“So you’re from New Jersey — what exit?”
New Jersey and New Jerseyans take a lot of ribbing. Even during the devastating Hurricane Sandy, Twitter couldn’t resist a dig, with one joking “NJ weather alert. In the event of an emergency, find Chris Christie and hold on.”
The obvious question is: Why? Why aren’t we making zingers about, say, Connecticut? What made Jersey a national punchline?
Turns out that, sadly, there’s a long and sordid history of poking fun at New Jersey.
Take the historic city of Perth Amboy, situated on one of the best deepwater harbors on the eastern seaboard. Settled by Scottish proprietors in the 1680s, it has a name unique in the annals of geography. Perth is clearly derived from the City of Perth, once the ancient capital of Scotland. Amboy is a bit more curious and probably represents a Native American word meaning “level ground.”
But one fanciful story has it that the name came about when an inquisitive Native American questioned a Scottish settler’s masculinity; the settler was wearing a kilt. The insulted Scotsman soon laid aside any doubts about his manhood by raising his kilt and stating, unequivocally, “Perth Am Boy!”
Another off-color historical joke relating to New Jersey has to do with a colonial painting hanging at the New-York Historical Society. To the untutored eye, it appears to depict a well-dressed if rather plain middle-aged woman. However, its frame is clearly labeled “Edward Hyde Lord Cornbury.” Lord Cornbury was governor of both New Jersey and New York and a cousin of Queen Anne. He was not a popular civil servant. Indeed, one contemporary described him as “a mean liar, a vulgar profligate, a frivolous spendthrift, an impudent cheat, a fraudulent, bankrupt and a detestable bigot.”
Even in the rough-and-tumble world of New Jersey politics, those were fighting words. But did Lord Cornbury really dress in drag for a formal portrait? Most historians would say no. The painting is most likely of an anonymous early American woman, the label the work of Cornbury’s political enemies.
One of the first known Jersey jokers was none other than Benjamin Franklin, whose talented son William was the last Royal Governor of New Jersey. As editor of the Pennsylvania Gazette, Benjamin Franklin published a pair of articles about witches in Mount Holly, NJ. Mount Holly, is the county seat of Burlington County, and was once home to numerous Quakers. According to the first article, these witches had mysterious powers and had been accused of making “Sheep dance in an uncommon manner and with causing hogs to speak and sing psalms, etc., to the great Terror and Amazement of the King’s good and peaceable Subjects in this Province.”
The accused witches were brought forward and forced to undergo an ordeal. First they were weighed on a scale against a great Bible. The thought was that the weighty word of God would outweigh the sinful witches. The test was unsuccessful. According to the article, “To the great surprise of the spectators, flesh and bones came down plump and outweighed the great good Book by an abundance.”
A second attempt was made to identify the miscreants by placing them bound hand and foot in the local millpond, the theory being that the witches would float. Curiously, both accused and accusers floated lightly upon the water, leaving the case in limbo. It is clear that the story was not true. Franklin the savvy newspaperman probably saw a story about the rural hicks in New Jersey as a good way to sell papers and entertain his readers. He is also credited with a much-used line about the state claiming that New Jersey was like a barrel tapped at both ends losing the best of its beer to New York and Philadelphia.
Herein lies the probable roots of Jersey mockery. As cosmopolitan New York and Philadelphia grew, New Jersey was stereotyped even in Colonial times as a rural backwater.
More than a century after Franklin, mocking the rubes was still in fashion — as Orson Welles discovered on Oct. 30, 1938. His “War of the Worlds” broadcast convinced many listeners that Martians had landed at Grover’s Mill near Princeton, and were marching across the countryside.
Of course, New Jersey hasn’t helped itself much. Television mobsters, arrested politicians, and tales of political corruption have reinforced an undeserved reputation.
Yet consider the New Jerseyans who have made this country great. George Washington during much of the American Revolution, Woodrow Wilson, Dorothea Dix, Thomas Edison, Frank Hague, Albert Einstein and Bruce Springsteen all called the Garden State home.
The state’s response to Sandy, meanwhile, has been one of courage and resilience. And if Snooki and her reality-show brethren prove anything, it’s that New Jersey is strong enough to make fun of itself.
Perhaps it’s time we showed it a little respect.
Monmouth University history professor Richard Veit is co-editor of “New Jersey: A History of the Garden State” (Rutgers University Press), out now.