weapons at random, and pursuit, though undertaken with vigor, was utterly vain. On the other hand, the officers made a report, the gist of which was that they beset his house in the daytime for many hours, and used every effort to take him; but that, with loaded pistols and other weapons, he bade them defiance, and kept them at bay until night, when he succeeding in eluding them, and escaped to his horse.[1] The differing accounts bear equal testimony to his adroitness and daring, and doubtless his outwitted and disappointed antagonists stood somewhat in awe of him. Governor Penn immediately issued a proclamation, offering a reward of £300 for his capture. Governor Franklin, of New Jersey, who met with some censure from the Legislature, offered £300 more, and the newspapers urged their readers, and all of his majesty's good subjects to make every exertion to secure “this very dangerous man.” The plantation, the island, the servant, the horses and all of his property, were seized and sold, and henceforth he was an outcast and a wanderer. Soon afterward the war commenced, and in the folk lore which has come down to us from that era, Richardson appears as the hero of many a marvelous tory incident, and is described as a cherished companion of those noted Bucks county desperadoes, the Doanes, in their deeds of lawlessness and adventure. Once a man named Conway came upon him lurking in a dense wood, where stands the present village of Port Providence, which then belonged to David Thomas, the husband of Richardson's sister, and the grandfather of the author of Lippincott's biographical dictionary. He compelled Conway to bring him some food, and by threats of death if his whereabouts should be divulged, enforced secrecy. A farm
- ↑ Penna. Packet, Aug. 23d, 1773.
