The campaign of 1778 having closed, the American army went into winter quarters. Nine brigades were stationed on the west side of the Hudson River, exclusive of the garrison at West Point. One of these brigades was quartered near Smith's cove, where it could serve as a reinforcement to West Point, should it be necessary; another, at Elizabethtown; and the remaning seven, at Middlebrook; which place was likewise selected for head-quarters. Six brigades were cantoned on the east side of the Hudson, and at West Point, as follows: --- one at West Point; two at the Continental Village, a post between Fishkill and West Point; and three in the vicinity of Danbury, in Connecticut. The artillery was at Pluckemin. A line of cantonments was thus formed around New York, from Long Island sound to the Delaware, so disposed as to give security to the country, and to reinforce each other, in case of an incursion of the enemy to any particular point. Another object attained by this arrangement, was the easy subsistence of the troops. General M'Dougal commanded in the Highlands, and General Putnam at Danbury.

Until February of 1779, the troops at Middlebrook were obliged to live in canvas tents, suffering extremely from exposure to cold and storms. By that time, the soldiers had completed some log huts, which gave them a comfortable shelter for the rest of the winter. These huts were erected by the soldiers, without tools, except the axe and saw; and a description of their manner of building them may not prove uninteresting. They were constructed of the trunks of trees, cut into various lengths, according to the size of the building for which they were intended, and firmly connected by notches cut in their extremities, after the manner of dovetailing. The spaces between the logs were filled in with plastering, consisting of mud and clay. The roof was formed of similar pieces of timber, and covered with hewn slabs. The chimney, situated at one end of the house, was made of similar, but smaller timbers; and both he inner and the outer sides were covered with clay plaster, to defend the wood against the fire. The doors and windows were formed by sawing away a part of the logs where the openings were required, and the pieces sawed out were then arranged to move on wooden hinges. The huts were placed in straight lines; thus forming a regular, uniform, and compact village. The officers' huts were situated in front of the line, according to their rank. The kitchens were in the rear, and the whole was similar in form to a tent encampment. The ground, for a considerable distance in front of the soldiers' line of huts, was cleared of wood, stumps, and rubbish, and every morning swept clean, for the purpose of a parade-ground and roll-call of the respective regiments. The officers' huts were in general divided ino two apartments, and were occupied by three or four officers, who composed one mess. Those occupied by the privates had but one room, which contained ten or twelve men, with their cabins or bunks, which were placed one above another, against the walls, and filled with straw, and a blanket for each man. It was February; and fires were burning in every hut at Middlebrook. It was n ight, too; and each lowly habitation had its group of men seated around the fire, which blazed up cheerfully, shedding light and heat around. The soldiers could well appreciate the comforts of these huts, after living in the slight canvas tents that had served them for their former habitations. L No doubt they thought of peace, and all the enjoyments of a quiet fireside, while lolling around their fires, of an evening, cracking jokes and relating adventures; but if they did, it must have been only to vent imprecations on the heads of the tyrants who had forced them into their present situation. Strange characters were sometimes joined in the same mess, which tended to make their conversation a better study than is usually afforded. There was one, in particular, which bore this character. The mess we speak of, occupied a hut at one extremity of the encampment.. It was composed of the most incongruous characters that could have been found anywhere. A backwoodsman, (the people of the western part of New York were called 'backwoodsmen,' in those days,) an Irishman, several Yankees, and various others, from the Middle States, including a Conestoga farmer, from Pennsylvania, a broken-down literary gentleman, from New York, and others, whose previous occupations were of a very doubtful character.

Upon the particular night of which we speak, the elements were at war out of doors --- the wind blowing fiercely, and snow and rain falling; just such a night as is calculated to make us enjoy a good fire and pleasant company. The mess were seated around the fire, in a semicircle; seated, we say, but only after a fashion. There were a few boards laid in front of the fire, upon which the most of them were half-sitting, half-lying. There was evidently a sort of respect manifested for the quondam literary man, as there generally is for the man "who writes for the papers." His oopinions, expressed in better language than his comrades could command, and delivered in a very confident manner, were always listened to with grave attention, and they generally decided the oft-recurring disputes between the members of the mess. They were discussing some of the events of the preceding campaign; but their principal topic was the battle of Monmouth Court-House, the great event of that campaign.

"Well, Conestogey," said one of the Yankees, "you may talk away there, as much as your thick Dutch tongue will lete you --- I tell you, it's a fact."

The Yankee was evidently endeavoring to make the Pennsylvanian swallow a rather knotty yarn.

"Come, come," remarked another of the company, "that's a pretty good one for you, Josiah, but it's bad money; it won't pass!"

"Well, if you don't b'lieve it, there's an end of it,' returned Josiah.

"What's that he don't believe?" enquired the literary man, rousing himself from a state of musing, or listlessness, into which he had fallen.

"Why," replied Josiah, "I was tellin' 'em about a red-coat that I killed at the battle of Monmouth, in an outlandish kind of a way. He got separated from his troop, and so did I; but it seemed as how he wasn't of the right grit. He wen skulkin' around among the tree, afeared to show himself, when I caught sight of him. There was two trees atween me and him; but as I had a pretty good sort of a firelock with me, I didn't think about waitin' till I had a better chance, so I let drive at him; and sour my uncle's milk, if the ball didn't go aclean through both trees, and lodged right plump in the breast of the red-coat --- killin' him on the spot."

"About how thick were those trees, Josiah?" asked the literary man, critically.

"Divil a bit o' difference to him," put in the Hibernian, who had been listening to the conversation.

"Well," replied Josiah, without paying any attention to the Irishman's remark, "I gess about a foot through."

"Well, I never!" ejaculated another of the 'down-esters.'

"Naw, naw," said the grum Conestoga farmer, shaking his head.

"Josiah," said the king of the mess, the literary man, looking severely at the down-easter, "it's impossible to do anything of the sort, and you never did do it. Let your next story have a little probability in it, or we'll make you keep your talk to yourself."

"Yes, do," said the backwoodsman, who had remained quiet till now, "I like to hear you tell a story; you can talk like a lawyer, right to the p'int, without any flummery."

"Ah, boys," said the literary man, sighing," I've seen the day when I would not yield to anybody the superiority in the telling of a story, or writing one, either ---but that's past now; and as I feel my years growing upon me, I also feel the decline of my powers. I'll do my best to amuse you, however, if you'll only make allowances."

The men nodded their heads, in acquiescence, for they really did like to hear him talk. It was very seldom that they came across a man, among the common soldiery, who possessed his quality of tongue. He was probably one of a class of men, who, though possessed of real talent, have such a shrinking nature, such a distrust of their own abilities, that they never aspire to rank among the higher class of intellects, but content themselves with living and acting among a class who are much their inferiors. Had he possessed confidence enough, no doubt he might have obtained a commission in the army; but he had not that quality, and therefore was among the privates. After clearing his throat, and replenishing the fire with a few more sticks of wood, he commenced: ---

"the mention of the battle of Monmouth Court-House, called to my mind various incidents which occurred on that day; some of these, I p[resume, one or two of you are acquainted with; but the others, I knew, did not come under your notice. Those of you who were present at the battle, were, according to your own account, with General Greene. I happened to be with the left wing of the army, under General Lee. What I'm going to tell you about, are the incidents that occurred to the left wing of our army, that day. You know that we retreeated, and that that retreat prevented us from achieving a glorious victory. The retreat was a mistake of General Scott's judgment; he thought a movement on his right, made by a portion of our troops, was a retreat. We fell back across a morass, and through a wood, which we were to have occupied. As soon as General Lee was informed of our reetreat, he expressed his disapprobation of General Scott's conduct, in strong terms; but, instead of endeavoring to regain the ground that Scott had lost, he sent word to Lafayette to meet him at the court-house, and continued to fall back towards a point where he proposed to make a stand. The day was excessively warm, and the continued marching of the troops, beneath the blazing sun, and through sand knee-deep, caused many a poor fellow to drop down, never to rise again. A comrade of min, Ben Hansel, was among the number. He and I had enlisted together; we had passed side by side through the same battles; and when I was wounded, he watched over me like a brother; he knew I would have done the same for him. I saw Ben fall, and I couldn't go on with the troops, and let him die alone and untended, like a cast-off dog. I went to the captain, and begged him, for God's sake, to let me stop and assist poor Ben, that I might save his life, if possible. The captain was a humane man; he sympathized with me, but said that we needed all the men we could get. He said there was no hope of Ben's recovery, and that I couldn't be spared just then. I persisted in entreating him; but he said he must not forget his duty, and refused me any further hearing. I struggled for awhile between my friendship for poor Ben and my obedience to the captain's dictates; but friendship triumphed in the end; and, watching my opportunity, I dropped away from the company, and hastened back to where poor Ben laid. He had dragged himself to a bank beneath a tree, by the roadside; and there he lay, gasping for breath, his face flushed extremely, and his limbs lying perfectly useless. I knew that he had not a great while to live, as soon as I looked at him. I had suffered a good del from the heat and toil of marching, and knew that I was stronger than Ben; for he had experienced a long spell of sickness. I rushed up to him, and unfastened his jacket and vest, so as to give him as much air as possible. He knew me at once, and as he languidly opened his eyes, gasped out, 'Is that you, Jack?' I answered him, and told him I had contrived to get away, to take care of him. 'god bless you for it, Jack,' he murmured, 'but it's of little use --- I'm going fast.' I tried to comfort him as much as I could; but I needed more comfort than I could give; for Ben was the truest friend I ever had, and I was going to lose him. I felt his hand; it was growing cold. He managed to gasp a request for water; and I left him for a few minutes, while I went in search of some. I found a brook near by, and returned to Ben, with a cup-full of the water. I always carried a small tin cup with me, when on duty. I held the cup to his parched lips, and he sipped it slowly, till it seemed to revive him a little. 'Jack,' said he, 'you've been a true friend to me, and there's a reward for such as you. When you go to Philadelphia again, go and see my wife; and tell Mary that I thought of her as long as God gave me power to think. You'll find, in my pocket, a love-knot of her hair and mine --- take that to her; and do you, Jack take anything that I have about me, to make you think of me sometimes.' I promised him all he asked, and he wrung my hand with the little strength he had left. I shed tears; I couldn't help it."

"You're a man for doin' that same," interrupted the Irishman, who, like all the rest, had been deeply interested in the narrative. The literary gentleman brushed a tear from his eye, and proceeded: ---

"Ben had just strength enough left to murmur, 'god bless you, Jack --- god bless my wife!' and his limbs stiffened, and I felt the hand I held grow cold; he was dead. I wept for awhile over the body of my old comrade, and then I was forced to leave it. My company had long been out of sight, but I made all the haste I could to overtake them. They m ust have taken a very roundabout road, for nought could I see of them. I was fearful of falling into the hands of the enemy, and so I thought it best to take to the wood for cover. I passed cautiously through it, till I came near the edge of it, when i climbed a tall pine, to look around me before I proceeded further. There just without the wood, I saw a squadron of horse, and a party of officers, whom I knew were Americans. Upon closer scuriny, I discovered the figure of the commander-in-chief, who was evidently engaged in an altercation with another officer. This, I afterwards ascertained, was general Lee, to whom Washington was addressing some very indignant remarks. Lee seemed to be very much excited by General Washington's language; but Washington rode away soon after, followed by his aids. I knew, from seeing some of our troops who were under the command of Lee, that i could not be far of from my regiment, and I therefore descended the tree, and walked cautiously to the edge of the wood, when I could see the battalions under the command of colonels Stewart and Ramsay, who had been ordered to form, by Washington, and, under cover of the corner of the wood, to await the approach of the British. I took a circuitous route through the wood, and joined my company without being observed by the captain.

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12/24/06.