Folks:
I think Mark is on to something with his analysis of Munion Field. As a toponym, it does not appear until the 1865 road return referenced in Doc Bisbee’s book, Sign Posts. I hope to obtain a copy of that road return in the near future. Munion Field does not appear as a label on the 1849 or the 1859 map of Burlington County. The latter map, however, does include the label “Watering Place” at the end of Governor’s Branch of Westecunk Creek:
Combine this with the old name for the road passing Munion Field—Martha-Oswego Road—and it makes perfect sense that Munion Field served as a stopping point, and maybe a provisioning location, for the colliers working to supply Martha Furnace with its insatiable appetite for charcoal. Here is a detail from the 1942 USGS topo showing Munion Field and the road names:
In reviewing Bisbee’s version of the Martha Furnace Diary, there are two members of the Lemunion (and all of its spelling permutations!) family working for Martha: David and John. While Bisbee’s lists in the back of the book feature both men as colliers in 1809, only David appears as a collier in the actual diary. So, Munion field could very well have belonged to either David or John, but a bit of title work will be needed to confirm this posit. With the Watering Place nearby, as well as the headwaters of Shord’s Mill Brook, the teamsters on the coal-boxes would have the opportunity to water their horses. I should also point out that a John Munyon Jr. operated a tavern down in Gloucester County, so it is possible that he or his father, perhaps the John that worked for Martha, operated an unlicensed jug tavern at Munion Field. By 1870, David Lemunion resided in Stafford Township, Ocean County, and died there circa 1877.
In the 1900 edition of the Proceedings of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, C.G. Saunders published an article titled, “The Pine Barrens of New Jersey.” In the article, we find the following passage:
A forty-mile trip in midsummer across the Pine Barrens has drawbacks enough to make even the most enthusiastic flower-lover think twice before entering upon it. The sands are heavy, the flies and ticks and mosquitoes are numerous, the heat is excessive, springs are few and far between, and forest fires are apt to be at their devastating work in the very place to be visited. However, we decided to chance these things, and on the evening of July 3, 1899, found ourselves landed at an old-fashioned hotel at Tuckerton, and bargaining with a resident South Jerseyman—half farmer, half sportsman, and altogether a pioneersman, to use his own expression—for a team to take us across to Atsion with board and lodgingenroute,and the next morning bright and early we were jogging along the road that leads from Tuckerton northwest toward the Lower Plains.
Mile after mile of oak and pine barrens were passed without sign of human habitation, and when five miles were registered we came to the spot which is marked upon the maps as Munyon Field, Here, in old times, had been a house, and a family had lived here, scratching some sort of a living from the sand and fattening hogs on the abundant mast which strewed the ground under the little chinquapin oaks. Now no vestige of human occupation remains save a little clearing which is rapidly filling up with wildingsfrom the surrounding forest, prominent among them that characteristic primrose of the Pine Barrens, Oenothera siuuata L.
Good sleuthing, Mark. I’ll save the debate over “North Jersey” and “South Jersey” for another time!
Best regards,
Jerseyman