To Governor George Clinton
Head Quarters, Valley Forge, February 16, 1778
Dear Sir: It is with great reluctance, I trouble you on a subject, which does not fall within your province; but it is a subject that occasions me more distress, than I have felt, since the commencement of the war; and which loudly demands the most zealous exertions of every person of weight and authority, who is interested in the success of our affairs. I mean the present dreadful situation of the army for want of provisions, and the miserable prospects before us, with respect to futurity. It is more alarming than you will probably conceive, for, to form a just idea, it were necessary to be on the spot. For some days past, there has been little less, than a famine in camp. A part of the army has been a week, without any kind of flesh, and the rest for three or four days. Naked and starving as they are, we cannot enough admire the incomparable patience and fidelity of the soldiery, that they have not been ere this excited by their sufferings, to a general mutiny or dispersion. Strong symptoms, however, discontent have appeared in particular instances; and nothing but the most acitive efforts every where can long avert so shocking a catastrophe.-General George Washington
“Our circumstances are peculiar- our clothing more ragged than usual.”-attributed to General Lafayette, April 1781, (Source:
Daughters of the American Revolution)
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Encampment, Virginia, 1781
Dearest Mother,
Quite a journey this war has been
Battling, marching, camping miles upon miles
From Long Island to Trenton
Outfoxing the British with the Master of Wiles
Advancing...holding...retreating...
Supplies and food low for our men,
Memorable days of mustering, marching, drilling,
At Valley Forge with General von Steubon.
Now riding to Virginia with General Lafayette,
because of that turncoat, we'll catch him yet.
Through each hazzard, adventure, opportunity and gloom
I fear my expiring breeches have finally met their doom,
It began with sunlight showing through threads
It ended with a rip and a tear,
I've tried my best to mend them, to patch them,
each night by the campfire, with all my might.
Yet each day new patches of sunlight became new rips.
A touch of your hand, dear mother, would set all things right.
Your most humble and obedient,
Son
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Home, Virginia, 1781
My dear Son,
Your news brings glad tidings that fill my heart
Filling the void in our home while from us you are apart.
For months I've gathered provisions from where I could
for our supplies too are dwindling,
in town, in the country, I gathered all I could.
Glady I've cut linen fabric to fit your frame,
Found buttons to shine on the same,
Soberly I've put needle and thread to fabric day by day,
Weaving my prayers through each stitch for your way.
Your loving Mother
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21st Century Translation
Parts of this story are true. The Continental Army indeed was often in need of new clothing, their old being tattered and torn as documented in various writings, most notable being that of General Washington from Valley Forge.
Last autumn my son's breeches RIPPED at the opening of Colonial Williamsburg's Prelude to Victory programming. We hastened to a bench where I pulled out needle and thread to try to repair the rip above his knee. For each successive visit to CW through last autumn, each day brought new tears and rips. Each night we sat and patched in the hotel with one low light while everyone else slept. Come winter I sewed a new pair of woolen breeches but being summer, a new pair of linen were needed. These new breeches incorporate many of the 18th century hand sewing techniques I learned at the Burnley and Trowbridge breeches class I took last autumn with the Colonial Williamsburg tailors. I even pounded out the buttonholes

with reproduction 18th century buttonhole chisels.

I often teased, much to my son's chagrin, that his breeches looked like they had been through the American Revolution. As I stitched the new pair, this silly poem formed in my head. Today we can have fun with it. In reality, during the American Revolution, the soldiers were dependent on those willing to take up needle and thread to handsew and donate new shirts and breeches for the men. (In the meantime I stumbled upon a great new Lafayette story, which is little documented so I am further researching.) Congress did not have power to tax the independent states to pay and provide the men with supplies, food and clothing. All Congress could do was write the states to ask them to support their units. Some women dedicated their resources to help clothe the Continental Soldiers, yet supply could never keep up with demand. Our soldiers suffered much so we could have much.
(Editor's Note: My apologies, obviously I'm not much of a poet, yet I couldn't resist an attempt to make light with my son's breeches. My original vision was far different...perhaps that will be for the future. )