heed to the truth. I had never known Philadelphia well, but now it was so
strange as to be peculiarly interesting, many of the houses deserted,
with doors and windows boarded; several of the churches made over into
barracks, or riding-schools; the market closed; the State House filled
with lounging officers; and the streets thronged, even at this early
hour, by a varied uniformed soldiery, speaking Cockney English, the
jargon of the counties, Scottish Gaelic, or guttural German, as they
elbowed their passage, the many scarlet jackets interspersed with the
blue of artillery and cavalry, the Hessian red and yellow, the green of
the rifle-corps, or the kilts of the Highlanders. Lancers and Huzzars,
Grenadiers, Light Dragoons and Queen's Rangers mixed, and commingled,
apparently enjoying holiday. There was scarcely a woman to be seen; the
few who did appear being of the lower sort. All along the river were
redoubts, well garrisoned, with black gun muzzles pointing out across the
water. Many houses had been razed, and their _débris_, together with the
fire ruin of the past winter, gave to everything a look of desolation.
Much artillery was parked in the State House yard, and several vessels of
war were lying at anchor in the stream, while the entire shore line was
filled with barges, decorated as for a _fête_, a large force of men
laboring about them. My companion, observing my interest attracted in
that direction, reined up his horse to explain.

"Those are the galleys being made ready for the Mischianza, Fortesque,"
he said, waving his hand. "You came to us at a lucky hour."

"The Mischianza?" I asked, puzzled by the strange term. "Some festival,
you mean?--some gala day?"

"'Tis an Italian word, they tell me, signifying medley. The officers give
it in farewell to Sir William, who will sail to-morrow. A pretty penny it