When Enoch had repaid the debt of gratitude by aiding Lord Gordon to rejoin his troops, and had landed once more on the Philadelphia side of the river, he felt particularly well pleased with the morning's work.
It was, to his mind, a fitting conclusion to the evacuation, and gave him a sense of great satisfaction that he had been enabled to be of service to the generous officer.
"I allow Seth will be pleased twice when he hears of this day's happenings, and I'm not certain but that what we have done for Lord Gordon will afford him nearly as much pleasure as to know that the British have finally left town. I wish he had given me something of less value than this chain," he added as he examined the ornament more closely. "It seems as if this was in some sense payment for the work, although he insisted it was simply to remember him by. However, I could not have refused it."
Then he returned to Drinker's Alley; informed Mrs. Graydon her late guest was in a place of safety, and, that having been done, went directly home to acquaint his mother with the events of the evacuation.
As a matter of course he was on the street when General Arnold, still suffering from the wound received at Saratoga, entered the city with a force of men sufficient to hold it against any ordinary attack, and as soon as the town was formally invested by its rightful rulers he went back to Letitia Street, there to remain until word should be received regarding his future movements.
Enoch's one desire now was to join the army at the earliest possible moment, and he hoped most fervently that he would be allowed to enlist, for there seemed every reason to believe General Washington would attack the British forces during their march across New Jersey.
Late on this same afternoon it was told in the city that Clinton was encamped with his army and camp-followers at Haddonfield, and so lengthy was the train with its appendages that the first division of the force had bivouacked before the last left Gloucester Point, although the line had moved in close order.
It was reported that when the soldiers, the bathorses, baggage and ammunition wagons, the camp-followers and refugees were stretched out on a single road in marching order, they extended a length of twelve miles, and there seemed to be no question but that the American forces would sadly harass the cumbersome column before it could arrive at its destination.
There was great rejoicing in Philadelphia on this first night of the re-occupation by the Continental army.
Those who had been imprisoned because of their devotion to the cause were set free, and for the first time since September was there feasting and joy in the homes of the citizens who ardently desired the independence of the colonies.