Next in historic importance is Carpenters' Hall, between Third and Fourth streets. The first Continental Congress met here, and here the first words pointing toward a collision with the mother country were spoken in Philadelphia.
When William Penn made his first visit to Philadelphia, on October twenty-fourth, 1682, he set foot upon his new possessions at the Blue Anchor Landing, at the mouth of Dock Creek, in the vicinity of what is now the corner of Front and Dock streets. Here stood the Blue Anchor Inn, the first house built within the ancient limits of the city. Then, and long afterwards, Dock Creek was a considerable stream, running through the heart of the town. But, in course of time, the water became offensive, from the drainage of the city, and it was finally arched over, and turned into a sewer. The winding of Dock street is accounted for by the fact that it follows the former course of the creek. Sloops once anchored and discharged their cargoes where now stands Girard Bank, on Third street, below Chestnut.
Between Chestnut and Market streets, Second and Front, is found Letitia street, where long stood the first brick house built in the Province, erected for the use of Penn himself, and named after his daughter Letitia. He directed that it should "be pitched in the middle of the platt of the town, facing the harbor." The bricks, wooden carvings and other materials, were imported from England. At the time of its construction a forest swept down to the river in front, forming a natural park, where deer ranged at will. Letitia House became a lager beer saloon, the front painted with foaming pots of beer. But business interests claimed the site and the old house was removed and carefully re-erected in Fairmount Park.
The old Slate Roof House, long one of the ancient landmarks, on Second street below Chestnut, the residence of William Penn on his second visit to this country, during which visit John, his only "American" son was born, and where other noted persons lived and died, or at least visited, was removed in 1867, to make room for the Commercial Exchange.
Not far off, on Second street, north of Market, is Christ's Church, occupying the site of the first church erected by the followers of Penn. The present edifice was begun in 1727. Washington's coach and four used to draw up proudly before it each Sabbath, and himself and Lady Washington, Lord Howe, Cornwallis, Benedict Arnold, Andre, Benjamin Franklin, De Chastellux, the Madisons, the Lees, Patrick Henry and others whose names have become incorporated in American history, have worshiped here. In the aisles are buried various persons, great men in their day, but forgotten now. The chime of bells in the lofty tower is the oldest in America, and were cast in London. This chime joined the State House bell on that memorable Fourth of July, when the latter proclaimed liberty throughout the land. Just opposite this church is a small street, opening into Second street, its eastern end closed by a tall block of warehouses. This street contained Stephen Girard's stores and houses.
The great elm tree, at Kensington, under which Penn made his famous treaty with the Indians, remained until 1800, when it was blown down. An insignificant stone now marks the spot, being inclosed by a fence, and surrounded by stone and lumber yards. An elm overshadows it—possibly, a lineal descendant of the historic tree.
There is an older religious edifice in Philadelphia than Christ's Church. It is the old Swedes' Church, erected in 1697, not far from Front and Christian streets, by early Swedish missionaries. Though insignificant, compared with modern churches, it was regarded as a magnificent structure by the Quakers, Swedes and Indians, who first beheld it. The inside carvings, bell and communion service, were a gift of the Swedish king. In the graveyard which surrounds it are found the dead of nearly two centuries ago, some of the slate-stones over the older graves having been imported from the mother country. Here sleeps Sven Schute and his descendants, once, under Swedish dominion, lords of all the land on which Philadelphia now stands. None of his name now lives. Here lie buried, forgotten, Bengtossens, Peterssens, and Bonds. Wilson, the ornithologist, was a frequent attendant at this church, early in the present century, and he lies in the church yard, having been buried there by his own request, as it was "a silent, shady place, where the birds would be apt to come and sing over his grave." The English sparrows have built their nests above it.
An ancient house possessing special historic interest stands on Front street, a few doors above Dock. It is built of glazed black bricks, with a hipped roof, and, though it was a place of note in its day, occupied by one generation after another of the ruling Quakers, it has now degenerated into a workingmen's coffee-house. To it the Friends conducted Franklin on his return from England. War was not yet declared, but there were mutterings in the distance; all awaited Franklin's counsels, sitting silently, as is their wont, waiting for the spirit to move to utterance, when Franklin stood up and cried out: "To arms, my friends, to arms!"
Franklin has left many associations in the city of his adoption. As a boy of seventeen he trudged up High, now Market street, munching one roll, with another under his arm, friendless and unknown. Even his future wife smiled in ridicule as he passed by. To-day statues are erected to his memory, and institutions named after him. The Philadelphia Library, the oldest and richest in the city, claims him as one of its original founders. In 1729, the Junto, a little association of tradesmen of which Franklin was a member, used to meet in the chamber of a little house in Pewter-platter alley, to exchange their books. Franklin suggested that there should be a small annual subscription, in order to increase the stock. To-day the library contains many thousand volumes, with many rare and valuable manuscripts and pamphlets. This library contains Penn's desk and clock, John Penn's cabinet, and a colossal bust of Minerva which overlooked the deliberations of the Continental Congress. In an old graveyard at the corner of Fifth and Arch, a section of iron railing in the stone wall which surrounds it permits the passer to view the plain marble slab which covers the remains of Franklin and his wife.
Speaking of libraries, the Apprentices' Library, on the opposite corner of Fifth and Arch, overlooks Franklin's grave. It was established by the Quakers, and dates back to 1783. The apprentice system has died out, and the library is almost forgotten.