disagreeable sensations. I hope you and my sister, (although the distance
is great), will find as much leisure this summer as to spend a little time
at Mount Vernon."


When, six months later, the war at Boston settled into a mere siege,
Washington wrote that "seeing no prospect of returning to my family and
friends this winter, I have sent an invitation to Mrs. Washington to come
to me," adding, "I have laid a state of difficulties, however, which must
attend the journey before her, and left it to her own choice." His wife
replied in the affirmative, and one of Washington's aides presently wrote
concerning some prize goods to the effect that "There are limes, lemons
and oranges on board, which, being perishable, you must sell immediately.
The General will want some of each, as well of the sweetmeats and pickles
that are on board, as his lady will be here to-day or to-morrow. You will
please to pick up such things on board as you think will be acceptable to
her, and send them as soon as possible; he does not mean to receive
anything without payment."

Lodged at head-quarters, then the Craigie house in Cambridge, the
discomforts of war were reduced to a minimum, but none the less it was a
trying time to Mrs. Washington, who complained that she could not get used
to the distant cannonading, and she marvelled that those about her paid so
little heed to it. With the opening of the campaign in the following
summer she returned to Mount Vernon, but when the army was safely in
winter quarters at Valley Forge she once more journeyed northward, a trip
alluded to by Washington in a letter to Jack, as follows: "Your Mamma is
not yet arrived, but ... expected every hour. [My aide] Meade set off
yesterday (as soon as I got notice of her intention) to meet her. We are
in a dreary kind of place, and uncomfortably provided." And of this