in this town. From the hill we ascend immediately after we had passed the bridge, my companion pointed out to me the course of the American army as they came down on the Hessians on both sides of the river; the spot where the first sentry was surprised, the advance guard taken without firing a gun, the manner of surrounding and invading the town. The ground where the Hessians formed, planted their artillery, and engaged the American troops, was in the main street, on the opposite side of the bridge. After a warm fire, on both sides, which lasted only a few minutes, the Hessians laid down their arms and surrendered prisoners of war. A small number of their troops, stationed on this hill, made their escape. I must confess that a view of the ground where this important scene was acted excited in me the most sensible feelings of American pride. I participated in the pleasing sensations that must have pervaded our harassed and desponding army on this change of fortune.

By this time I began to felicitate myself on my good fortune in finding I had met with another fellow traveler not less intelligent, sociable, and agreeable than the one I traveled with from Horse-neck to New York. Vandergrift's is a good house. Our horses were led into the river, well washed, and then wiped dry. Bill and ferriage, 3s. 3d. Here we crossed the Delaware, at what is called the lower ferry, and landed in the State of Pennsylvania. The river is about three-quarters of a mile wide, but the water not deep. About half a mile above us is a kind of bar of rocks, many of them out of the water, and the stream broken and rapid; but large flat-bottomed boats pass up and down, and ascend the river for more than a hundred miles.

On the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware is a famous forge, slitting-mill, and rolling-mill, and several mills for grinding and bolting flour. Near them are several long buildings in the form of barracks, occupied by nail-makers, but we had not time to visit them. These works are owned by Mr. Morris, the American financier. At a small distance from the ferry, we entered an extensive tract of woodland, the road nearly straight, almost perfectly level, and free from sand or stones, and not a house to be seen for about five miles. The growth,

oak, hickory, walnut, and some maple. Here I first saw the persimmon tree, which produces fruit having, when ripe, a sweet and agreeable taste. It is distilled into a spirit said to be equal in taste and flavor to West India rum. They are also brewed, and make excellent beer. These trees are common on the wayside. In several places I saw the tulip tree, which is large, tall, and straight, and when in full bloom must make a delightful appearance. The fruit at this time is small. The general complexion of the trees and their foliage is different from those of New England.

Made our next stage at Bristol, Bissennett's tavern, where we dined in company with the passengers in the stage. The tavern is kept in high style. There were eight passengers, my fellow traveler, and myself at table. There was nothing extraordinary in our dinner, except the number of our dishes, which were about eight or ten. Beyond the New England States, no kind of drink is set on the table at taverns, but you call for what you please, and it is charged in the bill. There was a side-table, well furnished with different kinds of wine. and porter, and every one made choice for himself, without regard to others. But the whole was charged in the general bill and the amount averaged. It was 8s. each, besides 3s. which my companion and myself had to pay between us for our horses. These tavern-keepers excel in providing well for travelers and in their attendance, but they as perfectly understand the art of making out their bills when they have done. In the stage were General Armstrong and Colonel Franks. General Armstrong is a member of Congress, with whom I had had a small acquaintance in New York. Franks was an Aid to General Arnold at the time of his desertion to the British. Both of them high Bucks, and affected, as I conceived, to hold the New England States in contempt. They had repeatedly touched my Yankee blood in their conversation at table; but I was much on the reserve, until after we had dined. Some severe reflections on the conduct of Rhode Island and the insurgency in Massachusetts, placing the two states in the same point of light, induced me to observe that, "I had no doubt but that the conduct of Rhode Island would prove of infinite service to the Union, that the insurgency in

Massachusetts would eventually tend to invigorate and establish our Government, and that I conceived the State of Pennsylvania, divided and distracted as she then was in her councils (the large county of Luzerne on the eve of an insurrection), to be in as hazardous a situation as any on the Continent." This instantly brought on a warm fracas, indeed. The cudgels were taken up on both sides; the contest as fierce as if the fate of empires depended on the decision; the attention of the whole company engaged. My little companion was roused, fire sparkled in his eyes, and, like a faithful second, was determined to support me. Right or wrong, he would contradict every thing advanced by my antagonists. At length, victory declared in our favor. Armstrong began to make concessions; Franks, with more reluctance, at length gave up the ground. Both acknowledged the New England States were entitled to an equal share of merit with any in the Union, and declared they had no intention to reflect. We had the satisfaction to quit the field with an air of triumph, which my little companion enjoyed with high relish; nor could he forget it all the way to Philadelphia. But we parted with our antagonists on terms of perfect good humor and complaisance. My companion frequently mentioned, afterwards, the pleasure it gave him to see Armstrong and Franks so completely taken down, as he expressed it, which led me to conclude he was of the party opposed to them in political quarrels at Philadelphia.

Bristol is a considerable town. The houses are built rather in the Dutch style, though generally higher, and not so large on the ground. There is considerable commerce carried on here. Vessels may lie alongside the houses on the bank of the river. The tavern where we dined is a very large pile of buildings, with numerous apartments. It stands on the bank of the Delaware, and has a most delightful piazza on the side next the river, which extends the whole length of the house, and is entirely over the water, affording a most beautiful prospect up and down this majestic river. On the opposite shore (Jersey side) is Burlington, a large, well-built town; a handsome Meeting House, with a steeple; and considerable shipping, at the wharves. In Bristol the only building I observed for worship was a small low church.

From this place to Philadelphia the land is exceedingly rich and fertile, producing a great quantity of excellent fruit, Indian corn, and the finest wheat. In some places I saw fields of corn, the rows of which I judged to be a mile in length. The people do not hoe their corn at all, but plow it both ways. The farmers' houses are very neat, but not large, generally two-stories high, and sometimes three, universally painted. Some of them are built of logs, and these are also painted, and very handsome. Their gardens are well formed and abound with flowers, as well as fruit trees and esculents. I saw but few laborers in their fields, for the wheat harvest was generally over. The numerous shocks of grain in the field demonstrated the richness of the soil. The face of the country is level, and the roads fine. At almost every house the farmers and their wives were sitting in their cool entries, or under the piazzas and shady trees about their doors. I observed the men generally wore fine Holland shirts, with the sleeves plaited, the women in clean, cool, white dresses, enjoying the ease and pleasures of domestic life, with few cares, less labor, and abounding in plenty.

Five miles from Bristol we crossed a large river, called Shaminy, on a floating bridge. Ten miles further, we passed through Frankfort, a Dutch village; the houses compact on each side of the street for about a mile, but no buildings of consequence. From this to Philadelphia is five miles. Passed over many fine stone bridges, supported by arches.

We arrived at Philadelphia half after six, and my companion conducted me to the Indian Queen, a livery tavern, kept by Thompson. Here we exchanged names, but I was so unfortunate, in less than ten minutes, to lose his name, and can not recollect it. He promised to call on me the next morning. Spent the evening with several members of Congress.

* Now called Neshanimy Creek.

CHAPTER VII.

AT NEW YORK AND PHILADELPHIA LETTERS TO HAZARD AND SARGENTDIARY OF 1787.

Friday, July 13. This tavern (Indian Queen) is situated in Third Street, between Market Street and Chestnut Street, and is not far from the center of the city. It is kept in an elegant style, and consists of a large pile of buildings, with many spacious halls, and numerous small apartments, appropriated for lodging rooms. As soon as I had inquired of the bar-keeper, when I arrived last evening, if I could be furnished with lodgings, a livery servant was ordered immediately to attend me, who received my baggage from the hostler, and conducted me to the apartment assigned by the bar-keeper, which was a rather small but a very handsome chamber (No. 9), furnished with a rich field bed, bureau, table with drawers, a large looking-glass, neat chairs, and other furniture. Its front was east, and, being in the third story, afforded a fine prospect toward the river and the Jersey shore. The servant that attended me was a young, sprightly, well-built black fellow, neatly dressed-blue coat, sleeves and cape red, and buff waistcoat and breeches, the bosom of his shirt ruffled, and hair powdered. After he had brought up my baggage and properly deposited it in the chamber, he brought two of the latest London magazines and laid on the table. I ordered him to call a barber, furnish me with a bowl of water for washing, and to have tea on the table by the time I was dressed. My intention was to have taken a walk, and delivered some of my letters in the evening, but so much time was occupied in shifting my clothes, getting from under the hands of the barber, and taking tea, I found it too late, and besides felt myself not a little fatigued with my day's journey, which had been 43 miles since 10 in the morning. Distance from New York, 95 miles, and from home, 397.

Being told, while I was at tea, that a number of the Mem