“In danger of being shut in, we crossed King’s Bridge and retreated to White Plains.  How we toiled with our baggage on that journey, many of us being yoked like oxen to the wagons!  Every day troops, whose terms of enlistment had expired, were leaving us.  It seemed as if our whole flying camp would soon be gone.  But there were many like Solomon and me who were willing to give up everything for the cause and follow our beloved Commander into hell, if necessary.  There were some four thousand of us who streaked up the Hudson with him to King’s Ferry, at the foot of the Highlands, to get out of the way of the British ships.  There we crossed into Jersey and dodged about, capturing a thousand men at Trenton and three hundred at Princeton, defeating the British regiments who pursued us and killing many officers and men and cutting off their army from its supplies.  We have seized a goodly number of cannon and valuable stores and reclaimed New Jersey and stiffened the necks of our people.  It has been, I think, a turning point in the war.  Our men have fought like Homeric heroes and endured great hardships in the bitter cold with worn-out shoes and inadequate clothing.  A number have been frozen to death.  I loaned my last extra pair of shoes to a poor fellow whose feet had been badly cut and frozen.  When I tell you that coming into Morristown I saw many bloody footprints in the snow behind the army, you will understand.  We are a ragamuffin band, but we have taught the British to respect us.  Send all the shoes and clothing you can scare up.

“I have seen incidents which have increased my love of Washington.  When we were marching through a village in good weather there was a great crowd in the street.  In the midst of it was a little girl crying out because she could not see Washington.  He stopped and called for her.  They brought the child and he lifted her to the saddle in front of him and carried her a little way on his big white horse.

“At the first divine service here in Morristown he observed an elderly woman, a rough clad farmer’s wife, standing back in the edge of the crowd.  He arose and beckoned to her to come and take his seat.  She did so, and he stood through the service, save when he was kneeling.  Of course, many offered him their seats, but he refused to take one.

“We have been deeply impressed and inspirited by the address of a young man of the name of Alexander Hamilton.  He is scarcely twenty years of age, they tell me, but he has wit and eloquence and a maturity of understanding which astonished me.  He is slender, a bit under middle stature and has a handsome face and courtly manners.  He will be one of the tallest candles of our faith, or I am no prophet.

“Solomon has been a tower of strength in this campaign.  I wish you could have seen him lead the charge against Mercer’s men and bring in the British general, whom he had wounded.  He and I are scouting around the camp every day.  Our men are billeted up and down the highways and living in small huts around headquarters.”