The wild river odyssey of Solebury's Quaker George

I’m surprised there isn’t a ballad about George B. Fell. There ought to be. What he survived on the Delaware River defies belief.

I came across his story purely by chance a few weeks ago. My intention was to write about historic winter freshets. That’s when a sudden temperature rise melts snow and ice, sending a rush of fresh water downstream. From an ancient newspaper, I discovered a snippet about George and the freshet of 1841. Fell family documents and other sources filled in the gaps.

George, 47, was a Quaker farmer from Solebury who was subbing for the toll collector at the Centre Bridge covered span that January 8. Due to begin his shift at 11 a.m., he was unaware of what was happening far upstream.

Substantial snow and ice had accumulated at the headwaters of the 282-mile-long, free-flowing river. Unusual warming caused a monumental freshet. According to the Star newspaper in Frenchtown, N.J., the unfolding disaster began with “the roaring of the water” drawing hundreds of residents to the riverbank. They watched incredulously as large chunks of ice, houses, barns, out-buildings, logs, boats, furniture, bodies of horses, cattle, hogs and sheep careened by ― plus a coffin.

Fourteen miles downstream at Centre Bridge, George and nephew Henry were crossing to New Jersey to the tollhouse when George stopped to view the river. Just then the freshet hit with fury. Half the span collapsed with George inside. “Fearing danger from crushing timbers overhead, and seeing a portion of the roof floating near him, Mr. Fell succeeded with the aid of a plank in reaching it and freed himself from the main body of the bridge,” according to the Star. He now was in a whirl of timber and ice, unable to reach shore.

Henry escaped the collapse, ran ashore in New Jersey, mounted a horse and dashed toward Lambertville, sounding the alarm to save his uncle who couldn’t swim. Henry flagged Hiram Scarborough who attempted a rescue in his rowboat. By then, the river was nearly up to the underside of the covered bridge to New Hope. George lay flat on his plank, passing beneath. Scarborough in the trailing boat ducked with just enough room to get under.

Behind them Centre Bridge loomed in “terrible grandeur”, the Star reported. “One of the two pieces struck about midway with an awful crash, passed through and carried away one of the arches of the bridge. The other soon followed and took with it another arch. The pier gave way, and the third arch followed. Thus one-half of that structure, which had stood freshets for nearly 30 years had been suddenly carried away.”

Scarborough turned back as George disappeared over Wells Falls at the lower edge of town. Clinging with all his might to driftwood, he survived the rapids and continued another 7 miles to the covered bridge at Washington Crossing (the former Taylorsville). There water was up to the framing, forcing George to submerge and pop up on the other side where he snagged more planking. Behind him the bridge collapsed. George stayed afloat on the crest, his nephew galloping ahead 5 miles to the covered bridge to Yardley (then known as Yardleyville). He crossed over and watched helplessly with onlookers as George passed under ahead of timber from Centre Bridge, New Hope and Washington Crossing that demolished half of the structure. George faded from sight heading for the treacherous Falls of the Delaware at Morrisville. Henry managed to alert Yardley fisherman Edward Nickleson. With enough “daring to the extreme”, according to a Fell family account, he braved the rush of icebergs, jagged timber and the threat of the falls to catch up to George a few miles downstream, pulling him to safety in Lower Makefield.

Cold, exhausted and bruised, he came ashore where his nephew rushed to his side. He rested a bit, then rode with Henry back to New Hope to “the most extravagant demonstrations of joy by the citizens who immediately announced his safety and fired a cannon which was responded to from the opposite shore in the most clamorous shouts and cheers from the joyous multitude,” the Star reported. “Mr. Fell being satisfied that his friends were apprised of his safety, retired to bed and took a refreshing sleep and then returned to his home where he was anxiously received by his family.”

The Doylestown Democrat newspaper declared George’s “escape in passing under so many bridges, with the water running so near to the woodwork, and surrounded on every side by large masses of ice driving in every direction was truly remarkable.”

Unfortunately, George never seemed quite the same afterward, according to his family. He passed away two years later with burial at the Quaker cemetery in Solebury. His wild ride on the Delaware remained to be told and retold down through the generations ― for me to find.

Sources include “Destructive Freshet” published in the Doylestown Democrat on Jan. 10, 1841; “Flood Destroyed Bridges, Took Stockton Toll Taker on Wild Ride” on the web https://rickepstein.wixsite.com/frenchtownnjtours/post/flood-destroyed-bridges-took-stockton-toll-taker-on-wild-ride; “The History of Bucks County Pennsylvania” by W.W.H. Davis published in 1876, and “Genealogy of the Fell Family in America” by Sarah M. Fell published in 1891. Thumbs up to Joseph F. Donnelly of the Delaware River Joint Toll Bridge Commission and Kate Schmidt of the Delaware River Basin Commission for providing historical photos, and Judy, Pam, Russell and Wendy of the Archive Team at the Solebury Historical Society for invaluable help. Here’s hoping the team gets to work on that ballad.

Carl LaVO can be reached at carllavo0@gmail.com

This article originally appeared on Bucks County Courier Times: Tale of a Solebury farmer inside a covered bridge when it collapsed.