bbs Ferry, and sent the Chief his commission. Tilghman returned with
it, express haste, and the assurance that the General would endeavour to
give him a command, nearly such as he could desire in the present
circumstance of the army, Hamilton had accomplished his object. He
retained his commission and quartered with General Lincoln.

When Washington arrived at Dobbs Ferry and went into temporary quarters,
he gave a large dinner to the French officers, and invited Hamilton to
preside.

His graceful manners and witty speeches provoked universal
admiration [runs the pen of a contemporary]. He was the youngest
and smallest man present. His hair was turned back from the
forehead, powdered, and queued at the back. His face was boyishly
fair, and lighted up with intelligence and genius. Washington,
grave, elegant and hospitable, sat at the side of the table, with
the accomplished Count de Rochambeau on his right. The Duke de
Luzerne occupied a seat opposite. General Knox was present, and so
was Baron Steuben.

Shortly afterward, Hamilton attended a council of war, at Washington's
invitation. The squadron of De Grasse was approaching the coast of
Virginia. For the second time, Washington was obliged to give up his
cherished scheme of marching on New York, for it was now imperative to
meet Cornwallis in the South. The Chief completely hoodwinked Clinton as
to his immediate plans, Robert Morris raised the funds for moving the
army, and Hamilton obtained his command. To his high satisfaction, Fish
was one of his officers. Immediately before his departure for the South
he wrote to his wife. He had attained his desire, but he was too unhappy
to be playful. A portion of the letter is as follows:--

A part of the army, my dear girl, is going to Virginia, and I must,
of necessity, be separated at a much greater distance from my
beloved wife. I cannot announce the fatal necessity without feeling
everything that a fond husband can feel. I am unhappy;--I am
unhappy beyond expression. I am unhappy because I am to be so
remote from you; because I am to hear from you less frequently than
I am accustomed to do. I am miserable because I know you will be
so; I am wretched at the idea of flying so far from you, without a
single hour's interview, to tell you all my pains and all my love.
But I cannot ask permission to visit you. It might be thought