Part 11

There were many people at the crossing of Third and Chestnut Streets; indeed it looked as if most of Philadelphia was there. Jack caught snatches of sentences. "A messenger from down the river." ... "Word from New Castle." ... "Going to attack us." ... "The French ships":--such were some of the words.

The boys made their way through the crowd until they looked up Chestnut Street. People were flocking down there too. Jack didn't know there were so many people in the town as he saw in the streets. Then out from Fourth Street rode three men on horseback and came down Chestnut toward the thickest of the crowd. The riders were Governor Evans, his secretary, and Charles Hackett.

The governor reined up and held out his gloved hand to silence the babel of voices. "I have news for you!" he cried. The crowd quieted. "A messenger has come from New Castle with word that a French squadron is sailing up the Delaware! They have chased two English ships up the bay! Their crews landed at Lewes, burned the town, plundered and pillaged, and carried off prisoners and cattle! To arms, lest we share the same fate! To arms, to defend our homes and families! Get your arms and make ready to obey the orders I shall issue later!" He drew his sword and pointed it toward the Delaware. "Let us show the enemy we are ready for him!"

There was a moment's silence, then a few shouts, then the crowd began to make away by the side-streets, talking excitedly, gesticulating, very much startled at the governor's news. They knew that the English and Dutch settlements along the Atlantic Ocean had often had to defend themselves against enemies, both white and red, but here in Pennsylvania there had practically been no need of defense; they had always been on good terms with their Indian neighbors, and no other enemies had appeared. Now the French privateers meant to treat their town as they had already treated Lewes. Burn, plunder, and pillage! There was no good reason for such an attack. They had done nothing to harm the French. They couldn't understand why any one should wish to make war on them when they were such peaceable people, always strictly minding their own business. Yet there were the governor's words that the French frigates were sailing up the Delaware, and word had already reached the town through other channels telling of the attack on Lewes, though the other reports hadn't made the matter out as bad as had the governor's messenger. Well, it looked as though, Quakers or not, they would have to do as Governor Evans bade.

Jack ran all the way home. Everywhere people were telling each other the news. Even in front of the meeting-house there was an excited group. Philadelphia was no longer peaceful; there was an entirely new thrill in the air.

Jack's family had not yet returned. He hurried into the house, and up to the attic where his father's musket hung on the wall. He took it down, he found a powder-horn in a chest, he pulled out a sword from behind some boxes in a corner. With musket and sword and powder-horn in his arms he went down-stairs. The family were just coming in from the street. He held out sword and musket. "Here are our arms, father!" he exclaimed.

Mr. Felton could not help smiling at the excited face of his son. "You don't intend to be caught napping, do you, Jack?" said he. "Well, I don't think the French will attack us before dinner. You'd better put the weapons away for a while."

II

There were not many people in Philadelphia who took the governor's call to arms as lightly as did Mr. Felton. Most of them were scared half out of their wits, and pictured to themselves the French raiders marching into their houses and carrying off all their valuables, to say nothing of ill-treating themselves. They did not stop to consider that the men of Philadelphia must greatly outnumber the raiders, and that, properly armed, they ought to have little trouble in keeping the enemy at bay. All they appeared to think of was that the enemy were fierce, fighting men, and that they must hand over their precious household goods at the pirates' demand.

Many households had no firearms at all, for the province had had small need of them. But even where there were muskets the men seemed very little disposed to make them ready for use. The Quakers didn't want to fight, that was the long and short of it. Wherever men did get out their muskets and prepare to obey the governor's summons to defense they were in almost all cases men who were not Quakers. But the Quakers did not intend to hand over their valuables if they could possibly help it.

Some bundled their silver and other prized possessions into carriages and wagons and drove their families out into the country, far from the Delaware. They took shelter in farmhouses and even in barns, intending to stay there until the French frigates should have come and gone. Others simply took their possessions out of town and hid them in the woods, returning to their homes in town. Every one seemed to be busy hiding whatever they could; much more concerned about that than about preparing for defense, as Governor Evans wanted.

Though his father was inclined to go slowly both in arming and in hiding their valuables, Jack Felton was not. The boy who lived in the next house, Peter Black, had a talk with Jack right after dinner. Peter Black's mother was a widow, and Peter felt that it was his duty to save the family heirlooms, as he saw the neighbors planning to save theirs. So Peter and Jack hurried out into the country north of Philadelphia. Since the French ships would come from the south they thought the northern country would be the safer. Their road took them by Gregory Diggs' shop, on the outskirts of town, and they stopped there for a few minutes.

The little shoemaker had his gun lying on the table. "Well, Master Jack," he said, grinning, "I hear the governor's given the alarm. I got out my gun so as not to disappoint Mr. Hackett if he comes along."

"We're going to look for a good place to hide things," said Jack. "What are you going to do with the things in your house?"

Gregory looked round his shop, at the unplastered walls, the plain, home-made furniture, the few pots and pans that stood near his hearth. "I don't think there's much here for me to hide," said he. "The French can take all my goods if they want to. I could make boots out under a tree if they care to burn my house. You see that's one of the advantages of being poor, you don't lose any sleep thinking about robbers."

"Peter's mother has a lot of things the raiders might take," explained Jack. "Do you know a good hiding-place?"

"There's a place up in the woods, along a creek, that ought to be pretty safe," said Gregory. "I'll go along to show you."

Shouldering his musket, which seemed to be his one valuable possession, the shoemaker led the two boys along the road to the woods. There he took a path that presently brought them to a little stream. The banks were covered with violets right down to the water's edge. "There's a cave in the bank a little farther up-stream," he said. "I'll show you some stepping-stones."

They crossed by the stones and found the place where the bank revealed an opening. It was quite large enough to hold all that Peter wanted to stow away. "I'll make a door so no one will suspect it's there," said Gregory.

He took out his knife, and hunting among the trees found several where the bark was covered with gray-green lichens. Stripping off these pieces of bark he brought them back to the cave. Then he took some narrow strips of leather from his pocket, such strips as shoemakers use for lacing, and making eyelets near the edges of the bark, he fastened them together with the lacings. This made a bark cover more than big enough to close the opening in the bank. Gregory set it in place, then trimmed the edges so that it fitted neatly. He dug up some of the clumps of violets and replanted them at the base of the bark door. "Now I'll defy any one to find that cave," he said. "It's the safest hiding-place in the province of Pennsylvania."

"I'll mark a couple of trees so I can find it again," said Peter. With his knife he cut some notches in a couple of willows that bordered the stream. As they went back through the woods both boys noted the trail carefully, so that they might readily find it another time.

On the road wagons and carriages passed them, people flying out of town through fear of the enemy. The shoemaker, his musket perched on his shoulder, in spite of his small size was the most martial figure to be seen. "I'm afraid our good folk are more bent on hiding than on fighting," Gregory said with a chuckle. "Well, perhaps I'd be the same if I had something to hide."

"Do you think Mr. Hackett was right about our people not being ready to fight?" Jack asked.

"I think it looks very much that way," said Gregory. "I've seen a lot of people on this road to-day, but not one with a gun."

Leaving Gregory at his house, Jack and Peter walked east to the river and followed the foot-path along the Delaware. Skiffs, filled with household goods, were being rowed up-stream. Families were seeking refuge in the country north of town. Men and boys along the shore were calling words of advice or derision to the rivercraft. At one place a man was shouting, "There's the French frigates coming up on the Jersey side!" The rowers paddled faster, glancing back over their shoulders to see if the alarm was true. The man who had shouted and the others within hearing on the bank laughed at the rowers. The only boats on the Delaware appeared to be those manned by frightened householders.

"Nobody's doing anything to build defenses in case the French frigates do come," said Jack. And indeed there was not a sign of defense anywhere along the shore. If the frigates came they could fire at Philadelphia without an answering shot.

When they reached the center of the town the boys found the same confusion. People were talking on street-corners; some were reading the notices that Governor Evans had posted, calling on the men to meet him next day with arms and ammunition. He stated that he wanted to organize a well-equipped militia in case there should be any need of defense. But the boys heard none speak with enthusiasm of the governor's plan.

When he got home Jack told his father what he and Peter had done. "Would you like me to take some of our things there too?" he asked. "I'm sure no one could possibly find the place."

"No," said Mr. Felton, "I think we'll keep our things in our own house. I'm not going to be driven into hiding just because of a rumor." Even Mr. Felton, intelligent man though he was, did not seem inclined to look with favor on the notion of armed defense.

After supper Jack saw the man who lived across the street putting some boxes into a cart before his door. Jack watched him cord and strap the boxes in the cart. "I'm taking my wife and baby into the country for a few days," the neighbor explained.

"And you're coming back yourself?" Jack asked.

"I don't think so." The neighbor shook his head. "I'm not a fighting man; I don't believe in shedding blood. I'm sure no good Quaker could approve of warfare. I'll stay away till the town's quiet again."

"But suppose the French take the town and hold on to it," said Jack. "Perhaps you couldn't get your house again."

"Well, there's plenty of country for us all," answered the other.

"I suppose you're right," said Jack. "Most people seem to think as you do. But somehow I can't understand how so many people are willing to give in to so few. Aren't our men in Philadelphia as big and strong as the Frenchmen?"

"Why yes, of course they are, Jack. But the French come with firearms, and we don't approve of firearms. We'd be glad to reason with them, if they'd listen to us. But men with guns don't generally want to listen to reason."

"And because they won't listen we run away," said Jack. "I can't understand that."

"You will when you're older," said the man, and went indoors for another box.

Jack went to Peter Black's, and helped him put his mother's silverware and valuables, securely tied in a sack, into a small hand-cart. Together the boys pushed the cart through the town and in the direction of the hiding-place. They secreted the sack in the cave beside the brook, and trundled the cart back to Gregory's shop. The night was fair and warm, and the shoemaker was sitting outside his house. "The town must be pretty empty by now," he said. "I've seen so many people hurrying away. Soon there'll be nothing left there but the governor and some stray cats and dogs. All our good citizens seem to prefer to spend the spring in the country."

"Come down to the Delaware with us, Mr. Diggs," urged Jack. "We wanted to leave Peter's cart here and go back by the river. It's fine at night."

"I know what you want," said Gregory, nodding very wisely. "You want to catch the first sight of the French frigates. Very well, I'll go along with you. Only you must let me get my pistol. I'm not going to be caught unarmed by the enemy."

The shoemaker, his pistol stuck in his belt, and the two boys struck across for the river. The sky was full of stars, and when they reached the bank they could easily make out the low-lying Jersey shore across the Delaware. All shipping, except a few small skiffs, had disappeared. "The big boats have run before the storm," said Gregory, "and the little ones are ready to make for the creeks at the first alarm. The French won't find any shipping here at any rate."

They went along the shore until they came to the southern end of the town. Even on the wharves there were very few men. "I think we'll have to be the lookouts," said Gregory, with a chuckle. "Here's a pile of logs. Let's sit here and watch for the frigates."

Down the three sat, the little shoemaker in the middle. "I think," said Jack thoughtfully, "that you're the only person in town who'd want to fight the enemy, unless perhaps Governor Evans would. I think I'd hate to run away as soon as we saw his ships. Wouldn't you hate to, Peter?"

"Now we've hid those things," said Peter, "I'd like to stay and see the fun."

"Of course you would," agreed Gregory. "I'll tell you how it is, my lads. There aren't many adventurers in this sober town of ours, only a few boys and an old shoemaker."

Jack glanced at the little man, and caught the glint of starlight on the barrel of his pistol. "I shouldn't think you'd care for adventures as much as some other people would,--well, as my father would or the man who lives across the street from us."

Gregory clapped his hand on Jack's knee. "That's just the puzzle of it," he said. "You never can tell who are the real adventurers. Most boys are; but when they grow up they forget the taste and smell of adventure. They don't want to think of any pirates stealing up the Delaware. They don't want to have any pirates anywhere."

"I like pirates," announced Peter.

"Of course you do," said Gregory, clapping his free hand on Peter's knee. "So do I. I like to think there's a chance of those frigates pointing up the river any minute. But most of the people in town would say I was mad if I told them that. They'd say it was because I hadn't anything to lose. It's riches that make folks cautious."

"I see a light down there!" exclaimed Peter, pointing down the shore.

All three jumped up and peered through the darkness. The light proved to be a lantern in the bow of a small skiff skirting the bank. "That's not the frigates," said Gregory. "I almost hoped it was. Well, I don't suppose the safety of Philadelphia depends on our keeping watch any longer to-night. It's getting late. Come on, my brave adventurers."

Back to town they went, and said good-night to Gregory. As Jack passed the governor's house he saw a familiar figure standing at the front gate. The stout Mr. Hackett likewise recognized Jack. "So you've not fled from town like the rest?" said the man from Maryland. "The governor's called the men to meet him to-morrow in the field on Locust Street; but I misdoubt if there'll be many left to join him."

"There's one who will be there," answered Jack, pointing down the street after Gregory.

"Who's that?" inquired Mr. Hackett.

"Gregory Diggs, the shoemaker. He's got a gun and a pistol, and he won't run away."

"The little shoemaker?" said Mr. Hackett. "So he's a fighting man, is he? I've always liked him, but I didn't know he had so much spirit."

"He's a real adventurer," declared Jack. "He thinks it may be because he's poor and hasn't any family; but I don't think that's it. I think he couldn't help being that way anyhow. I want to be like him when I grow up."

"Good for you!" exclaimed Mr. Hackett. "Then I suppose we may count on having you at the governor's muster to-morrow."

"I'll be there," said Jack. "I'm big enough to handle a gun."

"I'll be there too," put in Peter, who had been listening to the talk with the greatest interest.

"Good enough," said Mr. Hackett. "Gregory and you boys ought to put some of these smug people to shame. I'll look for you at the meeting in the morning."

III

Jack and Peter were at the meeting-place on Locust Street next morning, although each only brought a heavy stick as his weapon of defense. Jack's father had refused to let his son have the musket, saying that he would be much more apt to harm himself with it than to injure an enemy. Mrs. Black had not only forbidden Peter to handle anything that would shoot, but had intimated that she thought Governor Evans and all the people who went to his militia meeting were behaving much more like savages than like good Christians. So the boys had to put up with the hickory sticks for weapons, though each carried a sling and a pocketful of pebbles, which might be useful for long-distance fighting.

Gregory was there with his gun, and the three friends stood under the shade of a maple and waited for the rest of the volunteer army to appear. A few men and boys were lounging out in the road, apparently more interested in watching what was going to happen than in taking part in it. "Where are our gallant soldiers?" said Gregory, with a grin.

Jack counted the men who had come, with their muskets, into the field. "Six besides us," he announced.

"That'll make a good-sized army," said Gregory, a twinkle in his eye.

There were only the six others at the meeting-place when Governor Evans, his secretary, and Mr. Hackett arrived. The governor looked disgusted. He muttered to his two companions. Then he beckoned the seven men and the two boys toward him. "So this is Philadelphia's volunteer militia, is it?" he said. "These are the troops I could count on to defend our homes from an enemy?" Then his angry brow softened. "I don't blame you, my good friends. You are doing your best. But I shouldn't like to express my opinion of your fellow-townsfolk."

The governor turned to Hackett "I might as well disband the militia, eh? The night-watchmen of the town will furnish as good defense."

"Unless you choose to keep your army of seven men and two boys to shame the worthy citizens," suggested Hackett.

"You can't shame them!" snorted Governor Evans. "Their heads are made of pillow-slips stuffed with feathers; and goose-feathers at that!" He looked again at the volunteer soldiers. "My secretary will take your names," he said, "and I'll know who to call on if I need help. Many thanks to you all."

As they were leaving the field Hackett came over to Gregory and the two boys. "I suspected your good people would act like this," said he. "Though I'd no idea that only seven men would put in an appearance. I'll have to wash my hands of your Quaker colony. I never saw anything to equal it. The Saints keep you from trouble! I doubt if you'll be able to keep yourselves out of it."

Now Gregory was a little nettled at the other's superior manner. "We've been able to keep out of it so far," he retorted, "and I don't see but what charity toward others mayn't keep us out of it in the future. William Penn is a just man, and has bade us act justly toward all others. We hoped to leave fighting and all warlike things behind us when we left Europe. Because there's been fighting in Massachusetts and Virginia is no reason why there should be such matters here."

"So you think Penn's colony is different from the others, do you?" asked Hackett.

"I think you and your Cavalier friends in Maryland are more eager to draw your swords than we are here," said the shrewd shoemaker.

"Now, by Jupiter, I think you're right!" agreed Hackett, with a laugh. "Every man to his own kind. I much prefer Lord Baltimore to your good William Penn. I've seen enough of your worthy Quaker tradesmen. I must get back to Chesapeake Bay."

Jack and Peter, sitting on the steps of Mr. Felton's house that afternoon, saw a number of men who worked on the river-front go past in the street, guns in their hands. There were five or six in the first group, then a few more, then a larger number. There were small farmers from the southern side of the town, there were servants, there were negroes. None of those who went by appeared to be of the wealthy, Quaker class. "Where are they going?" Jack asked presently.

"Let's go find out," suggested Peter.

The boys followed the groups, which grew in size as men from other streets joined in the current. They went to Society Hill on the outskirts of the town. There a crowd had already gathered, some with firearms, some without. The boys pushed their way through the crowd until they reached the front edge. There they heard one speaker after another addressing the throng. The speakers all declared that they would go to the governor, ask for weapons, and tell him they were ready to march against the enemy whenever he should give the order.

Nearly seven hundred men met on Society Hill that day and volunteered for military service. Perhaps the word had gone around that the leading men of the colony had failed to meet the governor, and these men meant to show that there were some at least he could rely on. However that was, this gathering shamed the other meeting, and when it broke up it sent its delegates to report to Governor Evans.

The boys stopped to tell Gregory Diggs what they had seen.

"Aye," said Gregory, when he had heard the type of men who made up this second meeting, "wealth and position make men timid. And then Quakers are over-cautious folk. I know how it is. I found it hard enough to shoulder my gun and make up my mind to join the militia. Like as not I wouldn't have volunteered at all if you two boys hadn't seemed to shame me into it. But that's the way it is, our good, respectable folk won't fight, and the only ones the governor can rely on are the poor and the down-at-heels, and a penniless shoemaker and two boys. Master Hackett was right about Penn's province."

At his home Jack told his father of the day's happenings. "And I'm very much surprised our friends and neighbors didn't help Governor Evans better," he concluded.

"Only seven at one meeting, and a great many at the other?" said Mr. Felton. "Well, that shows our friends aren't very warlike, doesn't it, Jack?"

"But I think they ought to be," protested the boy.

"So does Governor Evans," agreed Mr. Felton. "And it's my opinion that he and that truculent friend of his, Charles Hackett, planned this whole scare just to see how warlike the people of Philadelphia are. I think he arranged to have that messenger arrive from Maryland with that story about the French frigates. It's true enough they landed at Lewes, but they did little harm there beyond taking a few cattle and some wood and water they needed. I don't believe they had the slightest intention of coming up the river to Philadelphia. But it gave the governor a good chance to see what the people would do if the French had been coming."