THE DRAWBRIDGE. 267 



bend. Scarcely had the boat rippled the flood-tide of 

 the glittering waters when I checked its course, and 

 from my point of view in mid-stream gazed npon an 

 ancient bridge that here spans the creek. It is an un- 

 couth structure that the close-fisted freeholders of that 

 day saw fit to build sixty years ago ; and the farmers 

 finding no name so easy as that learned in their child- 

 hood, called it the " drawbridge," as though it was but 

 a second edition of the open structure that preceded it, 

 and which had a " draw " in it for the accommodation of 

 those masted vessels that, as we have seen, passed far 

 up the creek. I wish heartily that the Quaker settlers 

 who dwelt here had handed down some pretty romance 

 or details of some bloody tragedy concerning this earlier 

 bridge. It certainly was old enough when, in 1827, it 

 was removed, to have a thrilling history, and in a spot 

 romantic enough to have made poets of some of the 

 sturdy youths who for years were accustomed to pass to 

 and fro over its oaken planks. 



I might, indeed, fearless of contradiction, have purpled 

 the stream with the blood of innocents, and peopled the 

 woods hard by with headless ghosts ; but alas ! just here, 

 colonial days were days of colorless prose, nothing more 

 exciting than the arrival of a travelling preacher — John 

 "Woolman or Thomas Chalkley — ever causing the Cross- 

 wicks Friends to so much as raise their eyebrows. 



But why, it may be asked, is there a bridge here at 

 all ? Let us go back to even earlier than colonial times. 

 On Lindstrom's map, 1654, the surveyor caused to be 

 printed, besides the various Indian names, certain inter- 

 esting facts ; and at the mouth of this creek, " Mechan- 



