท shorter than the other was still imbedded in the limb. The spirit aroused by him had its effect, and ten years afterward, when the Civil War burst upon the nation, everv young man and boy in the vicinity where he lived enlisted in defense of the Union. Some of them never came back to Pleasant Mills, and sometimes I go read upon the mouldering tombstones the names of my playmates of long ago. The boys were inspired by the hero of '76, with the sentiment that made them heroes, and now 1900, the survivors of the Civil War. like him of the Revolution, greatly rejoice at the still more wonderful development of our country. In 1861, thirty-two states and thirty-two mil- lions of people. four millions of whom were slaves, now (1906) forty-five states and seventy millions of citizens all happy and free, not a slave in the land and the flag under which they fought and poured out their blood representing the only true Republic that ever existed on earth and waving in glory and tri- umph, not on this continent only, but to the farthest ends of the world. Sure- Twenty-four
ly, they too, like the veteran of Washington, can rejoice and now may the presence of the veterans of '61 inspire in the hearts of boys of our time senti- ments of patriotism, so that if ever again danger threatens our constitution, they, like the boys of Pleasant Mills, may be quick to respond and if need be offer their lives to uphold the flag and preserve the Republic erected by vet- erans of '76 and saved by those of '61.
Note: The soldier referred to by General Mulholland was probably "Uncle" Joe Johnson, who served through the war for Independence. He was at Bunker Hill and it was said that he fired the first shot from the American side in that famous battle.
Chapter Ten
The Buttonwoods
The brief historic sketch would be incomplete without some refer- ence to "Buttonwoods," oft named in song and story. This famous group of trees stands or rather stood, on the Atlantic county side near the confluence of Batsto and Atsion creeks. For two centuries they were familiar land- marks, towering above the surrounding woods and overlooking the country for miles. During the Revolution a watching station was fixed in the top of the tallest tree from which a view was obtained of all craft passing up and down the stream. "The Buttonwoods" figured prominently in an ably written poem by the late Albert Doughty, which is still unpublished. But the grand old wood kings that once were a trysting place for dusky lovers and a bower of shade for the weary hunter, have vielded to the touch,of time and are crumbling away soon to mingle with the soil from which they sprang.
Presentation of Memorial Tablet By Kate Aylesford Chapter, D. A. R.
Nov. 14th, 1914, Kate Aylesford Chapter, D. A. R., of Hammonton, placed in Pleasant Mills church a handsome bronze tablet, in memory of the Revolutionary soldiers and sailors buried in the adjacent cemetery. Among the distinguished visitors present was the State Regent and official representa- tives from other chapters of the order. The exercises attending the presen- tation were informal, but interesting and appropriate. Mrs. A. J. Rider, of Kate Aylesford Chapter, as mistress of ceremonies, performed her duty ad- mirably. The tablet was fixed in place by Mr. Wm. Bernshouse, of Hammon- ton, then in his 81st year, but alert and vigorous as a man half his age. The noble gift for a patriotic sisterhood attracts much attention from visitors and is listed among the church's most precious possessions.
To all who love the legends rare, Of old heroic days, I dedicate these rough hewn lines Not seeking thanks or praise, But trust that interest they may wake, In each romantic spot, And call to mind the worthy names That ne'er should be forgot. C. F. G.
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The Mullica
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Tho many bards have lauded well The castled Rhine and blue Moselle, The Britons point with loving pride To Avon's bright romantic tide. Tho theme of legend and of song. Still sweeps the blue Danube along, While proudly rushes, wide and free, Our lordly Hudson to the sea; And inspiration brightly gleams O'er Mississippi, King of streams, My humble muse no more shall roam But seek a subject nearer home, And here she'll rest on folded wing While of the Mullica I sing.
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Dear Mullica! I love thee well And on thy scenes I fondly dwell, And ponder on the various ways I knew so well, in boyhood's days. How often I have plied the oar Along thy low and marshy shore; Or passed the higher banks that stand Down sloping, to thy pebbled strand, Where deep embowered in shades of green, The cozy village homes. are seen.
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Three bridges, of historic fame, The voyager's attention claim, Which reaching forth, from strand to strand Join two fair counties hand in hand. Atlantic says to Burlington, Divided once, we now are one.
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Dear Mullica, a few short years And I must bid this world adieu, And all that now so fair appears Must fade and vanish from my view. Then let my grave be made beside The shore where flows thy crystal tide.
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Batsto
The story of our neighbor village Batsto is nearly as old and fully as interesting as that of Pleasant Mills. The name is a compound of two Indian words, Baatstoo, meaning a bathing place. Here in ages long past the wild people of the forest roved along the pine shaded shore or disported themselves in the swift flowing stream.
The first proprietor of the Batsto estate was Israel Pemberton, whose home was called, Whitcomb Manor. Mr. Pemberton sold the property to Charles Reed, who sold it to one Colonel Knox, and he in turn disposed of it to Thomas Mayberry. In 1767, Joseph Ball, a wealthy Pennsylvanian, bought the place for the sum of fifty-five thousand pounds sterling ($275,000).
Mr. Ball was a practical man of business and at once began to de- velop the natural resources of his domain. Under his direction several hun- dred acres of wild land was cleared and fitted for cultivation. He also set up a blast furnace and began the manufacture of iron from the ore which abound- ed in the adjacent bog lands and was of excellent quality. During the War for Independence many cannon and large quantities of solid shot were cast at the Batsto works for the use of the patriot forces.
The next owner of Batsto was Colonel William Richards, who had served with distinction in the war and was a personal friend of General Wash- ington. Under the management of Colonel Richards the industries of the place prospered greatly. During the war of 1812 he successfully handled several large munition contracts for the U. S. Government.
An incident of that time is worth relating.
The Colonel had finished an order for 50 tons of cannon shot which were to be delivered at New York. The only vessel in the river available for this service was a 60-ton schooner, owned and managed by a colored man, named David Mapps, who with a crew of his own race, traded regularly between New York and Little Egg Harbor. David was a Quaker and stuck to the tenets of his faith like brick dust to a bar of soap. Proceeding to the wharf where the schooner lay, Colonel Richards called the dusky skipper on deck.
"David," said he, "I have a freight for you, one that will pay you well."
"And what may it be?" queried David.
"I want you to take a load of cannon balls to New York as soon as wind and tide will get you there," said the Colonel.
"Did thee say cannon balls?" asked friend Mapps.
"Yes," replied the Colonel, "they are for the defense of the country and the government needs them."
"I'd like to oblige thee," was David's mild, yet firm rejoinder, "but I cannot carry thy devil's pills that were made to kill people."
No argument could change his decision and Colonel Richards was obliged to find other means of transportation for his devil's pills.
Colonel Richards was succeeded in 1822 by his son, Jesse, under whom the place attained the height of its prosperity. In addition to the iron works he built and operated a window glass factory that paid well. The iron and glass works with their correlated industries of wood cutting, charcoal burning and teaming kept a host of workmen busy and made Batsto one of the liveliest places in South Jersey.
Jesse Richards was a famous man in his day and his fame was well deserved, he was a true friend of his people and took an active interest in their affairs, making their joys and sorrows his own. He was a member of the Episcopal communion, but friendly to all denominations. His home was al- ways open for the entertainment of ministers and he was liberal in their sup- port. When his Catholic employees decided to erect a church at Pleasant Mills he assisted and encouraged them in many ways. He died in 1854 and
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the word's "Beloved, Honored, Mourned," engraven upon his monument are a just tribute to the memory of a good man.
About 1843 the iron industry in South Jersey began to decline through inability to compete with the superior facilities of production possessed by the Pennsylvania plants. The Batsto iron works shut down in 1848, the glass factory continued in operation till 1865, when that, too, was closed.
The business ability of Jesse Richards was not inherited by his suc- cessors and the large fortune that he had amassed soon melted away. In February, 1847, a fire broke out in the main street and seventeen dwellings comprising the old and historic part of the village were totally destroyed. Batsto, to-day, is a quiet and restful place with charming bits of natural scen- ery. Its chief industry is farming and there is nothing in its appearance to recall the activity and grandeur of former times.
Hon. Benjamin Richards, son of Colonel Wm. Richards, was born at Batsto, 1797. He resided in Philadelphia and served two terms as Mayor of that city. To the day of his death he cherished a deep affection for the home of his boyhood. His son, Colonel Benjamin Richards, a distinguished soldier of the Civil War, was a frequent visitors to the ancestral domain and could relate many interesting tales of bygone days.
Supplement
Two Hundred Years Ago
A song for the brave old pioneer of stalwart arm and true, Who came to the Jersey wilderness, when all the land was new, He swung his axe with manly skill, laying the wood kings low, And thro' the shade, a clearing made, two hundred years ago.
From early morn while dewdrops hung like 'gems on shrub and tree He wrought till evening shadows fell, and carrolled merrily Some simple ballad of old Scotland, where heather blossoms grow, Or perchance, a verse of sacred song, two hundred years ago.
Rude was the home of the pioneer, rough hewn from the forest tree, And little his worldly wealth I trow, but not for that cared he, There came no strife to vex his life as the days went calm and slow Here in the Jersey wilderness, two hundred years ago.
And at the solemn Sabbath hour with neighbors gathered there Beneath the greenwood canopy, they bowed in fervent prayer And sang the praise of their father's God, who had safely led them so Over storm seas to a friendly shore, two hundred years ago.
I sometimes think as we speed along in swift progression's tide, That we miss the joys of our humble sires, with all our culture and pride, The present pace of the human race is far too swift we know, But men went straight at a slower gait, two hundred years ago.
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Notes to Chapter One
The Indian name of New Jersey was "SCHEICHBI". Their name for the Delaware was "LENAPEWHIHITTUCK" (Rapid stream of the Len- ape). The Leni Lenape belonged to the Algonquin branch of the red race. There were two subdivisions of the tribe in New Jersey. The Mauntaunak-Dela- wares, who occupied the lands between Little Egg Harbor river and Cape May, and the Mincees, located farther to the North, and having permanent vil- lages on this side the Delaware.
The Lenape were valiant fighters, but preferred peace to war. As their numbers diminished, those of their old enemies, the Iroquois, increased, and finally through an alliance with the English, they were able to impose their will upon the Lenape, and compel them to do what they had once of- fered to do voluntarily, i. e., act as referees in tribal disputes, a service for which they received scant thanks or reward.
When white settlers coveted the best lands of the Lenape and the lat- ter refused to sell, the Iroquois were called in and peremptorily commanded the Lenape to move on. But the limit of endurance had been reached with the injured people and they resolved to die like warriors, rather than live like slaves. On the breaking out of the French and Indian War soon after they espoused the cause of the French, and gave both English and Iroquois reason to repent their tyrannv. Their great Sachem at that time was Tadeus- kund, a warrior and hero. While burning with indignation over the wrongs of his people, he was ever merciful to a vanquished foe. Tadeuskund died in 1763 and was succeeded by the pacific Isaac Still, who some years later led the remnant of his tribe away from the graves of their fathers to the distant West.
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The Indians of New Jersey had taken no part in the war, but many of them accompanied their Pennsylvania tribesmen in their exodus toward the setting sun. Many of them, however, still remained, in some cases forming little communities of their own, in others, living with the whites in peace and friendship. Their last reservation was at Indian Mills (Old Shamong).
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