It was a trying time, and fruitful in nothing but anxious forebodings.

All the fighting was confined to skirmishes of outposts, and his days were consumed in vain efforts to obtain help from the States, while he watched with painful eagerness the current of events in Europe, down which the fortunes of his country were feebly drifting.
Among the petty incidents of the year there was one which, in its effects, gained an international importance, which has left a deep stain upon the English arms, and which touched Washington deeply.
Captain Huddy, an American officer, was captured in a skirmish and carried to New York, where he was placed in confinement.

Thence he was taken on April 12 by a party of Tories in the British service, commanded by Captain Lippencott, and hanged in the broad light of day on the heights near Middletown.

Testimony and affidavits to the fact, which was never questioned, were duly gathered and laid before Washington.

The deed was one of wanton barbarity, for which it would be difficult to find a parallel in the annals of modern warfare.
The authors of this brutal murder, to our shame be it said, were of American birth, but they were fighting for the crown and wore the British uniform.