The Mills Become Towns 179 



turned his son over to it with a happy heart. There being 

 none, and his father's insistence that he join him in the 

 bakeshop growing every day, young Christopher ran away to 

 London, and shipped in an English vessel to see the world. 



He had had a fair view of it before his father died, leaving 

 him a tidy little fortune. He went to Hesse to collect it, to sell 

 the bakeshop and to strut his freedom before the envious 

 eyes of his old companions. Then he went to London and set 

 himself to the pleasant task of spending his money. There was 

 no lack of Germans in that city of which George the Second 

 was king. Christopher had friends to help him in his spending. 

 When all but twenty-five pounds of his patrimony was gone, 

 he shook himself hard, called himself a variety of names in five 

 languages, invested the twenty-five pounds in some ready-made 

 clothing and a peddler's pack, and sailed to Philadelphia. 



So began the career of the man whom Congress appointed 

 Superintendent of bakers for the Continental Army, whom 

 Washington called affectionately "old gentleman," and "my 

 honest friend." He was to wield a power over the colonial 

 mills and millers that made him a public official to be respected 

 and obeyed. 



It was in 1753 that Christopher Ludwick had his first sight 

 of an American city. He managed to see a good deal of it, 

 and of the country round about while increasing his capital 

 to one hundred pounds. He made up his mind to stay there. 

 But first he went back to London where he hunted out a baker 

 who had learned his trade under Christopher's father in Hesse. 

 Christopher apprenticed himself to him. He gave two years to 

 learning all the arts of mixing and icing which he had refused 

 to learn in Hesse. Especially, he learned the secret of the 

 famous Ludwick gingerbread. Then he came back to the 

 colonies and set himself up in his father's trade. 



Ludwick's bakeshop was famous in pre-Revolutionary Phila- 

 delphia. The Quaker aristocracy ate his gingerbread, his 

 almond cakes and marzipan and signified their approval. The 

 Schermerhorns and Rittenhouses told each other that never 



