By F. Lawrence Fleming

A History of Tom’s River:

I was born in Island Heights on the 30^th of March, 1948. In the aftermath of this event, I experienced the full extent of my childhood in Island Heights, and in the adjacent and surrounding township of Toms River, New Jersey. At the age of fourteen, I moved with my family to the state of South Dakota. I have, however, since revisited the haunts of my childhood a number of times; each visit has only reinforced my feelings of affinity with the countryside along the northern shore of the Toms River estuary and with the people who live there—and with the people of bygone days who once lived there.

About two months ago, I was searching the Internet for any photos I could find of the three houses in which I had lived as a child. A friend in Sweden had asked about my childhood, and stopping short of writing an autobiography, I decided to send some old photos instead. I have plenty of old photos stored in digital format, some of them showing our house in Bay Shore, a three-roomed bungalow that was built in the 1940s; but oddly enough, I had no photos of the other two houses, one of which was already very old when I lived in it, and therefore much more historic and, I supposed, infinitely more picturesque than the other.

By typing my former addresses one by one into the browser, I quickly discovered at a Toms River-based realty site that both of these other houses, the one in Island Heights where I was born and the other in Seaside Park where I lived for a couple of years before moving to Bay Shore, are still extant and presently in use as rental accommodations during the tourist season. The house in Seaside Park, like the one in Bay Shore, was built in the 1940s, and is not all that picturesque; however, the house in Island Heights is a lovely old building with a long and very engaging history, engaging even for those who have never had the privilege of actually living in it. Built in about 1840 under the supervision of the famous architect Edmund Cobb Hurry (1807-1875), it was first owned by a sea captain, John C. Page (1820-1892), who plied the schooner trade between Toms River and New York City for most of his life. Captain Page’s wife was Henrietta Applegate Page (b. 1830), who raised six children to adulthood in that house. When she died in 1905, her eldest son, John C. Page Jr. (b. 1856), also a sea captain, continued to live in the house with his family. He died in 1929. His wife, Laura DeVault Page (b. 1860), who in her turn raised six children to adulthood in the house, died in 1946. The house was then purchased by Laura’s good friends, the next-door neighbors Franklin and Norma Odenheimer, who subsequently invited my parents to become their tenants in this house in 1948.

Satisfied with the more recent photos I had obtained from the realty site; I still needed to find some pdf document concerning the history of Toms River Township that I could send to my friend in addition to the photos. With a minimal amount of searching, I found the following document: The 250th Anniversary of Toms River by J. Mark Mutter, township historian. This appeared to be just the sort of document I was looking for. While reading through the document, however, I was brought to a sudden stop when I came to the year 1685 in the timeline for the town of Toms River: “Circa 1685: Thomas Luker, originally from England and later Massachusetts, settles here. He marries the local Lenni Lenape chieftain’s daughter, Anne. They settle and establish a life together along a tributary of a river, behind the present-day Toms River Post Office.” Accompanying the text in the document, quoted from above, is the sketch of a bearded man, named Thomas Luker, who is dressed in buckskins and a coon-skin cap, and below it is another sketch: an Indian maiden, apparently Princess Anne, is standing in front of a tipi, which in 17^th-century New Jersey would actually have been a wigwam.

I was born and raised on the northern shore of the Toms River estuary, but as a child I never heard any legend about a Thomas Luker and his Indian princess. Something seemed strangely amiss here, and I decided to look further into the matter. The Wikipedia article concerning Toms River gave me a little more information:

Much of the early history of the settlement of Toms River is obscured by conflicting stories. Various sources list the eponym of the township as either English captain William Tom, or farmer and ferryman Thomas Luker. In 1992, as part of celebrations commemorating the township’s 225th anniversary, official recognition was granted to the tradition that the “Tom” in “Toms River” was for Thomas Luker, who ran a ferry across Goose Creek (now the Toms River).

There is no mention whatsoever in this article of the legendary character that I knew from my childhood as “Indian Tom,” the namesake of the Toms River. And yet, the Indian head on the seal of the Township of Dover was retained when the township was renamed Toms River Township following a referendum in 2006. Maybe the Indian head is nowadays a depiction of this Thomas Luker after he went native, or maybe it is supposed to be a depiction of Chief Suncloud, Thomas Luker’s purported father-in-law. Whatever the case may be, I have given this matter considerable thought, and I have done a considerable amount of research, and I have come to the conclusion that Minckhockama (ca. 1660-1740), a Lenni Lenape chieftain who was known to the early settlers of New Jersey as Indian Tom, was the true namesake of the Toms River. Now, I could simply provide you with the historical documents that, in my judgment, prove my conclusion to be correct, but what would the fun be in that? I think that some important lessons can be learned if we examine all the circumstances of that age-old debate concerning the question of who the Tom in Toms River actually was.

I was not, of course, the only child born in and around Toms River in 1948. Judging from the size of my grade-school classes, we were at least 20 little rascals who were born in that year, and, like Hal Roach’s Rascals, we hung out together after school and during the summer break, and we wreaked mayhem wherever and whenever we could—although never intentionally. Sledd races down Central Avenue always put innocent sidewalk pedestrians in danger, and moreover, usually ended up causing bodily harm to one or two contestants on the ill-defined finishing line at the Pavillion on River Avenue. Wintertime also provided a crust of ice on Barnegat Bay, at first so thin that, although it would “usually” support the weight of a child, it would nonetheless ripple in front of a child as he or she slid out onto the bay from a running start ashore. In the summertime, the banks of Long Swamp Creek and Dillon’s Creek provided the ultimate daredevil entertainment: jumping up and down on the hummocks in order to make the bog quiver like jelly. (The kid who happened to break through or slip off a hummock lost any wager that had been made, and also incurred the additional penalty of explaining the wet clothes to his or her parents. The explaining was easier for the boys. You know, boys will be boys.) And we went fishing at every opportunity, boys and girls alike, from wharf and pier, and from rowboat borrowed without permission. As far as I know, none of us could swim, and yet none of us drowned, although there was certainly a precarious dunking or two. And we were often successful during our fishing expeditions. Barnegat Bay was teeming with fish in the days before industrial pollution and agricultural runoff. We even attempted to break into the fishmonger’s trade in order to get rid of the fish we caught, but also to make what profit we could from our favorite pastime. Unfortunately, nobody was interested in paying for something they thought they should get for free. Our Gang of local kids was even honored with its own name, a name that was coined by Miss Applegate, our third-grade school teacher. We were the Barnegat Scalawags. A scalawag, explained Miss Applegate, is an especially mischievous pirate. “So, now that you kids have a name, try to stay out of trouble.”

Apart from being the most beautiful woman in the entire world, Miss Applegate was the best teacher a kid could ever wish for. Not only did she successfully teach us the three Rs without actually boring us to death, she even taught us history, which I am sure was outside of the regulation third-grade curriculum of the time. And she not only taught us standard American history, like the Shot Heard Round the World, or the Signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1776, or Custer’s Last Stand at the Little Big Horn; she even taught us local history, things about old Toms River and about old New Jersey that not even genuine professors of history knew anything about. We couldn’t figure out how someone so young could know about so many things that happened such a long time ago. I realise now that she was a person of profound sensibilities.

For example, she taught us that Toms River was once a thriving seaport, a center for shipbuilding, whaling, and commercial fishing. This was why, Miss Applegate told us, we kids were taught sea shanties like Heave Away My Johnnies, Haul Away Joe, and Blow the Man Down, while kids in other schools further from the sea were taught ordinary songs like Frère Jacques and Pop Goes the Weasel. Not even Miss Applegate, however, had any idea as to what a capstan, or a windlass, or a bowline might be.  

She told us that she half-believed the old legend of Captain Kidd, the notorious pirate, burying an enormous treasure at Money Island, but that she did not want any of us trespassing on Mr. Schroeder’s property looking for it. And there was to be no digging whatsoever. We half-promised not to go looking for it, although some of us did so in secret. That there had to be a treasure buried there made perfect sense to us; why else would the place be called Money Island?

She also told us the story of Captain Joshua Huddy, who had commanded the little garrison at the Toms River Blockhouse in 1782 when it was outmanned and outgunned by the Loyalist forces that had been sent to Toms River by ship from New York City. (Especially interesting for those of us who were born in Island Heights was the fact that Captain William Dillon, the privateer, who was engaged as pilot for the British ships when they left Sandy Hook bound for Toms River, was and would always be our very own bad guy. Island Heights, before it became Island Heights in 1887, was known as Dillon’s Island because of the nasty Captain Dillon who had owned it.) Half of the Patriots in the blockhouse were killed, Miss Applegate said, and the other half, including Captain Huddy, were captured, and then the village of Toms River was put to the torch and burned to the ground. Captain Huddy and some of the other survivors of the battle were taken to a prison ship that was anchored in New York Harbor. Captain Huddy was later hanged by the Royalists for the murder of Phillip White, a crime he had played no part in.

And then there was Old Indian Tom, after whom the Toms River had been named. Concerning Old Tom, Miss Applegate said she did not know much for sure, mostly old legends that had been kept alive by our great-grandfathers and by their fathers before them. Old Tom was the Lenni Lenape sachem who with open arms had welcomed the first white people who came to settle along the shores of Barnegat Bay. As a token of their gratitude and deference, the settlers had renamed the river that was first called Goose Creek to Tom’s River. And also according to legend, Tom had built a wigwam atop the highest bluff in Island Heights, which in the time of those first settlers had been called Dr. Johnston’s Island after the original proprietor, a pharmacist from Edinburgh, Scotland. From this high place, Old Tom had a spectacular view of his beloved Barnegat Bay. Miss Applegate said that we should all be proud of Indian Tom. He was here before us, and he will still be remembered after all of us are gone and forgotten, all because he was such a remarkable person that he had a river named after himself.

Miss Applegate was a remarkable person. She should be in her late nineties by now, something that for me is infinitely difficult to comprehend. I had become something of a teacher’s pet by the time I was finishing the third grade, and it is because of Miss Applegate’s mentorship that I became fascinated at such an early age by all aspects of human history. Indeed, it is because of her that I am not fooled by the poorly researched revision of Toms River history that was officially endorsed by the government of the Township of Dover at the township’s 225^th anniversary in 1992.

Incidentally, this officially sanctioned revision of history was not the first attempt ever made to evict Tom from his cozy wigwam. In 1866, an article appeared in the New Jersey Courier, a Toms River newspaper, in which a certain Selah Searcher contended that the Tom in Toms River had probably not been Old Indian Tom as almost everyone else in the Township of Dover believed, but, much more likely, had been an English man-of-fortune named Captain William Tom. This article stirred up a hornets’ nest of a debate in the newspaper, although few of the New Jersey Courier’s readers, most of whom had daily concerns of a more practical nature, were ever stung.

Selah Searcher was an early nom de plume of the lawyer and author Edwin Salter (1824-1888). Later, under his real name, he published a number of books concerning the history of Monmouth and Ocean Counties, New Jersey. (Although her students thought Miss Applegate’s knowledge of local history was nothing short of phenomenal for someone so young and beautiful and fresh out of college, her knowledge must nevertheless have had its sources. I realise now that Edwin Salter’s books would have had a place of honor on her bookshelf at home.)

Toms River: One tradition, quite generally accepted in the vicinity, says that it was named after a noted Indian named Tom who resided on an island near its mouth, and whose name was said to be Thomas Pumha. Indian Tom, it is stated on seemingly good authority, resided on Dillon’s Island [Island Heights] near the mouth of Toms River, during the Revolution. As the name “Toms River” is found about fifty years before (1727) it throws some doubt upon the statement that the name was derived from him.

Another tradition, and a more reasonable one, says that the place was named after Captain William Tom, a noted man along the Delaware from 1664-1674. A manuscript in the Library of the New Jersey Historical Society—I believe the author’s name is Henry—says the stream was named after Captain William Tom. One or two aged citizens who spent much time about Toms River about fifty years ago, inform me they saw it also stated in old publications at Toms River or vicinity when they were there. The manuscript above referred to gives a quotation from Delaware records which, however, is not conclusive. I do not consider the facts yet presented on either side give satisfactory reasons for deciding either way upon the origin of the name. [Edwin Salter, A History of Monmouth and Ocean Counties (1890), pp. 125-126.] [Editor’s remark (F. L. Fleming): Edwin Salter’s book was published posthumously. He died in 1888, and so did any knowledge of the whereabouts of the manuscript, possibly written by a man named ___ Henry or Henry___, mentioned in the quotation above. I have searched for this manuscript, but without success.]

[In the following two paragraphs, Edwin Salter is quoting James N. Lawrence:]

“Rebecca [Luker] Baud [born about 1750], daughter of Daniel Luker, the first White inhabitant of the place, told me [i.e., James N. Lawrence 1810-1909] [. . .] that she could remember when it was a thick cedar swamp where the bridge is now, and a log was used for pedestrians to cross on. Then came a severe storm which destroyed the timber after which a ferry was kept by her father until a bridge was built, a portion of which may now be seen. [Editor’s remark (F. L. Fleming): Remains of what was possibly Luker’s Bridge are still evident during extremely low water levels in the Toms River.] John Lawrence [1709-1794, from the same Lawrence family as James N. Lawrence, that is, a first cousin once removed,] in his notes calls it “the riding over place,” afterwards Luker’s Ferry. Captain Stephen Gulick [1794-1884], the oldest male inhabitant here [in 1878], will corroborate my sketch.

“Tom, from whom the name [Toms River] was derived, and his brother, Jonathan Pumha, owned all the land south of Metedeconk to Goose Creek (see Smith’s History of New Jersey: 1721). Tom died about 1734 or 5, much lamented as he was known as a friend of the White man, always holding out inducements for the Whites to settle on his lands.” [Edwin Salter, Centennial History of Ocean County (1878), p. 84.] [F. L. Fleming: Mr. Salter is, in the two paragraphs quoted above, quoting from an article Mr. James Lawrence had published in the New Jersey Courier in which Lawrence had expostulated with him about Indian Tom being the true namesake of the Toms River. Personally, I put much stock in what James Lawrence had to say, and not just because he took the same side in the debate concerning the namesake of the Toms River as I do. James Lawrence was this amazing sea captain who sailed the seven seas and lived to the age of ninety-nine, a perfect hero for someone from Toms River. His father, Joseph Lawrence (1780-1838), and his grandfather, Benjamin Lawrence (1754-1810), were both judges of the Court of Common Pleas in Dover Township. Benjamin Lawrence was even a lieutenant in the Continental Army during the Revolution. Benjamin Lawrence’s father, John Lawrence (1704-1767), was a son of James Lawrence (circa 1660-1730). Both men were contemporary with Indian Tom. It’s hard to imagine another old Toms River family that would have been more steeped in knowledge of local history.]”

[Edwin Salter is in the following paragraph no longer quoting Lawrence:]

That Indian Tom lived as late as the time [1740] mentioned by Mr. Shreve [Samuel Shreve (1829-1884) lived on Dillon’s Island.], we have heard traditionary corroboration from the late Hon. Charles Parker (father of Governor Joel Parker), who was in business at Toms River in 1810. Mr. Parker [1782-1862] had a remarkably retentive memory and he informed the writer that when he first came to Toms River, he talked to men who had known Indian Peter, a brother of our Indian Tom; that Indian Tom once undertook to sell lands for other Indians, but proved a defaulter, and was not again trusted, was drunken, etc.; and the personal recollections of these men would probably not go further back than say fifty years before Mr. Parker talked to them. [Ibid. p. 84.]

Anyone who has had occasion to study the history of Ocean County, New Jersey, will be thoroughly acquainted with the books by Edwin Salter. I now know some of them almost by heart. Not only was he a masterful sleuth while working among the parchments and papers held by the New Jersey State Archives—and this was way before the era of the computer database—he also endeavored to preserve in print as much as he could of local folklore. Mr. Salter, we shall forever be in your debt. Word of mouth so often drains out into a sea of silence. Nevertheless, he did occasionally commit some error in judgement. One such occasion was when he convinced himself that the Indian who reputedly spied for the British from the bluffs of Dillon’s Island was named Tom. Local folklore asserted that this had indeed been Indian Tom, and that Tom had survived his exploits of espionage during the Revolution, and was still alive and well—although not entirely sober—at late as in 1785. Therefore, Mr. Salter reasoned, Indian Tom could not possibly have been the namesake of the Toms River because he would, at best, have been a wee papoose when, at some point in time before 1712, Goose Creek was renamed as Toms River. Folklore, however, is anything but dependable when it comes to discovering how history was actually played out. I believe that the folklore of the Township of Dover confounded the legendary Lenni Lenape spy on Dillon’s Island with the likewise legendary Indian Tom, who, however, must have been born as early as in about 1660. Word of mouth had eventually created a composite character who lived to the remarkably old age of 125 years. I have little doubt that there really was a Lenni Lenape man lurking on Dillon’s Island who kept an eye on the movements of privateer ships in the Toms River estuary and, in exchange for firewater, reported his observations to the highest bidder. This man is, however, not mentioned in any official document or in any contemporary newspaper article. We don’t know his name. Maybe his name was really Tom; maybe he was Tom, Tom the Piper’s Son, judging from his somewhat shady reputation, or maybe he was Tom, a no-good son of Indian Tom.

But let us now flip forward in the calendar from the 1870s to the month of April in 1989, and to an article published in the Asbury Park Press by Daniel S. Clay:

She had been interested in the history of her family since she was a little girl growing up in Illinois, but a chance conversation with a Toms River lawyer set her on the road to becoming a highly respected historian in New Jersey and Ocean County.

Housebound with an ailing mother in 1951, Pauline “Polly” Miller [1918-2011] began reading book after book on the history of New Jersey and became familiar with the names of local streams and local early settlers.

[ . . . ]

She began checking on the origin of the name of Toms River and was puzzled by what she thought was a theory that didn’t make sense. Popular thought was that Toms River was named possibly after an Indian, but it probably was named after a man named William Toms, a reputed surveyor who surveyed the area around Toms River in the late 1600s.

But Mrs. Miller found during her research that there were Indians in what was to become the Toms River in 1685 and that a map recorded in 1690 identified the river by the name of Goose Creek. When she put that together with the fact that Capt. Toms died in 1678, she realized that the name didn’t come from him.

Many years later, in 1975, her doubts about Toms were confirmed by a man from Albany, N.Y., who said that Toms never was a surveyor and had never visited what is now Toms River.

What she had discovered, though, was that about 1700 a man named Thomas Luker settled near the bend in the river, where he lived in a wigwam with his wife, Princess Ann, in what is now the downtown area of Toms River. Traders came to refer to the river as Tom’s river, after Thomas Luker. The Luker family was considered primitive, she said.

Mrs. Miller said descendants of the first settlers of Toms River knew the river was named after Thomas Luker but thought no one would ever honor a primitive family by acknowledging that the river and the town were named after him.

And now let us flip our calendar back about twenty-five years to 1964 and the Luker Family Historical Society Newsletter, published in Salt Lake City, Utah. As far as I have been able to discover, the earliest mention in print of the contention that a certain Thomas Luker had been the actual namesake of the Toms River is to be found in this newsletter:

The following article was submitted by Harriett Farina our New Jersey Historian researcher. Anyone having additional information concerning these lines, or speculation on the interpretation, please submit to society office in Salt Lake.

“The brothers three soared over the sea on the back of a big blackbird, the blackbird had no legs to run, but across its breast was carved a falcon. One wed Roose, they ate goose.

“Luker means river in Indian tongue, and along the river my new life [was] begun. This little shire may never know fame, but at this time it bears my name. The big bird blessed Dan and Hester Van with Becky at my door, with the help of our maker if all goes well, they will have many more.”

The interpretation of the above: Three Luker brothers came over from England on the Falcon in 1635. In those days the emblem was either carved or burned in front of the ship. In the early times goose was quite a delicacy and only the wealthy had it often for dinner. One of the brothers must have wed a woman, whose name rhymed with goose. There was a Luker appointed deputy to the legislature December 2, 1695, who was credited in Mr. Hariman’s ledger to making “three journeys to Amboy on Alice Roose (reus), her business to the amount of one pound and seven shillings.

The last verse is explained by Harriett as follows, this I know is true as I have the marriage date of Daniel Luker and Hester Van in 1726 and they did have a daughter Rebecca, who later married a Mr. Baud, she was very old but still living in 1835. [Luker Family Historical Society Newsletter, Salt Lake City, 1 January 1964, #1, p. 3.] [Fleming: Here I think it is important to point out that Harriet Burke Luker, who I surmise was Harriet Luker Farina’s great-grandmother, almost certainly knew Rebecca Luker Baud personally. Rebecca would apparently have died in 1832 without any surviving children. It is also imortant to notice that the personal names of the “brothers three” are not given in this Luker-family nursery rhyme. In a later, lengthier version of the poem, printed in 1967, the name Thomas (Luker) has been inferred from the following lines: “This little shire may never know fame/But at this time it bears my name” (i.e., Toms River). Moreover, “Luker” does not mean “river” in Indian tongue; the Lenape word for river is “Sepu.”]

Now let us flip our calendar forward again about three years to 1967:

It is a pleasure for me to thank the many people who have given me documents which provided the necessary information to write a more complete history than would have otherwise have been possible. I especially want to thank Harriett M. Farina for putting the Epic Poem at my disposal, James C. Lillie for survey data, Vivian Zinkin for copy-editing my material, Charles A. Morris, former Ocean County Superintendent of Schools for information on the rural schools of the township, and numerous other people who have encouraged and urged me to complete this work.

Pauline S. Miller

Toms River, New Jersey

March 1, 1968

[Pauline S. Miller, Early History of Toms River and Dover Township (1967).]

The legends and myths about how Toms River got its name have been going on for many years. The old Indian Tom and Captain William Tom legends both have their supporters; however, there is no documented proof that it was named for either man. Old Indian Tom, whom some people think the town was named for, was an Indian living on the cliffs of Island Heights, then Dillon’s Island, during the Revolutionary War. He was a British spy, although he would serve the Loyalists or the Patriots for ‘white lightning’. We know that he lived here as late as 1785, which places him here in too late a period for the river or town to have been named for him; certainly, his character would not warrant such an honor. Captain William Tom came to America in 1664 with Sir Robert Carr, agents for the Duke of York when the Duke acquired the Province of New Jersey from his brother, King Charles II. Captain Tom settled in New Castle, Delaware, serving as collector of quit rents, surveyor, and sheriff, taking over the duties pertaining to the English government of the Province after it had been surrendered by the Dutch. There is no documented proof that he ever came to the Toms River shores, although Salter says in his History of Monmouth and Ocean Counties that “it is not inconceivable that he might have come.” Captain Tom died in New Castle in 1678.

The name of the river changed from Goose Creek to Tom’s River between 1702 and 1712 indicating that a personage by the name of Tom lived along the river. He must have been the outstanding man in the area for individuals to designate this place as Tom’s river. I believe that this man Tom was Thomas Luker. Tom Luker had come to this country from England in 1685 with his brothers Mark and William Luker on the ship called the Falcon. They first settled in Connecticut where Mark Luker helped Roger Williams establish the Baptist Church. Mark Luker later settled in Shrewsbury, but Tom came alone to the shores of Toms River. Thomas Luker probably came to live along the river about 1700; he would have been well enough established by 1712 to have the river take his name. He lived among the Indians and married the chieftain’s daughter, Princess Ann. The Indians changed his name to Tom Pumha, meaning “white friend” and built Tom and Ann a wigwam on the bend of the river. Their son Daniel married Hester Van in Old Christ Church in Philadelphia on October 24th, 1726. Luker family tradition says that the Indians gave the land to Tom and Ann upon which their wigwam was built. Records do show that their son Daniel owned a triangle of land starting at Toms River Bridge and running north along the west side of Main Street to about Washington Street, then turning westward to a point called Luker’s black oak by surveyors, then running southeastwardly back to the bridge to Luker’s white oak. Tom and Ann’s wigwam stood about where the First National Bank is today. Daniel Luker is credited with building the ferry across the river; the epic poem started by Tom and continued by Daniel says that Daniel ran the ferry for his father. Salter says the ferry was here in 1749, however, it could have been here as early as 1740, for surveyor John Lawrence called it the “riding over place,” indicating that Toms River was then an established area with some means of crossing to both sides of the river.

[Pauline S. Miller, Early History of Toms River and Dover Township (1967), p. 10.]

AN OLD EPIC POEM

The brothers three soared o’er the sea on the back of a big blackbird. One wed Roose. They ate Goose. The blackbird had no legs to run, but across its breast was carved “A Falcon.”

I came alone and made my home in the heart of the Indian land. It was made of hides stretched on poles, and sewn by the Indian’s hand. They loved “Old Tom” and gave me my home on the river’s bend. I like it here and here will stay until the very end.

Pumha means “White Friend,” so the Indians claim. I’ve been called “Tom Pumha” so many times, I’m beginning to think it’s my name.

Luker means river in the Indian tongue, and along this river my new life begun. This little shire may never known fame, but at this time it bears my name.

The bird blessed Dan and Hester Van with Becky at my door. With the help of “Our Maker,” if all goes well, they will have many more. Dan tilled his land, reaped by hand, and for his father the ferry ran. He went from farm to farm and taught the teaching that “Our Lord” hath wrought, while Becky toddled from door to door, praising “Our Lord” forevermore.

Tom and Dan will carry on, for they are hale and hardy. My time I will give to help aid my party. We give thanks at every meal whenever we are able. Thanks to Tom, from now on, we will have Grace at our table.

Grace and I have been heaven blessed with a little Tommy too. We fear his life span will be very short, for at the age of sixteen years and four short moons, he’s been called to defend our fort.

A bloody battle is raging on against our very own kith and kin. We never know from day to day when the fires will come raging in. We pray to “Our Maker” in heaven above to let us live through this fiery rage, and let our own dear son live to reach a manly age.

Great Grandfather would be saddened to see his river’s bend, once so calm and peaceful, and now a bloody den.

The battles now are over, our son home at last. We are asking “Our Maker” in heaven to help us forget the past. Thanking Him with all our hearts, our family all here at last to carry on the Luker name, and Great Grandfather’s shire to bring to fame.

Tommy and Elizabeth soon will wed when the churchman comes around. They are asking “Our Maker” already for two sons, a Brazilia and a Tom. We are hoping their prayers will be answered as we are nearing that “Golden Shore.” We will soon be with “Our Maker” each day forevermore.

[Ibid. p. 11.] [Fleming: At the bottom of page 11, below the Old Epic Poem, the following caption is to be read: The legendary INDIAN Tom for whom Toms River was named certainly must come from Tom Luker. He looked like an Indian since he dressed like them, lived in a wigwam among the Indians and married an Indian princess.]

While doing the research for this blogpost, I have thoroughly enjoyed reading the books on Ocean County history by Pauline S. Miller. Especially recommended and fairly easily obtained (most of her other books are out of print) is her crowning achievement: Ocean County: Four Centuries in the Making, 981 pages, published by the Ocean County Cultural & Heritage Commission in the year 2000, and available from the Ocean County Historical Society. But despite her well-deserved reputation as a conscientious county historian, and her incontestable status as a cultural icon in Ocean County, she, like Edwin Salter before her, did make some errors in judgement. Although her history of Toms River is in all other respects commendable, her story of the ferryman of Toms River who went native and married an Indian princess is simply all wrong. What can I say but “Mrs. Miller, how could you be so gullible? That “Old Epic Poem?” It is so obviously not what it is purported to be. Had you analysed the historical content of the poem more meticulously, and had you attempted to verify its alleged provenance more diligently, you would have understood it for what I think it actually is: a 20^th-century genealogical hoax, what one might almost call a practical joke. It’s true; you were a victim of this hoax and not the perpetrator, but this fact does not excuse you entirely from responsibility. You received (probably in the post) the typescript of a poem about a man named Thomas Luker from a Florida woman named Harriett Farina, who, we may assume, expected you to read it and afterwards come to certain (predetermined) conclusions concerning the history of Toms River, New Jersey, and the early family history of the Lukers of Toms River. Regrettably, you came to the very conclusions you were expected to.

What do we know about Harriett Luker Farina (1919-1998), that zealous-to-the-point-of-obsession historian of the Luker family of Toms River? Not very much of any substance, I’m afraid. Some insight and a few chuckles can nonetheless be reaped from the book Luker’s American Legacy by Harold E. Luker:

It would be impossible to thank everyone who has contributed to this work. Our family’s major record keepers started with Old Tom himself in about 1685, and continued with Harriet Burke in the Eighteen-hundreds. Much credit also goes to the members of the original Luker Society of Utah and the great amount of work they accomplished years ago. This work would not have been possible, however, had it not been for Harriett “Gale” Luker Farina of Lake Worth, Florida, and Donna L. Renninger of Tarpon Springs, Florida.

Gale, who is of the pen and ink era, would probably never admit to how many years, or decades of years, she has researched and kept records of our family. Without the use of computers, she has kept records in long hand and typed information since her childhood.

[Harold E. Luker, Luker’s American Legacy (1996), p. ii.]

The first Lukers to arrive in America came from England, and while we had Lukers settling down in several New England states during the mid-1600s, the earliest known arrival landed in Virginia in 1609. According to our research, most of the Luker families living in America today are descendants of the Toms River, New Jersey, Lukers. We will report on the other early Lukers to the extent possible, but because it is believed that they were uncles and cousins to the New Jersey Lukers, we will give you as much information as we can about our ancestral home and our American roots in Toms River.

Before the arrival of the Lukers in North America, there were earlier Luker voyagers to South America. Family legend tells of a Luker family sailing from England to Brazillia, (now known as Brazil, South America) during the mid-1500s. During that voyage a son was born aboard the ship which reportedly flew a Spanish flag. The Lukers named their new son Brazillia, after the country for which they were sailing. The name Brazillia has continued to reappear (with different spellings) in the New Jersey Luker lines and as far as we know, the name has never been found in any other Luker line. [Fleming: For a reasonably well-educated genealogist, the assertion above is just plain silly. The earliest recorded Mr. Luker with a personal name similar to Brasilia, i.e., the Latin translation of Brazil, was Barzillai Luker (1794-1873), who lies buried in Riverside Cemetery, Toms River, New Jersey. He was, however, named after an Old-Testament character from the Bible: Barzillai the Gileadite, a loyal subject of King David during the rebellion of Absolom, c. 885 BCE. Barzillai Luker’s name had absolutely nothing to do with the State of Brazil.]

Later we learn of three Luker brothers, a Thomas, William and John, who are joint owners of a ship called the Falcon. Lady Temperance Flowerdew Yeardly wrote in her journal of how she departed from England on the Falcon, how it was owned by the three Luker brothers, and of how William Luker died and was buried at sea on her voyage to Jamestown, Virginia in 1609. Lady Temperance became the wife of Jamestown’s first acting governor, George Yeardly, and so her journal had been preserved.

(Lady Temperance‘s Journal was read personally by Harriett “Gale” Luker Farina, one of our family’s most devoted researchers. She also had access to the old family bible that told us about Chief Suncloud’s family found in Chapter 1.)

[Fleming: Temperance Flowerdew Yeardly (1590-1628) was a real person who sailed for Jamestown aboard the HMS Faulcon on the ill-fated third supply mission to Jamestownin 1609. The Faulcon, one of the nine ships in the fleet, was captained and possibly owned by John Martin (1562-1632), who later became a councilman at Jamestown, and not owned and commanded by any Luker Brothers Three. Moreover, while Lady Temperance may possibly have kept a personal journal, there is no evidence that she actually did; therefore, Mrs. Farina could not possibly have read it. On the other hand, I have very little difficulty in believing that Harriett Farina actually possessed an annotated Luker family bible, probably that of Harriet Burke Luker (1796-1896), the grand old lady of the Luker family, and probably even Harriett Farina’s great-grandmother and namesake. I would very much like to know what became of it.]

It is believed that these early sixteen hundred Luker brothers were related to the Brazillia Luker born at sea, due to his name being carried on in so many of their descendant families. It is also believed that one of these brothers became the father or grandfather of Ol’ Tom. (One of the Luker brothers mentioned in Chapter One and in the “Luker Poem of Life” as one of the “Brothers Three.”

Two of the Brothers Three were named Thomas (Ol’ Tom) and William. It’s a strong possibility that the third was named John and so they were namesakes of the original brothers who owned the Falcon. While the Brothers Three were of a later generation, they were still sailing the Falcon or a namesake Falcon (as passengers or owners) in the mid- to late-1600s. [Fleming: This is rather far-fetched. The author is here attempting to loosen the tangled knot he has tied himself into. In addition, the Mark Luker in Pauline Miller’s version of Luker genealogy has in this version been transformed into John Luker. A Mark Luker did indeed exist. He was, just as Mrs. Miller explained, a founding member of the Baptist Church, although this particular church was established in Rhode Island, and not in Connecticut. A William Luker—as a matter of fact, two William Lukers—did actually exist. They appear to have been father and son, and they lived in Elizabethtown, New Jersey. Moreover, there were indeed three brothers, Thomas, William, and John, in the early 18^th century. They were also from Elizabethtown, but their surname was Looker, not Luker. Of these Brothers Three, Thomas later settled in Virginia, not in Toms River, New Jersey.]

William and Thomas settled in central New Jersey in the late-1600s. There is also a John living in the area at this time, but we don’t know if he was one of the “Brothers Three.” Tom ended up having his settlement named after him (Toms River, New Jersey), and this is the village (shire) that became the ancestral home of thousands of Lukers living in North America today.

[Ibid. pp. 1-2.]

There are several good reasons to assume that nearly all of the stanzas in the “Old Epic Poem” were composed in the 1960s by Harriett Farina herself.

To begin with, the version contained in her article for the Luker Family Society Newsletter (1 January 1964) is only two stanzas in length (13 lines of “poetry”); no reference is made to a Thomas Luker, or a ferry crossing on Goose Creek (Toms River), or a Luker’s marriage to an Indian Princess. As a matter of fact, it is just the sort of cryptic jingle one would expect to find inscribed in an old family bible. Dan and Hester Van were undoubtedly real people; they were the great-grandparents of the Barzillai Luker who was married to Harriet Burke, who I surmise was Harriett Farina’s great-grandmother. If Harriett Farina was indeed in possession of a Luker (or Burke) family bible as she claimed, I wager that she retrieved the original version of the Old Epic Poem from within the pages of her great-grandmother’s bible.

On the other hand, the version of the poem that was printed in Pauline Miller’s book The Early History of Toms River and Dover Township in 1967 is 11 stanzas in length (100 lines of poetry). Surely, Pauline Miller was never aware of the fact that the Epic Poem had been published earlier in a form that was much less than epic; otherwise, she would definitely have smelled a rat.

Additionally, this later version of the poem incorporates many of the details about Indian Tom that Edwin Salter had set out in his books on the history of Monmouth and Ocean Counties, books that Harriett Farina had probably read—over and over. Thus, Thomas Luker is, in the Old Epic Poem, called Pumha, meaning White friend of the Indians, while Indian Tom was also called Pumha, but with the meaning: Indian friend of the Whites. (I’m sorry, Mrs. Miller, but this should have been for you a dead giveaway that something was wrong with the genealogical and historical information you had received from Mrs. Farina. I have tried to trace and define the word “pumha” with the help of Daniel Brinton’s Lenâpé-English Dictionary [1888] and other more recent works on the Lenape language, but with no success at all. What did the word actually mean? Your guess is as good as mine.) Moreover, Thomas Luker Pumha dresses like an Indian and lives in a wigwam in the Epic Poem because he is a White man married to an Indian Princess who is trying to impress his in-laws, while Indian Tom Pumha dressed like an Indian and lived in a wigwam because he was an Indian. And, most importantly, both men have been claimed to be the namesake of the Toms River, Thomas Luker because he ran a ferry across Goose Creek, which was an indispensable service to merchants who wanted to deliver their goods to the village of Toms River; and Indian Tom because he—well, no one really knows who he was or what he did to have the Toms river named after him—we simply remember him as Indian Tom.

And finally, the epic version of the Epic Poem contains genealogical information about the Luker family of Toms River that only a dedicated family historian like Harriett would have been privy to because of her own personal research into Luker genealogy. My conclusion is, therefore, that Harriett Farina composed the bulk of the Epic Poem herself, but neglected to tell anyone that this was the case.

But just because Harriett wrote a poem about Thomas Luker doesn’t necessarily mean that he was a purely fictional character. Even if we should dig deeper into this matter, but fail to find any record of a Thomas Luker, born in England in about 1660 and died in Toms River, New Jersey, in about 1701; this doesn’t mean that he never existed. (Many people from this time never made it into any records.) It simply means that he probably never existed.

I have dug rather deeply into this matter and, believe me, I have found no record whatsoever of a Thomas Luker (circa 1660-1701), and not for any lack of effort. Nevertheless, I feel I have the responsibility to try to set the record straight concerning the genealogy of the Luker family of Toms River, New Jersey. As a genealogist, I now find the Luker family to be one of my absolute favorites. (In the following, I have chosen to follow what I surmise is Harriett Luker Farina’s paternal line of descent.) (When researching the paternal descent of the Lukers of Toms River, it is important not to confuse the surname “Luker” with either “Loker” or “Looker.” Loker and Looker are not acknowledged alternate spellings of the surname Luker, but are surname variations of an entirely distinct family in colonial America. Henry Loker (1606-1688), who settled in Sudbury, Massachusetts Bay Colony, in 1638, had many descendants. Some of them remained in Massachusetts; others removed to mid-Atlantic colonies. Thus, we have both a William Luker and a William Looker in 17^th-century records from Elizabethtown, New Jersey. There is no good reason to believe they were one and the same person, despite the striking similarity of the two surnames. Thomas Looker (b. 1702) is believed to have been a son of William Looker of Elizabethtown. Thomas emigrated from Essex County, New Jersey, to Rockingham County, Virginia, and not to Monmouth County, New Jersey.)

New Jersey State Archive documents that concern the Luker family:

DATE: 19 October 1677.

TO: Benjamin Devell.

WARRANT: 120 acres. Middletown; Monmouth County. To Benjamin Devell in right of Mark Luker. [New Jersey State Archives (NJSA): Liber 2, Part B: Folio 65 (PEASJ003).]

DATE: 22 October 1737.

TO: Stephen Crane.

FROM: William Luker.

SURVEY: 100 acres. Elizabethtown; Essex County. [Elizabethtown Township Survey: Book C: Folio 13 (MEM00001).]

DATE: 5 February 1755.

TO: Gawin Lawrie.

SURVEY: 22.24 acres. In Shrewsbury on the north side of Toms River, Monmouth County.

PERSON NAMED: Daniel Luker (Owner of adjoining land). [NJSA: S4(EJ Surveys): Folio 10 (PEASJ003).]

DATE: 12 August 1761.

TO: Abraham Schenck.

FROM: Thomas Bartow.

SURVEY: 346.27 acres. In Shrewsbury on the north branch of Toms River; Monmouth County.

PERSON NAMED: Daniel Luker (Owner of adjoining land). [NJSA: S4 (EJ Surveys) Folio 365-367 (PEASJ003).]

DATE: 22 April 1789.

TO: Henry Cuyler at the request of Edward Dunlop.

SURVEY: 15.71 acres. On both sides of the road to the Drowned Lands; Newtown Township; Sussex County.

PERSONS NAMED: Caleb and Johnson Luker (Chain Bearers). [NJSA: EJ Loose Records: S10-129 (64931) (PEASJ003).]

DATE: 10 August 1796.

TO: Elisha Lawrence at the request of William Williams.

SURVEY: 40 acres. On the south branch of Kettle Creek; Dover Township; Monmouth County.

PERSONS NAMED: Benjamin and Thomas Luker (Chain Bearers). [NJSA: Loose Records: S10-129 (64931) (PEASJ003).]

DATE: 12 June 1800.

TO: Andrew Bell at the request of William E. Imley.

FROM: John Rutherfurd.

SURVEY: 22.49 acres. Wrangle Brook; Dover Township; Monmouth County.

PERSON NAMED: Daniel Luker Jr. (Owner of adjoining land.) [NJSA: EJ Loose Records: S13-114 (66847) (PEASJ 003).]

DATE: 25 May 1812.

TO: James Parker.

SURVEY: 31.27 acres. Between the main branch of the Metetecunk River; Dover Township; Monmouth County.

PERSON NAMED: Thomas Luker Jr. (Owner of adjoining land). [NJSA: S 16 (EJ Surveys): Folio 212 (PEASJ003).]

DATE: 1 July 1816.

TO: Anthony Irvins on right of location.

FROM: Elisha Boudinot.

SURVEY: 63.85 acres. Wrangle Brook; Dover Township; Monmouth County.

PERSON NAMED: Barzillai Luker (Chain Bearer). [NJSA: EJ Loose Records: S13-114 (66847) (PEASJ003).]

DATE: 23 August 1825.

TO: Enoch Luker on right of location.

SURVEY: 100 acres. On the south side of the main branch of Rangle Brook in the fork between said brook and the South Prong; Dover Township; Monmouth County.

PERSON NAMED: [Thomas] Ralph Luker (Chain Bearer). [NJSA: EJ Loose Records: S20-190 (70268) (PEASJ003).

DATE: 14 November 1741.

TO: James Alexander.

SURVEY: 512.7 acres. Beginning where Maple Root Swamp empties into the Great Brook on the northerly branch of Toms River near Success Mill Brook; on the south side of Long Swamp; near James Grover’s Swamp; Cedar Swamp which is called the Spong; the Spong of Maple Root Swamp; at Toms River at the Riding Over Place; adjoining the Millstone River; cedar swamp on the north side of Success Mill Brook generally called Southland Swamp by the English and by the Indians Passcoconessa; Monmouth County. [NJSA: S1 (EJ Surveys): Folio 210-213 (PEASJ003).]

DATE: 5 September 1754.

SURVEY: 8.96 acres. On the first southerly branch of Toms River above Luker’s Ferry; Monmouth County. [NJSA: S3 (EJ Surveys): Folio 448-449 (PEASJ003).]

DATE: 26 August 1760.

TO: Daniel Bray.

SURVEY: 6.4 acres. In Shrewsbury; near the north end of Luker’s Bridge; on Davenport’s Branch; Monmouth County. [NJSA: S4 (EJ Surveys): Folio 291 (PEASJ003).]

DATE: 19 June 1761.

TO: Thomas Barker and John Coward.

FROM: Andrew Johnson.

SURVEY: 13.09 acres. North side of Luker’s Branch; on Wrangel Brook; on a branch of Toms River called Davenport’s Branch; a large beaver pond; a large pod called Deer Pond; Shrewsbury Township; Monmouth County. [NJSA: S4 (EJ Surveys): Folio 347-348 (PEASJ003).]

A genealogy of the Luker family of Toms River, New Jersey:

In 1632, Mark Luker (b. ca. 1605), the son of a London merchant, was imprisoned in the infamous Clink prison in the Southwark district of Central London along with John Lothropp (1584-1653) and 41 other members of the Separatist Movement in England. The prisoners were released on bond in 1633, the condition being that they emigrate to the Massachusetts colony in North America at the earliest available opportunity. The HMS Griffin—and not the HMS Faulcon—made land in Boston, Massachusetts on 18 September 1634. Mark Luker did not, however, remain long in Boston. He moved to Newport, Rhode Island, where he became one of the twelve founding members of the Baptist Church of Newport. He and his wife, Mabel, were baptised in 1641. We may assume that they had children, but unfortunately there is no record of these. Mark Luker purchased 120 acres of land in Middletown, New Jersey, in 1676, but he died in December of that same year before he could resettle there. We may assume that his eldest son inherited his New Jersey estate, but again, there is no record of this.

“Elizabethtown, like the Navesink towns, held a patent from Colonel Nicolls dated 1 December 1664. In December 1684 Lawrie was approached by a delegation of ten Elizabethtown men headed by John Parker, a former assemblyman, and William Luker, an old settler, with an offer to void their Nicolls and questionable Carteret patents in return for a general patent of their township lands subject to a nominal quitrent of one lamb per annum.” (JE Pomfret, The Apologia of Governor Lawrie of East Jersey, 1686, The William and Mary Quarterly (1957), pp. 344-357.) I think that it’s safe to assume that William Luker of Elizabethtown, New Jersey, was a son of Mark Luker of Newport, Rhode Island. William could possibly have been a brother, but it seems doubtful that Mark Luker was accompanied on his voyage to the New World by any members of his family in London.

On 22 November 1737, a William Luker purchased 100 acres of land in Elizabethtown, New Jersey. Taking chronology into consideration, I think we may assume that he was a son of William Luker of Elizabethtown, New Jersey, son of Mark Luker of Newport, Rhode Island.

On 17 October 1726, Daniel Luker married Hester Van in the Old Christ Church (Episcopalian) in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Once again taking chronology into consideration, I do not think it is far-fetched to assume that Daniel Luker was either the younger William Luker’s brother or possibly his first cousin. There are land survey records in Toms River dated 5 February 1755 and 12 August 1761 which specify a Daniel Luker as the adjacent landowner. It is generally accepted that it was Daniel Luker who established and ran the ferry service across the Toms River, and it was possibly he who built the first bridge at the “riding over place” on the river. (If it hadn’t been for Old Indian Tom, perhaps Goose Creek would have been renamed as Daniels River, which also rolls nicely off the tongue.)

Thomas Luker (1738-1772), the earliest Thomas Luker in records, was a son of Daniel Luker. He married Grace McDaniel on 6 August 1759. The Daniel Luker who married Amy McDaniel (Grace’s sister?) on 8 December 1760 was a brother of Thomas. His other siblings were Rebecca, Hester, and Joseph.

Thomas Luker (b. 1765) was a son of Thomas Luker (b. 1738). He served as a private in the New Jersey Militia during the Revolution. The name of his wife is not recorded. It is possible that she was of Lenni Lenape descent, and that this marriage would explain the Luker family tradition of being part Native American. (Although her name may actually have been Anne, I doubt very much, that she would have been a princess.) Thomas’ siblings were David, Elizabeth, Margaret, and Mary.

Barzillai Luker (1794-1843) was a son of Thomas Luker (b. 1765). He was married to Harriet Burke (1796-1896). Harriet Burke Luker, in a letter to her son Caleb Luker, dated 30 October 1887, wrote: “My son, you wished to know of what nationality you are. I will tell you as far as I can go back on your Father’s side you are English. Your origin has been traced back 160 years [i.e. to 1727 and the marriage of Daniel Luker and Hester Van in Philadelphia], and as I mentioned, has been found to be a mixture of English and Indian. And on my side, my forefathers are Irish and English. I should say you are of English nationality for there is English on both sides.” (Luker Family Historical Society Newsletter, p. 2.) Harriet Burke Luker was Thomas Luker’s daughter-in-law. She would surely have known if Thomas Luker (b. 1765) had married a Lenape/part-Lenape woman. A certain Thomas Luker (1794-1879) was one of Barzillai’s seven brothers.   

Thomas Ralph Luker (1842-1913) was a son of Barzillai Luker. He was married to Adeline Benson (1847-1938). Thomas’ siblings were Caleb, Elisha, and Harriet.

Thomas Luker (1878-1960) was a son of Thomas Ralph Luker. He was married to Amy White (1882-1969). Thomas’ siblings were Harriet, Elisha, Lewis, Charlotte, Sarah, Frances, Saphronia, Mary, and Brazilla.

Harriette M. Luker Farina (1919-1998) was, I surmise, a daughter of Thomas Luker. I have put her into this empty slot in the Luker pedigree because it is the only available slot that she fits into. Thomas and Amy Luker had a daughter, Julia, who died in 1901 at the age of two. It’s true; Amy Luker was thirty-seven years old in 1919, which may seem somewhat late in life for a woman to have a baby, but it is by no means impossible. Besides, Harriett could have been adopted. Thomas Luker’s two brothers had more than their fair share of children, but these children are all accounted for, and there was not a Harriet among them. Amy White’s sister, Delaura, was married to Thomas Luker’s brother Elisha, and her brother, Clarence White, was married to Thomas’ sister Frances. Harriette M. Farina has been a very difficult person to trace. I found her dates of birth and death in the Social Security Death Index. She appears to have died in Palm Beach, Florida; her former residence was in Lake Worth, Florida. The rest, I fear, is silence, at least, for the time being. Such a mysterious lady! And so much mischief.

Having come to this point in my blogpost, I trust that I have convinced you that Captain William Tom cannot possibly be the namesake of the Toms River because he died in 1678, at which time the future Toms River was still called Goose Creek; and that a certain Thomas Luker cannot possibly be the namesake because there does not seem to have been a Thomas Luker in existence at the beginning of the 18^th century, and because the verifiably first man in New Jersey to be named Thomas Luker (b. 1738) was born too late to have had the river named after himself. This brings us back to Old Indian Tom. Was he a real person, or is he just a legendary character who was once invented in order to explain the eponym Tom’s River? I think the best way to decide would be to look for evidence of him among the surviving records of land acquisition and survey from the 17^th and 18^th centuries. This I have done, and I was pleasantly surprised to find not only evidence of Indian Tom, but also evidence of his alleged brothers, Indian Peter and Indian Jonathan.

DATE: 8 October 1679.

TO: John Browne (Yeoman).

FROM: Jonathan (Sachem) (of Wickatong); Pandam (Sachem) (of Wickatong); Perorack (Sachem) (of Wickatong); Quahicke (Sachem) (of Wickatong); and Shenatapo (Sachem) (of Wickatong).

DEED: Monmouth County, Wickatunk, meadows and meadowlands. [Monmouth Co. Deeds, Vol. B: Folio 33 (CMNCL001).]

DATE: 30 April 1688.

TO: Daniel Coxe.

FROM: Apauke, John (alias Ossemakaman), Monoeckomon (alias Mr. Tom Nummi), Sakamay, Synekhen, and Tomahacko.

DEED: West Jersey. Little Egg Harbor. Payment: “Ten stript matchcotes Twelve blew and red matchcotes, twelve stroud water matchcotes twelve [illegible] cotes Ten Kettles Twelve Shirrts Twelve pair of Stockings Thirty two knives fforty five shillings in silver Twenty barres of Lead Ten tobacco boxes one rundlett of shott halfe hundred of powder fower pound of Red Lead one Grosse one [illegible] of Pipes Two Capps fower Adzes five handsawes Two hundred flints Tenn Gunns Tenn Axes Tenn howes fower drawing knives Twelve looking glasses five steeles Eighteene Auls Twelve Combs Six Jews harps Sixteene Gallons of Rumm one barrell of beere Two pair of shoes and two Callicoe neckcloths”. [New Jersey State Archives (NJSA): BPt1 (WJ): Folio 202 (SSTSE023).]

DATE: 21 February 1715/1716.

TO: Abraham Brown.

FROM: Indian Peter.

DEED: Land and Cedar Swamp at Sea Side; adjoining to a tract of land purchased by Nicholas Brown called Manahawkin; along a path by the head of a cedar swamp; North to the Bay and by the Bay. In consideration of money received. [NJSA: E (WJ): Folio 79 (SSTSE023).]

DATE: 16 August 1711.

TO: Paul Dominique (West New Jersey Society).

FROM: Indian Tom (alias Minckhockama).

CONVEYANCE: Land between Ne-Sha Sakaway Brook and Delaware River, Burlington County. Payment: thirty pounds money. [NJSA: BBB (WJ): Folio 202 (SSTSE023).]

DATE: 12 July 1734.

WITNESSES; Indian Tom, Indian Peter.

CONVEYANCE: This indenture made the twelfth day of July in the year of our Lord 1734 between Indian Pombelous (one of the natives of New Jersey), of the one part, and Edmund Beakes of the County of Burlington in the Western Division of New Jersey, yeoman, of the other part. Witnesseth that the said Pombelous, for and in consideration of the sum of thirty shillings to him in hand paid and received, he doth hereby acknowledge every part and parcel thereof and do acquit and forever discharge to Edmund Beakes forever by these agents who have granted, bargained, sold, aliened, invested and confirmed and by those persons do grant, bargain, sell, alien, invest and confirm unto the said Edmund Beakes, his heirs and assigns a certain tract of land lying in the Eastern Division of New Jersey, near the Cedar Swamps bounded as followeth: Beginning on the branch of the Toms River where Beakes Saw Mill stands, and where Pelcookonossey comes in at the said branch, thence westerly by the side of Pelcookonossey till we come to where we cross Covinshanock, then by a direct line to a cedar swamp commonly called Onhomanthen, then easterly by said swamp till it comes into the branch of the Toms River above these, to the place of beginning. Together with all the wood and water (woods, mines, minerals, quarries, fishings, fowlings, hawkings, huntings) rights, royalties, liberties, privileges, water and water courses to the described tract of land belonging or in any way appertaining, to have and to hold the above described tract of land with all and singular the watercourses thereon and all other appurtenances there unto belonging or in any way appertaining unto the said Edmund Beakes, his heirs and assigns to the only proper care and behoves of him, the said Edmund Beakes, his heirs and assigns forever, and the said Pombelous doth covenant for himself and for his heirs to do with him the said Edmund Beakes, his heirs and assigns that at the time of the insealing hereof, hath full power and good right of absolute authority to grant, bargain and sell all and singular the above described tract of land with the appurtenances thereon, and that of said Edmund Beakes, his heirs and assigns shall peaceable and quietly have, hold and enjoy all of the above described tract of land with all and singular appurtenances there unto belonging or in any way appertaining without any molestation claim or demand of him the said Pombelous or his heirs or any other of the native Indians whosoever shall and will warrant and defend by those present. In witness where said Pombelous has set his hand and seal dated the day and year above written. 1734. Signed, sealed and delivered in the presence of us: Jim Scuish, Indian Tom, Tuly Carpentor, Weshawanskunk, Anthony Woodward, Thomas Cobbs, James Freeze, Teedyuscung, John Pombelous, Indian Peter, and Walolowaond. [NJS: An Interdisciplinary Journal, Winter 2019: “Much of what the Historical Society knows about the deed comes from research done during that year. Elizabeth Meirs Morgan of Forked River, then second vice-president of OCHS and Director of the Ocean Nature and Conservation Society, received the deed from her cousin, Dr. David Meirs of Cream Ridge. The document had been kept at his farm, Walnridge, for “countless years,” according to a July 10, 1979 Ocean County Times-Observer article. Ms. Meirs Morgan deemed the document of particular significance, noting for the Observer that “it proved that as late as 1734, there was still virgin Indian land that had not been purchased by white settlers.” The Observer article continues, “The Indian petitioner for the sale of rights on the…deed was Bartholomew S. Calvin, known also as Wilted Grass or Shawuskukhkung…He was a Princeton educated Indian who knew his ancestors did not realize how much they had given up in return for blankets, match coats, axes, and trinkets…the purchaser was Edmund Beakes, of Burlington County…” The land sold for 30 shillings.”]

DATE: 1 August 1735.

TO: Lewis Morris Jr.

FROM: Lewis Morris Sr. (agent of West New Jersey Society)

LETTER: Lewis Morris in London to Lewis Morris Jr. at Morrisania directing the son to ship any papers belonging to the West New Jersey Society to London.

PERSONS NAMED: Daniel Cox (prior owner of land), Tom (prior owner of land “I forget his Indian name.”) [NJSA: M (WJ): Folio 352 (SSTSE023).] [See Deed BPt1 (WJ): Folio 202 (SSTSE023) which is listed above.]

What conclusion should we draw from the evidence contained in the documents listed above? I think we should conclude that, with very little doubt, the former Goose Creek, situated in the province of East Jersey, was in the very early 18^th century renamed Tom’s River after a local Lenni Lenape man named Indian Tom (Pumha). We still don’t know for sure that he really was a sachem (chieftain) of his tribe who welcomed the Whites as friends, thus earning their respect and even their honor. Local folklore asserts that this was the case, but we shall never know for sure unless some hitherto undiscovered document, proving that this was the case, is found. Historians know from experience that, although folklore is usually rooted in events that have actually taken place, one has to be exceedingly careful not to take folklore as gospel truth.

For example, we Scalawags of Barnegat really did believe that Captain Kidd had buried a treasure on Money Island. We believed this because we wanted to find the treasure and become rich beyond our wildest dreams. It turns out, however, that William Kidd is not known to have ever landed in New Jersey. And yet, there is good reason to believe that Money Island was called Money Island as early as in the late 18^th century, maybe earlier. Why was it called Money Island? Let us be grown-up about this and say that someone at some time (probably during the Revolution) found a chest of coins (probably pieces of eight) that someone else had hidden on Money Island in the days before it became Money Island. Did this lucky finder find all the treasure that was buried there? We’ll never be absolutely sure until someone’s shovel again hits paydirt on Money Island.

We Scalawags also believed our teacher when she told us that Toms River had once been a thriving seaport. We believed this because we all thought we had a measure of seawater flowing in our veins, and that we were no ordinary landlubbers. This belief in the seaport of Toms River was, however, struck by a rogue wave of Mother Nature’s reality when Barnegat Bay was affected by a phenomenal blowout tide, shortly before the advent of a hurricane from the south. We kids believed that the Bay had to be at least a thousand feet deep in the middle. After all, sharks and whales were sometimes seen in the Bay, and once an ocean sunfish (Mola mola), more than 1,500 pounds in weight, had become entangled in pound nets. That day, when most of the water in Barnegat Bay magically disappeared, we realised that the average depth of the Bay was only about six feet. We couldn’t believe our eyes. Even Miss Applegate was astounded. How on earth had oceangoing sailing ships ever tacked up the estuary to the thriving seaport of Toms River without perpetually running aground?

We Scalawags even believed in the Jersey Devil, and we regularly combed the shores of Barnegat Bay searching for its tracks. We were not aware of the fact that JD always keeps itself to the forests of the New Jersey Pine Barrens, south of Toms River. Neither were we privy to the Jersey Devil’s backstory: Once upon a time—to be more precise, in 1735—a woman by the name of Deborah Leeds discovered that she was pregnant with her thirteenth child. Petrified with alarm, she knew without a doubt that this child would be cursed. When it was born, the child, a handsome enough human baby, transformed before its mother’s eyes into a winged creature with hooves and a long, pointed tail. This baby-turned-creature then flew out of the window and into the pine forest. Is there really such a thing as the Jersey Devil? Of course not. What a childish belief! However, Mrs. Leeds never told her story to anyone who had the opportunity of writing it down at the time, but if she had, I’m sure the unembellished story would also have been tragic. Just any old story does not usually make its way into folklore.

What, then, is the most important lesson we have learned by examining all the circumstances of the debate concerning the true etymology of the geographical placename “Toms River?” I say it is the following: If you smell a rat, it’s probably because there is one. When in doubt, do the conventional research in the archives, or have someone do it for you. Documentary evidence doesn’t really lie, although it can be misinterpreted. A search for pertinent historical documents, and the conscientious study of such documents should they be found, will usually help the historian or the genealogist to steer clear of any abject foolishness that may be lurking about.