igh with exultation, for now,
when they saw their ancient pilot once more at the helm, they hoped for
a prosperous voyage and a quiet haven in the bosom of prosperity.

His reception at Trenton was peculiarly touching. It was planned by
those females and their daughters whose patriotism and sufferings in the
cause of liberty were equal to those of their fathers, husbands, sons,
and brothers. It was here, when the hopes of the people lay prostrate on
the earth, and the eagle of freedom seemed to flap his wings, as if
preparing to forsake the world, that Washington performed those prompt
and daring acts which, while they revived the drooping spirits of his
country, freed, for a time, the matrons of Trenton from the insults and
wrongs of an arrogant soldiery. The female heart is no sanctuary for
ingratitude; and when Washington arrived at the bridge over the
Assumpink, which here flows close to the borders of the city, he met the
sweetest reward that, perhaps, ever crowned his virtues.

Over the bridge was thrown an arch of evergreens and flowers bearing
this affecting inscription in large letters:

"December 26, 1776.

"The hero who defended the mothers will protect the daughters."

At the other extremity of the bridge were assembled many hundreds of
young girls of various ages, arrayed in white, the emblem of truth and
innocence, their brows circled with garlands, and baskets of flowers in
their hands. Beyond these were disposed the grown-up daughters of the
land, clothed and equipped like the others, and behind them the matrons,
all of whom remembered the never-to-be-forgotten twenty-sixth of
December, 1776. As the good Washington left the bridge, they joined in a
chorus, touchingly expressive of his services and their gratitude,
strewing, at the same time, flowers as he passed along. That mouth whose
muscles of gigantic strength indicated the firmness of his character and
the force of his mind, was now observed to quiver with emotion; that eye
which looked storms and tempests, enemies and friends, undauntedly in
the face, and never quailed in the sight of man, now glistened with
tears; and that hand which had not trembled when often life, fame, and
the liberty of his country hung on the point of a single moment, now
refused its office. His hat dropped from his hand as he drew it across
his brow.

His reception everywhere was worthy of his services and of a grateful
people. At New