Front Matter The Name of My City My Own Name Why We Went to London Bound for America On Board Ship Unknown Country The End of the Voyage Going Ashore Our First Shelter A Tedious Task Our Cave Home Completed How We Kept House Savages Come to Town What the Savages Wore Game in Plenty Sea Food News of the Factor Arrival of the Amity Going to Meet the Factor A Tiresome Journey Meeting Old Friends Roasting Turkeys Turning an Honest Penny A Place for the City Building the City A Bear Hunt The New Home Penn's Care for Colonists The First Baby How the Indians Live Indian Utensils and Tools Canoes of Bark Making Wampum The Beehive Huts Finishing the Cure Starting a Fire Cooking Indian Corn News of Penn's Arrival Our Humble Preparations The Welcome to Penn A Day of Festivities Penn Joins in the Sports More Serious Business What a Bake Oven Is Baking in the New Oven Penn Plans to Buy Land Penn and the Indians The Price Paid for Land Gratitude of the Indians Trapping Wild Turkeys New Arrivals Government by the People The Promise of a School Dock Creek Bridge The Nail Business Buying Iron in New York No Merrymaking after Dark Busy Days Enoch Flower's School End of Our School Days Settlement of Germantown New Laws in Our Own Town A Division of Opinion A Matter of History Boundary Lines The Governor's Following A Proud Departure The Settlement of Chester Dining in State Anchored off New Castle An Uncomfortable Night A Dull Journey In Lord Baltimore's City A Splendid Home A Question of Duty Amy of Maryland The Shops of Maryland The Result of the Visit Philadelphia Progresses Penn Goes Back to London

Stephen of Philadelphia - James Otis

The Name of My City

Twice in the course of my life have I been in the city of London, and though I may never go there again, it will ever remain in my mind as a bewildering collection of houses and shops. I shall think of it as even more of a wilderness than can be found in this land of America, where, by the grace of God, I count to spend the remainder of the days allotted me on this earth in thankfulness, because of having been numbered among those who began the building of the city of Philadelphia.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

I am told that among the settlements laid out by the Massachusetts Bay Colony, is one called Salem, which means peace, and verily it is a fitting name for a town where the people desire the peace of this world more than anything to be hoped for, save that peace which passeth all understanding.

But to my mind, the name of our town, Philadelphia, goes way beyond that of Salem, for its meaning is brotherly love, and if such be practised among us, then does it follow that peace will come without a question, since love driveth out fear, and the absence of fear is the peace of this world.

My Own Name

It is a long distance from London in England to our Philadelphia in America, and if I am to show, as is my purpose, how my visit to the larger city led me to help build up the smaller, then is it wise that I explain somewhat concerning myself, even though those who shall read what I here set down, have no care whatsoever as to whether I be white or black, halt or blind, young or old.

I was born in that city of England called Bristol, and my father's name is also mine. Stephen these good people call him, and in order that there may be no mistake as to which of us is meant when I am spoken of, they refer to me as Stephen of Philadelphia, which is much to my liking.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Why We Went to London

I was just turned twelve, in the year of grace 1681, when my father took me to London. It may be that I cannot set it down exactly as my father would, why we made the long, wearisome journey; but yet I shall be able to put forth all the facts, even though they are not given in due order.

First, it was known in Bristol that William Penn had been given a large tract of land in America by King Charles II, in settlement of a debt owed by the king to his father, the admiral, with the agreement that two beaver skins should be paid each year for the same, which, of course, was a most ridiculous price; but, as I understood it, this served simply to show that the king claimed, even after using it with which to pay a debt, the right to rule over the country.

All this would have concerned my father but little had it not been for the fact that William Penn had become a Friend, or Quaker, and my father was also of the same faith.

It had been made known by Penn that those Englishmen who wanted to make homes for themselves in America, where no man should be able to wrong them because of being Friends, could have land at the rate of forty shillings for an hundred acres, or five thousand acres for the sum of one hundred pounds.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

There were many of our neighbors in Bristol who counted to journey overseas to where a man might believe or preach whatsoever seemed to him right in the sight of God, and many parcels of land had already been taken up by them in the new town, wheresoever it might be located.

My father was a cautious man, however, unwilling to embark in any enterprise, however trifling, until he had first a clear idea of what would be expected, and to that end he went up to London that he might have speech with William Penn.

Bound for America

It was my misfortune that I failed then to see William Penn, most like because of my father's thinking it unseemly to take with him a small lad when he talked about matters of business; but before the day was come to an end, I learned that already were there three ships fitted out for the voyage to America, one to sail from our city of Bristol, and the other two from the port of London.

That which my father heard from the lips of William Penn decided him to have a share in the enterprise, and because of our not having time to travel back to Bristol before the ship due to sail from there would have left port, he had agreed to take passage in the John and Sarah, a fine vessel even then ready for sea.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

At that time my mother was in Greenwich, on a visit, but before another day had come she was with us, busied with her preparations for the voyage.

It caused me great sorrow because I was not to journey with the people of Bristol, whom I knew, and who were to sail in the ship Factor. For the time being it seemed as if my misfortune was very great, simply because of my being among strangers; but I soon came to understand that the Lord's hand is in all things, and, although I had no claim upon His mercy and goodness, it was bestowed upon me even at that time.

The Amity, which was the other ship to leave London at the same time as did the John and Sarah, and the Factor of Bristol, did not arrive in America, owing to tempests, until many months after we had landed, and the passengers on both the ships suffered much of discomfort, if not absolute misery, all of which was spared to us.

My father declared that this was a lesson to us who were about to make our homes in a new country. It showed that we should ever depend upon a strength greater than ours and not of this world, with never a word of repining when matters do not go the way we would choose since we little know what is best.

On Board Ship

Because of my going on board ship within four and twenty hours after my father had decided to make a home on the land which the king had given William Penn, I did not have the disagreeable opportunity of raising dismal forebodings regarding the long voyage before us.

I knew nothing whatsoever of a seaman's life; but had heard that he who goes on the ocean for the first time must expect to be ill. There was never a thought that the illness of the sea was a sickness that seemingly brought one nigh unto death, but the ship was hardly more than out of the port, before I believed of a verity that my last hour was near at hand.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

When it seemed to me that I could not live any longer, the illness began to leave me, and from that time until we were come to Penn's land, the sea, however violent, could not cause me uneasiness so far as concerned my stomach.

Then it was, that I began to take delight in thus voyaging on the ocean, and again and again did I spend a full day at a time, watching the onrush of the ship through the curling, dizzying waves which at one time appeared so beautiful, and at another were so threatening that it aroused fear in one's heart simply to glance at them.

When I stood by the rail in the hinder part of the ship, it was as if a big lump came into my throat on seeing her dive into the green valleys of water, and again rise on the foaming mountains, as if eager to bring us speedily to our new home.

When I was not thus engaged in watching the movements of the vessel, I listened to the conversation of my elders, which was, as you may suppose, chiefly concerning the land to which we were voyaging.

An Unknown Country

By such use of my ears I learned much that seemed to me strange, chief among which was the fact that my father and the other men who had taken passage on the John and Sarah had bought land in a city which was yet to be built, but had already been named Philadelphia.

At the time, however, no one knew in what spot that city would be made, therefore never one could tell where this land was that he had paid for, except that it was to be within the grant made by the king to William Penn.

Not until after we had arrived in America, and had spied out the land, to learn where it was wisest to build this Philadelphia of ours, could we say which were our acres.

Another matter which caused me no little thought was that William Penn had not come with us, nor was it his purpose to come until after the town was well started. I knew full well that he had been imprisoned and fined again and again, because of preaching, or writing down his pious thoughts for others to read, and I failed to understand why he did not flee at the earliest moment from that England whose people and rulers were so cruel.

It was explained by our friends in the old home, that after we had crossed the ocean we would find the mouth of a big river, up which we were to sail until coming to the place best suited for a city; but we were also told that there were many people living on the shores of the river, and I asked myself how we could, in that wild country, say where was William Penn's land which he had sold to us, and where that portion of the country owned by those who had already made homes there.

It is not to be supposed that I, a lad, vexed my father by asking him the questions which came into my mind; but I puzzled over them more than once without coming to any answer, even after we were in the very midst of the country which, it was said, the king himself had named Pennsylvania, meaning "the woods of Penn," or, as some sav, the head of the woodlands, for the name Penn in the Welsh language means "head."

I have also heard it said that Penn would have called our country New Wales, but King Charles would have it his way and none other; therefore Pennsylvania it is, and a very good name, I think, if you decide that it means Penn's woods.

The End of the Voyage

I might set down very much regarding the voyage overseas; but it would all be out of place if I am to tell how we began the city of Brotherly Love in what was little better than a wilderness, even though there were many Swedes, Dutchmen, and a few English living then on the lands that had been given to William Penn.

It is enough if I say that after a fairly prosperous voyage we came to the mouth of a noble river flowing between two capes, and then sailed slowly over waters as calm as a mill pond, between shores covered with huge trees among which could yet be seen late blooming flowers, until, so the captain of the ship declared, we were near to ninety miles in from the ocean.

Now, because of our not knowing where this new city of ours was to be set up, and of our not being able to learn whatsoever regarding it until after the surveyors had marked out the bounds of the country, one place was as good as another in which to spend the time until the other vessels should arrive.

Without any idea that we might have come by accident to the very spot which we were eager to see, some of our company proposed that we should land where the ship then lay at anchor, after having sailed three days up the river, and verily no more beautiful place could have been found.

The land before us was high, with many springs of sweet water, and situated between two rivers. Even though it might not be the place chosen for the city, it was a pleasant spot in which to pass the time waiting for the arrival of the Amity and the Factor; therefore, without much of discussion, it was agreed that our voyage should come to an end here, and, as was shown later, it seemed of a verity that God had directed our steps.

Going Ashore

Captain Smith, master of the John and Sarah, was only too well pleased to be rid of his passengers, that he might return to England, and within an hour after the people had agreed to go on shore, there to set up such shelters as would serve as houses until the remainder of the company should arrive, he had the ship warped well in toward the land to take out our belongings.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

There was a promise of frost in the air, although the sun shone warm after the day was well begun, and we knew that it stood us in hand to put up that which would serve to shield us from the wet and cold of the winter.

It would have pleased me right well to wander around in the noble forest, for the trees came close to the water's edge, and the whirring of wings, when one but stepped within the screen of foliage, told that we need not suffer for food while we had the wherewith to charge a gun.

It was my duty, however, to do that which might be of service to my parents, for a great hulking lad of twelve years has no right to stand with his hands in his pockets when there is work to be done.

At first father believed that he might make such a but of logs as we had been told were set up by those settlers in Plymouth and Boston; but he was not skilled in the use of an axe, and before the first tree had been felled, it was plain to be seen that the task was far beyond his endurance, unless it might be that we had four or five months in which to perform it.

Then again, it really seemed useless to put so much labor into a dwelling which we might not use more than two or three months, for the land my father had bought of William Penn was to be in the new city, and when the location for that had been decided upon, we might find ourselves many miles away from it.

Our First Shelter

The banks of the river, near where the goods were being set ashore from the John arid Sarah, were high and of a sandy soil, which bespoke easy digging; therefore when I saw Edmund Lovett attacking it with a spade and mattock, it was easy to guess what he would do.

My father, seeing the same sight, looked up at me as he nodded his head, which was, to my mind, much as if he had said we would do the same, for verily it seemed like the quickest way to get shelter for mother and our goods.

Before sunset we had chosen a place on the river bank where but few rocks could be seen, and were working like bees at what promised to be a cave of some considerable size, if so be our courage held out long enough.

That night, however, we slept under a screen of bushes in the forest, within a dozen yards of where our underground house was to be, and the sun did not come up any too soon to please me, for the night air was so chill that my teeth were chattering with the cold a long while before it was possible to see any signs of the coming day.

Father built a small fire, so that mother might make shift to prepare something for a morning meal; but she, poor soul, had little idea how anything in the way of cooking could be done when there was nothing more than a fire on the ground and one small kettle; therefore I, watching my chance when some of the sailors were going out to the ship, took passage with them.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

From the cook of the vessel I got as much in the way of boiled beef and bread as would serve us three for food during two days or more, and, returning to the shore with this, we soon broke our fast.

A Tedious Task

Before having dug very far into the bank of the river, we came to understand that something in the way of timbers would be necessary to hold up the earth at the top, otherwise we should have it tumbling about our cars, and father took upon himself the work of hewing logs, while mother and I dug and dug, throwing the loose sand directly at the mouth of the opening to make there a roadway to the river below.

Before we had made what might be called a good beginning of the task, I came to believe that it could not have been much harder work to build a house of logs; but we had already expended so much strength, that it would have been foolish to drop the plan then in favor of something else.

Besides, nearly all those who had come over in the ship with us were making the same kind of dwellings, having been led to do so by the example set by Edmund Lovett and father; therefore we were seemingly bound to finish the task, or give our fellow passengers good reason for calling us simples.

It grieved me to see my mother doing such work; but how might it be otherwise, since there were none who could be hired to perform the labor, because of all who had come ashore digging caves in which to shelter themselves?

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

When we were so far inside the bank that it was no longer possible to throw the sand out with a spade, mother carried it in a huge piece of bark as I scraped it away, and we were nearly ready for the timbers that were to support the roof, when father appeared with such as he had cut.

Our Cave Home Completed

It would be dry reading if I were to set down what we did day after day until we had what might be called a home, therefore I will say that we were near to a week in building the shelter, and when the task was finished we had a roomy cave, with logs stretching across the top, held in place by other logs set on end.

At one side was a hole which extended entirely through the sand to the surface, and when this had been fiited with a chimney of bark, cut from a huge tree in two sections, and of sufficient height to cause a free draught of air, we had the possibility of a fireplace.

I spent three days searching for flat stones with which to make the fireplace, and since, of course, we had no mortar with which to hold the stones together, I plastered them plentifully with mud until the whole stood fairly firm. It was nothing more than a clumsy box, open in the front and at the top; but it had been built by me, without any aid from either father or mother, and right fine did it look in my eyes.

We had our beds at the farthest end of the cave, where the wind might not come at us, and very comfortable they were. Father made of small tree trunks two frames, like unto bedsteads, with poles to form the bottoms, and these I filled high with the small ends of pine and sassafras boughs, after which mother covered the whole with quilts, putting on the very top beds of feathers.

At the mouth of the cave, on a ledge which had been formed by shoveling away the earth, was a sort of hut, built of small tree trunks and stout branches, which served as a storeroom for such goods as might not come to harm by being wet, and also as a sitting room for mother in fair weather.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

By the time our house was finished, and the outer room roofed over with sods, there were no less than twenty of these cave homes near at hand, the dwellers in which, like ourselves, were waiting until it should be known where the city was to be built.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

There were, however, a dozen or more places in which to live that were not so snug and comfortable as ours. More than one of the men, believing the other vessels would arrive within a few days, refused to spend so much labor on a shelter that might be abandoned within a week, and these made tiny cabins of sods, Indian-like huts of trees and bushes, or simply shelters of bark just as' it had been peeled from the trees.

Those who neglected to make good provision for the winter repented of their indolence, however, for many a weary day passed before all the company that were to live in the city had come together in America.

How We Kept House

While building the clumsy fireplace, I had asked myself many times how it might be possible for mother to do any cooking when it was filled with blazing wood; but I soon had good proof that it would serve her purpose nearly as well as if it had been fashioned properly, with a fair chimney to carry away the smoke. She had brought with her what house-wives call a Dutch oven, which is nothing more than a box of thin iron, with one side wholly open so that the heat may come at whatever is inside, and with a shelf in the middle to hold three or four small pots or pans.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Ours was about three feet wide, two feet in depth, with a height of two and one half feet. When the open side of this was set directly in front of the fire, and well into the fireplace that it might be banked around with live embers, that which had been put inside must perforce be cooked, and in a very cleanly manner.

There is little need for me to say that mother had iron pots which might be bung directly over the fire by chains attached to a stout bar of wood laid across the top of the fireplace; but these could be used only for boiling, while the baking must be done in some such contrivance as the oven.

Many of our neighbors, having no such luxuries as we, baked their bread in iron pans set directly among the embers; but this was by no means cleanly, since, as father often said, there was more of ashes than meal when the loaf was cooked.

As for water, we had it in plenty. Within twenty yards of our cave was a spring from which an hundred people might have quenched their thirst every minute in the day without lessening the supply, and in front of us was the river, on the bank of which, when the weather was not too cold, mother and I washed the clothes.

When we first set up housekeeping, father believed we could make shift to eat while sitting on the ground; but before the first meal had come to an end, both he and mother understood that something in the way of a table must be provided.

It would surprise you to know how readily you can make certain things for your comfort or necessities, when forced so to do, or go without. I made legs for a table by driving four stakes firmly into the ground on that portion of our floor of earth opposite the fireplace. From one to the other of these I tied four saplings with small ropes which one of the seamen gave me.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Our goods had been put on board the ship in huge wooden boxes, and the boards from one of these made the top of my table, while for chairs we had short, stout logs, so large that they would not readily be overset.

The Savages Come to Town

From the day I recovered from the sickness of the sea, I looked forward to seeing a live savage, of which I had been told there were many in America, and when we sighted land for the first time I remained on deck waiting for the first glimpse of an Indian.

When at last, the John and Sarah came to anchor off the bank in which we were to make our home, and where I fully expected to see the shore lined with savages, never one met my eager gaze for several days, and great was my disappointment.

I would have gone in search of some, regarding not the danger of being lost, or of coming upon evil-minded Indians who would do me harm; but, as I have already set down, I was in duty bound to do whatsoever of work I might, in order to aid my parents, therefore did it seem to me as if I would never be able to satisfy my curiosity.

We had scarce been in our cave home a week, however, when I, who was helping mother hang some quilts to keep out the dampness, which seemed really, to soak through the earth, heard a great cry above us, and, running into the open air to learn the cause, I saw a company of eight savages, who stood not many yards away from William Markham's hut, staring about them curiously.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Verily I was disappointed in them. It had been in my mind that I should see a wonderful race of people, when I stood face to face with the savages, and yet they were not unlike our own people, save as to the color of their skin, and the fanciful dress they wore.

One could see at a single glance that they were not Negroes, and yet they were very dark; much the color of a penny that has been passed from hand to hand until it has lost its brightness.

Some of our company, eager to show a friendly front to these odd-looking visitors, went forth to greet the savages; but there was little chance of their making themselves understood, since neither party could speak the other's language, and after a deal of jabbering and much making of gestures, the Indians went away, leaving us none the wiser for their having come.

It was understood by us who had voyaged in the John and Sarah, that when William Penn came over to take charge of this city, we were to build, it would be his right to make friends with these savages in behalf of us all; but until he could attend to it, no one, except William Markham, whom we called the deputy governor, had any reason for doing other than as we had done during this first visit.

What the Savages Wore

So to set down what they wore that whosoever reads may picture it in his mind is far beyond me, and yet they had little of clothing, even though there was a chill of frost in the air.

At first glance it seemed as if they were decked out with nothing save feathers. Some had many bright-colored plumes in their hair; others wore a hind of headdress in which the feathers stood up straight, like unto a crown, while not a few had, in addition to the crown, a long train of feathers sweeping downward from their heads.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

All wore soft, odd-looking shoes, much ornamented with what appeared to be beads and straws, which last I afterward learned were quills of the porcupine stained in gay colors. Not a few of them had on half-breeches of tanned deer hide, my father said, and these also were decked fancifully with beads and quills.

One would have said they were a party of merry- makers, who had put on all these feathers as a sort of disguise, save that there were no signs of mirth on their faces.

Some had bows in their hands, with arrows in a quiver slung over the left shoulder; but I was surprised to see three who carried guns which had much the look of English make.

My father afterward explained this by saying that these savages had, most like, traded with the people of New York and the English in Connecticut, or with the Swedes who were settled round about us, and in such way been able to buy firearms. He declared, however, that it was more the behavior of madmen, than of people who counted to live in this land, to put into the hands of the Indians weapons with which they could easily kill those who had thus supplied them.

Before the winter was passed I came to be so accustomed to the sight of these brown, feather-decked men as to give little or no heed when they came among us.

It was much as if they counted on being friendly, for scores and scores came with furs, wild fowl, or deer meat to sell, and I never saw any of them give way to anger, even when the women and girls gathered about them, through idle curiosity, in such numbers that the savages could do no more than stand still until the press gave way.

Game in Plenty

I can well fancy that you are wondering why I do not speak of what we had to eat in those days when we were living in caves, waiting for the remainder of the company to arrive that it might be decided where the city was to be built.

There is little need for me to say that we had brought with us enough of pickled beef, pork, meal, flour, and such things, to keep hunger far from us a full year; but straightway we were done with making those shelters which served in the stead of houses, we came to know that there was an abundance of food in the forest and rivers.

I had thought we were in the midst of plenty while in England, where one might buy whatsoever he desired, provided he had the money with which to pay for it; but here it was as if you need only venture out in any direction to get food such as would have caused the mouth of a king to water.

The wild pigeons came into the forest near us in such numbers that one could hardly see the sun when a flock flew overhead, and I, with none other to help me save Jethro, have knocked down from the branches of the trees, after the birds had gone to roost, a full two bushels of them in a single evening. What is more, I have actually seen the birds settle in such great numbers on a single limb as to break it off because of their immense weight.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Mother preserved as many of these pigeons as she could care for in what jars of stone or delft we brought with us, and had it been possible to step out and buy all the crockery-ware she wanted, I dare say we might have had of potted pigeons enough to serve us as food a full year, if so be one could eat of such meat for so long a time.

Nor were pigeons the only game to be found in these woods of Penn. He who was a fair marksman could, by going less than half a mile into the forest in the early morning, or just when the sun was setting, bring down a wild turkey of from twenty to forty pounds weight; and let me tell you that there is no more pleasing meat than can be found in a turkey that has been roasted on a spit, before a fire of chestnut wood, until the outside is crisp like that which, in England, we call the crackling of a young pig.

Then what think you of deer meat so plentiful that one may buy a fine fat buck for two shillings? We had so much of venison during the winter when we lived i n the cave that I have more than once turned up my nose at it, and yet an alderman's nose might well grow red at sight of the haunches mother served to us on that makeshift of a table which I had built.

We also had not a little of bear meat; and although others may eat that kind of food, if they are so disposed, it tastes too nearly like fresh pork on which sugar has been sprinkled, to please me.

Then there were elk in the forests as large as small oxen, and rabbits, squirrels, pheasants, and partridges in great numbers, while on the water could be found, in season, swan, geese, ducks, teal, and many other kinds of fowl.

Jethro and I went often into the forest, making as excuse that we would have a turkey, some partridges, or, perhaps, a deer; but the taking of game for food required but little time, and we spent the remainder of the day watching the wild creatures who had not come to know what a cruel enemy man is to them.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

My father held strictly to it that it is sinful to kill more than may be needed for food, and I have come to have the same belief. God gave them to us that we should not go hungry; but surely the poor creatures were never put in this world that we might find sport in depriving them of life.

Sea Food

Then as to fish, the waters were almost actually alive with them! My father and I have taken upward of two hundred weight in a single hour, and before we were ashore from the John and Sarah a month, we had stored in our outer room as much of salted fish as we could have eaten in two years, even though we had been ravenously hungry all the while.

From sturgeon to perch, we could have all the fish we cared to catch, and the sorrow of it was that the poor, starving wretches I have seen in Bristol might not have had some little portion of what we were not able to eat.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

We had, while we lived in that cave home, and many years afterward, for that matter, oysters such as you never dreamed of, as to size. I have seen them again and again six full inches in length, when one must cut them with a knife into portions, since they were far too large to be taken into the mouth whole.

Then there were crabs, cockles, and mussels in such great More that he who went out to gather for himself brought back enough for his neighbors, finding these shellfish so plentiful that but little labor was needed to get as much as a dozen persons could eat.

Surely I have set down enough to let you know that we had food in such store as was like to make us wasteful, and the wonder of it was that we did not grow into mountains of fat while we waited for the Amity and the Factor.

News of the "Factor"

I would I had the time in which to tell you all that Jethro and I did during that first winter in America, when it was as if we had come into a land overflowing with milk and honey, with none to molest or make afraid; but if I am to tell you how we built the city of Brotherly Love, I must be careful not to spend time and words on that which Jethro and I did in the way of pleasure, because our doings were of no account, whereas the making of the chief town in this country of Pennsylvania was, as it seems to me, of great importance.

The Factor, which, as you may remember, was the third ship of our fleet, and sailed from the port of Bristol, did not get across the ocean until nearly the middle of December. During the voyage up the river to find us, she was frozen in while anchored for the night.

It was impossible to move the vessel until warm weather had come, and neither her master, nor any of those on board, had any idea as to where we might be, or even if we had finished our voyage.

Therefore it was that many of the passengers landed and made for themselves caves, much as we had done, save that they were pressed for time because of the frosty weather, or set up rude huts, and in these make-shifts for homes they spent the winter, while a few remained on board.

As a matter of fact, they were not so many miles away but that the journey might easily have been continued by land, yet we were as ignorant of their whereabouts as they were of ours, and thus we remained apart when it would have been so much pleasure to have spent the time in each other's company.

However, the Indians finally brought us news of the ship which was imprisoned in the ice, and many of us went down to visit her, Jethro and I among the number, as you shall hear very shortly.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

First I must explain certain matters, lest you set me down as one who talks with a double tongue, as the savages say.

I have told you that we could not understand what the Indians meant by their odd-sounding words, and that is true of the time when we first landed; but many of our people, my father among the others, at once set about learning the language, to such effect that by the time the brown men knew of the whereabouts of the Factor, we, meaning certain of our company, could contrive to carry on quite a lengthy conversation with those who came among us to sell game or furs.

Arrival of the "Amity"

And now a word as to the second ship of our fleet, the Amity, which sailed from London on the same clay as did we.

Not until spring had come again did we learn whatsoever concerning her, and then she sailed up the river, to our great joy and relief of mind.

She had been overtaken by a most violent tempest when about halfway across the ocean, and so tossed about by the wind and the waves that the captain was forced to seek a port in the West Indies, where he spent much time making the vessel seaworthy.

And now, having made these explanations, fearing lest I might forget them in their proper order, let me go back to that day when the brown men brought word to our settlement of caves, that a "white man's canoe" was a short distance down the river, held prisoner by the ice.

It was only reasonable that we should believe the vessel was one of our fleet, since we knew of none other that would come so far into this country which the king had given to William Penn, and any one can well imagine how we burned with the desire to meet again those friends whom we had last seen on the other side of the mighty ocean.

Going to Meet the "Factor"

It was at once decided that a certain number of our company should make the journey down the river, after having bargained with the savages to guide them, and both Jethro and I were eager to be of the party, even though hardships might be met.

We had remained idle so long, doing little else than eat, that action of any kind, however dangerous, was something greatly to be desired.

It was not an easy matter to gain permission of our parents, however, although we did succeed finally, and you may set it down in good truth that we were in high spirits on that winter morning when we started off.

The party numbered five men, we two lads, and three savages to show the way. We were all well armed, for no one could say how many wild and ferocious beasts might be encountered, and carried provisions in plenty, not being minded to live upon the stores of our friends.

You must know that there was snow upon the ground to the depth of eight or ten inches, and to plough through this would have been most exhausting work; but the savages make a kind of shoe to bear them on the surface, however deep the drifts may be, and already had my father fashioned one pair for himself and another for me.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

The shoes are made by working down two pieces of wood from the ash tree, the wood having been well seasoned, until they are of no greater bigness than your smallest finger. The wood is then held in the steam from boiling water until it can be readily bent, when the ends are brought close together and the middle stretched wide apart, something after the fashion of fastening two crescent-shaped sticks at each point.

Across this frame are woven the entrails of deer, until a sort of basket-work has been formed, after which the cords are allowed to dry slowly, when they will become hard and tough, yet so far pliable as to yield somewhat to the pressure of one's foot.

It is not a simple matter to walk on these Indian snowshoes until after one has had considerable practice, and even then it is necessary to advance with the feet so wide apart, in order to allow for the width of the shoes, that the labor is very great, at least so it was to Jethro and me by the time we had traveled three or four miles.

A Long and Tiresome Journey

During a full day, which is to say from the time it was sufficiently light to see one's way through the forest, until the shadows of night had fully come, we walked on snowshoes, oftentimes amid the underbrush where even the most experienced got ugly falls, owing to the awkward length of the shoes, with but two halts of perhaps half an hour each.

Long before word was given by the savage guides that we might make camp for the night, did I believe it would be impossible for me to take another step because of weariness.

Then a handful of Indian corn, roasted in the ashes, was given to each member of the party, and it seemed like a pitiful amount after the plenty to which we had been accustomed; but I found it right hearty. On such small rations one felt much as if having partaken of a full meal; but on this night I gave little heed to the value of the food, because of my eyes being closed in slumber almost before my hunger had been satisfied.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

When another day dawned, we were astir, but only to find that two of the savages had disappeared, and while we were breaking our fast on cold roasted turkey, which we had brought with us from the settlement, there was much tongue-wagging regarding the absence of the Indians.

He who had been left behind did not know enough words in English to explain why his comrades had thus left us, and when, two hours later, the seeming mystery was solved, Jethro and I could have kicked each other, in our vexation, because of the useless labor we had performed.

It appeared that the savages who guided us had no very clear idea of where the "white man's canoe" might be found; but believed that by following what they called "a trail," it would be possible to come upon the ship.

As a matter of fact, however, we had gone down the river many miles more than was necessary; for our camping place had been chosen near the stream, which at this point was free from ice, and therefore did it seem certain we had come too far.

It surely was vexing; but, as Jethro said with a grin, we had come to know by experience what it was to sleep in the snow when the frost in the air was most nipping, and I am free to confess that I have lain on many a worse bed than we had while burrowed in a drift of snow like partridges.

Meeting Old Friends

Before noon we were on board the ship, greeting our friends from Bristol, who welcomed us warmly, and to me it was a most joyful time.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

We were called upon to answer a multitude of questions regarding those who had come over in the John and Sarah, and I could see full well that many of the people were sadly disappointed because of our not having already decided upon the place where the city was to be built, although they knew that Thomas Holme, who was to make a survey of the country, had not left England when our fleet set sail.

However, we had much of cheering news to impart, chiefly regarding the plentiful supply of food, and the fact that we were very comfortably housed, even though living in caves.

We spent the night on board the Factor, and next morning twenty of the men who had come over in her insisted on going back with us to the settlement, even though we tried to let them understand how great would be the fatigue of making one's way through the snow without the Indian shoes to prevent them from sinking knee-deep amid the fleecy, frosty particles.

All our party made the journey in safety, however, and on that night we who had the largest caves were called upon to take in as lodgers these visitors from the Factor, until, speaking for my own home, we hardly had room in which to turn around.

Roasting Turkeys

Father had a plentiful supply of game on hand, and mother roasted two turkeys, which required no little work on my part, for I was forced to tend what we called the spit, though it really was only a rude contrivance which required much labor.

Of course you know that a spit, such as we had in England, is an iron instrument on which whatsoever is to be roasted may he placed and made to turn slowly in front of the fire until all parts of it are cooked brown.

It so happened that no one save Jethro's father had brought with him a spit, and, as a matter of course, Jethro's mother needed it herself, therefore the other housewives were forced to make shift as best they could.

Father had made with great care a long stick of chestnut wood about the thickness of my middle finger, and this we thrust through the turkey from head to tail, after which it was hung by small chains from the top of the fireplace, at such a height over the embers as would best serve the purpose of cooking.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

In order that the bird might not be burned to a cinder on one side while the other portions were left raw, it was my duty to turn this wooden spit, until every part of the meat was roasted properly, and if you think that a simple task, try it some time in front of a blazing fire of huge logs.

Turning an Honest Penny

It would not be well if I should leave you to believe that during all this first winter in America I did nothing save bather fuel and hunt for game.

It is true that there was but little to be done in the way of useful labor, because of every one's waiting until it should be known where the city was to be built, yet Jethro and I hit upon a plan for turning an honest penny, even in a land where no trading was done, save the buying of furs from the savages.

We had come to know some of the Indians right well, as you may suppose, and often went into that one of their villages which stood not above a mile from father's cave. There we saw beautifully fashioned spoons made of handsome white wood, which the savages said was spoon-wood; but father told us it should be called laurel.

Now, you must know that many of the savages used seashells, sharpened to a keen edge, in the stead of knives, and with these hits of shell one could hollow out the bowl of a spoon more neatly than with a pocket- knife, besides which, it was to me interesting to use such odd tools.

To make a long story short, Jethro and I set about making these wooden spoons, and soon learned to do the work so deftly that we could turn out even better wares than did the savages.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

At first we had given our time to such labor because of its being pleasing to us; but we soon found that it was possible to sell as many as could be made, for it was slow work, and from that day on we drove a brisk business, being so taken up with it as to give over roaming in the forest with the other lads.

Choosing the Place for the City

When warm weather came again, we no longer had time for spoon-making, for shipload after shipload of people came over from England until, so my father believed, we had no fewer than nine hundred, counting men, women, and children, living as best they might along the river at whatsoever point seemed to them the most likely place for the building of the city.

Thomas Holme, who was to decide the matter, acting upon advice from William Penn, had already come among us, and went here and there, in the company of the chief men, until he was convinced that he had found the one place of all others for our city of Philadelphia.

We who had come over in the John and Sarah were more than satisfied with his choice, for, if you please, he had hit upon the very spot where we had dug our caves, and thus, by merest chance, had we come to that section of the country of Pennsylvania where we had most wanted to be.

William Penn had already made a plan of what the city should be, and Thomas Holme so marked it out that the location would stretch from river to river, as may be seen in the map which I have copied down here, with a plot in the very center where was to be left a space of ten acres to be used as a playground.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

It can well be understood that within an hour after Thomas Holme had laid out the city amid the wilder- ness, those who, like my father, had bought land within the limits of the town, were eager to settle upon such places as were to be theirs, and after these matters had been arranged there was no more spoon-making for Jethro and me, because of our fathers' being bent on building houses without delay, when, as a matter of course, we lads were to do our full share of the work.

The people began to name the streets as soon as Thomas Holme had them marked out, and father believes it has been done properly, since, instead of calling them for great people in England, they are named for whatsoever comes nearest to describing them.

Because of its being on the highest land, that road which runs through the middle of the new town is called High Street, and you may be certain there has been a good, sensible reason for all that has been done in the way of bestowing names, which is far more than can be said for some of the cities in England.

Building the City

It seemed more like magic than the sober, everyday work of making homes, for straightway all that portion of the country which was to contain our city, had upon it men, women, and children, each eager to destroy the last vestige of forest that the land might take on a semblance of England.

Now you must understand that there were no fewer than two Indian villages within the limits of the town as marked out "by Thomas Holme, and some of our people were eager to settle in those places, because of there not being so much of labor required in cutting down the trees; but this could not be.

William Penn had given strict orders to all who bought land of him, that the savages were not to be molested in any way; but should be sent away from the country which had been given him by the king, only when they were well inclined to go. Therefore it was that we began to make our city around these villages, being forced to wait until our governor came to cleat in his own way with the Indians.

At one, time, after spring had come, I could see no less than eighteen log houses being set up, and, as if that was not evidence enough that our city would soon be built, one could hear the ring of an hundred or more axes, while every few minutes the crashing of a huge tree, as it was felled, told how rapidly the forest was giving way before this army of home-hunters.

The work of building did not go on without interruptions, however, and the first came when our people decided that if we were to keep the few pigs which had been brought from England, it was necessary that steps be taken to lessen the number of bears.

A Bear Hunt

We had not been troubled by the heasts during the winter, because of their not leaving their dens often when snow is on the ground; but as soon as we had pigs and sheep, as was speedily the case after the ships began to arrive with those who had agreed to settle in William Penn's city, the bears came out in great numbers.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

One big brown creature seized a pig at which Jethro's father was looking, leaping into the pen and out again with the squealing fellow in his jaws, and made good his escape, owing to the fact that William Norris had nothing near at hand which would serve as a weapon.

Therefore it was decided that three full days should be spent in ridding the land of bears and wolves, and we lads made great preparations for the sport, thinking to prove ourselves heroes at the outset; but, unless I am much mistaken, we did nothing of the kind.

On the morning of the hunt, at early daybreak, thirty men were sent out to form a line straight across from one river to the other, and at the same time twice as many more were ordered to range themselves along the bank near where were our caves. Then the two companies marched in the line of a crescent toward the meeting place of the two rivers.

Back of these, and close in the rear so that there might be no danger from their fire, came all the others, Indians as well as white men, who cared to take part in the hunt, and I dare venture to say there were none who remained at home just then.

The line began to move forward about sunrise, and nothing was heard or seen of the bears until a full hour had passed, when three or four shots from the further end told that one had been brought down.

Of course, in thus sweeping the country we routed out rabbits, partridges, porcupines, and a host of small game; but the orders were that no powder should be wasted on anything except bears or wolves.

It seemed to me as if I saw on that day game enough to feed all the people in England for a full twenty-four hours; the earth was literally covered with it after we had been moving forward slowly three or four hours, and in that time, judging from the reports of firearms, more than one bear or wolf had been put past the power to do mischief.

Jethro and I counted on taking home at least two good skins that night, and yet, although upward of forty bears and twenty-two wolves were killed, we lads never had an opportunity of discharging our guns.

The Indians captured most of the game, and, save for our not being able to say that we had killed so many bears, we lads need not have been very greatly down at the mouth, for a pelt freshly taken from the animal could be bought of the savages for almost any trifling trinket.

The New Home

We had one more bear hunt before the first of the log houses had been built; but I did not take part in it, because of our being so nearly done with our building that mother urged us to make every effort at winding up the task within the next four and twenty hours, to the end that we might be able to leave the cave among the first of the company.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

By this time we had among us many laborers, and father hired two men to saw logs into boards, so that we might have floors in our home, and doors that were seemly to look upon.

I saw many dwellings in which the floor was nothing more than the earth beaten down hard, and the doors made of riven logs to form rough planks called puncheons; but my father, counting to spend the remainder of his days in this land of America, gave due heed to the comfort of himself and of his family.

In later davs I have heard much concerning the suffering endured by people who came to other portions of the New World to build homes, and have been told of the shifts they made in putting up dwellings, or in providing themselves with food; but we of Philadelphia were not called upon thus to battle against obstacles that need not have arisen, had the colony been properly cared for by those who had charge of the matter in England.

William Penn's Care for the Colonists

It was as if William Penn had studied out all these things until he came to understand what would be needed by people who ventured into the wilderness as had we. He took good care to have ships ready to sail from England whenever there were men and women enough to use them to advantage, and in each vessel he sent over necessary goods and supplies.

Thus it was that when the ship Submission sailed from London, she had on board men who knew how to make lime and bricks, to quarry stone, to set up mills for grinding corn, and to establish tanneries for making leather.

I have been told that in the eastern settlements the people had neither oxen, cows, sheep. pigs, nor even poultry, until three or four years after they had come into this land; whereas we of Philadelphia had, as soon as they were really needed, all these animals, as well as mills for grinding grain, brickyards, stone for building, tools for the planters, and everything to our hand, all through the thoughtfulness and oversight of our governor.

Our people were eager to follow the directions for making the city as they were laid down by William Penn, because of his having looked so sharply after their welfare, and again and again have I heard Thomas Holme read that which had been written for his guidance:

"Pitch upon the very middle plot of the town, to be laid facing the harbor, for my house," he had written, and so we did.

He directed also that each man's house should be in the center of his lot of land, to the end that we might have a green town such as would always be wholesome.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

We were told to be very tender with the Indians; to make them presents when deserved; to pay honestly for their goods or their labor, never striving, as it was said the Dutch in New Amsterdam had done, to put them off with worthless trinkets, and above all to assure them that we would buy all the land they claimed in that part of the country which had been given William Penn by the king.

I believe we had none among us who did not strive to do that which was required for the betterment of the city and for the safety of those who should live in it, either now, or in the time to come. We had built it with our own hands, having come far to do so, and it would have been strange had any failed of doing all that might be needed.

Now you can fancy that while we labored to do as our governor would have us, we were eager for his coming. Word had been sent that he was to leave England at some time during the summer, and eagerly did we watch the river, hoping each day that before another night had come he would be with us.

The First Baby

It was while we were thus working to the best of our ability, women and girls as well as men and boys, to have matters progressing when William Penn should visit us, that the settlement was excited by news that a baby had come to the family of John Key, who was yet living in one of the caves on the river bank.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

I had never believed the day would dawn when I should go out of my way to see such a thing; but this little fellow was the first to come from Heaven to our half-built city of Brotherly Love, and it seemed as if it was the bounden duty of every one to visit John Key's cave at least once, to look upon Philadelphia's first baby.

He wasn't anything wonderful to see, so far as I could make out; but the girls appeared to think that nothing like him had ever come into this world before, and I dare venture to say John Key's wife was heartily glad when the fever for seeing the baby died away, as it did in the course of two weeks.

Jethro and I were among the very first visitors, and even then I felt somewhat of shame to be running around after a baby, and, two days later, when the excitement was at its height, wild horses couldn't have dragged me there, because of the cave's being filled with women and girls during every minute of the day, until one would have believed that we of Philadelphia had nothing better with which to occupy our time.

I may as well set it down here that when our William Penn arrived, he gave to this first baby a piece of land near that street which was called Crown.

How the Indians Live

I would that I might describe to you the Indians whom we found living near about the land which was set apart for our city, in such manner that you would be able to picture them to yourself, for they were much like neighbors to us during the days when Philadelphia was little more than a clearing in the wilderness.

As I have said, Jethro and I were often among them, and came to be acquainted with half a dozen or more until they were to us really friends.

I have heard those who have traveled much in this land of America describe the villages which the people of Boston, or of Jamestown, saw when they first came to this country, and therefore it is that I know our Indians lived in a different manner from the savages in those sections.

The villages near us were made of huts, hardly higher than a man would stand, and built by setting poles into the ground until a frame-work had been made five or six feet wide, and from ten to twelve feet long. This was covered with the bark of trees, or of mats woven from coarse dried grass, with a mat hanging at one end to serve as door.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Inside these, in the winter, a fire is built, and the smoke passes out through a hole left in the roof. As for beds, they heap up reeds or grass, covering the whole with skins of animals, and thus are as comfortable while sleeping, as are we English people on our beds of feathers.

When they are in their own village, it seems as if the savages are continually burning that Indian weed called tobacco, and how they contrive to get any pleasure or profit from it passeth all understanding.

They make of a smooth red stone, or of common clay, a small bowl which would contain, perhaps, a robin's egg, and to this they attach a reed, or the leg-bone of a turkey, which is hollow, in order to suck the smoke into their mouths.

But that which displeases me more than anything else, is that the Indians grease themselves with fat from the bear, and on hot days this has a most disagreeable odor. It may be that this helps to keep them warm, for I have seen boys of my own age going around on a winter's day almost naked, and yet they made no complaint of being cold; but Jethro believes that it is because of much bathing that they are able to withstand the cold as they do, these same boys often being seen to plunge into the water, seemingly simply for the sake of wetting their skins, even when there is ice floating on the surface.

Neither the boys nor the men labor in the fields; but the women and the girls make the gardens, gather fuel, and look after all the work, leaving to their fathers and brothers no task save that of hunting.

I have seen three or four girls struggling to drag into the village a quantity of wood for the fires, while twenty or more full grown men lay idly on the ground watching them, but without offering to lend any aid, and yet they are by no means selfish in their dealings with us white people.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Indian Utensils and Tools

They have pots and kettles made of clay, and fashioned much like our own, save that the vessels have a rough surface, are very thin, and so soft that one can cut them with a knife.

These Indians make bread of meal from corn, and the grinding is done in mortars made by cutting a hollow in a smooth rock. Just fancy trying to scoop out the middle of a huge piece of stone by rubbing it with other stones! I have not been able to learn how much time it is necessary to spend in making one of these mortars, but verily I should say a whole life might be spent before the task was finished.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

It surely is astonishing to see the many articles which these brown men have made of stone, and with no other means of fashioning them save by rubbing one rock against another. Their arrow heads are of flint, and worked into shape by chipping off tiny pieces with a yet larger piece of flint, until a bit shaped like a spear head, no more than one inch long and a quarter inch thick, has been made.

Their hatchets are clumsy affairs, and I do not wonder that they are eager to trade with us for tools of iron. I have seen again and again stones shaped like a wedge, with notches on the biggest end, in which was fastened a split stick for a handle, and bound on with rope made from a kind of wild hemp which grows hereabout in great quantity.

The Indian women make this wild hemp into twine or rope by twisting the fibers between their hands, working it smooth around the trunk of a tree, and then they color it red, yellow, or black.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Perhaps you will ask how, with hatchets of stone such as I have described, the savages can cut down a tree. They build a fire around the roots of whatever tree is to be cut down, and with a swab made of wild hemp, keep the upper portion of the trunk wet, so the blaze will not go above the circle they count on cutting. When the flames have eaten into the wood a certain distance, the charred part is scraped away with flint stones or shells, and again is the fire applied, the workmen scraping and burning until the tree has been cut completely through.

In the same way do they make the big boats; but, of course, in this case it is necessary to cut the tree to form the length, and then the log is hollowed by fire and by scraping, until it is a shell no more than an inch in thickness.

I have heard it said that two Indians, working ten full days, can make one of these big boats, which' look so clumsy, but are handled with such ease even in swiftly running water.

Canoes of Bark

The canoes made of bark from the birch tree are wonders in the way of lightness and swiftness. Jethro and I, hoping some day to be able to buy one, have spent very much of our time learning to manage these boats, which are like to eggshells for daintiness, and it is not certain but that we may be able to build such a craft ourselves, for we have watched eagerly the Indians at their work.

One must first get a quantity of thin splints of spoon-wood, which are to be steamed and bent into the form of the bottom and sides of the canoe, until one has made the shape of the entire hull, when a narrow rail of tough wood is put on to fashion the sides and ends.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Then all, save the rail, is covered with bark from the birch trees, the builder taking good care to choose pieces which are free from such blemishes as unequal thickness, an overgrown cleft, or any show of weakness.

This bark should be stripped from a tree so large that each sheet or piece is of length sufficient to stretch from rail to rail, and is fastened in place by sewing with threads of sinew taken from deer.

When all this has been done, every seam, or hole made by the needle, is covered plentifully with pitch from the pine tree, which is not unlike soft tar, and when it has been thoroughly dried, you have a boat that will support from two to six persons, while yet so light that one may easily carry it on his shoulder.

Making Wampum

That which causes me the greatest curiosity is why the Indians spend so much time making small beads of seashells, and then claim that they are money. Wampum, the savages call these beads, and they are strung on strands of hide, or sinew, in certain lengths, each strand standing for so much of value.

To make it more plain, a beaver skin is worth five strings, or fathoms, of wampum, while the hide of a mink sells for two; and it may surprise you to know that we white people are using these same little shells as if they were so much silver and gold.

When we first saw wampum, Jethro and I believed we could make as much as we pleased by stringing the beads, which our people had brought to trade with the savages, on threads of tow; but, if you please, these brown men would not consent to call our beads wampum, although they were quite ready to buy them as ornaments.

It seems, as Jethro and I learned after our scheme of suddenly becoming rich, from an Indian's standpoint, fell to the ground, that these beads from seashells are of value because of so much time being needed for the making. I have seen one of the savages spend two full hours grinding into proper shape a small bead from the thick part of a big mussel shell, and when he was done the thing was by no means as fair to look upon as the roughest of our beads.

In order to have the proper kind of wampum, only certain portions of certain shells can be used, and it is not easy to find these even when you are on the seashore. The Indians go in their canoes near to an hundred miles after the shells, and a dozen men may be away two weeks or more to get twenty of the right sort.

Jethro and I have watched an Indian, seated on his blanket made of fiber from the wild hemp, working half the day to bore a hole in one of these bits of wampum, using no other tool than a tiny bit of flint rock fastened to a thin stick of wood.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Not only do the brown men use this wampum as money, but they sew the strands together to make belts, which are used as gifts when something very valuable is wanted. Wampum belts arc sent from one settlement to another in token of friendship, or to bind some great bargain, as was the case when one was given to our William Penn, as I will set down later.

Perhaps I am spending too many words in telling you about the Indians; but if you had come to have them as neighbors, with whom it was necessary for your very life's sake to live on friendly terms, you would have been likely to watch them closely, as did Jethro and I, and to be interested in all their odd ways.

The Beehive Huts

It was not until we had been in this land of America nearly a year that Jethro and I could make out why three little huts, shaped much like an acorn when placed with the big end down, had been built near the river at a considerable distance from the Indian village.

These huts were hardly more than large enough to admit of three people sitting very closely together in them, and so low in height that whoever was inside could not rise more than to his knees. They were formed of many layers of reeds, and plastered thick with mud until you would say that no air could get through, save at the very bottom, where was a hole about the size of a man's body.

But one day Jethro and I came to know for what use these beehive-like huts were intended. A big fire was built outside one of these odd structures, and in it were heated eight big stones until they must have been red-hot. Then we saw a sick Indian being led down to the hut, where he wriggled through the small opening after the manner of a snake.

As soon as he was inside, the hot rocks were pushed in after him, and on them was thrown a dozen or more pots of cold water. Of course a great steam immediately filled the hut, and the small opening was closed as tightly as possible by two mats.

We thought the man surely would be stifled, for it must have been much as if he had been held over a kettle of boiling water, forced to breathe in the steam; but those who had charge of the business gave little or no heed to his possible suffering. They squatted outside the hut, burning tobacco in the little stone bowls, until suddenly we saw the mats thrust aside, and the sick Indian crawled out, looking exactly as if he had been well boiled.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

The rest of the savages, who were puffing smoke from their mouths, did not so much as turn their heads, when the Indian, dripping with perspiration, leaped into the river.

I said to myself that if he did not count on drowning himself to escape the steam from the hot rocks, he would certainly be killed by going into the cold water while he was so warm; but in this I was mistaken.

He swam around while I might have counted twenty, and then, coming ashore, started on a run for the village, leaving his friends to go on with burning tobacco, or to follow him, as best pleased them.

Finishing the Cure

Jethro and I were so filled with curiosity to learn how long the sick man would live after such rough treatment, that we ran after him, coming into the village just as all the boys were forming in a ring on the cleared ground where I had often seen them play ball.

The Indian whom we had followed was well wrapped in blankets by this time, and had seated himself on the earth in the middle of the ring of boys. He had on his knees what looked to be a piece of board, worn, or ground, very smooth, and two small sticks.

You can guess that by this time Jethro and I had our eyes open very wide, for it was the oddest way of taking medicine we had ever seen.

The sick man began to tap on the board with the sticks, and sing, or howl, in the most dismal manner. I suppose he called it singing, but I couldn't for the life of me make out any tune, and am certain there was no music in his voice.

When he began to make this noise, the boys ran around him, sometimes leaping high in the air, and again darting out of the circle as if about to make an attack upon the fellow because of his not singing better. Then two of them would come together, with their hands on each other's shoulders, and spin around like tops, until they became so dizzy as to fall over, when they rolled out from under the feet of their comrades, while another couple went through the same antics.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

As we afterward learned, this leaping, running, and whirling around was a regular dance, and supposed to be a portion of the remedy necessary to finish the cure of him who had been so thoroughly steamed and then cooled off so suddenly.

The boys did their part until the sick man stopped howling, after which they went about their play or business, as if nothing out of common had taken place. The sick Indian carried the board and sticks into his but, and a few moments later we saw him walking around the village as if having entirely recovered from the illness. Then Jethro and I went slowly home, trying to make out how much the dancing and the howling had to do with working the cure.

Starting a Fire

There is one thing these Indians can do which Jethro and I fail in every time, and certain it is we have tried very hard to accomplish what seems exceedingly simple.

You know how difficult it is, when you are in a hurry, or your hands are numb with cold, to get a spark from flint and steel. Again, you may have succeeded in striking fire at the first blow, only to find that your tinder was damp, and refused to be fanned into a blaze.

Well, these Indians do not use a flint and steel when they want to start a fire; but contrive to do it by whirling a pointed stick in a bit of wood. I have taken particular notice that they always have a piece of very dry pine, sufficiently large to be held on the ground by their knees, and that a tiny hollow has been scraped in it, with the fine particles of wood, or dust, allowed to remain in the hole.

Then a long, well-sharpened stick, something after the fashion of an arrow, is held with the point resting amid the wood dust, and, holding the top between his hands, which are held with the palms together, the Indian twirls that around until you can see a tiny thread of smoke arise, when a blaze speedily follows.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

It seems like a very simple matter to twirl that stick until the wood becomes heated to the point of burning; but Jethro and I have tried it an hundred times without being able to come any nearer a fire than heating the dust fairly warm, and yet there isn't an Indian boy in either of the villages who can't do the trick without seeming to work very hard.

Cooking Indian Corn

It would surprise you to know in how many ways the savages cook Indian corn. Mother says that while she is not favorable to these brown women as cooks, believing they are not cleanly, we can learn very much from them in the way of preparing dishes from corn.

First, and that of which I have already told you something, comes the roasting of the kernels in the ashes, and then the pounding into meal by the use of the stone mortar and pestle. Whether it is the ashes which give the peculiar flavor, I cannot say, but this nookick, as the savages call it, is most pleasing to the taste, and father says that a very small quantity of it eaten at regular times, is sufficient for a laboring man, although for my part I would choose wild turkey, roasted until the skin is so brown and crisp that it breaks when you set your teeth into it.

However, Jethro and I have eaten nookick many and many a time; but not that of the Indians' making. Mother roasted and bruised it, and therefore we knew it was clean; otherwise it would not have been so pleasing to the stomach.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

The savages make bread in an odd fashion, and although I have never eaten any of it myself, there are many in this city of Philadelphia who have, declaring it to be fairly good. I have seen the Indian girls cook it more than once; but have never yet been able to coax mother into trying her hand at it, because she insists that it would be a sinful waste of good meal.

The Indians fill one of their clay pots halfway to the brim with water, and then drop in stones which have been heated as hot as fire will make them, until the water boils. In the meanwhile they have mixed little balls of corn meal and water, making each about the size of a baby's fist. These are dropped into the kettle and allowed to remain until well soaked, after which they are taken out and spread on a smooth stone in front of the fire to brown.

Jethro, who is not overly nice as to what he puts into his mouth, has eaten more than one of these odd cakes, and says they are good enough to satisfy him; but mother insists that there is such a thing as being too easily pleased.

Another Indian dish is what father calls "stirabout," and we have it right often, for it is both satisfying and healthful. It is made by stirring into boiling water the meal from Indian corn, until the mixture is so thick that a spoon will stand upright in it.

With plenty of sugar, or milk, or even with salt, one can make a hearty meal of it, and feel the better when it is done. Some of our people eat it cold; but mother thinks it should be brought to the table steaming hot, which is the Indian method of serving.

Mother cooks regular bread of the meal from the corn, baking a thin loaf in a pan, or on a smooth board, in front of the fire, and if one has a goodly supply of hot fat from meat to eat with it, he can make a glutton of himself without trying very hard.

Jethro's mother would say that one who talks overly much about eating has sinned in his heart, therefore I will come to that time when William Penn entered this city of his, and the story must of necessity be a long one, for we made merry and saw much that was interesting.

News of William Penn's Arrival

It was known to the people that our governor counted to be with us during the first summer after we arrived; but we could not know just when he would sail from England, and while we looked for him each day, it was somewhat of a surprise when an Indian runner came up from a place down the river called New Castle, where had settled a few Swedes and some Dutchmen, with the news that William Penn had come in the ship Welcome.

As we learned later, our William had bought from the Duke of York a very large tract of land on which was this town of New Castle, and when his ship anchored there, the agent of the duke came down to the shore with the key of the fort, thus proving he was willing to admit that Governor Penn was the lawful ruler.

Then, to show that he had the right to the land, our William went up to the fort, unlocked the door, stepped inside, and locked the door after him. In a few minutes he came out again and walked around the fort, in token that everything outside, as well as in, was his.

After this the Duke of York's agent brought to him a sod of earth in which was growing a small tree-sprout, and a dish filled with water, which was the same as saying that all the land, with everything growing on it, together with the streams and springs, belonged to William Penn.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

The Indian runner had seen this ceremony before he came to warn us of the visitor whom we burned to welcome to his own, and the savage said that he left our William sitting at table; but that it was the latter's purpose to come up the river to where we were, on the morrow, if the wind served.

We were not only to see him; but doubtless he had brought with him many Friends whom we knew, and there was no thought of work from that moment until we had sobered down somewhat from our rejoicings.

Our Humble Preparations

There was little we could do toward adorning the settlement. Houses were half built, with a great litter of logs lying around them, and the roads, not having been cleared of stumps, could be found only after much hunting for the marks on the trees that had been cut by Thomas Holme, when he measured the land so it should be in accord with the plan William Penn himself had made.

There were already up, in fairly good condition, fourteen or fifteen houses, including my father's, and the timbers of the dwelling to be made for William Penn himself were already in place; but there was no building which, to our minds, would lodge him properly.

However, as father said, he was coming to his own, knowing full well we had followed his instructions to the best of our ability, and if things were not fine enough, we could not be blamed.

The one matter which we did settle, was as to where he should first come ashore, for there we wanted to gather in order to give him such welcome as was within our power.

William Guest was building a tavern on the shore at the foot of the street which we counted to call Valley, because of its running through the lowest portion of the land. It was needed that we should have such a building in our town, for there were many men coming who had no wives and therefore could not well set up housekeeping alone, and some place had to be provided where they might have food and beds for a fair price.

Because of this tavern's being, so far as built, the largest house in the city, and because of its standing close by the water our people decided that we would gather at that point, and the half-finished building was covered with all the gay cloths and high colored blankets we could muster.

There is no need to say that the Indians soon understood that something unusual was afoot, and by sunrise next morning they came in from the villages until I question if there was left a single person to look after the huts.

At first Jethro and I believed the savages ought to be sent to their homes, for our governor should be welcomed only by his own people; but before many minutes had passed, we decided it was well for them to be there, because of their swelling the number waiting to receive him, and of giving to the throng a coloring which it otherwise would have lacked.

The headdresses of feathers worn by the savages could be seen here and there, making quite as brave a display as did our gay cloths, and I dare venture to say that never had this river of ours flowed past quite so important looking an assemblage.

The Welcome to Penn

We of Philadelphia had broken our fast some time before the sun gave any sign of rising, and when we had waited with more or less patience a full two hours, three Indians were sent down river in a canoe to learn if the ship was on her way.

The messengers were hardly more than out of sight before a large boat came within view, in which were a dozen or more men, and surely William Penn must have been pleased by the warmth of the welcome we were able to give him.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

All who had firearms discharged them in the air, Indians as well as white men, and those who could not make a noise in such manner shouted at the full strength of their lungs, until the uproar was so great that I can well fancy the animals in the forest were alarmed.

We knew it was our governor approaching, because of the number in the boat, and, besides, many of our people, including my father, had met him face to face. He must have known we were waiting to give him greeting, for he came to shore near where we were standing, but more than this about his coming for the first time into his own city I cannot say, because of the chief men of our new town, my father among others, straightway entering the half-finished tavern in company with the governor.

We lads were not allowed to go into the presence of the owner of the city with our elders, but perforce remained outside, and I am not certain but we enjoyed ourselves to a much greater extent than if we had been listening to conversation of which we could not understand overly much.

A Day of Festivities

The Indians had come out from their villages for a frolic, and the fact that the governor was hidden from their view did not prevent them from having it.

Some of the younger ones ran races, in which we lads joined; but we did not make a very good showing, for when it came to fleetness of foot, the savages could beat us out of sight.

That the day might be remembered, some of the women sent out food for all who were gathered around the pond; the Indians brought acorns, which we roasted by fires built for that purpose, and the squaws came laden with hominy, or Indian corn roasted before being bruised in one of the stone mortars, and then boiled. They also had baked a large lot of taw-ho, the root of a plant said to be poisonous; but the savages seem to thrive on it, as they do on katniss, which looks to be much the same as taw-ho, save that the roots are larger.

Well, as I have said, all the men and lads of the town who were not gathered at the tavern, as well as the Indians, squaws, and papooses, which last are brown babies, were gathered by the pond taking part in racing and leaping, when who should appear but our William Penn, having come to see those who were making his city.

As a matter of course, all the chief men followed at his heels, and we lads gave way, thinking it was not seemly to indulge in such trifling sports while the governor was present; but he, speaking as if we were his equals, insisted that the sports should go on.

He even seated himself on the ground where he could see what was being done, and one of the squaws, most like not knowing that William Penn was the owner of all the country, offered him roasted acorns and hominy.

To my surprise he took the food as if f it were something of which he stood greatly in need, and ate heartily while he watched the savages jump over each other's backs, every man striving to outstrip his neighbor in the distance leaped.

Penn Joins in the Sports

Then it was our governor did that which caused the heart of every lad present to warm toward him, for when the Indians had done their best, and the victor was pluming himself over the knowledge that he had distanced all the others, William Penn, throwing off his coat, made a straightaway leap, seemingly without exerting himself overly much.

A great shout went up from the Indians, who gathered around quickly to measure the distance covered, and then we white people yelled ourselves hoarse, for the governor had leaped a good four inches further than the best of the savage jumpers.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

From that moment our William Penn had a warm place in the heart of every man and boy, white or brown. He had shown that he was not one of those high and mighty ones, who, because of being set to rule over the people, holds himself aloof, as if made of better stuff than those under him, and we loved him for it.

The sports went on, after a time, the governor remaining with us, watching eagerly all that took place; but he did not give any further proof of what he could do, much to our disappointment.

Because of his eating what had been brought by the savages, as well as that sent to the pond by our mothers, the men of the town could do no less than follow his example, and while the women of Philadelphia were straining themselves to cook that which should particularly tempt the appetite, all hands were feasting on the food of the Indians.

A merry time did we have of it on that first day after William Penn came among us, and if it so be that there is ever a festival in Philadelphia which can surpass it, I shall be much surprised.

More Serious Business

When we lads went to our beds that night, and you may be certain we were not allowed abroad very long after sunset, it was said that a great gathering of the savages was ordered to be held as soon as the Indians from far and near could be summoned, when the land which had been given to William Penn by the king in payment of a debt due Admiral Penn, would be bought regularly from the brown men.

It did not seem to me necessary that anything of the kind should be done, for surely William Penn owned the land already, having paid a very large price for it when he wiped out the debt due by the king; but, as father afterward explained, it was not the purpose of our governor to deprive any man of that to which he had reasonable shadow of claim, and because of the Indians' having always lived here in this country of Pennsylvania, the governor counted on making a regular bargain with them, as if he had no right whatsoever to it.

After so much merrymaking, it was hard to get down to ordinary work on the next day. It seemed to me as if we lads might be permitted to follow the governor as he made careful inspection of the bounds of the new city; but our fathers thought otherwise, and I was forced to spend the time when much of importance was being done by my elders, in helping make a huge oven at the back of our home.

What a Bake Oven Is

By this time we had not only mortar, but bricks, and men among us who knew how to lay them up; therefore father had hired a mason to make a bake oven, wherein could be cooked at one time food enough for two or three families.

We had built to this house of ours a big chimney of stones, well laid in mortar. It was on the back end, where the logs of the building were cut apart to give room for a fireplace, and father decided to have the oven on the outside of the dwelling, so that it could be joined directly to the chimney without danger of setting fire to the house.

When it was done, he counted to have built over it a small shed, and thus mother could do a week's baking without making too much of a clutter in the kitchen.

Already had I fashioned a most beautiful peel of laurel wood for mother, and I dare venture to say that in all America you could not find one more to your liking.

What is a peel? Why neither more nor less than a wooden shovel with a long handle, on which bread can be thrust into the oven, else how could the housewife push the dough into a pit eight or ten feet long, when it was heated almost red-hot?

Perhaps you do not even know what a bake oven is, therefore I will try to describe ours, which was as large as any in Philadelphia, excepting, of course, those to be found in the taverns, where they had need to cook a large amount of food at one time.

Imagine a huge box, with a rounded top, made of bricks, set fairly against a big stone chimney, and connected with it by an uptake, or hole, for the smoke to pass through. This box has a floor of three thicknesses of bricks, laid as smoothly as possible, and an iron door in which has been made an opening with a sliding covering to serve as a draft hole.

Baking in the New Oven

When one needs to use the oven, a fire is built inside, and kept roaring until the whole oven is heated as hot as possible. Then the embers and ashes are raked out with a sort of wooden hoe, having a long handle, so that he who uses it may, not be burned, and afterward swept clean with a broom of twigs.

When the housewife counts to bake bread, oak leaves are thrown into the oven to the depth of half an inch. The peel is then sprinkled with meal, and on this is put the dough. Now one has only to thrust the peel inside the oven to where the oak leaves are spread, give it a quick twist, and, because of the meal, the dough will slip off directly where one desires to have it.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Then the pots or pans in which are meats, can be shoved in wherever is the greatest space, and the door of the oven not only closed, but banked up with the embers that have just been taken from the inside.

After that has been done, whatever is within must of a necessity be cooked, if you leave the oven closed long enough. It is a great convenience in any house, and I can but smile as I think of how mother puttered about trying to cook first this and then that in the Dutch oven, when now she can have everything under way at one time with little or no trouble.

After the oven had been built, I was given the task of making the shed to cover it, and this at a time when all was excitement in our town because of the governor's being with us.

It gives me no little pleasure to say that I kept about my work despite the merrymaking on every hand, until I had built for mother what she was pleased to say was the neatest and most convenient room for making ready the food, that could be found either in England or America.

It was fortunate for me that I had kept sharp at my tasks, otherwise they would not have been finished on the day when William Penn had a meeting with all the savages who could be summoned from far and near.

Penn Plans to Buy Land from the Savages

As I have already said, he counted to buy from them the land which had been paid to him by the king, and the savages were not only ready, but willing, to sell, as could be seen when they were come together. There were no scowls on the brown faces, and from the chiefs to the youngest squaw, every one appeared to be pleased at thus having opportunity to bargain away a small portion of the country when they could, without much labor, find equally as good places for their villages but a short distance off.

That which puzzled me was, whether William Penn counted to pay them in wampum, or if he believed they would take gold and silver money; but I soon came to understand that neither metal nor beads would play any very great part in this bargaining.

Early in the morning on the day appointed for the meeting, huge boxes, which had been brought on shore from the Welcome, were carried with much labor to a big elm tree that stood in a cleared space nearby where Thomas Fairman's house had already been built, and where others were being put together.

Here it was that the Indians assembled, according to the word which had been sent to their villages the night before, and when Jethro and I arrived the whole feathered crowd was seated in a half circle on the ground, the men in the front rows, the older boys next, and beyond, the children and the squaws.

The big boxes stood near at hand in readiness to be opened when the proper time should come, and I noted that every brown man, woman, and boy had his or her eyes fixed intently upon them, most like wondering, as did Jethro and I, what could be inside.

The Meeting of Penn and the Indians

The forenoon was more than half spent before William Penn, followed by nearly all the men of the town, came in sight, walking slowly as if bent on business of great importance.

I had looked to see our governor blossom out in gorgeous garments, for surely it seemed fitting he should appear in his bravest attire when the savages were decked in all the feathers and beads that could be come at; but, to my disappointment, he wore the same sad-colored coat and breeches as when he first came ashore.

He had, however, girt around his waist, a blue silk sash of fine network, the ends of which hung below his knees, displaying no little of fringe. It would have given me great satisfaction if he could have buckled on a sword; but that I did not expect, for Friends do not wear warlike weapons, and our governor was too strict a Quaker to offend for the sake of showing himself in finery.

When he arrived with the other men, the savages never lifted so much as an eyelash, and I wondered greatly why some of our people did not tell them to show at least so much of respect to the governor, as to stand on their feet when he came toward them.

William Penn and the others of our men gathered in a little group near the big boxes, and when they were come to a halt, looking as if ready to go on with the business, I saw one of the oldest Indians, who was seated in the very front row, whisper to a younger savage, whereupon this last got on his feet, beginning to talk in his own language.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

I could gather a word here and there, enough to give me a smattering of what he was saying, and knew the savages were bidding our governor welcome to the country.

Nearby William Penn stood an Indian who could talk in English right well; he told the governor what the other fellow was saying, and when the speech was come to an end, our William made "great talk" to the brown people.

He told them we had come to live in their world, if so be they were willing, and would pay for all the land we used. I didn't quite like it because of his failing to say that the king had already given him the whole country, and that therefore he could do as he pleased without asking leave of anybody; but perhaps it was best to make the brown men understand that we believed they bad better right to the place than had we.

The governor also told them that all Christians should love each other, striving always to do good instead of wrong, and every time the governor stopped to breathe, they would speak out as if to say it was all right. When he wound up saying he would now show what he had brought to pay for the land, there was considerable noise and excitement, some of the younger men getting on their feet, but onlv to sit down again right soon, as if ashamed of having shown so much interest.

The Price Paid for the Land

Then some of our people opened the boxes, and you may be certain that Jethro and I stretched our necks even longer than the Indians did theirs, as a famous lot of stuff was brought forth.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

We saw roll after roll of brown cloth, of the kind we call duffel, guns, cloth shirts, leather belts, shoes and stockings, combs for the hair, axes, knives, red paint, beads, and many other things which I need not here set down.

Verily there was a huge pile of goods when the boxes had been emptied; but, while I could not guess at the value of it all, I knew full well that we were not paying any very great price for our portion of America.

I believe the Indians were more than satisfied to sell their share of Pennsylvania for that which was before them. The older men were seemingly striving not to give any token of pleasure, although I could see their eyes sparkle when they looked at the axes and guns; but the younger men made no effort to hide their joy.

The goods were handled over and over by our people, in order that the savages might see exactly what there was in the lot, and after half an hour of thus showing the wares, William Penn bade the Indian who could speak English, to ask his people if they were willing to sell their land at the price offered, at the same time saying they were at liberty to live wheresoever they chose outside the bounds of the new city.

It was not needed that the chief of the Indians should make reply to this question, for the answer— could be read on the faces of all; but yet he had a good deal to say about being glad we had come into his country, and promised that he and all his people would treat us as brothers. He wound up by giving to our William a grand belt of wampum, which must have been of much value in their eyes.

The Gratitude of the Indians

Then a great feast of bread smeared with molasses, pickled beef, roasted pumpkins, nookick, hominy, and a dozen other dishes, all of which had been made by our mothers, was set before the savages, and the governor and chief men of Philadelphia, after eating a little to show their good will, went back to the tavern, for by this time it was fully built and had been given the name of Blue Anchor.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

It is in my mind that the Indians were well pleased when our fathers left them, for each one was eager to handle the price of the land, but did not want to show his eagerness while the white men were nearby to see him.

As for the lads, they cared not one whit, and when the governor and his following had disappeared, they fell upon the goods like crows upon a newly planted cornfield. Each chose what he most wanted, and it was left to the chief, an old fellow who was wrapped in two or three blankets, to say how the stuff might be divided.

The squaws didn't dare make too great a show of themselves; but now and then you would see one edge up to a package of paint, or a paper of beads, as if tempted to take possession boldly without asking leave. The children looked on the treasures from a distance, knowing only too well what would be the result if they dared lay hands on the poorest article.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Jethro and I had great sport watching the brown people, and at the same time I must confess that it would have pleased us right well to have some of the goods for our own, until the sun had set, when the savages, each man staggering under a burden, went to their villages, leaving us lads to attend to our chores for the night.

It was well that the Indians carried their goods away early, for otherwise Jethro and I would have been keen to stay until the last man had disappeared, even though there was good reason why we should get into bed at an early hour.

Trapping Wild Turkeys

Now was come the season when wild turkeys were plentiful, if one was willing to seek them at some considerable distance from the town, and because of our people's being so busy with their building, they could not spend very much time hunting; therefore turkeys, or any kind of game, were in good, demand at a fair price, such as a sixpence for a plump bird of twenty pounds or more.

Some of our Indian friends had told us how to make a turkey trap, and Jethro and I had laid our plans to go far into the forest on the morning after the day of buying the land, starting at the first gleam of day, to build it. Therefore it stood us in hand to get to bed early, otherwise we should not be in best condition for the work.

In case you have never trapped wild turkeys, I can tell you how to set about it in the simplest and best manner, for we caught many a big gobbler during that fall, before the winter snows came to put an end to the sport, and, with the money thus earned, sent to England for two pairs of the best skates.

Of course you must first find a place where the turkeys are in the habit of roosting, and once having found it, not let the birds see or hear you more than is absolutely necessary while building the trap. Therefore it is that your work should be begun after the turkeys have scattered to pick up their breakfast, and finished before they come back to roost at night.

What you want is a square cage built stoutly of saplings, with brushwood woven in on the top and sides in such manner that the biggest of the birds cannot force their way out after having been caught. Make the cage at least six feet square on the ground, and four feet high. On each side form a door of twigs, twelve inches wide and twice as high, made to swing from the top, and fastened open with a trigger and string, as if you were building a rabbit trap.

When all this has been done, and a covering of brushwood thrown around to hide, so far as possible, the work of your hands, scatter corn inside the trap, and make trails of it from the thickets up to each door.

Now the story of it is that the turkey, walking home to roost, for he does not fly to his sleeping place, comes across the trail of corn, and, like the greedy fellow he is, rushes forward, pecking here and there, always looking for a greater quantity, until he gets inside your trap. There he may or may not come upon the trigger that shuts the door; but some of those who follow him are certain to do so, and, what has always seemed to me strange, they do not have sense enough to walk out of one of the doors even when it is open.

You can safely count on getting at least four birds every night, and on more than one morning Jethro and I have found as many as ten big, fat fellows for whom we could get sixpence each.

It may puzzle you to know how we could get them out, without tearing the trap to pieces; but it was simple enough. In the top we left two or three of the saplings in such manner that they could be taken partly off, and through the hole thus made by removing them, we regularly fished for the birds with a slipnoose, catching them by the necks, after which it was only necessary to carry the game into town in order to get your sixpences.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

New Arrivals

We drove a flourishing trade in turkeys, owing to the fact that many people came to our city shortly after William Penn arrived, and, not knowing how or where to get game, they believed they were particularly fortunate in being able to buy such large birds for sixpence each.

That you may understand how we found customers, in a land where any one who had the least glimmer of common sense might go out into the forest a couple of miles and shoot all he could carry home, let me say that from the day our governor arrived, until the close of the year, twenty-three ships, all bringing passengers, had come up the river. You can readily fancy that, after having eaten salted food so long, these people were much the same as wild with delight at being able to buy so much fresh meat for so small an amount of money.

Unfortunately, so far as Jethro and I were concerned, we were not the only ones in the city of Philadelphia ready to turn an honest penny by playing the part of trappers.

Further down the river were a number of Swedes, who had been in the country of Pennsylvania several years, and they came almost daily to our city with game, or farm produce, for sale.

Then there were the Indians, who had nothing to do save hunt, and who knew better than any others where to find wild birds or beasts. They were keen enough to understand what an opportunity there was to sell fresh stuffs to these people who had been eating salt food so long as to be very nearly pickled themselves, and surely they took advantage of it.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

When some of the ships with passengers arrived, we who had made such an ado about the first baby born in our city, were not a little surprised to know that near to half a dozen babies had been born during the voyage, and, as father said, we thus had some of the very youngest settlers that ever came into a new country.

Jethro and I were inclined to look upon the first as something of a curiosity, and went on board the ship to see it; but as one after another came, the novelty was worn off, and our people would hardly turn their heads when a new baby was brought ashore.

When, however, one came who was called Sea- Mercy, we stared at her because of her having such a queer name, and, oddly enough, she was the ugliest of the lot.

A Government by the People

There is below Philadelphia, on the river, a settlement which was called by the Swedes, Upland. It is neither as large nor as promising as our town; but nevertheless it was to that place William Penn called the people together, after he had been here three or four weeks, to give us a regular government, such as is the rule in other countries.

You can guess that neither Jethro nor I were allowed to go to Upland, although we would willingly have walked there had our fathers given permission. It would have pleased me wonderfully to see this first meeting of law-makers in our country of Pennsylvania; but father said the people were to meet there on gravest business, and not to make a show of themselves, therefore it was no place for idle, curious boys.

I do not mean that all the men of the different settlements had a hand in this law-making, for the number would have been too great; but the people in each village chose one or more from among them, to take part in what was called the General Assembly.

They made many laws, so I have been told, and one of them was that all these laws should be set forth in fair script of the quill, to be used as a reading book in our school, when we have one.

The Promise of a School

And that we are soon to have a school I know, because of Jethro's having heard William Penn himself say he counted to have one opened as soon as a building could be provided, and a teacher found for the same.

There was not a lad in the town who did not burn with impatience for the day to come when he could begin to add to his store of knowledge, as would be possible when we had a school in Philadelphia.

It must not be supposed that we were wholly ignorant so far as concerns book-learning, for we had received some instruction in England, and many had been taught by their parents since we came to this country.

My father obliged me to study not less than two hours each day, save when work of considerable importance was to be done, and Jethro had much the same task set him; but what we could learn in such manner was little as compared with that to be gained in a regular school, therefore you may understand how eagerly we looked forward to the fulfillment of William Penn's promise.

Dock Creek Bridge

The next thing of consequence, after the law-making, that was done in Philadelphia by our governor, was the building of a bridge across Dock creek, which is the stream running through the swamp from the pond near High and Fourth streets.

Until this bridge was built, Cyrus Vanderpoel had kept a ferry at the Blue anchor tavern, taking people across for a penny; but it was a slow way to get over a short distance, and the new bridge, in addition to being a great convenience, gives our town much more the appearance of a regular city.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

It was while our people were building the bridge, and after the coming of snow had put an end to turkey- trapping, that Jethro and I hit upon a plan for earning money, and father was so much in favor of it that he declared we might be opening the way for a regular business.

The Nail Business

This scheme was to make nails, even though we had not been apprenticed to the work. You must know that it costs a pretty penny to bring nails from England, and at the time our people were busy building new houses we could not get enough from overseas, no matter how high a price we were willing to pay for them.

When I heard Jethro's father bewailing the fact that our iron workers could not turn out more than half as many nails each day as were needed, I asked myself why a strong lad who should have wits enough to fashion a nail, might not do so, even though he had not worked three or seven years at the trade.

When I spoke to Jethro regarding the money which might be made by those who would go into the nail-making business, at this time when they were in such demand, he claimed that any one, except a regular thick-head, could hammer out a bar of iron, and straightway insisted that we make a trial of it.

With some of the money earned by turkey-trapping, we bought a small quantity of old iron from the ship Endeavor, and father supplied us with what was needed to set up a forge back of our house.

Surely you would laugh, if I had the time and the inclination to tell you of all the foolish mistakes we made while trying to fashion a serviceable nail. More than once we were tempted to abandon the scheme, admitting ourselves beaten, and nothing save the fact that we could not well afford to lose the money, prevented us from burying the clumsy forge.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

The idea of earning money by trapping turkeys to squander it in old iron, was too ridiculous to be set down as a fact, else would we be jeered by every fellow in Philadelphia; therefore, the oftener we failed in our purpose, the harder we worked, until the clay came when we showed Jethro's father a nail, claiming that we could make as many in a day as he would need to use.

Now it must not be supposed that we were able to make a bargain simply because of its being Jethro's father. I verily believe he held us to stricter accounting than a stranger would have done, for he hung the nail up on one of the timbers of his house as a pattern, agreeing to take all we brought of that quality, and to pay the same price a like article would cost after having been freighted from England.

This was even better fortune than we had hoped for, and we set about the task without delay, knowing that by working industriously during all the hours of daylight, we two lads could earn not less than four shillings each day, and perhaps more, after we had gained experience.

We did our best to make better nails than the pattern, never allowing ourselves to slip in an imperfect one with the hope that it might pass unnoticed, and this I believe was a good rule, for before we had supplied Jethro's father with as many nails as he wanted, we were urged to work for others, with good promise of selling all we could turn out.

Buying Iron in New York City

But for the fact that it was not easy to get iron, we would have believed ourselves in a fair way to become rich. Before we had been running our nail factory a month, the supply of raw material gave out entirely, and for a time it looked as if we would be forced to remain idle until more metal could be brought from England.

Strange as it may seem, it was through William Penn that we were able to keep our factory running. He had let it be known that it was his purpose to visit New York city with the intention of conferring with the governor of that colony, and the ship Ranger was made ready to convey him.

Now it so happened that one of the seamen belonging to the ship was an old friend of ours, he having been on board the John and Sarah when we came over from England. One day, just before the Ranger sailed, he heard us bewailing our ill fortune in not having a plentiful supply of iron, and proposed that he buy for us in New York as much as we could pay for in gold or silver coin.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

And he kept his word, for when our governor returned from his visiting, we had iron bars enough to keep us busy at the forge a good three months, and you may be certain we did not spend any idle time, for it stood us in hand to work to the utmost of our strength while there was a possibility of selling all we could make.

I am not trying to make it appear that Jethro and I were so in love with hard work that it pleased us to stand at the forge, in stormy weather as well as pleasant, instead of going here or there with other lads in search of sport; but it seemed to us that we could better take our pleasure after the town was built, and in the meantime be making a little money.

No Merrymaking after Dark

We had counted, however, that we should be able to enjoy ourselves during the evenings; but among the new laws that were made, was one which put an end to overly much merrymaking after dark.

Governor Penn had settled it that the men of the town should take turns acting as watchmen, and two or three went around every evening about nine of the clock, to make certain none were abroad save in case of necessity.

Thus it was that many of the lads who were coming from, or going to, the Indian villages, were brought up with a round turn, and sent home with the unpleasant knowledge that on the following morning their fathers would be notified that a sound flogging was due them, for being out of doors in the evening without good and sufficient reason.

This obliging the men of our city to play the part of watchmen, cut short many a frolic which the lads would have indulged in, and, as Jethro said one day, perhaps it was just as well that our work at the forge kept us busy as long as it was possible to see, otherwise we might have been sent home by some of our neighbors, with a disagreeable time of it in prospect for the next morning.

William Penn had brought over a bell for the use of the city, and this was rung in the morning at breakfast time; then again when the hour came for beginning the day's work; and still again when it was time to go to dinner, and also to finish. In fact, we did all our business by that bell, and in case Samuel Preston, who had been hired to ring it, felt so disposed, he could bring us out of our beds half an hour too early, or keep us working just that much longer at night, if so be it was a cloudy day when we could not watch the sun.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Busy Days

I suppose because of our having shown ourselves good nail makers, some of the people believed Jethro and I might be able to do the work of men, therefore on this winter when the Friends' meeting-house was to be built near the river, we were asked to lend a hand.

It was to have a framework of logs, covered with good, fair boards on the outside, and with clapboards inside. Until this time the Friends' meetings had been held in this house or that, as was most convenient; but when Governor Penn had come, it seemed certain we ought to have some regular meeting-house.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Save for the fact that this inviting us to take part in the labor seemed to show we were looked upon as nearly men, instead of boys, I should not have felt pleased at being thus remembered; but we could not well refuse, since all the nails were bought from us, and, as our share, we put in three full days of work far more wearying than standing at the forge hammering iron.

By the time we had done with this job, Samuel Carpenter took it into his head to build a dock just above Walnut Street, and, instead of buying his spikes in England, he proposed to Jethro and me that he would furnish us with the iron at cost price, if we would fashion it into such shape as he desired, paying for the finished work the same amount of money that he would be forced to give in London.

Surely that was a contract to be proud of, when you consider that we were but little more than fourteen years old, and I swelled considerably when father, hearing of Samuel Carpenter's proposition, said he was glad to know I had shown myself worthy to be trusted by my elders.

How Jethro and I worked making those spikes! Again and again, when the men at the wharf were getting ahead of us, were we lads at the forge when the watchmen went their rounds looking for idlers or brawlers, and at such times the only light we had was that given by the red-hot iron we pounded into shape.

Enoch Flower's School

Two days before we had made the last spike for Samuel Carpenter, word was given by written notice posted on the corner of the Blue Anchor tavern, that Enoch Flower would open a school in his house.

His fee for teaching one to read English, was four shillings; for fitting a pupil in writing, six shillings; and if one wanted to learn how to read, write, and cast accounts, the cost would be eight shillings.

Now Jethro and I had in cash, wampum, furs, and in debts that could be collected, sixteen pounds English money, all of which we had earned by our own labor. In addition, we each had a pair of good skates, which should surely be reckoned in with our earnings, since they represented the capture of very many turkeys.

It was not necessary we should ask our fathers for money with which to pay Enoch Flower, and we decided to get all he could teach us, meaning that we would study reading, writing, and the casting up of accounts.

As I have already said, we could read and write at that time, thanks to our parents; but it seemed as if we should be able to learn a great deal more regarding such things at a regular school, therefore it was that we were willing to spend sixteen shillings.

Enoch Flower's house was by no means the most comfortable in town, and we were forced to sit on short lengths of stout logs, when, with a little labor, benches might have been made, for of a verity there was an ample supply of raw material at hand.

The school hours were from eight in the morning until twelve at noon. In the afternoon the teacher gave all his attention to spinning, for he was a master hand at such work, and thus we lads found plenty of time for home chores and as much of sport as we really needed.

We each read aloud one page from the Bible, or as much from the laws of Pennsylvania as would amount to the same in number of words, and the teacher carded wool meanwhile, in order that his time might not be wholly wasted.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Then, with half a clapboard held on our knees as a desk, we wrote twenty lines from either the laws, or the Book, if so be we had brought with us enough of paper to contain them, for it was not in the bargain that Enoch Flower should provide us with anything save a smoothly sanded board on which we could work out the sums in arithmetic that he made up to puzzle us.

We spent the greater portion of our time figuring on the number of pounds of wool required to make an hundred skeins of yarn, or the wages of a spinner for so many hours at such an amount per skein. But whatever the questions he put to us, we benefited much by the work, and not only learned to "cast up accounts" in the wool or yarn business, but how to spin and card, for the only punishment good Enoch Flower ever bestowed upon us when we were inattentive, was to oblige such disobedient pupils to help him in his daily labor.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

The End of Our School Days

In three months' time we had completed our course at school, unless we felt disposed to pay eight shillings more and go over the same routine; but neither Jethro nor I believed we should be warranted in so doing, for there was much work to be done in the building of the new town, and it seemed like willful waste to turn our backs on the forge when so many shillings could be earned making nails or spikes. Therefore it was we set about working old iron into shape once more, striving earnestly to make perfect wares.

I have since come to understand, however, that we had better never have forged a nail, than fail of gaining all the knowledge possible, for he who has not as much of book-learning as his fellows, is in a bad way when he comes to be a man grown.

More than once since Jethro and I went out from Enoch Flower's house for the last time as pupils, have I regretted most bitterly that I cast aside the one opportunity I had for learning that which is to be had from books.

Then, however, I said to myself that when another school was opened in Philadelphia, with a teacher who gave more time to the children than he did to carding or spinning, I would present myself as a pupil, no matter what the cost might be; but like many another foolish fellow before me, I reckoned on a chance which never came.

It was not until the year of grace 1689 that the Friends' school was opened, with George Keith, a Scotch Quaker and public preacher, as the teacher, and then I was not only too old, but had so many of worldly cares on my shoulders that school-going was out of the question, even though I had not been painfully ashamed to sit myself down with small children who could put me to blush because of knowing more than I did.

Therefore it is I know full well of what I write, when I set it down that the lad who fails to get whatsoever of knowledge he can in his early youth, is worse than a fool, and, if God spares his life many years, will spend the greater portion of them mourning over his folly.

The Settlement of Germantown

It was near about this time that a company of German people bought from William Penn many thousand acres of land, and began to build a town beyond us a few miles, as if it was in their minds to rival our city of Philadelphia.

Germantown was the name of the settlement, and Jethro and I were fair wild with envy when straightway these people built a grist mill, for we had no such luxury, and, in my mind, I cast reproach upon our people for having thus allowed men who had but just come into the country to outstrip us.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

What made the matter worse, from my point of view, was that our people were forced to carry their grain to the Germantown mill, unless they were minded to grind it by hand, and thus did it seem as if we of Philadelphia were already willing to confess that these Germans could force us to go to them, when it should have been in other way around, because of our having been longer in the country.

The name of the chief man in this settlement of Germantown, was Pastorius, and he was said to be very learned, speaking no fewer than seven languages, without counting the Indian tongue, which he may have picked up after coming to this country.

He, meaning this Francis Pastorius, was not a Friend, neither did he worship God according to the religion of Germany or England; but was, as father said, a seeker after strange gods, calling himself a Pietist, which, as nearly as I can make out, is the same as if he had said he was more inclined to piety, or religion, than were others.

However odd these settlers of Germantown may have been in their religion, father insists that they were good neighbors, and it was well we should have such as they come among us. There were thirteen families in this new village, and each had a house built in the middle of a three-acre lot of land, on which they straightway set about planting flax, for these people were said to be remarkably good weavers. If it had not been that they had a grist mill in their settlement, thereby outstripping us of Philadelphia, I should have been more kindly disposed toward them; but there was some little satisfaction in the fact that it was a Friend who had built the mill, and one who went regularly to our meeting; therefore these Pietists could not take to themselves so very much in the way of credit.

New Laws in Our Own Town

Our people had made one law during this year which was of no little concern to me, even though I did not profit greatly thereby, because of there being no way, save for the school kept by Enoch Flower, in which our people could obey it.

This was a law that every boy or girl must learn so much as to be able to read the Bible, and this before he or she was twelve years old, at which time the school days were over, and a trade, or something in the way of work by which a living might be gained, must be learned by each one, regardless of how great wealth the parents might have.

The children under twelve years of age were required to be able to write a clerkly hand, but more was not required by law; therefore when Enoch Flower had finished off his pupils, he could say that all necessary had been done, since I dare venture to say neither girl nor boy sat under his instruction without being able at least to card and spin.

It was the beginning of this law which pleased me in the wording, for there was good sound common sense therein, and I can repeat it even now, because of having been forced to read it so many times while striving to get the full value of the eight shillings I paid, out of the money earned by making nails, to Enoch Flower.

These are the words which father declared gave good proof that our William Penn was a man of wisdom, for he it was who set down them "To the end that poor as well as rich may be instructed in good and commendable learning, which is to be preferred before wealth,"—and verily learning is the only thing which a lad may have in this world that he cannot squander or lose, however much of a spendthrift he may be.

A Division of Opinion

Jethro has in his head a whim that we shall embark in the business of raising tobacco now, since William Penn has agreed that rent of land may be paid in this weed, and, therefore, it has come to have a stated value when laid down at Carpenter's wharf ready for shipment to England.

The lad claims that those Englishmen who went to Jamestown under the leadership of John Smith, so many years ago, are gathering much wealth by raising the weed, and also that those of our people who planted it this year just past, have received good returns for their labor.

My father says he will not cross me if my heart be set on embarking in such traffic, although at the same time he holds that it is a filthy business at the best, even though one keeps his own mouth clean from it. To my mind, the raising of tobacco is much the same as encouraging others in the use of that which works them injury, for no man may chew the leaves, or burn them in a pipe, without doing harm to his body.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

However, since no less than William Penn himself has fixed a price on tobacco, and it may be grown in this land to great profit, as has already been shown, the Friends cannot say very much against it, even though they approve not of handling the stuff.

Father believes that if Jethro and I are bent on embarking in some enterprise in which we shall continue through life, it is better we take pattern by the people of Germantown, and either set about raising flax or wool, or learn the business of spinning and weaving.

Jethro declares that he had enough of spinning under the guidance of Enoch Flower, and, as for spending his life in front of a loom, when he can work in the fields, or at a forge, he will not listen to it.

And thus it was that my comrade and I were somewhat divided in opinion at the close of this year of grace 1683, when came a wondrous change in my life, which bid fair to make of me a noted traveler.

A Matter of History

Now in order that you may understand that which happened of grave importance to our country of Pennsylvania, and also know why I had an opportunity of traveling, it is necessary I repeat to you that which was told me by my father.

It may be you will not think it in any way interesting; but I beg that you will read every word carefully, and afterward think the matter over until you understand it clearly, otherwise you may never be able to explain why one settlement was made in a certain place, and others elsewhere.

First, as perhaps you already know, when white people began to come into this new world of America, the English kings claimed it as their land, saying it was discovered by John Cabot, who had been given permission to go out exploring, by King Henry VII.

Columbus had discovered that there were large countries where white people had never visited; but the English king claimed that Columbus had not really found the land which we call America, for he ended his voyage at the West Indies.

John Cabot, however, so the English kings said, had explored all the coast of North America from Newfoundland to Florida, and therefore it belonged, by right of discovery, to England.

Then, as you know full well, after some Spanish people had built a town in Florida, and another near by, King James gave to two companies of merchants all the land in Virginia, and by that he meant the whole country of North America, which was then known only as Virginia.

To the London Company he gave that part of it in the south, where Jamestown was afterward built, and the Plymouth Company landed in the northern portion where Plymouth was to be laid out.

All that was done in the year of grace 1606, and at that time the English people did not know how large was this new world of America.

The Dutch people, however, sent Henry Hudson out exploring in 1609, and he found the river to which he gave his name, whereupon a company like unto the London and Plymouth companies, was formed in Holland under the name: of the West India Company, by which New Amsterdam was settled; but the English people captured the town and called it New York.

Trouble over the Boundary Lines

Now, as you also know, when King James I died, Charles I became king of England, and in 1632 he gave to Lord Baltimore a large tract of land in that portion of America where the London Company already had possession, setting down exactly, as he believed, the bounds of the country; but, because of the English people's not knowing very much about this world of America, the lines were considerably mixed.

As I have already told you, Charles II owed the father of our William Penn a large amount of money, near to sixteen thousand pounds, as I have heard it said, and to pay that debt, he gave to the son all the country which was afterward named Pennsylvania.

Therefore, as you can see, our William owned the land between that part of the country the king gave to Lord Baltimore and the Dutch settlement which had been captured from the West India Company; but exactly where the property of one left off and the other began, nobody seemed able to make out.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

You know, from what I have set down, that our William went over to New York shortly after he came to this country. At the time he did so, Jethro and I believed the journey was made simply because of his desire to see the city; but, later, we came to know it was on business concerning the claims which Lord Baltimore had already set up to the ownership of a goodly part of Pennsylvania.

When one stops to think how large this country of America is, and how much more land it contains than could be used even if half the people of England should come here to-morrow, it seems childish to quarrel over a few acres of forest more or less; and yet the settlers of Virginia were claiming that those of Maryland were crowding too far toward the sea, while, in turn, Lord Baltimore insisted that our William Penn had laid claim to a portion of the country which had been given to him.

And thus it was with the desire to settle in a friendly way the bounds of Pennsylvania that our governor would again have speech with Lord Baltimore.

Members of the Governor's Following

All this seems rather a roundabout way of telling that I went abroad with our governor; but I could not well do it in a less number of words, otherwise you would be puzzled as to our reason for going, and also at a loss to understand what happened later.

How it chanced that William Penn had singled me out as one of his company, I have no idea; but positive it is that when I went to my home on a certain night, my father told me of the great honor which was mine.

The governor had said in so many words, that it would please him to have me in his following during a journey to Maryland, not as a servant, but rather to add to the list of his company, for it was not seemly the ruler of a country as large as Pennsylvania should go abroad with no more than a handful of men at his heels.

My mother was greatly concerned by the news, for the journey was to be begun within eight and forty hours, and she did not believe I could be outfitted properly in so short a time. It would not be honoring our governor if I went in shabby apparel, and a boy who is growing fast soon leaves behind him everything in the way of costume, if so be he does not follow his increasing stature with new garments.

Father laughed at my mother's anxieties, declaring I was grown so tall that I could wear becomingly anything of his, and in a twinkling I had before me all that could have been desired in the way of garments, even though I had been going to call upon the king himself.

My coat was of black velvet with laced cuffs and pocket-flaps; my waistcoat buff, as were my breeches. I had the finest of black silk stockings, with large buckles of silver on my shoes, and the ruffles for my neck and wrists were made of the best lace my mother had in her possession.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Of course such a costume was not seemly for a tramp through the woods, nor did I count on wearing it until we were come near to the town where we should find Lord Baltimore. I had jack boots, stout corduroy breeches, a short coat of sad-colored cloth, and a cap of gray, to wear on the journey. My finery was to be carried in the carts with the governor's baggage.

Father had been told that our company was to journey by ship to New Castle, and thence across the country to the head of Chesapeake Bay, where would be found boats to carry us by water to Maryland.

The carts were to be sent on one day in advance of us, that thev might be at New Castle when we arrived, and with them would go several horses for the governor and some of the chief men of the company.

The remainder of the party would trust to their own stout legs, being able to move quite as fast as the others, for horses cannot go at any rapid pace over a country as rough as ours, and even though they might out-strip us for a time, it would be necessary to make long halts in order that the baggage carts be not left too far behind.

It is not needed for me to say that I was in high glee at thus being allowed to travel in such state, and when Jethro came over in hot haste to my home late that night, stating that he also had been named as one who was to go with the governor, my cup of happiness seemed full to the brim.

How we two lads got through the next day I am unable to say; it was as if we walked on air, with our heads held high, for surely we must have been of some consequence in this country of America, otherwise William Penn would not have gone so far out of the way as to call us by name when he was making up a list of his company.

Jethro mourned because of his hands' being hard and grimy, owing to our work of nail-making; but I insisted that such marks of honest labor became us far better than would flesh so soft and white that one would know we had not been accustomed to work as lads should, who count on helping to build a city in the wilderness.

As father has said again and again, he is a poor addition to any town in a new country like ours, who cannot turn his hand to every kind of work that may be needed, and it is the drones, or the gent

A Proud Departure

The carts and the saddle horses were sent ahead, as I have said, and you may be certain Jethro and I had a hand in stowing the goods, not only that the people might see we had become members of the governor's following, but to make certain our fine clothes were where they would not come to harm.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

An hundred or more curious ones stood around with mouths agape when the carts set off, and I was almost inclined to feel sad for those who were not so fortunate as Jethro and myself.

But next morning, when we gathered at the Blue Anchor tavern to take ship, you should have seen the throngs of people! It was as if the king himself were starting on his travels, and Jethro and I were among those to be gazed at, rather than with the gazers.

The ship Good Will was lying at anchor in the stream, and hauled upon the shore, with the seamen standing near at hand awaiting our movements, were the small boats in which we were to be taken on board.

It may seem like boasting, but it is nevertheless true, that when William Penn came out of the tavern to take boat, he gave me good morning, calling me Stephen of Philadelphia, as if the words had a merry sound in his ears, and I know full well my cheeks were as red as any girl's, because of the pleasure such familiar greeting gave me.

Certain it is that I held my head high when I stepped into one of the boats just as the cannon on the Good Will belched forth fire and smoke with a mighty roar, and so puffed up with pride was I, it really seemed necessary to remind Jethro that nail-makers were surely to be envied, since they could go abroad in such state that a cannon must needs be shot off when they embarked.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

He reminded me that we might have grown gray-headed stepping on and off a ship's boat, without ever hearing the smallest cannon speak, if only nail-makers were abroad, and asked if I remembered the fable of the jackdaw with the peacock's feathers.

While we were being rowed from the shore to the ship, the people shouted themselves hoarse, and our governor bowed again and again, after which, evidently thinking there had been enough of such nonsense, he held his neck stiff, never looking back again until on the deck of the ship.

We had hardly more than embarked, when the anchor was weighed and the sails hoisted, every seaman working as smartly as if on board one of the king's ships, and then came a great rattle of small arms from the shore in our honor, which was replied to by the cannon of the Good Will.

Then my mother waved her kerchief as if I were bound for the wars, and Jethro whispered sportively that it was a sad loss to our city of Philadelphia for its two nail-makers to leave it, even for so short a time as would likely be spent on the journey.

The ship began to move away from the city, which as yet was hardly more than an opening in the wilderness, slowly at first, and gathering speed as she caught the force of the wind and current, until we could no longer see the throng at the Blue Anchor.

It was a glorious morning, and we two lads were as happy as the birds appeared to be, watching curiously this river of ours which seemed quite as strange as when we sailed up it the first time, so intent on watching for some signs of our new city, and so eager to be on the solid earth once more after many weary days at sea, that we hardly realized how beautiful it all was.

The Settlement of Chester

It was to Jethro and me, who were filled with wonder and delight at everything we saw, as if the ship had hardly more than started before she was sailing past that settlement of Chester, or Upland as it was called when our William Penn stopped there, after leaving New Castle on his arrival in this country.

I heard him say to one of the company, as he pointed toward a big house not far from the river bank, that there lived Robert Wade, a Friend, who had provided the governor with a barge that he might come on to us at Philadelphia.

Jethro, who was curious regarding this little settlement which the governor had chosen as the place where the people of Pennsylvania should meet to make the laws, asked many questions of the members of our company, thus learning that the first persons to build houses at this town of Chester, which was then called Upland, were some Friends, who came there six years before we who sailed in the John and Sarah left London.

It was near this place that our ship Factor was frozen in, during the first winter we spent in the country of America, and those who were then on board of her came to believe the settlement would, in time, grow to be larger than the city we were building.

Dining in State

At noon Jethro and I were summoned to a dinner in the great cabin, where we sat at the table with the governor and all the other members of the company,

and while there was food of dainty kinds and in great abundance, I did not have as much pleasure in the eating as many a time in my own home when we had no more than the ordinary fare.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

It was no fault of any person that I failed in getting as much of enjoyment as should have been my portion, but my own fear lest I might fail in behaving as was seemly. Never before had I partaken of a meal with people of such quality as were gathered in the great cabin of the Good lhill, and I was on nettles every moment, thinking I might ignorantly do this or that which would bring reproach upon my parents.

I was in good truth heartily glad when the governor rose from the table, thus giving permission to us, and I scrambled on deck as soon as it was possible to leave the cabin without seeming to run away, there to turn over and over in my mind all I had done during the dinner, striving to make out if I had behaved properly.

Jethro, who had had no such misgivings, laughed at me for a simple when I told him what was in my mind, declaring that I had come off with credit to myself; but this assurance did not tend to make me feel more comfortable, because of my being uncertain as to whether or not he was a fit judge.

Anchored off New Castle

It was near to sunset before we were come to anchor off New Castle, at which place our William had first stopped when he came over in the ship Welcome, and there took possession, with no little of odd ceremony, of the land he had bought from the Duke of York.

There was not much of interest to be seen, except the fort, for the settlement was as yet hardly more than a halting place in the wilderness, even though it had been called a town for many years. While we lay at anchor, waiting for the boats to be made ready that the governor might go on shore, Thomas Masters, one of William Penn's advisors in the Council, told me that as early as the year 1631, fifty years before we had come to America, the Swedes built a fort here, calling the place Stockholm.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

The Dutch from New Amsterdam, which is now New York, came over and captured the, place, when they named it Sandthock. Two years later other Dutchmen came, and for some reason, Thomas Masters did not know what, the settlement was then called Nieu Amstel, and this, later, was changed to Fort Kasimir.

Many years before we came to Philadelphia, the English took possession of the place, and re-named it Delawaretown; but the Duke of York, who owned all the land hereabout before he sold it to our William Penn, made the name New Castle; and so it was known in 1677, when no less a party than two hundred and thirty, nearly all Friends, came from England with the plan of making a town where they would be safe from persecution by those who claimed to believe that Quakers did not worship God in a seemly manner.

But because of there being already here in New Castle so many people of a different faith, and Thomas Masters declared there were not less than thirty persons in the settlement, the Friends, fearing trouble might arise, went to Chygoe's island, which is further up the river.

I wondered much because of our people of Philadelphia not having sought out this colony, that they might be persuaded to join us; but it seems that William Penn is not eager to have in his country those who cannot buy the land on which they settle; first, because of his needing the money which would thus be paid, and, secondly, because of its being for the benefit of all Pennsylvania that the people who come here have as much of this world's goods as will prevent their being a charge upon others, in case of sickness or accident.

An Uncomfortable Night and Morning

Because of its being so near to the setting of the sun, when we arrived off New Castle, the governor decided he would not take his following ashore until morning; but he, with two others, went into the fort to sleep, while the rest of us lay in the ship, as best we might, for there were not bunks enough in all the vessel to give each of us and the seamen a bed.

Jethro and I lay on the floor of the cabin, near the stairs which led to the deck, with our doublets rolled up to serve as pillows; and each time anyone of the company went out or came in, which was often, we were forced to rise to our feet, otherwise we might have been trampled on.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Right glad were we when morning came, and then all was bustle and confusion, for the governor had sent word on board that there must be no delay in making ready for the march.

When we were come to the shore, Governor Penn and his friends were already in the saddle awaiting us with no little of impatience. The carts, in which was the baggage, had been sent on ahead some time before, and we were no more than out of the small boats when the line of march was taken up.

When the governor's orders were sent to us to make ready to come on shore, the cook of the ship had not yet prepared anything for the morning meal, therefore we were forced to break our fast with cold pickled beef and such fragments of bread as could be gathered in a hurry.

I am not one who thinks of his stomach before anything else, yet I am free to confess that I was not well content in mind to begin the day without other to eat than what had been dealt out on board the ship, nor did I find much comfort in the knowledge that there was little likelihood we would have more food until night bad come again.

However, neither Jethro nor I grumbled overly much, perhaps because of our companions' being so loud and so persistent in their complaints. Since we had been allowed to follow the governor, we surely could put up with so slight a trouble as lack of food, and we marched steadily on, saying again and again to ourselves that hunger, even though we suffered from ittwo full days, was none too great a price to pay for the privilege of visiting Maryland in the company of William Penn.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Fortunately we arrived at the river a good hour before sunset, where we found awaiting us two fine barges which had been sent by Lord Baltimore, and, what was even more to our liking, food in abundance ready for eating.

A Dull Journey

We slept on the barges that night, remaining in the river because it was not deemed wise to begin the voyage during the darkness, and when morning came Jethro and I changed our costumes, putting on all the finery that had been sent in the carts, for we foolishly believed the end of the journey to be near at hand.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

I hardly dared move during all that day, lest I should work some injury to father's coat; but, luckily, there was nothing to be done save sit idle until another night had come, and then it was that Jethro and I learned that the journey was likely to be a weary one. Long before the end of the voyage, my joints were stiffer, with remaining so long in one position, and my bones ached more sharply than when we were driven sharpest at nail-making.

In Lord Baltimore's City

Finally, as we were come near to Lord Baltimore's city we saw a file of soldiers on the river's bank, and I was not a little alarmed, fearing lest some mischief might be intended; but we soon came to know that the squad had been sent to escort Governor Penn with all ceremony to his lordship's palace.

We marched through the streets in soldierly array, Jethro and I holding our heads so high, lest we should show ourselves louts, that we failed to see very much of the town until arriving at Lord Baltimore's house, and verily it was more beautiful than I had believed possible.

Here we halted, and William Penn, with the elders of his party, entered the wonderful building, but without leaving any commands for us who represented the guard of honor, and during a certain time we stood there on the street looking this way or that, not knowing what it was our duty to do.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Had not Governor Penn been a Friend, and therefore forbidden by his faith to take any part in warlike proceedings, we two lads would have been called members of his body guard. Since, however, a Quaker could not well surround himself with soldiers, we were, in a certain sense "hangers on," as Jethro put it, and had good reason to believe we should be forced to shift for ourselves in the matter of food and lodgings.

Because of such belief we were filled with astonishment when, as we were turning away from his lordship's palace with its guard of armored soldiers, we were accosted by a young fellow of sprightly appearance, whose gorgeous costume told that he must be of Baltimore's following.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

Speaking to us in a friendly tone, with no evidence of wanting to turn up his nose because of our grimy hands, which he must already have noticed, for the tokens of the forge were all the more plainly to be seen because of our wrist-falls of lace, he asked where it was our pleasure to go.

I was not so puffed up as to believe that my Lord Baltimore felt any care concerning us, therefore I replied lightly, making it appear as if we gave no thought concerning the future; but he soon made it plain that he had been charged with our welfare.

If we had been young lords, he could not have been more kindly as he explained that Baltimore could not give all of Penn's following quarters at the palace, because of lacking the necessary apartments, therefore we two were to be lodged with one of the citizens. It was his advice that we go with him to be made acquainted with the family, after which, if it was our desire, he would conduct us around the town.

It seemed far too much honor for two lads like Jethro and me to be thus served by such a foppish young sprig, who was gay in costume of pink and silver, with a jewel-hilted sword hanging by his side, yet we were not so churlish as to say "nay" when he evidently expected "yea."

A Splendid Home

He conducted us but a short distance from I.ord Baltimore's house, to a building the like of which I had never until that moment believed could be found in this new land of America, and halted before the door to summon a servant, by raising and letting fall a heavy brass knocker that shone like newly minted gold.

A black man, dressed in what seemed to me a most fanciful fashion, gave us entrance as if we were lads of quality, and while I was yet in a daze because of the beautiful furnishings everywhere around, we stood before a lady who was like unto a queen, having beside her a young girl of about my own age, and exceedingly lovely.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

What our conductor said I hardly knew; but I gathered my senses so far as to understand the lady's name and that the girl was her daughter Amy.

Jethro's fingers fastened on my arm with a grip that at any other time would have been painful, when we were told that this wonderful house was to be our home while we remained in Lord Baltimore's city, and then a black man, in the same fanciful costume as he who waited at the door, conducted us to a room on the floor above, where he asked what we would have for our comfort.

I was still in too much of a daze to make sensible reply; but understood dimly that my comrade answered him properly, and then we were left alone, whereupon Jethro, again seizing me by the arm with a heavy grip, as if he had in his hands the sledge and was about to make more nails, said in a voice that was choking with mirth:

"Verily, Stephen, for two Quaker lads we are come upon strange quarters. I am thinking my father would warn us to flee from the halls of the ungodly, if he could see us attended by black men as if we were of the king's house!"

A Question of Duty

It was in my mind that we should depart at once, because of not knowing how to conduct ourselves properly. There was no thought that we, being Friends, should hold ourselves the equals in rank of any whom we met; but rather I asked myself how we could make excuse to our hostess, to the end that we might make shift for ourselves among the common people.

When I gave words to the thought Jethro would hear none of it; but declared that since, without any scheming on our part we had come into such luxury, we were bound to enjoy it, although he did admit that two nail-makers, or turkey-trappers, like ourselves, were out of place in such a dwelling.

It was well we were thus left alone during a certain short time, since it gave us opportunity to remember that we had been bred to gentle ways, even though our homes were so far different from this one, and when we had combed our hair to a nicety, pulling out our wrist-falls till the lace came somewhere near to hiding our grimy hands, we went down the stairs that had on them a soft, beautiful covering, far too rich, as it seemed to me, for one's shoes.

The lad who had brought us hither had departed while yet we were in the chamber trying to become acquainted with so much of splendor, and when we went to the room below, the girl Amy took upon herself the duty of hostess, as if we were her own particular guests.

Amy of Maryland

She insisted that we tell her of our city of Philadelphia, how we lived and what we did, and while trying to picture the town we had helped build in Penn's country, I forgot all else, thus being able to conduct myself like a fairly decent lad, instead of playing the lout, as when we first met her.

Never before had I felt displeased with anything Jethro did; but on this day it would have been more to my liking had he been back in Philadelphia, for it was in my mind that he held far too much conversation with Amy, leaving me on the outside.

However, I believed it my duty to tell her that we two lads were not of the same cloth as he who had brought us hither, and explained that we held no place in William Penn's household, save during this visit to Maryland.

Jethro would have checked me with a glance when I went on to tell of our making nails, of trapping turkeys, or of learning to spin in Enoch Flower's school; but I was minded she should take us for what we really were, instead of judging by the fine clothes we wore only during the time we were of William Penn's following. It was while we were talking of our city in Pennsylvania that Jethro spoke to me as Stephen of Philadelphia, whereupon the girl broke into a hearty laugh, declaring we must be cousins, at least, since his lordship had insisted that she be known as Amy of Maryland.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

When I pressed her to know why the name had been given her, she flushed rosy red, refusing to make reply, whereupon I plucked up courage enough to say I believed it was because she was the daintiest and the sweetest to be found in the colony. Then her face grew even a deeper red, and, as if to turn the subject, she proposed that we walk about the city.

The Shops of Maryland

This we did, as a matter of course, for if she had bidden me to stand on one leg I believe of a verity I would have done so to the best of my ability, and once we were on the street there was no other opportunity to urge that she tell me why she was known as Amy of Maryland.

That which struck me most oddly in his lordship's town, was the number of black slaves to be seen. It appeared as if there were at least two to every white man, and while our Indians of Philadelphia were in my eyes more manly, I was forced to confess that these black fellows behaved in a most seemly manner.

Another matter which attracted my attention, was the number of shops wherein were goods equal to any that could be seen in London, whereas we of Philadelphia could boast of but two, and in both of those only ordinary merchandise was on sale.

I had brought with me a goodly part of all my money, counting to buy for my mother some token to remind her that I had been during a certain time of Governor Penn's following, and when I said as much to Amy of Maryland, she seemed as eager as I, pointing out this thing or that, which I knew. full well would cost more of money than I had ever earned by the labor of my hands. It was when I was beginning to despair of finding what would come within the limits of my purse, that my eyes lighted upon two flasks of glass.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

I had heard of such things, but never had the pleasure of seeing them before, and, luckily, the price for two was but eight shillings. I paid the money at once, and the shopman stowed both most carefully in a box of wood, so that I might not break them on the journey home, for, as he explained, this ware is so delicate that a slight, blow will send it into an hundred pieces.

The Result of the Visit

It was more like a dream than a reality to be living in this colony of Maryland, and although the desire was great in my heart to see my mother once more, I was saddened when word was sent Jethro and me that on the morrow the journey back to Philadelphia would be begun.

As to the business on which we had come, I knew little regarding it, since, of course, it would not have been seemly in a lad like me to ask information from my elders concerning affairs of state: but I heard enough as we journeyed, to understand that Lord Baltimore had not given way in any degree. He claimed most stoutly that our William had taken unlawful possession of what belonged to him, and even went so far as to say he should complain to the king.

These differences of opinion did not give any unpleasant color to our visit, however. When we marched down to the river, to take boat, his lordship carried our governor in his own coach, and his soldiers marched with us who were on foot, as if to show friendship.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

I wore on my left arm, where all might see, a knot of blue ribbon which Amy of Maryland had given me in token that I was to be her knight during the battle with the wilderness in Pennsylvania, and Jethro took it upon himself to make sport of it; but I soon gave him to understand that it would not be well to speak slightingly of the matter, if he and I were to remain friends.

The journey home was not far different from our going forth, and when we were come to Philadelphia, I forgot all the luxuries of Lord Baltimore's town in the joy of being with my own people once more. When a fellow has been absent from his mother, even for a short time, he comes to realize how dear she is to him, and what a blank world this would be to him without her. In all my life I was never so happy as when, after the governor had dismissed us with kindly thanks, I felt her dear arms around my neck, and her lips on my cheek as she thanked God I was come to her again.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

After having been such a traveler, and strutted around a full day clad in father's finery, it was a bit hard to lay aside the borrowed plumes and bend my back to hard work.

Philadelphia Progresses

But there was plenty of this waiting to be done, for Samuel Carpenter was about to build a coffee-house on the river bank at the foot of Walnut Street, for the better serving of strangers, and not only asked Jethro and me to make the nails, but promised, in case he put up a bakehouse, as was in his mind, we should have other work at the forge that would bring in more wages.

I had already said to myself that I would go to the people in Germantown to learn the art of weaving, father having declared that one might build up a good trade in such work; but there was no reason why I should not do what Samuel Carpenter desired, if for no other purpose than to get more money with which to embark in the new business.

Until this time all our boards had been sawn by hand, one man standing above the timber, and another below. Now, however, we were to have a mill for such purpose, which would not only tend to make possible quicker work in the way of building; but serve to prevent the Germans from pluming themselves on having the only mill in the country.

In fact, our city grew as I had never believed it could, until, instead of being a settlement in the wilderness, it was as fair a town as one could ask to look upon; and I had come to believe, because of my own affairs' prospering so finely, that our Philadelphia would soon stand equal to any of the cities I had seen in England, save, perhaps, London, when came that blow which brought deepest sorrow to our hearts.

William Penn Goes Back to London

Lord Baltimore had kept his word, to the extent of lodging complaint before the Ping of England regarding our William Penn, claiming that he had taken possession of lands belonging to the colony of Maryland, and it was necessary that the governor go without delay to London, else might we find ourselves deprived of all the fruits of our labor.

I could not, if I would, describe our feelings so that you might fully realize how sad we were, and how fearful regarding the future, when it was settled that our William Penn should set sail on the fourth day, in the sixth month of 1684, in the ketch Endeavor.

To many it seemed as if the building of our city had come to an end at the very time when it was most full of promise, and even those who believed the work would go on as well in his absence, had bitter fears regarding what might come to us Friends, who were so despised and persecuted in other colonies of America, when he was gone from among us.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

To enter into our sorrows at this time, one must have been driven from town to town, imprisoned, whipped, or been punished by having his tongue pierced with a hot iron, all because of his faith, for such was the portion of us Quakers in this new

world where so many had come in order to worship God after their own manner, but who would not allow others to do the same.

We of Philadelphia had not been loud-voiced regarding our religion. We did not claim to be heard because of much speaking. We had made for ourselves a city, and tried to hold possession of a country where we might go our way, molesting no man even when he injured us, doing unto others as we would be done by, and living such lives as we believed would be pleasing in the sight of God.

In striving to keep ourselves clean from sin we had as a model and friend, our William Penn, he who had suffered persecution for the faith; and when one was grown weary with battling against wrongful inclination, it was only needed we should go to our governor, whose ears were ever open and whose heart was as warm toward us as his advice was kindly and wise. His was the worldly arm on which all our people of Philadelphia leaned.

And now our leader was gone from us,—the last words on his lips as he stepped from the shore, where we were gathered with tearful eyes, to the boat that was to carry him from our sight, being:

"Thou Philadelphia, the settlement named before it was born, what love, what care, what service, and what labor hath there been to bring thee forth, and preserve thee from such as would abuse and defile thee!"

He left us with the promise to come again, and yet during twelve long, weary years have I waited in vain for the fulfillment of that promise. He cometh not, and we who were left in charge in his city are still faithful to the trust he reposed in us, watching eagerly for one more glimpse of that placid face we had learned to love so well.

All this time of watching and Ionging will seem as but a single day, however, if it shall be allowed that the first to greet him when he comes to his own, be the weaver of Mulberry Street, whose business God has permitted to increase beyond his wildest dreams,— Stephen of Philadelphia.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis