The story of Ocean County begins with the story of Monmouth County, and that story begins with a woman. Sometime before 1648, a young Dutch woman named Penelope was on board a ship from Holland with her husband. They planned to settle at New Amsterdam. Unfortunately, her husband became ill during the voyage. To make matters worse, their ship was wrecked near Sandy Hook.
The passengers all survived and made it safely to the beach. Since they were afraid of the Indians, they decided to press on immediately for New Amsterdam. Penelope’s husband, however, was so sick by this time that she was afraid to move him. The others went on, promising to send help back.
Not long after the others left, the brave young couple was attacked by a band of Indians and left for dead. Penelope survived, but she was severely wounded. She crawled into a hollow tree trunk for shelter (Stockton 58). A few days later, two other Indians found her. Penelope braced for the death blow. Instead, one of them picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. He carried her back to the Lenni-Lenape encampment, and made sure she was well taken care of.
The Lenni-Lenape, whose name meant “Original people,” were generally not warlike at all. In fact, they were often called the “grandmother tribe” because of their willingness to make peace.
Eventually, word of a white woman living with the Indians got back to New Amsterdam, and her former companions came back to rescue her. By this time, she had been adopted into the tribe and was treated very well. The Indians left it up to her to decide what to do. (Stockton 62).
Penelope chose to move to New Amsterdam, and later married an English settler named Richard Stout. She convinced him to sail across the bay to visit her Lenape friends. On seeing the area and meeting the Indians, it occurred to him that this would be the perfect place to plant a new settlement (Salter 13).
A few years later, he and eleven other men from Long Island, brought two large tracts of land from the Lenni Lenape Indians. They paid “188 fathoms of wampum, 1 shirt, 12 pounds of tobacco, 1 anker (sic) of wine, 11 coats, 3 pairs of breeches, 9 blankets, 45 yards of duffel cloth, and one gun,” along with gunpowder and shot (Salter 14 and 34). Many of the Indians wanted coats, but few had any use for pants. They said, “Indians’ legs like white man’s face, no want covering” (Salter 34).
The twelve Long Island men decided that since the area was a British colony, it would be wise to get a legal title from a representative of the King. Colonel Nicholls was the royal governor at the time, so they went to him, along with the Indian Chiefs they had purchased the land from, as proof it had been bought and paid for. Interestingly, New Jersey is one of the few states that can truthfully claim every foot of land was legally acquired from the Indians; nothing was stolen (Stockton 32).
As Governor Nicholls prepared to sign the document, now called the Monmouth Patent, the twelve men asked for one more thing: The wanted a pledge of unrestricted religious freedom for all who settled here. Most of them wer Quakers, and had suffered severe religious persecution in Puritan colonies.
The religious toleration clauses of the Monmouth Patent were made seventeen years before William Penn founded Philadelphia. It is an accident of history that he gets all the credit for coming up with the idea (Salter 15).
The Freedom of Religion guaranteed by the Monmouth Patent probably encouraged a little band of religious dissenters called the Rogerenes to come here. Named after their founder, John Rogers, they were also sometimes known as the Quaker-Baptists, since John Rogers agreed with the Quakers on pacifism and baptized by immersion. The Rogerenes had many beliefs that the Puritans called heresy.
First, the Rogerenes believed in complete equality between men and women. They hated slavery and wanted to see it abolished. They believed in peaceful co-existence with the Indians. They did not use alcohol or tobacco. They didn’t even take medicines, as they believed in divine healing.
John Rogers was born in New London, Connecticut. Although he was the son of a wealthy miller and baker, he lost his inheritance through fines imposed by the Puritans. He earned his living by making shoes.
As a young man, John Rogers began a serious study of the Bible. He felt that churches should be as much like the New Testament model as possible. He began baptizing his followers by immersion, which was against the law in Puritan Connecticut.
Rogers’ chief adversary was Governor Gurdon Saltonstall, who also happened to be the minister of the New London congregational church.
Rogerene records note dozens of instances of persecution; One Sunday, the Rogerenes gathered at eh New London Mill Cove for a baptismal service. Governor Saltonstall’s men suddenly swept out of the woods and dragged away twenty people. Men and women alike were stripped and flogged with ten stripes, including an expectant mother.
John Rogers really made enemies out of the Puritans when he said that Christians should be allowed to work on Sundays. This directly flew in the face of the old Puritan Blue Laws.
For making shoes on a Sunday, Rogers was tied to a cannon in the public square and given sixty lashes on his bare back with the county whip. Rogers stated, “I was hard at work making shoes on the first day of the week, and would have continued to do so, even if my shop was right under the magistrate’s window!” The record states that he was beaten until his back turned to jelly. The very hour Rogers was released, he went right back to teaching, preaching, and baptizing.
The Puritans also poured hot pitch into Rogerene Preachers’ mouths as they tried to speak, or over their faces and into their eyes.
Even the most famous so called “fact” about the Rogerenes was a lie spread to make their teachings look silly. Have you ever heard the story that the Rogerenes took knitting, whittling, or other work to their church services every Sunday? I’d heard it too, and even repeated it at the museum. But after reading a rare book written by two Rogerene leaders, I discovered it was another attempt by the Puritans to make the Rogerenes look ridiculous.
The real story was the Rogerenes were banned from having their own worship services, and they were threatened with jail for Sabbath breaking if they didn’t attend Governor Saltonstall’s established New London church. A group went to one Puritan service. At a signal, the men put on their hats and the women began to knit or sew. The point was a silent, yet very public protest against the Puritan Sabbath laws.
The Puritans also mocked the Rogerenes for their belief in divine healing. However, historical records prove the average Rogerene lived to be 70, 80, and 90, in an era when life expectancy was forty!
John Rogers himself died in 1721, at the age of 73. Abraham Waier, our town’s founder, died in 1768 at age 85. Governor Gurdon Saltonstall, Rogers; worst persecutor, a wealthy man who lived in luxury, died of apoplexy at 58. Go figure!
About twenty years after Rogers’ death, a small group of Rogerenes left New London. Abraham Waier was among them. They first went to a little place called Schooley’s Mountain, in Warren County, New Jersey. They stayed in Schooley’s Mountain about three years before going further south.
The Rogerenes arrived on our soil in 1739. A few scattered families were already here to greet them, but there was no formal town center. Lenni-Lenape Indians used the old Pancoast Road to visit the bayfront in summer, fishing and clamming in the nice weather, then retreating back inland to their wigwams in the fall.
Families who pre-dated the Rogerenes included the Birdsalls, Camburns, Sopers, and Falkenburghs. Many were Quakers, and they welcomed the newcomers, for as the Quakers say, “All humanity is our kin.”
These friendly locals allowed the Rogerenes to use their little white church/schoolhouse to hold worship services. Located at the site of Old Presbyterian Cemetery, it was a “free church” where all denominations could meet. Unfortunately, it burned to the ground in 1930.
The Birdsalls built ships at Shipyard Point, which was located approximately were the Long Key Marina is today. In this 1910 postcard you can see Birdsall’s Bridge, which was part of their property, over Waretown Creek.
Joseph Soper had another shipbuilding business in town called Soper’s Landing. It was located at the mouth of Lochiel Creek, on the border between Barnegat and Waretown. These two families sailed their ships up and down the Eastern Seaboard, selling locally harvested lumber, oysters, and charcoal. This was called the Coasting Trade. In a sense, they were the “long distance truckers’ of the day. There was a very good living to be made in this business, although there was risk, too. Several stones in our old cemeteries list “shipwreck” as a cause of death.
One of the oldest houses in Waretown was owned by the Falkenburghs. They were mariners in the coasting trade, settling here in 1732. The house still stands, containing two marble fireplace mantles which Amos Falkenburgh brought back from Italy on one of his voyages (Miller 89). The home is now on the National Register of Historic Places.
Soon after arriving in 1739, Abraham Waier built his gristmill. It was across the street from today’s library, in the woods by where the Waretown water tower is today. A dirt path behind the well drilling place leads to the site.
This painting of Waier’s Mill is based on the Old Mill of New London, Connecticut. It was built and operated by ancestors of the Rogerenes, so Abraham’s mill probably looked much like it. Waier’s Mill would have had an undershot wheel, as is shown in the painting, because our area is so low-lying.
Make sure you check out Abraham Waier’s original millstone in front of our museum. His mill ground grain and corn to make flour and meal. His millstones were extremely expensive and valuable. He brought them along when he left New London. They originally came from a quarry in New Hampshire, as proven by the distinctive white granite.
Abraham’s millstone was literally the foundation of Waretown. You see, Abraham was a rarity of the day—an honest miller. In those days, people didn’t pay cash to have a miller grind their grain. Instead, they gave the miller a portion of their flour. Some millers were notorious for having sneaky little ways of taking more than their fair share. They did things like building a square housing for the round millstones, making four “innocent” corners to collect extra grain. Some even went so far as to build secret spouts to siphon off more.
But Abraham Waier, with his strong religious principles, refused to cheat in any way. People knew they could trust him. Soon, they started coming from all over to have him grind their grain. He was called “an enterprising businessman and a most worthy Christian.” People started calling the place Waier’s Mill, which was later shortened to Waretown.
Waretown had its share of excitement during the Revolution, with many of our local men engaged in skirmishes on land and sea. Some served as soldiers with the Fifth Company of the Monmouth Militia, or Privateers on the bay and ocean, determined to disrupt British shipping. The Soper family shipyard and the Headley farm were raided on many occasions by loyalist outlaws, and several altercations took place on the Barnegat Bay. The massacre at Long Beach Island saw Reuben Soper killed by loyalist outlaws, along with two dozen other patriot privateers. They were caught unawares while sleeping on the beach, after capturing and unloading a stranded British ship (Salter 209-210). See the article on the Revolution for more details.
During the War of 1812, the Soper family was once again in the crosshairs of the British as Hezekiah and Timothy Soper’s ship Mary Elizabeth was burned by Commadore Hardy on Waretown’s bay front, along with another ship, the Greyhound. This caused a general scare for the entire population, who watched the flames from shore and then went home to hide their valuables. Captain Amos Birdsall had a run-in with Hardy, when the commodore seized his schooner, President (Salter 291-292).
Thankfully, they let Captain Birdsall go, and he was not impressed into the British navy.
As the nineteenth century progressed, life in Waretown stayed serenely the same for several generations. Most residents built their homes near the shore of the bay, on the rise of land just behind the salt meadows. Small dirt roads connected them to their bay front landings, and the larger “Main Shore Road” connected them to one another. Our seafaring families still built and operated their own ships. Sawmills dotted our streams, harvesting lumber for the coasting trade.
Ocean County was struck off from Monmouth in 1850, to accommodate our rising population, and to make the county seat closer for those in Egg Harbor and Tuckerton. Waretown’s Jacob Birdsall was behind this effort, and he became the first representative of Ocean County in the New Jersey Legislature.
Ocean Township itself, containing the towns of Waretown and Brookville, was created in 1876. Ocean Township was given its name because most of its inhabitants were sea captains. Our township’s boundaries literally extend right across Barnegat Bay, through the Inlet, and out to the Atlantic.
By the time of Ocean Township’s founding, Waretown stood on the brink of vast changes. When the Civil War ended in 1865, big steam powered ships fired by hard coal began to change the face of seagoing commerce. They were faster, larger, and cheaper to operate than wooden sailing ships. Since the larger, heavier steamships could not easily maneuver in our small, shallow bay, they moved on to bigger ports in larger harbors. Railroads also began replacing the coasting trade in getting goods to market.
This crucial turning point was recalled by Dr. John Newbury in 1937, as he spoke abut the Waretown of his boyhood. He said: “The shoreline [of the bay] was far different than it now appears…Waretown Harbor was filled with two and three-masted schooners…looking up and down [Main Street], we knew every house was [owned by] an active or retired sea captain.
There was Captain John Homes, Captain Enoch Jones, Captain Bill Burden, and Captain Jacob Birdsall. Captain William Warren was across the street [from us]…they were big men who knew ships, knew the sea, and who stayed in Waretown and Barnegat when the world left them behind.
As the age of speed came, there was only the coast guard and this business of taking out fishing parties left for them. {Bryant Road} went out into what is now deep water. There was room for a four-mule team, with a load of wood and charcoal, to turn around. Now, three rock piles offshore recall the old road” (Beck, More Forgotten Towns 324-325).
You can still see some of the large rocks, which “marked the old road,” here in the bay at low tide. They were used as ballast in the tall ships, providing weight and stability when they were empty of cargo.
In the “high tide” of Victorian Waretown, we can peek through the mists of history to glimpse our coastal village, nestled between the Pine Barrens and the bay, linked by the ocean to the world at large. Everyone knew everyone else—in fact, many are still related through complicated webs going back generations. The NJ Courier stated in 1879: “The population of the place, according to actual count, is 360 persons, about one-third of whom are children.”
The New Jersey Central Railroad came to Waretown in 1873 (Miller 397). It was a great boon to the town, connecting us to New York and Philadelphia. Waretown Junction was where the line joined the Tuckerton Railroad, (Beattie & Lopez), and trains were pushed to appropriate tracks on a large turntable (Stokely). This turntable wa located in Barnegat.
Many people still recall the excitement of waiting for the train to come in, when guests arrived for the hotels and the brown leather mail bag was picked up by the postmaster. Watching the train chug into the station was a guaranteed distraction for schoolchildren, much more interesting to watch through the schoolhouse windows than anything the teacher was doing.
The passengers all survived and made it safely to the beach. Since they were afraid of the Indians, they decided to press on immediately for New Amsterdam. Penelope’s husband, however, was so sick by this time that she was afraid to move him. The others went on, promising to send help back.
Not long after the others left, the brave young couple was attacked by a band of Indians and left for dead. Penelope survived, but she was severely wounded. She crawled into a hollow tree trunk for shelter (Stockton 58). A few days later, two other Indians found her. Penelope braced for the death blow. Instead, one of them picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. He carried her back to the Lenni-Lenape encampment, and made sure she was well taken care of.
The Lenni-Lenape, whose name meant “Original people,” were generally not warlike at all. In fact, they were often called the “grandmother tribe” because of their willingness to make peace.
Eventually, word of a white woman living with the Indians got back to New Amsterdam, and her former companions came back to rescue her. By this time, she had been adopted into the tribe and was treated very well. The Indians left it up to her to decide what to do. (Stockton 62).
Penelope chose to move to New Amsterdam, and later married an English settler named Richard Stout. She convinced him to sail across the bay to visit her Lenape friends. On seeing the area and meeting the Indians, it occurred to him that this would be the perfect place to plant a new settlement (Salter 13).
A few years later, he and eleven other men from Long Island, brought two large tracts of land from the Lenni Lenape Indians. They paid “188 fathoms of wampum, 1 shirt, 12 pounds of tobacco, 1 anker (sic) of wine, 11 coats, 3 pairs of breeches, 9 blankets, 45 yards of duffel cloth, and one gun,” along with gunpowder and shot (Salter 14 and 34). Many of the Indians wanted coats, but few had any use for pants. They said, “Indians’ legs like white man’s face, no want covering” (Salter 34).
The twelve Long Island men decided that since the area was a British colony, it would be wise to get a legal title from a representative of the King. Colonel Nicholls was the royal governor at the time, so they went to him, along with the Indian Chiefs they had purchased the land from, as proof it had been bought and paid for. Interestingly, New Jersey is one of the few states that can truthfully claim every foot of land was legally acquired from the Indians; nothing was stolen (Stockton 32).
As Governor Nicholls prepared to sign the document, now called the Monmouth Patent, the twelve men asked for one more thing: The wanted a pledge of unrestricted religious freedom for all who settled here. Most of them wer Quakers, and had suffered severe religious persecution in Puritan colonies.
The religious toleration clauses of the Monmouth Patent were made seventeen years before William Penn founded Philadelphia. It is an accident of history that he gets all the credit for coming up with the idea (Salter 15).
The Freedom of Religion guaranteed by the Monmouth Patent probably encouraged a little band of religious dissenters called the Rogerenes to come here. Named after their founder, John Rogers, they were also sometimes known as the Quaker-Baptists, since John Rogers agreed with the Quakers on pacifism and baptized by immersion. The Rogerenes had many beliefs that the Puritans called heresy.
First, the Rogerenes believed in complete equality between men and women. They hated slavery and wanted to see it abolished. They believed in peaceful co-existence with the Indians. They did not use alcohol or tobacco. They didn’t even take medicines, as they believed in divine healing.
John Rogers was born in New London, Connecticut. Although he was the son of a wealthy miller and baker, he lost his inheritance through fines imposed by the Puritans. He earned his living by making shoes.
As a young man, John Rogers began a serious study of the Bible. He felt that churches should be as much like the New Testament model as possible. He began baptizing his followers by immersion, which was against the law in Puritan Connecticut.
Rogers’ chief adversary was Governor Gurdon Saltonstall, who also happened to be the minister of the New London congregational church.
Rogerene records note dozens of instances of persecution; One Sunday, the Rogerenes gathered at eh New London Mill Cove for a baptismal service. Governor Saltonstall’s men suddenly swept out of the woods and dragged away twenty people. Men and women alike were stripped and flogged with ten stripes, including an expectant mother.
John Rogers really made enemies out of the Puritans when he said that Christians should be allowed to work on Sundays. This directly flew in the face of the old Puritan Blue Laws.
For making shoes on a Sunday, Rogers was tied to a cannon in the public square and given sixty lashes on his bare back with the county whip. Rogers stated, “I was hard at work making shoes on the first day of the week, and would have continued to do so, even if my shop was right under the magistrate’s window!” The record states that he was beaten until his back turned to jelly. The very hour Rogers was released, he went right back to teaching, preaching, and baptizing.
The Puritans also poured hot pitch into Rogerene Preachers’ mouths as they tried to speak, or over their faces and into their eyes.
Even the most famous so called “fact” about the Rogerenes was a lie spread to make their teachings look silly. Have you ever heard the story that the Rogerenes took knitting, whittling, or other work to their church services every Sunday? I’d heard it too, and even repeated it at the museum. But after reading a rare book written by two Rogerene leaders, I discovered it was another attempt by the Puritans to make the Rogerenes look ridiculous.
The real story was the Rogerenes were banned from having their own worship services, and they were threatened with jail for Sabbath breaking if they didn’t attend Governor Saltonstall’s established New London church. A group went to one Puritan service. At a signal, the men put on their hats and the women began to knit or sew. The point was a silent, yet very public protest against the Puritan Sabbath laws.
The Puritans also mocked the Rogerenes for their belief in divine healing. However, historical records prove the average Rogerene lived to be 70, 80, and 90, in an era when life expectancy was forty!
John Rogers himself died in 1721, at the age of 73. Abraham Waier, our town’s founder, died in 1768 at age 85. Governor Gurdon Saltonstall, Rogers; worst persecutor, a wealthy man who lived in luxury, died of apoplexy at 58. Go figure!
About twenty years after Rogers’ death, a small group of Rogerenes left New London. Abraham Waier was among them. They first went to a little place called Schooley’s Mountain, in Warren County, New Jersey. They stayed in Schooley’s Mountain about three years before going further south.
The Rogerenes arrived on our soil in 1739. A few scattered families were already here to greet them, but there was no formal town center. Lenni-Lenape Indians used the old Pancoast Road to visit the bayfront in summer, fishing and clamming in the nice weather, then retreating back inland to their wigwams in the fall.
Families who pre-dated the Rogerenes included the Birdsalls, Camburns, Sopers, and Falkenburghs. Many were Quakers, and they welcomed the newcomers, for as the Quakers say, “All humanity is our kin.”
These friendly locals allowed the Rogerenes to use their little white church/schoolhouse to hold worship services. Located at the site of Old Presbyterian Cemetery, it was a “free church” where all denominations could meet. Unfortunately, it burned to the ground in 1930.
The Birdsalls built ships at Shipyard Point, which was located approximately were the Long Key Marina is today. In this 1910 postcard you can see Birdsall’s Bridge, which was part of their property, over Waretown Creek.
Joseph Soper had another shipbuilding business in town called Soper’s Landing. It was located at the mouth of Lochiel Creek, on the border between Barnegat and Waretown. These two families sailed their ships up and down the Eastern Seaboard, selling locally harvested lumber, oysters, and charcoal. This was called the Coasting Trade. In a sense, they were the “long distance truckers’ of the day. There was a very good living to be made in this business, although there was risk, too. Several stones in our old cemeteries list “shipwreck” as a cause of death.
One of the oldest houses in Waretown was owned by the Falkenburghs. They were mariners in the coasting trade, settling here in 1732. The house still stands, containing two marble fireplace mantles which Amos Falkenburgh brought back from Italy on one of his voyages (Miller 89). The home is now on the National Register of Historic Places.
Soon after arriving in 1739, Abraham Waier built his gristmill. It was across the street from today’s library, in the woods by where the Waretown water tower is today. A dirt path behind the well drilling place leads to the site.
This painting of Waier’s Mill is based on the Old Mill of New London, Connecticut. It was built and operated by ancestors of the Rogerenes, so Abraham’s mill probably looked much like it. Waier’s Mill would have had an undershot wheel, as is shown in the painting, because our area is so low-lying.
Make sure you check out Abraham Waier’s original millstone in front of our museum. His mill ground grain and corn to make flour and meal. His millstones were extremely expensive and valuable. He brought them along when he left New London. They originally came from a quarry in New Hampshire, as proven by the distinctive white granite.
Abraham’s millstone was literally the foundation of Waretown. You see, Abraham was a rarity of the day—an honest miller. In those days, people didn’t pay cash to have a miller grind their grain. Instead, they gave the miller a portion of their flour. Some millers were notorious for having sneaky little ways of taking more than their fair share. They did things like building a square housing for the round millstones, making four “innocent” corners to collect extra grain. Some even went so far as to build secret spouts to siphon off more.
But Abraham Waier, with his strong religious principles, refused to cheat in any way. People knew they could trust him. Soon, they started coming from all over to have him grind their grain. He was called “an enterprising businessman and a most worthy Christian.” People started calling the place Waier’s Mill, which was later shortened to Waretown.
Waretown had its share of excitement during the Revolution, with many of our local men engaged in skirmishes on land and sea. Some served as soldiers with the Fifth Company of the Monmouth Militia, or Privateers on the bay and ocean, determined to disrupt British shipping. The Soper family shipyard and the Headley farm were raided on many occasions by loyalist outlaws, and several altercations took place on the Barnegat Bay. The massacre at Long Beach Island saw Reuben Soper killed by loyalist outlaws, along with two dozen other patriot privateers. They were caught unawares while sleeping on the beach, after capturing and unloading a stranded British ship (Salter 209-210). See the article on the Revolution for more details.
During the War of 1812, the Soper family was once again in the crosshairs of the British as Hezekiah and Timothy Soper’s ship Mary Elizabeth was burned by Commadore Hardy on Waretown’s bay front, along with another ship, the Greyhound. This caused a general scare for the entire population, who watched the flames from shore and then went home to hide their valuables. Captain Amos Birdsall had a run-in with Hardy, when the commodore seized his schooner, President (Salter 291-292).
Thankfully, they let Captain Birdsall go, and he was not impressed into the British navy.
As the nineteenth century progressed, life in Waretown stayed serenely the same for several generations. Most residents built their homes near the shore of the bay, on the rise of land just behind the salt meadows. Small dirt roads connected them to their bay front landings, and the larger “Main Shore Road” connected them to one another. Our seafaring families still built and operated their own ships. Sawmills dotted our streams, harvesting lumber for the coasting trade.
Ocean County was struck off from Monmouth in 1850, to accommodate our rising population, and to make the county seat closer for those in Egg Harbor and Tuckerton. Waretown’s Jacob Birdsall was behind this effort, and he became the first representative of Ocean County in the New Jersey Legislature.
Ocean Township itself, containing the towns of Waretown and Brookville, was created in 1876. Ocean Township was given its name because most of its inhabitants were sea captains. Our township’s boundaries literally extend right across Barnegat Bay, through the Inlet, and out to the Atlantic.
By the time of Ocean Township’s founding, Waretown stood on the brink of vast changes. When the Civil War ended in 1865, big steam powered ships fired by hard coal began to change the face of seagoing commerce. They were faster, larger, and cheaper to operate than wooden sailing ships. Since the larger, heavier steamships could not easily maneuver in our small, shallow bay, they moved on to bigger ports in larger harbors. Railroads also began replacing the coasting trade in getting goods to market.
This crucial turning point was recalled by Dr. John Newbury in 1937, as he spoke abut the Waretown of his boyhood. He said: “The shoreline [of the bay] was far different than it now appears…Waretown Harbor was filled with two and three-masted schooners…looking up and down [Main Street], we knew every house was [owned by] an active or retired sea captain.
There was Captain John Homes, Captain Enoch Jones, Captain Bill Burden, and Captain Jacob Birdsall. Captain William Warren was across the street [from us]…they were big men who knew ships, knew the sea, and who stayed in Waretown and Barnegat when the world left them behind.
As the age of speed came, there was only the coast guard and this business of taking out fishing parties left for them. {Bryant Road} went out into what is now deep water. There was room for a four-mule team, with a load of wood and charcoal, to turn around. Now, three rock piles offshore recall the old road” (Beck, More Forgotten Towns 324-325).
You can still see some of the large rocks, which “marked the old road,” here in the bay at low tide. They were used as ballast in the tall ships, providing weight and stability when they were empty of cargo.
In the “high tide” of Victorian Waretown, we can peek through the mists of history to glimpse our coastal village, nestled between the Pine Barrens and the bay, linked by the ocean to the world at large. Everyone knew everyone else—in fact, many are still related through complicated webs going back generations. The NJ Courier stated in 1879: “The population of the place, according to actual count, is 360 persons, about one-third of whom are children.”
The New Jersey Central Railroad came to Waretown in 1873 (Miller 397). It was a great boon to the town, connecting us to New York and Philadelphia. Waretown Junction was where the line joined the Tuckerton Railroad, (Beattie & Lopez), and trains were pushed to appropriate tracks on a large turntable (Stokely). This turntable wa located in Barnegat.
Many people still recall the excitement of waiting for the train to come in, when guests arrived for the hotels and the brown leather mail bag was picked up by the postmaster. Watching the train chug into the station was a guaranteed distraction for schoolchildren, much more interesting to watch through the schoolhouse windows than anything the teacher was doing.
The station shown here was built in 1895, and the photo was taken around 1910. You can just make out Franklin Eayre, the stationmaster, standing near the tracks. It was located on the corner of Route 9 and Wells Mills Road, where the real estate office is today.
Passenger service to Waretown ended in 1953, and the freight service ended in 1970. The last train through town was a fan trip on March 5, 1972 (Stokely). In later years, the train station was moved off site, and became a private home. Today, what is left of the line belongs to Conrail. It is dormant below Lakehurst (Staples). Keep these facts in mind as you walk the Rail Trail today, the corridor where the tracks once ran.
As the age of sail came to a close, many of Waretown’s old sea captains felt like the world moved on and left them behind. Then a new avenue of trade opened up, uniquely suited to their expertise. City dwellers with disposable income hired them for access to our fine local hunting and fishing sites. Listen to this paragraph from a tourist guide in 1889:
“Barnegat Bay is all sport. In summer, hundreds of little vessels scud over its waters to the fishing-grounds near the inlet; and of the early mornings in winter, the figures of gunners may be seen dimly outlined against the gray horizon, {rowing} their sneak-boxes to some sedgy point or island…There is an amusing rivalry between the different places along the bay shore for pre-eminence as sporting headquarters, especially between Forked River, Waretown and Barnegat, {because] the best fishing-grounds and shooting points are in the vicinity…In fact, Waretown is the most favorably located of the three for fishing excursions, because there a tongue of solid ground penetrates the salt meadows to the edge of the bay, and the landing is within a few minutes of the railroad station” (Kobbé 64-66).
Passenger service to Waretown ended in 1953, and the freight service ended in 1970. The last train through town was a fan trip on March 5, 1972 (Stokely). In later years, the train station was moved off site, and became a private home. Today, what is left of the line belongs to Conrail. It is dormant below Lakehurst (Staples). Keep these facts in mind as you walk the Rail Trail today, the corridor where the tracks once ran.
As the age of sail came to a close, many of Waretown’s old sea captains felt like the world moved on and left them behind. Then a new avenue of trade opened up, uniquely suited to their expertise. City dwellers with disposable income hired them for access to our fine local hunting and fishing sites. Listen to this paragraph from a tourist guide in 1889:
“Barnegat Bay is all sport. In summer, hundreds of little vessels scud over its waters to the fishing-grounds near the inlet; and of the early mornings in winter, the figures of gunners may be seen dimly outlined against the gray horizon, {rowing} their sneak-boxes to some sedgy point or island…There is an amusing rivalry between the different places along the bay shore for pre-eminence as sporting headquarters, especially between Forked River, Waretown and Barnegat, {because] the best fishing-grounds and shooting points are in the vicinity…In fact, Waretown is the most favorably located of the three for fishing excursions, because there a tongue of solid ground penetrates the salt meadows to the edge of the bay, and the landing is within a few minutes of the railroad station” (Kobbé 64-66).
The Bayview Hotel was the biggest and fanciest in town, lasting from 1890 until it burned to the ground in 1960. It housed 50 guests and contained a restaurant and bar. It also had an elegant grand staircase in the lobby. Built by Jacob H. Birdsall (Jacob’s son) with his profits from the coasting trade, it was the right place at the right time to capitalize on Waretown’s new tourist industry. Babe Ruth, Grover Cleveland, and Buffalo Bill Cody were amongst those who visited Waretown back in the day.
Jacob H. Birdsall also invested in the cranberry industry in Waretown, creating a prosperous cranberry bog that was later sold to the Corliss family, who also operated it for many years. Finally, Ruth Corliss gave it to the town for a recreation area. You know it today as the Waretown Lake at Corliss Park.
Tom Stackhouse’s Atlantic House was another tourist hotel. It was located across the street from Waretown Methodist Church, where their parking lot is today. The Stackhouse name is an old one in Waretown. Born in 1861, Captain Stackhouse went to sea at twelve, shipping lumber on the schooner Eva Holmes. Tom survived the shipwreck when the Eva Holmes piled up on Hatteras in 1881 in a huge storm. Later, he made frequent trips around Cape Horn to San Francisco. When he retired from the sea, he built the 35 foot yacht Geneva, and made a living taking fishing parties out from Waretown.
Jacob H. Birdsall also invested in the cranberry industry in Waretown, creating a prosperous cranberry bog that was later sold to the Corliss family, who also operated it for many years. Finally, Ruth Corliss gave it to the town for a recreation area. You know it today as the Waretown Lake at Corliss Park.
Tom Stackhouse’s Atlantic House was another tourist hotel. It was located across the street from Waretown Methodist Church, where their parking lot is today. The Stackhouse name is an old one in Waretown. Born in 1861, Captain Stackhouse went to sea at twelve, shipping lumber on the schooner Eva Holmes. Tom survived the shipwreck when the Eva Holmes piled up on Hatteras in 1881 in a huge storm. Later, he made frequent trips around Cape Horn to San Francisco. When he retired from the sea, he built the 35 foot yacht Geneva, and made a living taking fishing parties out from Waretown.
As the age of sail gave way to engines, Captain Stackhouse would not switch. He said, “No sight equals that of a ship under full sail—it makes a fellow think he must be up and going” (NJ Courier, 3/7/1933). He continued into his seventies, when he turned the Geneva over to his son, Leon, who became a well known and trusted guide in his own right.
The Acacia House Hotel began as the private home of Captain Jacob H. Birdsall, who had made his fortune in the coasting trade. The Widow’s Walk was built for his wife Emeline, so she could watch out over the water for her husband’s return. After the Birdsalls moved to Florida, the house was acquired by the family of another sea captain. He and his wife turned the place into a bed and breakfast (Beattie & Lopez). Sadly, this beautiful Victorian home was torn down in the early 1960s by the developers of Skipper’s Cove. Waretown Library stands on the site today.
The Acacia House Hotel began as the private home of Captain Jacob H. Birdsall, who had made his fortune in the coasting trade. The Widow’s Walk was built for his wife Emeline, so she could watch out over the water for her husband’s return. After the Birdsalls moved to Florida, the house was acquired by the family of another sea captain. He and his wife turned the place into a bed and breakfast (Beattie & Lopez). Sadly, this beautiful Victorian home was torn down in the early 1960s by the developers of Skipper’s Cove. Waretown Library stands on the site today.
Our Little Red Schoolhouse Museum is a replica of the one built in 1875, originally located where the first aid building is today. At first, it had one room. The vestibule in front was a cloakroom, which rose up to the belfry tower. Eight grades were housed in that one room. Wooden benches stood in rows on either side of a pot-bellied stove. Girls on one side, boys on the other.
Several renovations took place between 1890 and the early 1900s. A primary room was added for the younger children and desks were purchased. The belfry was replaced with a small bell tower. The school also got its familiar coat of red paint. The Red Schoolhouse educated Waretown’s children for 83 years, until the town outgrew it.
Today’s Waretown Elementary School on Railroad Avenue opened in 1958. The Little Red Schoolhouse was torn down around 1970 to make way for the first aid building. Our Little Red Schoolhouse museum is a faithful reproduction built by volunteers for the Waretown Historical Society, right down to the original school bell hanging in the tower. With an amazing amount of public support, we held an old-fashioned “barn-raising’ in 2004. Many of the construction materials were donated by US Homes, as they built Greenbriar.
The purpose of the Waretown Historical Society is to preserve historical and genealogical information for future generations. We are also committed to preserving old buildings, antiques, and artifacts. The Little Red Schoolhouse Museum is our meeting place and center of operations. Local residents have generously contributed artifacts for our exhibits and displays, representing all eras of Waretown’s history.
The bulk of our efforts are now directed towards establishing educational programs, exhibits, tours, and lectures, for people of all ages. In keeping with our commitment to education, we offer two scholarships to graduates of Southern Regional High School, who came from the Waretown Elementary School District. We raise funds for two $1,000 scholarships presented each June, to one male and one female student.
Our meetings are held at the Museum on the third Monday of every month at 7:30pm. Please come and join us!
Several renovations took place between 1890 and the early 1900s. A primary room was added for the younger children and desks were purchased. The belfry was replaced with a small bell tower. The school also got its familiar coat of red paint. The Red Schoolhouse educated Waretown’s children for 83 years, until the town outgrew it.
Today’s Waretown Elementary School on Railroad Avenue opened in 1958. The Little Red Schoolhouse was torn down around 1970 to make way for the first aid building. Our Little Red Schoolhouse museum is a faithful reproduction built by volunteers for the Waretown Historical Society, right down to the original school bell hanging in the tower. With an amazing amount of public support, we held an old-fashioned “barn-raising’ in 2004. Many of the construction materials were donated by US Homes, as they built Greenbriar.
The purpose of the Waretown Historical Society is to preserve historical and genealogical information for future generations. We are also committed to preserving old buildings, antiques, and artifacts. The Little Red Schoolhouse Museum is our meeting place and center of operations. Local residents have generously contributed artifacts for our exhibits and displays, representing all eras of Waretown’s history.
The bulk of our efforts are now directed towards establishing educational programs, exhibits, tours, and lectures, for people of all ages. In keeping with our commitment to education, we offer two scholarships to graduates of Southern Regional High School, who came from the Waretown Elementary School District. We raise funds for two $1,000 scholarships presented each June, to one male and one female student.
Our meetings are held at the Museum on the third Monday of every month at 7:30pm. Please come and join us!
