As the city might speedily be attacked, Washington caused all the sick and wounded to be conveyed to Orangetown, in the Jerseys, and such military stores and baggage as were not immediately needed, to be removed, as fast as conveyances could be procured, to a post partially fortified at Dobbs’ Ferry, on the eastern bank of the Hudson, about twenty-two miles above the city. Reed, in his letters to his wife, talks of the dark and mysterious motions of the enemy, and the equally dark and intricate councils of Congress, by which the army were disheartened and perplexed. “We are still here,” writes he on the 6th, “in a posture somewhat awkward; we think (at least I do) that we cannot stay, and yet we do not know how to go, so that we may be properly said to be between hawk and buzzard.” The “shameful and scandalous desertions,” as Washington termed them, continued. In a few days the Connecticut militia dwindled down from six to less than two thousand. “The impulse for going home was so irresistible,” writes he, “that it answered no purpose to oppose it. Though I would not discharge them, I have been obliged to acquiesce.” Still his considerate mind was tolerant of their defection. “Men,” said he, “accustomed to unbounded freedom, cannot brook the restraint which is indispensably necessary to the good order and government of an army.” And again, “Men just dragged from the tender scenes of domestic life, unaccustomed to the din of arms, totally unacquainted with every kind of military skill (which is followed by a want of confidence in themselves, when opposed to troops regularly trained, superior in knowledge, and superior in arms), are timid and ready to fly from their own shadows. Besides, the sudden change in their manner of living, brings on an unconquerable desire to return to their homes.” Greene, also, who coincided so much with Washington in opinions and sentiments, observes: “People coming from home with all the tender feelings of domestic life, are not sufficiently fortified with natural courage to stand the shocking scenes of war. To march over dead men, to hear without concern the groans of the wounded—I say few men can stand such scenes unless steeled by habit or fortified by military pride.”