“I say nothing as to these reports and apprehensions, but certain it is, the ships of war were immediately manned and the wharves crowded with chosen men. Hostilities were commenced without much ceremony and it was surprising to behold the incessant firing that was poured upon the enemy’s kegs. Both officers and men exhibited unparalleled skill and prowess on the occasion, whilst the citizens stood gaping as solemn witnesses of this dreadful scene. “In truth, not a chip, stick or drift log passed by without experiencing the vigor of the British arms. The action began about sunrise and would have terminated in favor of the British by noon had not an old market woman, in crossing the river with provisions, unfortunately let a keg of butter fall overboard, which as it was then ebb tide, floated down to the scene of battle. At sight of this unexpected re-enforcement of the enemy the attack was renewed with fresh forces, and the firing from the marine and land troops was beyond imagination and so continued until night closed the conflict. “The rebel kegs were either totally demolished or obliged to fly, as none of them have shown their heads since. It is said that His Excellency, Lord Howe, has dispatched a swift sailing packet with an account of this signal victory to the Court of London. In short, Monday, January 5, 1778, will be memorable in history for the renowned battle of the kegs.” The entire transaction was laughable in the extreme and furnished the theme for unnumbered sallies of wit from the Whig press, while the distinguished author of “Hail Columbia,” Joseph H. Hopkinson, paraphrased it in a ballad which was immensely popular at the time. This ballad is worthy of reproduction and is given almost in full: THE BATTLE OF THE KEGS By JOSEPH H. HOPKINSON Gallants attend and hear a friend, Trill forth harmonious ditty, Strange things I‘ll tell which late befell In Philadelphia City. ‘Twas early day, as poets say, Just when the sun was rising, A soldier stood on a log of wood And saw a thing surprising. As in a maze he stood to gaze, The truth can’t be denied, sir, He spied a score of kegs or more, Come floating down the tide, sir. A sailor too in jerkin blue, This strange appearance viewing, First d—d his eyes, in great surprise, Then said “some mischief’s brewing. “These kegs, I‘m told, the rebels bold Pack up like pickl’d herring; And they’re come down t’attack the town In this new way of ferry’ng.”