Journal of Jasper Danckaerts, 1679-1680

In Short

This journal documents the 1679–1680 journey of Jasper Danckaerts, a member of the Labadist religious sect, who traveled from the Netherlands to the American colonies to scout a potential site for a communal refuge. His account is a rare, detailed artifact of the Dutch colonial experience, capturing the geography, social dynamics, and religious life of New York, Long Island, and the Delaware River region. Danckaerts’ voice is distinctive—observant, impatient, and deeply spiritual—providing a window into the daily realities of frontier life. It has endured as an essential source for historians because of its precise descriptions of colonial settlements and the candid, often judgmental reflections of a stranger viewing the New World.

The Story

The narrative begins in the Netherlands, where Danckaerts, accompanied by his fellow Labadist Peter Sluyter, prepares for a transatlantic crossing. The journey is fraught with the delays and anxieties common to 17th-century sea travel; the reader experiences their frustration with waiting for winds, the precariousness of navigating sandbars, and the claustrophobia of life on the ship Charles. Throughout the voyage, Danckaerts displays a relentless curiosity, recording the behavior of the crew, the atmospheric changes at sea, and even the "gay" behavior of a ship’s cat, which he interprets as an omen of approaching land.

Upon arriving at the bustling port of New York, the perspective shifts to the vibrant, chaotic reality of a colonial city under English rule. Danckaerts does not romanticize what he finds. Instead, he explores the layout of Fort Amsterdam, visits the neighboring villages of Brooklyn, Flatlands, and Harlem, and critiques the local ministers and social customs he encounters. He is a man with a singular purpose: to secure a future for his religious community. He acts as a barber to make ends meet and travels extensively, using his sharp eye to assess the quality of the soil, the layout of the farms, and the temperament of the people.

The arc of the travelogue takes the two men southward through New Jersey and into Maryland. Along the way, Danckaerts’ tone often turns severe. He frequently expresses disdain for the "worldly" behavior of the Quakers he meets and grows frustrated with the lack of hospitality or the perceived ignorance of the local ministers. He spends significant time with the influential Augustine Herrman in Maryland, recording the decay of Herrman’s estate and his complicated family life with a mixture of pity and moral disapproval.

As the journal progresses, the reader follows their grueling attempts to secure transport through the wilderness, often relying on the kindness of strangers or the "providence of the Lord" when faced with impassable rivers or lack of guides. He encounters the indigenous populations and records his observations on their situation, noting the hardships they faced at the hands of the encroaching English settlers.

Finally, the journey concludes with the return voyage to Europe. The threat of conflict—seen in a moment of high tension when the ship encounters mysterious vessels they fear are pirates—provides a final burst of drama. Danckaerts returns home to the Netherlands, where he is welcomed back by his community. The narrative ends not with a grand conclusion, but with a quiet, heartfelt prayer of gratitude for their safe return, closing a chapter that functioned as a vital, if idiosyncratic, reconnaissance mission for the Labadist cause.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins Danckaerts details the tedious preparations and the physical reality of the sea crossing. He captures the tension on board, from the constant threat of running aground to the superstitious fears of the passengers.

Arrival in the New World The travelers reach the coast, marked by their sighting of Sandy Hook and the arrival of Indians alongside their ship. They land in New York, where they immediately begin mapping the social and physical landscape of the colony.

Exploration of the settlements The narrative moves through the Dutch-influenced villages of Long Island and the Hudson Valley. Danckaerts acts as a critical ethnographer, commenting on the local churches, the quality of life, and the political tensions between the English governors and the established Dutch inhabitants.

Journey to the South The men trek through New Jersey and Maryland, encountering Quakers, Swedish settlers, and colonial landowners. The focus shifts toward land potential, the logistics of travel, and the difficulties of navigating a frontier that is often indifferent to their needs.

Return and reflection The journal concludes with the return to Europe and a reunion with their community. The final entries emphasize the spiritual relief of being back home, underscored by the same observant, detail-oriented style that defined the start of their journey.

The People

Jasper Danckaerts is the primary architect of this account. He is a man of intellectual rigor and intense religious conviction, searching for a place where his community can exist in isolation from the "worldly" influences of European society. His judgment is swift and often harsh; he expects a standard of piety that few around him meet, which sets him apart from both the colonial authorities and the ordinary settlers he encounters.

Peter Sluyter accompanies Danckaerts throughout the trip. While Sluyter remains a secondary figure in the narrative, he serves as Danckaerts’ constant companion and sounding board. Their bond is rooted in their shared mission, and they navigate the logistical and physical hardships of the frontier as a unit.

Augustine Herrman appears as a figure of fading grandeur in the Maryland section. Once a powerful and influential man, he is portrayed by Danckaerts as a broken, aging figure, trapped in an unhappy marriage and surrounded by the physical decline of his estate. Danckaerts views him with a complicated mix of respect for his past and pity for his current isolation.

The colonial ministers and local figures, such as the "poor, old, ignorant" Domine Schaets, serve as foils to Danckaerts. He measures their worth by their theological clarity and personal morality, frequently finding them lacking. Through these interactions, Danckaerts reveals more about his own rigid, uncompromising worldview than perhaps he intended.

In Its Own Voice

"The innkeepers took us to be farmers of the revenue, especially of brandies, and supposed our presence there was to prevent their smuggling, as they themselves told us."

Danckaerts describes how his group’s arrival in a small town caused suspicion and misunderstandings among the local innkeepers.

"The Roman Catholics, as they declared, looked upon us as priests; the Mennonists, as a class of their exhorters; and the ordinary Reformed, as preachers; whereby they all showed they did not know us in truth, according to the word in Christ Jesus."

He reflects on the various ways local religious groups misidentified their sect, illustrating his sense of isolation as a religious outsider.

What It's Really About

At its core, this journal is a study of the conflict between an ideal and a reality. Danckaerts is searching for an earthly paradise for his sect, yet every location he visits is already marked by the messiness of colonial life: land disputes, political corruption, and the erosion of religious fervor. The book explores the tension between the "sacred" life the Labadists hope to establish and the "profane" world of colonial trade, governance, and social friction. It also touches upon the theme of observation—how a traveler from a sophisticated European culture interprets a frontier society. Danckaerts constantly weighs what he sees against a mental map of what "should" be, making the book a compelling argument about the difficulty of maintaining purity in a colonial setting. It is, ultimately, a record of the struggle to maintain identity in an expansive, often hostile, new landscape.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy primary sources—those raw, unfiltered glimpses into the past—will find this journal endlessly fascinating. It lacks the polish of a modern history book, but it compensates with a startling immediacy. Danckaerts is a grumpy, brilliant, and deeply human narrator; he does not try to be charming, and that is precisely why his observations feel so honest. You get the sense of the dampness of the houses, the anxiety of a sea storm, and the frustration of waiting for a ferry in a world without modern infrastructure.

However, the book requires patience. It is long, and for the casual reader, the minute details regarding land titles, local clergymen, and Dutch geography can be dense. Furthermore, the period attitudes Danckaerts expresses—his prejudices toward the Quakers, his moralizing tone, and his Eurocentric view of the American landscape—are products of his time and will challenge a contemporary reader.

Read this if you want to understand the texture of the 17th century. It is not a book to be devoured in one sitting, but rather a travel companion that invites you to walk through the muddy streets of old New York and the sprawling plantations of the Chesapeake. What stays with you is the voice of a man who traveled across an ocean to find the perfect place for his people, only to find the world everywhere—fragmented, imperfect, and relentlessly, vibrantly alive.