The most important members of Putnam's military family, his son Daniel and Major Humphreys, accompanied him home on leave of absence, in November, whence, early in December, the General set out on his return to the army, which was to winter at Morristown. Soon after leaving Brooklyn, and while on the road to Hartford, he "felt an unusual torpor slowly pervading his right hand and foot. This heaviness crept gradually on until it had deprived him of the use of his limbs on that side, in a considerable degree, before he reached the house of his friend Colonel Wadsworth"--the gentleman to whom he had written the letter of the eleventh of May previous. Having tried, though vainly, to shake off the terrible torpor and regain the use of his limbs by exercise, the stricken soldier was at last compelled to admit defeat and resign himself to the inevitable. He returned home after a short tarry with his friend, and passed the remainder of that winter at the farmhouse he had built in his younger days, surrounded with loving care and affection by his children. At first disposed to rebel against this stroke that had rendered him useless while his country still stood in need of his services, eventually he regained his cheerfulness and gave himself up to the enjoyment of the home comforts of which for so many years he had been deprived. The partial paralysis from which he suffered was premonitory of the final stroke; but it was eleven years before it came and removed from earth this stout-hearted man who had given his best years and his best efforts to battling for his native land. There is no doubt that his mighty struggles in the several wars--his daylight marches and nighttime vigils; his tremendous exertions in emergencies like the fire at Fort Edward, the running of the rapids at Fort Miller; long hours without rest in the saddle, and in the trenches, with wet and frozen clothing sometimes unchanged for days--all conduced toward the weakening of that mighty frame prematurely stricken with paralysis. But he had regrets only for what he was prevented from doing; not for what he had done. Having recovered somewhat, he entertained hopes--vain hopes--of rejoining the army; but was finally convinced that his active career was ended. Major Humphreys having visited him in May, 1780, by his hand he sent a missive to Washington, informing him of his condition, and ending with this pathetic postscript: "I am making a great effort to use my hand to make the initials of my name for the first time. "I.P."--Israel Putnam." Washington replied in July, congratulating him on his improved state of health, and four years later, after peace was declared between Great Britain and the United States, he wrote a long and cordial letter, which the old General regarded as one of his most precious treasures. The opening paragraph shows Washington's real and lasting estimate of his former comrade in adversity, and is as follows: