But never was there a more impatient invalid than Hamilton.  He was astonished and disgusted that his body should defy his mind, and at the first moment possible he was up and about his duties with the army at Morristown.  Troup was ordered to join the army under Gates in the North.

Morristown was a natural fortress, a large fertile valley, protected by precipitous hills and forests, yet with defiles known to the Americans, through which they could retreat if necessary.  It was within striking distance of New Brunswick and Amboy, in which towns Washington kept the British cooped up for months, not permitting them to cut a stick of forest wood without fighting for it.  “Here was seen,” to quote Hamilton, “the spectacle of a powerful army straitened within narrow limits by the phantom of a military force, and never permitted to transgress those limits with impunity; in which skill supplied the place of means, and disposition was the substitute for an army.”

Congress had invested Washington with such extraordinary powers after the brilliant exploit at Trenton, that in Europe he was called “The Dictator of America.”  Therein lay the sole cause of the ultimate victory of the Revolutionists, and had the States been more generous, and less jealous of delegating powers to Congress, he would have driven out the British in short order.

Mrs. Washington had joined her General—­she kept an eye on him—­at Freeman’s Tavern, which had been converted into comfortable headquarters, and he was happy in his military family:  Colonel Harrison, indefatigable and fearless, affectionately known as “Old Secretary”; Tench Tilghman of Maryland, young, accomplished, cheerful, devoted to Washington and serving without pay, for his fortune was considerable; Richard Kidder Meade, sprightly, enthusiastic, always willing to slave; and John Fitzgerald,—­all in an attitude of perpetual adoration.  But he lacked a secretary of the requisite ability, and as soon as he heard of Hamilton’s return to camp he sent for him.

Hamilton was feeling almost well, and he walked rapidly across the village green to headquarters, delighted at the prospect of seeing Washington again.  He had acquired a military air and walked more erectly than ever, for he was somewhat sensitive of his juvenile appearance.  He found Washington in a front room on the second floor.  The General wore his usual blue and buff, and looked less harassed and worn than when he had last seen him.  He rose and shook hands warmly with Hamilton, who thanked him again for the messages he had received while in hospital.

“I would have had you brought here if there had been any place to make you comfortable; and I am going to ask you to come and live with me now—­as my aide and secretary.”

Hamilton sprang to his feet impetuously.  “Oh, sir!” he exclaimed, “I don’t want to leave the regular line of promotion!  I don’t want to leave my men.  I’m much attached to them.  And I’ll not deny my ambition, sir; I want opportunities to distinguish myself.  I’ve already refused two generals.  This war will last for years.  There is no reason in the world why I should not be a general in three.”