A 
JOURNEY 
TO 
THE LAND OF EDEN: 
IN THE YEAR 1733. 
September 1 1th. Having recommended my family to the protection of the 
Almighty, I crossed the river with two servants and four horses, and rode to 
Col. Mumford’s. There I met my friend, Mr. Banister, who was to be the 
kind companion of my travels. I stayed dinner with the good colonel, while 
Mr. Banister made the best of his way home, to get his equipage ready, in 
order to join me the next day. After dining plentifully, and wishing all that 
was good to the household, I proceeded to major Mumford’s, who had also 
appointed to go along with me. I was the more obliged to him, because he 
made me the compliment to leave the arms of a pretty wife, to lie on the cold 
ground for my sake. She seemed to chide me with her eyes, for coming to 
take her bedfellow from her, now the cold weather came on, and to make 
my peace, I was forced to promise to take an abundance of care of him, in 
order to restore him safe and sound to her embraces. 
12th. After the major had cleared his pipes, in calling with much authority 
about him, he made a shift to truss up his baggage about nine o’clock. Near 
the same hour my old friend and fellow traveller, Peter Jones, came to us 
completely accoutred. Then 'we fortified ourselves with a beef-steak, kissed 
our landlady for good luck, and mounted about ten. The major took one 
Robin Bolling with him, as squire of his body, as well as conductor of his 
baggage. Tom Short had promised to attend me, but had married ^ wife 
and could not come. We crossed Hatcher’s run. Gravelly run. Stony creek, 
and in the distance of about twenty miles reached Sapponi chapel, where 
Mr. Banister joined us. Thus agreeably reinforced we proceeded ten miles 
further, to major Em^bry’s, on the south side of Nottoway river. The major 
was ill of a purging and vomiting, attended with a fever which had brought 
him low ; but I prescribed him a gallon or two of chicken broth, which washed 
him as clean as a gun, and quenched his fever. Here major Mayo met us, well 
equipped for a march into the woods, bringing a surveyor’s tent, that would 
shelter a small troop. Young Tom Jones also repaired hither to make his ex- 
cuse ; but old Tom Jones, by the privilege of his age, neither came nor sent, so 
that we were not so strong as we intended, being disappointed of three of our 
ablest foresters. The entertainment we met with was the less sumptuous by 
reason of our landlord’s indisposition. On this occasion we were as little trou- 
blesome as possible, by sending part of our company to Richard Birch’s, who 
lives just by the bridge over the river. We sent for an old Indian called 
Shacco-Will, living about seven miles off, who reckoned himself seventy- 
eight years old. This fellow pretended he could conduct us to a silver mine, 
